Dear Tasha, 

I apologize. I still don’t really like you.  And your face still looks like you had some development issues in utero, but I am sorry for looking at you thru main chick eyes instead of just regular ol’ trying-to-make-it-the-best-way-we-know-how woman eyes.  XOXO, M. 

With that unpleasantness out the way….


And as quick as she came…Tasha, (no Trasha this week) is gone.  “Mya? What she did to kick herself out a relationship,” you ask?  She responded in kind to a man that acted like he wanted a relationship. HOW DUMB IS SHE to believe someone wants to be with her just ‘cuz he acting like he wants to be with her?! Stupid heffa.  It’s always enjoyable to see a man run from a woman once she’s out of a thong and in a head scarf.  Big funbags and a donk aren’t so fun when it wants to start cuddling while watching the House that Shonda Built on Thursday nights instead of popping it for a real…fucknword.  At the family bbq he saw he was bigger in her life than she was in his and it became clear that Tasha and her clan were not what Lawrence wanted for his life. Hell, even before then he told his co-workers that he had to “pick up some chairs” as opposed to attending his “girl’s” family que when they inquired bout his Saturday plans.  He makes a quick exit out of the bbq, telling the trusting Tasha that he has some work shit he needs to handle, then he kisses her goodbye – literally. He links up with his work folks, while poor Tasha texts him inquiring about his return to the festivities.  He finally takes her call and tells her she ain’t what he wants.  She rightfully calls bullshit and tells him what SO many men need to hear.  YOU ARE NOT A GOOD DUDE.  You are the worse.  A BAD DUDE THAT THINKS HE IS A GOOD DUDE.  Fucknword ass, Fucka.   Bye Tasha…I’m sure all the men will enjoy watching you walk away.

Issa on the Stroll

Since being freed by Molly’s reveal that Lawrence doesn’t want her, our girl is trying her best to ensure that her pussy doesn’t get broken.  We open the show with her in flagrante delecto with Johnnie Gill and his weird fingers.  After awkwardly fucking that up and getting zero action at the club where Molly takes her to hoe, she still needs to get that monkey off her back.  She goes home and we see one of the saddest moments in a woman life. Sadder than the loss of a first love.  Sadder than the moment she finds out she’s gonna bleed for the next 30 years of her life.  Sadder than seeing what micros do to your edges. Sadder than the stylist saying you still ain’t dry. The moment the batteries in your battery operated device betray you.  I dropped one lone gangsta tear at the sight of her rummaging for any power source she could find. Not to be defeated, our scrappy heroine refocuses and sets her sights on who can be a lady’s best friend: the hood boo.  Her neighbor, Dontcarehisname, has been looking like a Ritz cracker to a famished person and she concocts a way to get into his bed for the most cringe worthy start to a romp EVER.  First, he’s watching Gossip Girl.  Second, the removal of their clothes is a tragedy.  Third, and I want the fellas to lean in on this, he wants her legs to go into a direction that legs don’t normally go and for her head to be okay with being banged repeatedly into wood.  THIS IS NOT FUN FOR US. I’m not speaking for all women, but like 97% of them, who watched that scene and said “I hate that shit.”  But Ol Dontcare, got it together and she rode him into the sunset.  Issa leaves his house beaming….as her phone alerts her to her next bustdown.

Session Notes:

  • Raphael Saadiq’s music is the fourth lead on this show.  This man dug “Let’s Play House” out the crates.  Bless.
  • JIDENNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.  Listen my love for him is true and deep.  I left my house at 11:30 post meridian to see him sing five songs at a Lollapalooza Aftershow, so you know it’s real.  When “Trampoline” came on in the club scene, I literally forgot I had to take notes.  I had to rewind that shit three times before I finally stopped dancing and started to pay attention.
  • I see you, Myolly.  Yes. MYOLLY, that’s what I’m calling me and her. I see her tho. Oh, the sting of seeing that other woman get the help she so desperately needs from the person she so desperately wants it from. Ouch. Out here struggling on her own, but still not willing to settle.
  • Delta Sigma Theta Shaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaade.  #badIssa
  • Did Issa Rae & Co. really cast the black dude  that y’all be crying over every week as Molly’s date?  OKKKKKKKKKK!
  • My heart stopped a brief moment when Issa almost passed out from the paint.  lol

Editor’s Note:  I have asked not one, but TWO men, to join me on this ride in an attempt to provide an alternate view, altho I’ve heard enough bullshit from men that I could probably write it myself.  But, they did to me, what Lawrence did to Tasha….ghosted. SHOCKING RIGHT?  #dontatme

Whatchall think?

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