It Ain't Easy Being Indian: February 2015
Thursday, February 05 2015
Written by Ricey Wild,
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ricey wild.jpgAt age 19, I became absolutely unhinged. I had recently left an abusive relationship with a man it was taken for granted I would marry; I thank all the Gods living and dead that did not happen. The moment of truth crashed upon me the morning I looked at my big, swollen bloody lips after being punched by a man who professed to love me. ďNo one,Ē I said to myself, ďNo one who loves someone would do this to someone they say they love.Ē In that astonishing moment I was freed from misery, knowing especially that I deserve better and I would settle for nothing less.

In the meantime and in between time after becoming legal age, I morphed into the Club Queen I felt I was meant to be. I missed out on the sweaty, glittery Disco days but Prince and other amazing artists like Teddy Pendergrass, Rick James and Teena Marie were smooving and so I began my glory days partying to their music. Iím happy I have that to share at whatever bridge I end up under if republicans get their way.

So Ö this one night I was wearing a really sexy backless jumpsuit and talking to fine, FINE suave men at the Yellow Brick Road Knight Klub and for some reason I became really twitchy and uncomfortable while gabbing what I thought were witticisms. I looked down toward my feet and saw one foot of pantyhose dangling under the bottom of my attire. (Younger readers: ask your Mom or Gramma what Ďpantyhoseí were. Absurd garment if you ask me). I gasped and ran for the ladies room where I grabbed the foot and pulled and pulled and pulled at least forty yards until the entire hose was out. I had not noticed while hastily getting dressed that the previous hose were still in there!

Ahem!!! Excuse me while I collapse in hilarity at a most fond memory of my wild, unapologetic youth. Iím pretty sure no one else saw it but I will never forget it and have never taken myself too seriously after that. Trickster is real and will get you, just laugh at your silly self, stay aware and go with it.

The reason I share this most profound (Ay!!!) Ė now public Ė humiliation is that it sort of happened again, sort of. I am 30-plus years on past the Pantyhosegate episode and it goes like this: my coworker did a favor for me by driving me to the bank instead of the Risky Raccoon Kasino & Hot Tub Klub. My innards growled just as we were to leave so I paid a visit to the Doeís outhouse before we left because I didnít wanna embarrass myself with inappropriate and possibly messy emissions. Tom, you are welcome.

Then I sort of galloped as best I could given my advanced years toward the truck but stopped beside it because I felt something touching my left leg above my knee. I tried to shake it out, did some badass Elvis/Michael Jackson moves too, hey! I finally got the object down near the top of my boot and Ö pulled and pulled and pulled!

Well, I will you spare yooz the graphic description but I will say the tissue rolled out unsullied and that is what sparked the memory of my previous dilemma with stuff forgotten in oneís pants. Why canít I ever forget or find money in my pants? Oh, thatís right, I donít have any. And I work.

All of that brings me to this: Iím on Facebook most everyday and I read and share what I feel is crucial information for the people whom have awakened and are fighting for our beautiful planet and all its innocent, glorious and necessary sentient beings of which humans are not counted as, in my opinion.

Back to Facebook now. On the right column I see ads that I was initially amused by and scoffed at because of their content. ďI can handle love handlesĒ sez one. Whaa-aat??? Others offers cures for frequent urination, wrinkle creams, meeting other Ďseniors,' AARP offers, then shoes and boots and my favorite cats and kittens. Hah? Really???

I became a bit paranoid like how did all those corporations seem to know me so well or at least assume they do? The answer came crashing down on me and while I really want to deny it I canít. Itís ugly, so very disgusting. 'Every keystroke you make every Javascript you fake Ö Iíll be watching you Ö ' The Police. For real.

It is important to understand we are not free. However, WE can discuss, organize and beat the Evildoers down. We, the people. Iím so in, itís worth it to me.

As for the snagging sites? Nah! I have five cats and a super-dog for company.

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