Learning When I Should STFU: How I Survived Lizzo-Gate

I don’t recall the first set of ass cheeks that started my life long journey of being attracted to voluptuous women, or as my daddy would say, “Women wit some meat on em,” but I do recall being just as attracted to Ursula as I was Ariel when I watched the Little Mermaid for the first time. Ursula, who was thicker than refrigerated gumbo, would swim her fine self in that little ass sea cave she was regulated to, as she bellowed out notes any lead vocalist at a black church on the First Sunday would be proud of.

And when a young man saw Lizzo’s ass twerking at the Staples Center the other night, when all he expected was to catch a glimpse of Lebron James dunking on niggas, I’m willing to wager this young man’s life long journey of being attracted to “women wit some meat on em” may have started that night.

But I’m going to be honest, I don’t give a shit about them kids.

I don’t give a shit about them kids, Lizzo’s bare ass or that crooked thong she was rocking. And because of this, I’ve lived blissfully in the realm of shutting the the fuck up. I know, I know, when a hot button issue comes up, especially in the age of social media, our first instinct is to the rush on every social media platform and express our acceptance or rejection of the situation. And if we are being COMPLETELY HONEST with ourselves (and these sneaky ass kids we are trying to “protect” from Lizzo’s ass cheeks), we reside in an era where we (and these sneaky ass kids) can access every ass cheek on the internet and where we (and these sneaky ass kids) can access the freakiest, most vile shit anyone has ever thought of via pick a porn site.

And this is not to say that people shouldn’t give a shit about Lizzo’s wardrobe, or the kids, or her crooked thong, or Lebron James’ old ass still dunking on folks, but what I am saying is that taking a large dose of shutting the fuck up about today’s hot button issue did wonders for me, personally. I was able to answer emails efficiently, talk shit about coworkers on Skype for Business, and sell dope.

OK, I didn’t sell dope, but I definitely dreamed about selling dope while stuck in a meeting that lasted for two painful hours.

Also, just an extra piece of advice for my fellow males out there, I think we should sit this Lizzo thing out. Trust me, it’s easier this way. I mean, why do we even care? We are always trying to get non creepy glimpses of ass cheeks. Personally, I try to catch non creepy glimpses of fat ass cheeks, skinny ass cheeks, in shape ass cheeks, ones that need to do some squats ass cheeks, it don’t even matter. And yes, Lizzo’s ass being out was a bit shocking, but I then recalled my very own life long obsession with ass cheeks, and that is when my giving a damn about this issue faded, and my STFU took over.

We will survive Lizzo-Gate one STFU at a time.

Leslie McLemore writes about a lot of different shit for Black With No Chaser. He is also the Takeaway Kang and is the father of two beautiful girls, one of which gets on every nerve he has. The other one is sweet. So, you know, balance. 

Follow him on Facebook and Twitter.

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