If my sons hit the road to perform a ballad about the husband who had ditched me to focus more on his job, I would disown them. 

I tried to pick up a container of veggies at B&N and it burst into a giant cloud of broccoli.  So I edged away from the exploding container and moved forward with the line while 3 colleagues from the English Department picked broccoli florets off of themselves. 

Do you know who’s on my nerves today?  White people. 

It’s like, OK: The corner of our block is a local crack spot.  We have neighbors living in hazardous, underground converted apartments due to the fear of deportation.  I know one woman with mental health problems whose kids have probably never seen the inside of a school.   

And you’re going to strengthen our block by building a community garden?  Do you ever notice that the "community" you’re trying to strengthen consists exclusively of other white people from Southwest Detroit’s petit burgeois? 

I don’t know.  It’s just too puppies and unicorns for me. 

I’m going to think of this as a blog for Molly and Sarah, the only people who read it. So I say unto you, Molly and Sarah, don’t waste your money on the new Ben Harper CD.  

I’m coming around to the shocking realization that some people do not like me.  Take, for example, my friend — let’s call her Mizmar — take, for example, Mizmar’s boyfriend.  I can seriously ooze Mr Sparkle out of my pores and it’s lost on him.  But what kind of person doesn’t like Mr Sparkle?