#i’d love to see the new dynamic of the gang once they learned white is not black

[m1ckeyb3rry]

TRUE the crow dedication is so real….like bro really took his last name literally LOL

PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS>>> idk I just love exploring the different avenues and depths of friendship esp since I myself don’t like forcing romance upon anything rlly….also like some dynamics remind me of how I’d act with some close friends too like I’ve just never seen the need to ship or anything when you can have a perfectly developed and interesting relationship without having to be in love with someone yk I feel like it almost makes the dynamic and friendship even more meaningful sometimes

The second selection trio is GOLD I Lowk loved that trio and how they meshed together despite being such different ppl?? I also LOVED that arc for the Barou development bc omg someone who learns from their defeats and makes a better version of themself that’s actually so cool….

Otoya’s fit is SO on brand LMAO I feel like yukis has too many layers almost like just looking at it makes me sweat HAHA

Im ngl I feel like something looks a teensy bit off in that one colored art…maybe it’s because it’s fully buttoned or something? But I LOVE THE TURTLENECK TRENCHCOAT COMBO it’s like my fav outfit style ever and he looks SOOO GOOD IN THE MANGA!!! Ugh the turtleneck >>>> I have a friend who hates the turtleneck long coat combo and I’m like….bro…..where’s ur taste…. But fr I something about the clean mature looking style also just fits him so well too!!!

AOT LMAOOO what’s even funnier is (idk exact how accurate this is) but I heard rin was possibly inspired by two characters?? Eren and I forgot her name starts with an M I think….but apparently one of the authors was an assistant for aot I think so definitely fitting LOLLL

Ok and honestly the Hiori duality is also so fitting?? Like we see in the novel he’s a pretty open/relaxed chill little boy outside of his household and when he opens up to Karasu and the team but then BAM switch flips once he enters his home and I feel like the diff between white butterfly and fwtkac matches that so well…..I love a little angst sprinkled in sometimes too that kinda duality is just so good, just goes to show the depths a character can have!! I love it!!!

Trust me I will be EATING UP those hiori works too honestly being fed so well by all of your writing lately I’m so excited to read everything <333

The light novels are SO. FUNNY. cursed Nagi was actually hilarious and I remember first reading the Hiori one and the whole stalking thing was peak comedy like wdym you’re a 6 foot man trying to hide your near fluorescent blue hair under a baseball cap….I’ll never forget the line that’s like “he’s only ever done soccer his entire life…it’s only natural that he doesn’t know proper social etiquette” LMAOAOOO

I think recently my favs finally settled the was like swapping between Chigiri Nagi Rin and Karasu for a good while a couple months ago….i feel like new ppl don’t really ever my top five as much it’s just a matter of the ranking amongst them LOL

Also I love Otoya but I also LOVE Otoya slander HAHA I love making fun of him so bully him all you like LMAOOO

Nagi fr is just like a big koala bear….i remember being so shocked by his height at first but it honestly adds more to his charm LOL and definitely!! The parental neglect is kinda real for him too like…ppl take his “breakup” with Reo and run with it like are we reading the same thing….. the dark haired hot trope is too real like people just toss rin into that category throw in some Emo and call it a day like….i think especially the moment after the u20 match where rin looks at sae thinking he’ll be praised by him just kinda shows he’s just an emotional stunted boy with brother trauma like…..man…you’re so right about the fanon Rin being like aiku or Karasu though i do see a lot of like…smooth talker rin on here…..

TREADMILL yesss get those steps!! Chronically online gang rise tho LOLL but hey at least you’re being productive and active while online!!

-Karasu anon

he was assigned crow at birth and knew what he had to do from there 🫡 i’ve always wondered what his older sister looks like (apparently he had one according to the official egoist bible) i bet she’s sooo pretty but like. does she also do her hair in some weird vaguely-crow inspired way?? or does she think her little brother is a freak?? what abt the rest of his family?? LMAOAO questions we may never know the answers to…

even when writing romance i’ve noticed i’ll have one or two Kiss Scenes but for the most part i prefer showing love in other ways!! smth that’s always stuck with me is that if your characters need to kiss to prove to your readers that they’re in love, you didn’t do a good enough job writing their relationship. so personally even in my longest and most devastating love stories i hardly write Actual Romance!! i think the reason i don’t like shipping personally (again, full respect to anyone who does 💖) is because making the love between two characters explicit instead of implied often (to me) ruins the actual depth between them.

second selection trio is so so good!! and i agree barou’s development esp in the match vs reo kuni and chigiri was delightful to see. tbh when i first watched bllk i thought barou was a “baddie of the week” character who would only be relevant in the match against team x and then disappear entirely, so i was really excited to see him come back AND with a new and improved design (first selection barou kinda haunts me tbh why does he look like that…)

ohhhh i was talking abt the manga only!! i haven’t seen the colored illustrations but i agree the coat is a bit odd in them. i imagined it to be tan when i read the manga which i think fits him better than the bright blue but oh well it’s karasu he can pull anything off. he looked so cute in it in the manga!! when he took it off and went with just the turtleneck too…it really did give me such a lowkey but mature and elegant vibe!! like future businessman right there mr “if i randomly got 100 million yen i’d invest in index funds” bro is trying to be reo so bad DHSKSJSJ (speaking of which i do not fw reo’s fits he needs to hire a better personal stylist because some of those choices he makes are certainly. choices.)

HAHA yes i’ve seen that rin is supposed to be a blend of eren and mikasa!! i can def see it. i was heavily into aot back in 2021 though not much anymore actually which is why i immediately clocked the comparison!!

i know the karasu series is pretty fluffy and funny but i am actually first and foremost an angst lover!! i love writing absolutely heartbreaking stories they’re my favorite thing in the world. bllk is making me lose my edge though 😔 i need to get back to writing angst again…i think maybe i’m surprised by people being sad abt white butterfly because when i imagine angst it’s like death and inevitable ruin HAHAHHA but anyways i agree hiori def is a very layered character!! i’m excited to write more of him as well

oh my god the light novels are so sillyyyy 😭 when karasu made up an entire tragic backstory for himself just to mess w hiori??? he is so problematic i can’t even lie and the way hiori 100% believed him too had me bawling

OTOYA SLANDER 4 LIFE he is just so so easy to make fun of!! spoiler alert it’s actually not y/n who hates on him the most…let’s just say that our dear best friend who wants a boyfriend has major major beef w him (he is completely unaware of this ofc)

everyone says they’re surprised that nagi is so tall wdym!! he is sooo teddy bear i think him being huge makes sm sense!! he has such big fluffy lazy dog vibes too…yk the kind that thinks it can fit on your lap despite being the size of a small horse 😭 like THAT is nagi to me

i fear rin will never escape his fanon characterization 😔 but yes i think the teasing/sassy side that people give him is actually much more in line w karasu’s personality, and him being super smooth and flirty is way more aiku than anything!! rin has like one insult that he uses for everyone he is NOT a sarcasm god i’m afraid 😰 and according to the egoist bible he knows he’s unfriendly but thinks if people don’t like that abt him they shouldn’t interact with him!! in my mind the extent of his flirting would just be him going nonverbal and being like 🌎👄🌎 at you from across the room LSJDOWNDWJ hopefully you are a mind reader because otherwise you are never finding out he has a crush

YESSS unfortunately i do have to go to the gym quite frequently because alongside being chronically online i ride horses competitively and go to parties and whatnot so the body must be maintained 😔 HAHA it’s like a double life omg sometimes random guys will try to flirt w me when i’m out w my friends and in the back of my mind i’ll just be like “oh he has NO idea I write reader insert fanfiction on tumblr dot com” 😭 once i was at a party and i just took out my phone and started responding to comments on ao3 instead of dancing or talking because i thought the music sucked and it was way too loud 😓

[axelsthoughtss]

But like imagine Gram learning there’s something going on with Sean and Black.

He was heartbroken when he thought Black doesn’t care enough about hurting Eugene, he’ll be devastated to learn that Black’s indifference is because the one he loves is Sean (ofc other than the fact that he’s not really Black).

[ibtk]

Book Review: OUTLAWED by Anna North (2021)

(Full disclosure: I received a free e-ARC for review through Netgalley. Trigger warning for mental illness, homophobia, misogyny, and rape. Caution: there are vague spoilers ahead!)

In the year of our Lord 1894, I became an outlaw. Like a lot of things, it didn’t happen all at once. First I had to get married.

“When someone believes in something,” Mama said, “you can’t just take it away. You have to give them something to replace it."

“We may be barren in body, dear Doctor, but we shall be fathers of many nations, fathers and mothers both. You see, when we found this land, I knew it was promised not just for us, but for the descendants of our minds and hearts, all those cast out of their homes and banished by their families, all those slandered and maligned, imprisoned and abused, for no crime but that God saw fit not to plant children in their wombs. I knew that we would build a nation of the dispossessed, where we would be not barren women, but kings.”

The eldest of a midwife's four daughters, and her mother's apprentice at that, seventeen-year-old Ada Magnusson is more scientifically-minded than most in the small town of Fairchild. Yet she's still subject to their superstitions, which are turned on Ada in full force when she fails to become pregnant after a year of marriage. Things go from bad to worse when an outbreak of the German measles results in three miscarriages. The people of Fairchild need someone to blame - and Ada has become their newest witch.

Ada's mom sends her off to a convent, the Sisters of the Holy Child, which is mostly populated by barren women like herself. It is here that Ada begins her life of crime, copying illicit books in the storeroom under the library in exchange for coins to spend on yet more books. Ada is determined to unlock the secrets of her "treacherous" body - to find out why some women are incapable of bearing children - so that she may save other unlucky women from ostracism, jail, or the gallows.

It's here that she learns of Mrs. Alice Schaeffer, a doctor studying infertility, and her call for research subjects in the west. But in place of Pagosa Springs, the Mother Superior gives Ada a choice: the habit or the Hole in the Wall. Ada chooses the latter, a notorious gang of outlaws led by the Kid, " a man tall as a pine tree and as strong as a grizzly bear, who once shot a deputy’s hat off his head while riding backward on his horse."

The Hole in the Wall Gang is not what Ada expected: a seven-member found family of "deviant" women (some of them queer, and arguably nonbinary), all cast off from society like Ada. Here Ada - christened "the Doctor" - finds a tenuous sort of kinship, even as she longs for Mrs. Schaeffer's promise of knowledge. But the Gang is always a few botched jobs away from starvation, even as the Kid's grand dreams threaten to steer them towards implosion.

The world created by Anna North in OUTLAWED is fascinating, at once both wholly familiar and eerily strange - almost like an Uncanny Valley of space and place. The book feels like historical fiction but is really alternative history: in this version of the American West, a Great Flu ravaged the country in the 1830s, killing 9 out of 10 men, women, and children.

The new Christianity that rose out of the wreckage celebrates fertility: women are encouraged to have as many children as possible, and doing so grants them "special" rights. For example, a woman may divorce her husband after having three children, and a woman with four children is practically unimpeachable. Premarital sex isn't necessarily a bad thing - but if you run around with a guy for long enough without becoming pregnant, your barrenness (not your promiscuity) will become the grist of rumor mills.

This obsession with BABIES! and women's bodies is all downsides, of course: being childfree is not a valid lifestyle choice, and women who don't have kids are branded as witches. And of course, abortion is illegal - even in cases of rape and incest.

OUTLAWED feels a bit like a Western spin on THE HANDMAID'S TALE, save for these little details; it's rather disconcerting, like everything is off by four or five degrees, and the ground is all wibbly wobbling under you. And I kind of love it. The setting is its own character.

I also adore the Hole in the Wall Gang - no surprise there! - the dynamics of which are messy and complex and wonderful. The Kid, Cassie, Elzy, Texas, Lo, News, Agnes Rose - if I was going to take on the white supremacist patriarchy, I'd want them by my side.

The big score - aka the Kid's plan to rob the Fiddleback bank and then use the proceeds to buy the whole gorram town - is as daring as it is full of holes, but damned if I wasn't rooting for it. And while it doesn't go down quite like in the Kid's imagination, the ending is so much more grounded and inspiring than I might have hoped for. (I started 2021 with a new RGB calendar, and January's quote seems apropos: "Fight for the things that you care about, but do it in a way that will lead others to join you.")

OUTLAWED is an odd, unexpected, thoughtful, heartfelt feminist tale about trying to make the world a better place - even as tries its damnedest to grind you down. So, like, the kind of story we need now more than ever.

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/3727120876

https://www.librarything.com/work/25210685/reviews/187450275

[littlemisssquiggles]

Pinehead Headcanons: Oscar’s Golden Circle

Man, Oscar’s got one heck of an awesome golden circle of friends. 

Not only is this magical little barn prince bestie buds with the little red Grimm Reaper but he’s also the adopted baby brother of a White Knight, the Goddess of thunder and a literal freaking Ninja from a hidden leaf village. I mean that’s just cool on so many levels.

Fun analogies aside, this squiggly Pinehead is hoping that Oscar sharing close bonds with Ruby Rose, Jaune Arc, Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie will be an integral part of his story and development going forward into the Atlas Arc.

Similar to how Ozpin had his own inner circle consisting of Qrow Branwen, Glynda Goodwitch, General James Ironwood and Professor Leonardo Lionheart, I’m anticipating this being repeated with Oscar where the RNJR gang will become his circle of close confidantes and most trusted allies.

(Holy shit, I’ve been using this .gif for the longest while and I’ve only just now noticed that the camera is framed on RNJR looking at Oscar in this known shot of Ruby complimenting Oscar on his new combat gear. I didn’t even realize that that Ren, Nora and Jaune were behind Ruby and my Pinehead heart is flipping out now because, if I needed any more signs about these four becoming Oscar’s Golden Circle, this is one of them). 

Since Ozpin’s Circle comprised of known characters from the Wizard of Oz since Ozpin himself draws inspiration from the Wizard of Oz, this squiggle meister really, really likes the idea of Oscar’s Circle representing characters from the Little Prince since Oscar seems to be influenced by his character.

Already I can picture Ruby obviously representing the Rose in Oscar’s little prince story while Nora is the Fox. You’ve heard me voice these thoughts time and time again.

However, I’m not quite sure who Ren and Jaune will be from the Little Prince. 

For Jaune, I’m toying with the idea of him being the Narrator or the Pilot in Oscar’s story since the Pilot was a character who befriended the Prince and told his story after they parted ways. 

I think Jaune being the Pilot for Oscar’s story works very well for me. Personally, I really would love for Jaune to become a big brother character to Oscar; growing to care about him deeply and looking out for him just as much as Ruby does. 

I still really love the idea of Jaune helping Oscar to sharpen and improve his tactical skills on the battlefield. I once shared a small theory about Jaune and Oscar bouncing off of each other with battle plans after Jaune noticed Oscar’s potential as a good strategist (similar to how Pyrhha acknowledged his potential). So Jaune, being the big bro that he is, does his best to nurture and encourage that side of the young boy, just as Pyrhha helped him long before.

I’ve grown weary of the Writers constantly fast-forwarding or downright omitting certain aspects of Oscar’s growth. It’d be nice if they took the time to show his progression and one idea I hope they do is showing more of Oscar’s growing bond with Jaune.

While I didn’t particularly like or enjoyed how they executed Jaune learning to appreciate Oscar’s presence on the hero team outside of Ozpin, I still recognized it as a highlight to indicate Jaune starting to chum up to Oscar. 

Outside of Ruby Rose, Jaune Arc is the second character I’m hoping Oscar grows closest to. If Ruby is to be Oscar’s best friend (and potential love interest), Jaune, in my eyes, will be his big brother---both in arms and off the battlefield. 

I’m looking at Ruby and Jaune to represent Oscar’s right and left hands---the people he turns to the most for guidance and comfort while Ren and Nora will form his legs (ironically)---representing the strong, firm, pillars that are meant to keep Oscar grounded and standing firm and tall.

 It is for this reason why I’ve been advocating so much for Jaune to personally ask Oscar to join JNR so that Team JNPR can be revived. 

And yes, I said JNPR. Not JNOR. Not even ORNJ. The leaders of each respective huntsmen team are always the first initials in their team name. This is why I never supported the ORNJ substitute team name since if Oscar is to join JNR, I don’t want him to be immediately appointed as the new leader---at least not right away while he’s still very green as a huntsman and certainly not while Jaune Arc is alive and well.

I wouldn’t expect him to. Jaune has always been the leader of his team. His part as a frontrunner has been important to his story since the get-go and I’d like for him to remain as leader of Team JNPR and continue to mature with that tactical and leadership role since my assumption has always been that Jaune Arc is destined to become a great leader at some point for his foreseeable future arc (like a Commanding General in the Second Great War of Remnant who goes down in history as the valiant commander who ended the second war to devastate the world).

Besides; JNR retaining their JNPR name after being revived is more meaningful to me. I like the idea of JNR once believing that their original team was lost after they lost Pyrhha only to have it rise from the ashes through Oscar who they will all soon realize is a perfect fit for them. 

I really like the notion of Oscar’s presence in JNPR and his comradery with the remaining three symbolizing that he’s meant to complete them and make their family feel whole again. Because at the end of the day, that’s what JNPR was and who they will continue to be: A family.

Seriously, all arrows seem to be pointing to Oscar joining JNR and reviving JNPR. Not only is Oscar’s last name Pine (adding back the ‘P’ in JNPR) but who better to revive them than the kid whose theme is reincarnation. C’mon. It is too perfect!

So yeah, Jaune is Oscar’s Pilot, in my books. 

This leaves Mr. Lie Ren. Who can Ren be in Oscar’s Little Prince Story? 

If I may be very honest here, I don’t have the slightest clue. In rereading the descriptions for the characters from the Little Prince, none of them really stands out to me for fitting Ren at all.

It is for this reason why I’m starting to lean toward  the thought of Ren sharing the role of the Wise Fox in Oscar’s Little Prince Story with Nora. 

Ren and Nora have been together since the start of the series. They’ve even known each prior to the main story of RWBY. So much so that the show has drawn attention to it once or twice.

“...We’ve been friends for sooooo long. What are the odds we’d still be together. Well, not together-together...”

They are always together and the series constantly likes to emphasize just how powerful their bond is along with their devotion to one another is. Ren and Nora have been through a lot together after surviving the fall of Ren’s former home in Kunoyuri while living on their own as orphans alone in the world at such a tender age. And through it all, they stayed together. They stood by each other through thick and thing and their strong friendship is what eventually made for an even stronger and very fitting love and romance.

In a way, I’d like to believe that Renora are the embodiment of the important lesson that the Little Prince learnt from the Fox.  The fox in the Little prince was a red fox and it is stated that red foxes are usually together in pairs. 

Therefore, I think both Ren and Nora can be Oscar’s Fox. Yeah, that works well for me.

Overall, this just affirms what I’ve been saying for the longest while. 

RNJR are meant to be Oscar’s Golden Circle. 

JNR will become Oscar’s surrogate family and siblings in arms whereas Ruby will become Oscar’s best friend, closest confidante out of the four and possibly, the love of his life.

I’d expect nothing less given the small hints between Volumes 5 and 6. Then again, I wouldn’t put it past the Writers to make sudden changes to certain previously established character dynamics after seasons of build up so…perhaps I should just keep my theories to myself and wait and see what’s to come for V7.

But all in all, I still would like for this Pinehead headcanon to be something to become canon in some shape or form. Maybe. Possibly. We shall see soon. 

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019) 

[sarahsfeministthoughts]

Week Thirteen: April 15th: The Human Wave: Immigration Stories

I was an accident. I wasn’t suposed to be here. Screams and sobs of sorrow filled the delivery room... as my mother had disobeyed the unspeakable rules… my mother had destructed her perfect white porcelain lineage… my daddy was brown.

My father, Jose, immigrated to New York City from Peru in 1969, at just 5 years old. He didn’t know the language but he knew Kung Fu. He had a severe obsession with martial arts legend Bruce Lee and committed his life to becoming just like him. He grew up in the projects of the Bronx and fought on the street every day, gaining a name for himself, taking down gangs and defending those who needed help. He was able to work his way up to eventually getting himself his own school and becoming a “Sifu” - the master. One day, my mom, Ingrid walked into his Kung Fu School…

I was born 9 months later.

The color of my skin being so light cushioned the fall a little…and once my eyes opened and were so big and blue, my mother’s family embraced me. They believed I didn’t do anything wrong… and if they shaped me right, banned me from learning Spanish or embracing any parts of my Latina identity… they believed I could be saved, pass as fully white and live a prosperous, privileged life, eventually marrying a rich white boy to solve and close the chapter on the inconvenience of my ingeneity.

My mother’s family provided us with a huge townhouse in the West Village upon my birth. They then filled our home with endless servants of color that were actually paid to be spies to report back on my father. Though he could not speak Spanish to me within such a controlled and monitored household, I began to learn about my Latina culture in other ways. My dad was “machismo” and he practiced that in different ways.

Firstly, the whole first floor of our house became my dads new Kung Fu school so I witnessed blood and violence every day and became very used to it. This was the frankest expression of his masculinility. The house always had atleast 10 men in it in workout clothes beating the shit out of eachother. This was taken further as all the media he forced me to consume was Chinese Kung Fu movies with eye balls being ripped out and heads flying across the room. I certainly wasn’t watching any teletubbies.

He felt the need to exercise control over me. This especially impacted my self expression as a girl. My “girlness” was curtailed by him and he would rip any skirt or dress that Gigi, my grandmother would gift me. He forced me to wear clothes of his choosing - picked from the boys section - big jeans and big tshirts with thermals underneath (even in the summer) out of a hyper fear of me being sexualized by men. To him, he was protecting me. He also would brush my teeth for me, telling me that I wouldn’t do it properly myself and practiced any way he could within the house to exert dominance that he couldn’t in the outside world.

I understood the sharp contrast between the social class and privilege differences between my mother and father at a very young age simply by the lifestyles. When visiting my fathers family, I would share a bed with 6 cousins. When visiting my mothers family, a chauffer would pick me up, maids would iron my church clothes, wake me with strawberry milkshakes and chefs would spoil me with whatever I desired. I was scolded at the dinner tables for not having proper table etiquette… however I had learned from my dad to just pick up a whole chicken and start tearing into it with no need of silverware.

My mother’s family didn’t understand his behavior and saw him as the biggest threat to my wellbeing and development. Therefore, my mother’s family worked hard to destroy the connection I had to my father. They did this in many ways.

Firstly, they tried to force me to associate the help (all persons of color) as “less then” as I’d watch them be pushed around, ordered and abused. I watched as they exercised their power over the help and I suppose they had intended for me to glamorize or romanticize how “powerful” they were.

Secondly, they gave me access to resources where I could access “superior exclusive knowledge” and paid for me to go to the most prestigous and expensive whitewashed academies where there were never more than 3 students of color and all of them were identified by their dependency on food stamps or the details of their scholarship. They were applauded for their brilliance, as if they were magnificent exceptions to their kind… and I quickly understood the truth was there were just not equal opportunities being given to them for them to even get to a level and equal playing field.

And probably most importantly, they endlessly attempted to assure me it was necesary for me to break any relations with my brown father and made sure I learned the word “golddigger”.

I was 5 years old when police sirens shattered me out of my sleep and 4 big men broke into my room with guns and dragged me out. I didn’t even cry, and later it was revealed to me that that was a concerning sign to them but I guess I was just so used to the chaos. I saw my daddy being ushered towards a cop car with handcuffs, held by multiple men. I locked eyes with him. He was humiliated. They had demasculated my father. They cradled me and they pushed and shoved him, smashing his face against the vehicle. I was 5 years old but I realized then and there that in this world, his life did not matter… but mine did. I had a voice… but he never would.

“Does your daddy ever touch you?”

What is a 5 year old suposed to say to that?

My mom was able to get him out eventually and the sexual assault against a minor charges were dropped… but our story was nowhere from over. Within two months, he was arrested again for “kidnapping” me. I understood that due to the color of his skin, my father was deemed as inevitably guilty of something. My father’s skin color made him a criminal… and my skin color made me his pure, fragile, victim.

I saw this even when I’d walk the streets with him hand in hand… the dirty looks I would recieve. I was being shown that by choosing to stand by my father, I was choosing the “losing” side. It would be easier to gallavant off with my mothers family and comfortably explore their manchines across the world. However, I loved my father and I could not let go of him. I was ready to reap the consequences of this.

My mother was hit first - they cut her money supply that she was dependent on and kicked us out of our townhouse, forcing us to struggle to find a rental within such short notice. We had come home to everything we owned outside of our townhouse. I began to associate my mother’s family with evil.

My mom turned to alcohol in her sadness and had great difficulty adjusting to such a simpler life. Desperate for money, my mom did as was as asked and my father was kicked out. I couldn’t help thinking how society had won.

She entered a new relationship immediately… He was (and is) an extremely dangerous alcoholic with a really bad temper. His name is Willy. He was actually one of my dad’s Kung Fu students.

He was (and is) extremely abusive and banged on my door every night to try to get in. I had to move my dressers in front to try to protect myself.

He encouraged my mothers alcoholism and they my mother began to abuse me as he abused her and I was the only one that she had the power to hurt. Child services visited almost every day as I’d come to school with bruises across my body. I never told on her. I just wanted to get through. Atleast once a month, she’d take it too far. I’d find her collapsed in her room with bottles scattted around her body, like flowers at a funeral. I took her to the hospital each time and they would say the same thing: “You’re going to kill yourself and leave your daughter all alone in this world.” She didn’t care. She loved alcohol more. She loved Willy more.

I was not safe within the confinements of school either. There, it was my gender that I began to learn about and experience how that made me a target.

My Math teacher requested my phone number and then used that to excessively attempt to facetime me and serenade me with emoji filled messages. He convinced me to join him alone in the school on weekends for extra help. When I went foward with my truth, I was shamed and told, “He’s such a nice guy!” and accused of lying and put on academic prohbation. This showed me that a white man could get away with anything and as a girl in relation to that, my word meant nothing.

My English teacher promised me A’s in exchange for my silence on his expressions of affection towards me. His flash went off when taking photos of me during a midterm.

Maybe, most impressively, the principal of my school developed a crush on me which caused him to impede upon my learning due to his need of constantly seeing me. A secretary would stick her head into every classroom door I was in and I would sink into my seat, knowing. “The principal needs to see you, Sarah.” I began whispering: “Do I have to…” When I would then sit across from him, he would pry about my daddy issues and offer me comfort I had never asked for. He would rub my back and play with my hair and I’d hold my breath and try to take my mind elsewhere.

When I was 14 years old, I was asked out by one of the only black kids in my school. Scholarship kid. I became super dependent on him because I had no one else. He learned about my family dynamic. He understood my vulnerabilities. He began to abuse me too. He told me he would kill me if I left him, and then he told me that I couldn’t tell anyone because he was black. And the sad part is I actually understood what he meant.

When I turned 18, I gained access to financial privilege - trust funds. I escaped. I moved out the same day. I was able to gain self power by drowning withself within my studies - allowing intersectional feminism to lead me and rescue me and allow me to understand how the personal is political and build the strength to stand up for myself. I now have a restraining order against my ex boyfriend and my mothers boyfriend as she still hasn’t been able to find her own strength to leave. I’m trying to work on personal relationships with both my mother and my father.

It saddens me everyday the realization that most kids in situations like me are trapped. My financial privilege saved me. This is a unique experience and it makes it that I have to do whatever I can to help those not as fortunate as me. No one should be stuck. I know what it feels like.

Overall, my identity is complex. I am biracial, yet I pass as white. I am a woman and that makes me unsafe in this world. I also have grown up experiencing two opposite socio economic classes and lifestyles. I have survived childhood abuse. I then survived domestic violence.

These markers of my identity make it impossible for me to choose to tune out and be ignorant to the injustices in our world. I believe that it is because of this that there is no better place for me than being a Global Studies major.

Everything is personal to me.

To me being a citizen in this world means doing my part to break every silence I’m expected to keep, no matter how hard it may be, because it cannot be underestimated how much this could help someone else.

I see so clearly all the interconnections of oppression and struggle as I have myself lived it. Therefore, to me, to be a true citizen of the globe is to embrace all these pieces that made me who I am and using them as fuel to be an advocate and pioneer for the change I want to see to better our world.

I will continue to share my authentic experiences and making sure that I use the that I have for good. I could have turned away, blinding myself from my Peruvian roots and taking the easier way -- I was shown directly the luxuries and peace I would experience if I was to fully seperate from my Latina and identify as white… but I chose not to. I chose to tune in and there is no going back now.

[everunbreakable]

Friday, June 15, 2012 – Victoria Gardens Adventure

I had the pleasure of partaking in another fun-filled road trip with Ronan. We hit the road for Victoria Gardens, an outdoor shopping center in Rancho Cucamonga. Plenty of memories were made.  Ronan seemed affected when I blamed myself for scraping the car, so I tried to be positive and forget about it – which I eventually did. This was probably because Ronan has a knack for soothing my anxiety.  On the drive to Victoria Gardens, I asked Ronan how his week had been so far.  “It was pretty good. I encountered this car-racing gang. You know those Tokyo Drift people?” Ronan asked me.  “Yeah.”  “They were racing their cars around, a mixture of different ethnicities.” This had occurred in Fullerton.  Ronan had also encountered a Nevadan guy who highly resembled Garrett, and even had that stream of arrogance.  “So did you ask your mom what insurance you have yet?”  “Oh, yeah. I did. She just said, ‘Oh, I’ll take you there, someday.’ So I was, like, ‘Okayy…’”  I laughed. “Maybe she’s in the process of changing insurance or something.”  Ronan let me choose songs on his ipod to play through the cassette-dock. When “Love the Way You Lie” played, I asked him what the song was about. It seemed like abuse.  “That’s a good question,” Ronan mused. “Have you seen the music video?”  “No.”  “It’s weird.”    The strip mall looked lovely.  We entered it through Macy’s. Once we were inside the Apple store, Ronan suggested that we prank call Richy with the iphones on display. I started muttering suggestions in the background ( “Remember last night?”), which Ronan went along with. I laughed particularly hard at his line: “How could you not remember me from last night? I was in your ROOM.” (in his deep, throaty voice)  I was also looking up haunted places in Rancho Cucamonga. Confederate soldiers and striped-shirt-donning old men with black dogs appearing on Foothill Blvd, which we passed on the way here.  “Looks like we’ll have fun at night,” Ronan said with a smile.  I would have been afraid if he wasn’t with me. We walked around for a while, scoping out all the stores in the outdoors mall.  Ronan mentioned that Trisha had texted him earlier in the week, something along the lines of “how are you? Hope you’re well.” He’d told Gendry about it, the latter revealing that Trisha had not been in contact with him.  I responded by saying that maybe Trisha’s attention was turning to Ronan instead, rather than Gendry.  “That’s what Gendry said, too,” Ronan said.  I laughed. “Oh, goodness, really? See, so it’s not just me, then.”  Didn’t seem like Ronan knew what Trisha was playing at.  Crate & Barrel was one of the next stores we raided. Plenty of fancy and unique kitchenware on the first floor, which Ronan and I perused in admiration and wonder.  There were desks/office furniture, beds, and couches on the second floor – but we mainly tried the couches.  There were quite a few that sucked us in and made us feel utterly unperturbed, even meditative.  There was a couch set where one of the couches resembled a bed, while the other had arm rests. After sampling the one that resembled a bed, Ronan moved on to the complementary couch piece and bade me try the former.  Ronan talked about how the couch I was sitting on was perfect for many things. “Watching TV, relaxing, sleeping. And for other things…” His voice trailed off.  I glanced over at him, waiting for the finish.  “Wink,” he said, grinning mischievously at me.  I laughed, as did he.   “But it’s so rough,” I pointed out, rubbing the couch. “There’d be so much friction.”  “That’s what makes it exciting,” Ronan said. I laughed harder. “Now I know what your fetish is!”  Ronan chuckled heartily.  We were briefly at H&M, but didn’t find anything we could buy Richy or Santino.  Ronan was thinking purchasing something for Richy, and creating something for Santino.  I thought those were decent ideas, but as it was we still wanted to see what our options were.  Ronan hadn’t eaten much earlier, so he when he finally decided to eat the sandwich I made him, we settled in what looked like the heart of Victoria Gardens. We were on stone benches framing a grassy area lined with white picket fences. There were rose bushes to my left. The scene was breathtakingly antique. I told Ronan I expected a stagecoach to materialize in any second, perfectly accentuating the scene.  I brought out the crate of strawberries, which we both ate from.  Ronan pointed out Ben & Jerry, an ice cream parlor that donated a percentage of all proceeds to charity.  I had made a maple syrup and peanut butter sandwich for Ronan, topped with a hint of cinnamon, which he had thought was jam due to its reddish hue.  “So what do you think of the peanut butter and maple syrup combination?”  “It’s pretty good. You’re becoming a great cook, Christy. It’s good that you’re experimenting more with these things.”  I flicked my hand. “Nah, it’s just a sandwich.”  “No,” he said gently.  The small meal filled him up for a bit; we proceeded to journey through the rest of the mall.  We explored more than we actually gift-scoped. I tried to breathe some fresh air into the situation by pointing out that we had opened our eyes up to the unfolding dynamics of a new place, territory that we had not navigated before. It had been an adventure!    We ran through the elaborate water fountain as it was off.  We’d been gazing at it from afar as we were eating by the picket fence. Ronan suggested running through it, like various other people had been doing... but -   “We don’t have any other clothes,” Ronan said. “And these shoes…”  I stared at his Converse. “Take them off, then?”  “Someone’s going to steal them,” he said.  “I’ll jump them!” I exclaimed. I never backed down in a fight when it came to him. He chuckled heartily.  Ronan suggested that I go first, knowing I like trying new things; he hesitated behind me, on the other side of the fountain. It was still calm in between water spouts.  I gestured for him to cross.  “It’s going to turn on when I cross,” he told me.  “No, it won’t,” I said bracingly. “Come on, Ronan!”  He surprised me by crossing, though slowly at first. He was usually so cautious and hesitant. It felt like a monumental moment. I stared at him in wonder.  “Hurry!” I grinned at Ronan, reaching my hands out for him.  He made it across, just before the water spouted up again.  “Yay!” I cheered. He was grinning, looking pleased.    By the library was a statue of William Shakespeare (or perhaps a pertaining character) on a bench next to a skull.  Ronan complied when I asked him to take a picture with the statue. He leaned into the crook of Shakespeare(?)’s open arm.  I overlapped a leg between Shakespeare’s legs, surprising Ronan.  “Sexy,” he later commented when he gazed at this picture of me.  It had been fun. Ronan scared me nearly a handful of times when the statue started to creep me out. I was happy to see him laughing so hard, even if I had been frightened consecutively.    Ronan ordered chicken pasta at Corner Bakery, where we had a mind-opening conversation.  I asked Ronan what his view on optimism was : which was more practical; reality-grounded optimism versus optimism tinged with a bit of delusional belief.  He chose the former; on delusions and dream worlds, he reckons a person has to know their limits. I thought that was very well-said.  Ronan pointed out the sign in the middle of the table. “Doesn’t that fruit dish look good?”  “Yes. It does.”  Asked him what his favorite fruits were : watermelons and honeydew. He doesn’t deem pineapple among the best.  One of the next topics was Ronan not having any more fun making sexual jokes towards Xyrad, simply because the latter was growing more comfortable with and open to such matters.  “I can’t really do anything to him now,” Ronan said. I knew he’d been having much fun messing with Xyrad for years – and me, perhaps even longer.  “Well… you can’t really do anything to me, either,” I gently pointed out.  He nodded, looking me in the eye. “I know. You’re changing.”  I smiled, my eyes tracing the table.  Another topic we discussed was my sexuality. It began because I was trying to explain that I’d done breast exams in front of the wall mirror on my closet’s sliding door – and my mistake had been that it was open viewing for the neighbors, whose windows were too close for comfort.  Ronan started to laugh, though he kept his mouth closed to prevent food from spewing out. I could tell he was immensely tickled.  But he still took another bite.  When he managed to reign the laughing just enough to speak, he asked me, in amusement, “Who’s the kinky one now?”  “I never said I wasn’t.” I smiled shyly as I watched him eat. “I’m just a little more secretive.”  “But you always freaked out towards me and Vicky,” Ronan gently pointed out, still smirking.  “Why were you so surprised?” I asked him, meekly.  He nudged his spoon into his bowl’s contents. When he spoke, his voice was gentle… very gentle.  “Christy, Christy, Christy… you don’t show it much.”  When he looked up at me again, I realized I was blushing.   Talk turned to other things.  When he asked, I described to Ronan the dress I had bought to wear to the 2012 Garden Grove High School graduation.  “Ivory, lace, with a bow sash at the waist.”  “That’s nice, then,” Ronan praised. “It’ll complement your skin tone.” 

I shared some of my favorite optimism-related quotes with him. I asked for his favorite quotations.  He told me he’s fond of “Carpe diem” (Seize the day!) as well as “Be the change you want to see in the world” (Gandhi).  I shared with him William Blake’s “Kiss the joy as it flies” as well as “The sun sets to rise again” and “Be not afraid of storms, for you are learning how to sail your ship.”    We exited Corner Bakery and walked around some more, scouring a lonely little bookstore before stopping to rest near the town square-ish place where we’d sat eating strawberries earlier. We sat at a nice table near the office/administration area, where the surrounding shops had an upstairs level, as indicated by the dark windows just above the glowing lanterns lined across the walls. There was a particularly creepy window that Ronan dared me to take a picture of. He tapped my shoulder as I was gazing up at it, causing me to shriek, which induced his spastic laughter. I started laughing, too.  “Enjoying yourself much?” I asked him, still grinning.  “Yes.” His eyes looked exquisitely alive as he looked back at me. I laughed some more, savoring the sight of my best friend looking utterly free.  “Oh, I remember another one of my favorite quotes now,” Ronan said, leaning against the chair. “’There are no such things as regrets - only experiences.’”  “That’s a good one,” I said appreciatively.  Ronan nodded. “It’s optimistic as well.”    Throughout the day, if our lagging on the gift-scoping ever became apparent, Ronan would point out, “We have five days.”  However, as we sat at the table, I was the one who had to reiterate, as it seemed he was becoming a bit more resigned on the matter.  “You’re falling back on that now?” Ronan laughed.  “Well, might as well, right? Besides, we had an adventure today. We opened our eyes to so many things.”  “That’s true.” What Ronan said next was highly amusing. “When it’s the morning of graduation, we’ll both go to Target. ‘Hmm.. do they like erasers? Yes, they need erasers for college.’ “  I laughed; this sort of crazy tangent was not something I often saw from Ronan. I really liked it, and I told him so.    I mentioned to Ronan the movie that parodies famous Alfred Hitchcock films. There was a scene that directly parodied “The Birds.”  “Ravens, I think it was, hold grudges because they can remember a human face,” I said.  “That’s cool,” Ronan mused. “I want a raven, then.”  I also told him the story about the guy who was killed by the cock, onto whose leg he had attached a knife to fight another cock in the pit he had forced his cock to jump in, though the sport is illegal. I would hardly call it a sport, though, as it’s animal abuse.  “His cock turned around and stabbed him,” I said.  Ronan laughed heartily for what felt like a while.    There was a vendor near us that sold hats. However, the disembodied doll’s head was out of place. Ronan tried to spook me about it, narrating its journey into my bag and how I would stick my finger into its open mouth.  I laughed heartily at how insane he looked as he said all this, his bangs tousled backwards. It made for a charming telling.    Before leaving the mall, Ronan led me back to the Shakespearean statue for a picture of the three of us.  The anticipation of him scaring me both frightened and amused me, but he didn’t do it.    We left Victoria Gardens when it was nearly ten p.m. We both turned on our GPS navigation devices.  Before Ronan merged us onto the freeway, we passed through a dark street, both sides of which contained production/factory plants. There was a cross-like thing suspended from I-didn’t-even-know-what. I filmed the eerie scene while Ronan drove.  A stench flooded the interior of the car briefly – about a block’s worth, for measurement’s sake.  “How is it penetrating your car?” I wondered aloud. “Could it be from the power plants?”  “It might not be. There weren’t any clouds from the plants. It smelled like something rotting. Now I know why there was a cross – it was haunted!”  Ronan told me that had we gone a bit farther than Victoria Gardens, he could have shown me the place where he and his sister had seen a man on the street before disappearing near Morongo Casino, the ambiance of which marked the settings of past deaths – perhaps of gamblers killing themselves, or each other over financial issues.  “That sounds intense,” I said.  “Mmmhmmm.”  We took the 57 S, which would take us home. However, Ronan accidentally branched off from it when he took the left lane, which we’d been on for a while.  We had to exit in Nutwood, which nearly immediately became Diamond Bar. On Colima Rd, I spotted a Boba Time as well as Korean McDonald’s to our right.  “That’s crazy,” Ronan commented when I pointed it out.  Diamond Bar transitioned to Rowland Heights; we were surrounded on both sides by dark trees that seemed to conceal unseen shapes. It was eerie, but we did eventually merge onto the freeway again.  We passed Cal State Fullerton without glimpsing Brea Mall.   “That was weird,” Ronan said. “Time warp!”  “Maybe the strangeness followed us from Buena Park,” I murmured.  Ronan nodded. “Probably.”  “Our last two road trips have been somewhat eerie,” I said.  “I know, right?”  Still, very fun and heartening.  It had all happened in a matter of minutes : the “time warp” and zipping through Brea and Fullerton. It was indeed very strange.    My GPS actually detected traffic – something it has never done.    We got back to his place before eleven.   “Well, today as fun,” I said, glancing over at Ronan. “Lots of memories and laughs.”  He expressed his agreement before getting out of the car.  I followed suit and exited his car; the air that was occupied by his cologne that smelled like the magic lurking in the forest was replaced by colder, summer night air.  Ronan was waiting at the back of his car, near mine. I had only taken a step forward when he reached an arm out to hug me, slouching down.  “Bye, Christy,” he said, holding me tight with the one arm he had around my upper back. “Drive safely.”  I rested my chin on his shoulder. “Bye, Ronan. Thanks for the fun day.”  He grunted.  “Want me to back out your car for you?” he asked me as we broke the hug. He did it anyway, turning on the emergency flashers before he exited.  “Thank you, Ronan.”  He watched me, a note of concern on his face, as I shifted gears to exit the neighborhood. It had been another one of my favorite days.

[njawaidofficial]

'Awards Chatter' Podcast — Snoop Dogg ('Martha & Snoop's Potluck Dinner Party')

http://styleveryday.com/2017/08/25/awards-chatter-podcast-snoop-dogg-martha-snoops-potluck-dinner-party/

'Awards Chatter' Podcast — Snoop Dogg ('Martha & Snoop's Potluck Dinner Party')

“I’m like a cat, man, I’ve got nine lives,” says Snoop Dogg, one of the most popular and influential music artists of the last quarter-century — a trailblazer in the world of gangsta rap and hip-hop who has received 17 Grammy nominations over the years, thanks to hits like “What’s My Name,” “Gin & Juice” and “Drop It Like It’s Hot” — as we sit down to record an episode of The Hollywood Reporter‘s ‘Awards Chatter’ podcast. We’re deep inside The Compound, a well-fortified building in Inglewood, Calif., that he owns and that’s filled with recording studios, screening rooms, a basketball court and ample supplies of marijuana, several blunts of which he smokes during our time together. “I’m connected,” he continues, explaining his secrets of survival. “I keep my ear to the streets, I never play the role of being too big or too grown or too much. I actually converted myself from big ‘Snoop Dogg’ to ‘Uncle Snoop’ — that’s the new thing. The rap generation treats me like I’m their uncle because I’ve always treated them like my nephews and showed ’em love and respected ’em and taught ’em and showed ’em the right way and never tried to get ’em in trouble and helped ’em out and just done that uncle thing that was never done for us in hip-hop.”

The rap generation isn’t the only one that loves Snoop Dogg. In fact, it’s hard to find anyone these days who isn’t high — pardon the pun — on the 45-year-old, a cool and colorful character who always looks like he just smoked (he probably did), never raises his voice and constantly finds way to reinvent himself and appeal to new and unexpected groups of people. Case in point? Snoop and Martha Stewart, of all people, are currently not only co-hosts of a VH1 cooking show, Martha & Snoop’s Potluck Dinner Party, but also each other’s biggest fans — and together are frontrunners to win the Emmy for outstanding host for a reality or reality competition program. “I find ways to make it interesting and still remain me at all times,” he says of life itself. “I’ve been able to be as gangsta as I want to be and be as positive as I want to be because that’s all part of me.”

(Click above to listen to this episode or here to access all of our 172 episodes via iTunes. Past guests include Steven Spielberg, Oprah Winfrey, Lorne Michaels, Meryl Streep, Eddie Murphy, Lady Gaga, Robert De Niro, Emma Stone, Will Smith, Jennifer Lopez, Louis C.K., Reese Witherspoon, Harvey Weinstein, Natalie Portman, Jerry Seinfeld, Jane Fonda, Ryan Reynolds, Nicole Kidman, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Taraji P. Henson, Justin Timberlake, Elisabeth Moss, Michael Moore, Kristen Stewart, J.J. Abrams, Helen Mirren, Denzel Washington, Brie Larson, Aziz Ansari, Stephen Colbert, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Warren Beatty, Jessica Chastain, Samuel L. Jackson, Kate Winslet, Sting, Tyler Perry, Amy Schumer, Jay Leno, Mandy Moore, Ricky Gervais, Kris Jenner & Jimmy Kimmel.

Snoop Dogg, who was born Calvin Broadus, Jr. and raised by a single mother in Long Beach, Calif., first burst onto the scene in 1992 as “Snoop Doggy Dogg.” He had been given the first part of the nickname by his mom, who felt that he loved the Peanuts character so much that he started to look like him; the second part was a play on the nickname of his cousin, who went by Tate Doggy Dogg. Snoop grew up singing in church and listening to old-school R&B music, but when gangsta rap first emerged in the 1980s, he fell in love with it and began singing it in the hallways at school, drawing crowds even then. Though he was a peacemaker inside the building, Snoop was drawn to the gang life just outside of it, perhaps seeking a father-figure. And though his activities with the Crips ultimately landed him in jail, he still says, “I’m thankful to have been part of a gang because that taught me leadership, brotherhood, understanding, right from wrong.”

While in jail, Snoop began rapping about fellow prisoners, some of whom convinced him to stay on the straight-and-narrow (more or less) so that he could realize the full potential of his gift. Once back on the outside, he teamed with Nate Dogg and Warren G to form the group 213, and audio cassettes of their music soon began selling like hotcakes out of car trunks. One tape made it into the hands of Dr. Dre, who was impressed and took Snoop under his wing; some Snoop-written songs (“Nuthin’ But a G Thang”) and many Snoop-rapped verses can be heard on Dre’s first album apart from NWA, 1992’s The Chronic, which proved a hit and led to Snoop himself signing with the same record label that repped Dre, Death Row Records. A year later, Snoop’s own debut album, Doggystyle, was released and, on the back of singles such as “What’s My Name” and “Gin & Juice,” debuted at No. 1, went multi-platinum and made him the face of Death Row — just as he was facing murder charges in connection to an incident that he suggests was a misunderstanding.

Snoop ultimately was found not guilty and emerged back into society just as gangsta rap’s East Coast-West Coast rivalry was reaching a boiling point at and after the 1995 Source Awards, catching some of his closest friends in the crosshairs. “None of the rappers were violent, but their homies were,” he explains. And by the time he put out his second album, The Doggfather, in 1996, his good friend Tupac Shakur was dead, Death Row chief Suge Knight was headed to jail and, with “everybody gone,” Snoop decided, he says, that he “just didn’t wanna be gangsta no more.” He began turning away from gangsta life and towards “pimp life,” with which he “was always infatuated as a kid,” and he feels that may actually have saved his life: “Without me having that strength to pull away, I don’t think I’d be here today.” By 2000, Snoop was projecting a friendlier version of himself, peppering his speech and songs with the idiosyncratic suffix “izzle,” starting with 2000’s “What’s My Name (Part 2)”; creating a youth football league in 2005; and even receiving an invitation to the White House to meet President Barack Obama (“a beautiful person”) in 2013.

Through it all, weed remained omnipresent in his life — but then again, that only made him look even more ahead of the curve, as the rest of the country began catching up. Snoop says he first stole a puff at the age of 6 and never turned back, because, in his view, why should he? “Look how good I look! Look how my mind works! Look how I’m on-point and I’m spontaneous in my answers and everything is flowing! Look how smooth my skin is! Look how long my hair is! Look at how I breathe! You understand me? I don’t do no alcohol, I don’t smoke no cigarettes, I just do this right here, and this is the results of it.” He reveals that the only person who ever out-smoked him was Willie Nelson (“He fucked me up … in Amsterdam on 4/20 about eight years ago. … It was like the mothafuckin’ Olympics”) and that his favorite munchie is Funyuns.

So how, you might wonder, does a man with this background wind up working alongside Stewart, the pride of lily-white Westport, Connecticut? “She’s been loving and caring towards people in hip-hop since day one,” Snoop asserts, noting that he also was “a fan” of hers and twice was a guest on her home living TV show. “She was always ‘hood’ to us.” The two wound up seated next to each other at Comedy Central’s 2015 roast of Justin Bieber, meaning Stewart inhaled a lot of second-hand smoke that, she later joked, left her feeling high. Whether or not she actually was, her roasting of Bieber was hilarious and went viral — “She fuckin’ stole the show,” Snoop recalls — and one of many who noticed was Chris McCarthy, president of MTV, VH1 & Logo, who was looking for a cooking show that might appeal to millennials. He pitched Stewart and Snoop, both said yes and, in tandem with producer SallyAnn Salsano (Jersey Shore), they hit the kitchen — or at least a set with side-by-side kitchens — along with celebrity guests ranging from Seth Rogen to Wiz Khalifa.

Snoop and Stewart look like they’re having a blast on the show, which Snoop says he does only because he enjoys hanging with Stewart, not because he needs further fame and fortune. With her, Snoop has a dynamic that shifts between mother/son, brother/sister and boyfriend/girlfriend. “She gets me white-boy wasted and I think it’s on purpose,” he chuckles, while confessing that he may have introduced Stewart, who doesn’t knowingly consume marijuana, to some anyway: “I may have dropped a few seeds here and there, ya dig?” More seriously, he says, “I’m learning from her a few things, and I’m also teaching her a few things,” adding, “She’s a survivor and she’s a beautiful spirit and I just love being around her ’cause she teaches me so much on etiquette and presentation and just how to be a better person. I’m thankful to have her as a friend and have her as a companion on television.”

Snoop continues, naughtily, “She’s beautiful, too! Did you see her old pictures when she used to rock them bathing suits? She was cold. She had those minks and she was sitting on the hill. She had nothin’ but bosses. She didn’t date no regular mothafuckas; you had to have at least a billion. ‘A hundred thousand? If you don’t get outta here! How many boats you got? You own what?'” More importantly, he emphasizes, she’s a role model. “Her age is the same age as Donald Trump,” he reasons. “You see his racist ways? That has nothing to do with right now. That’s the shit that’s in him, as far as how he was raised. If you’re raised that way, you’re raised that way; she wasn’t raised that way. She was raised to love people and have a kind spirit. She opens her home up, she feeds kids, she does things — she’s just a beautiful spirit. That’s attractive to me. It makes me want to be around that, because I want to grow to be her age and to be known for that — for somebody who’s not from my culture or not from my background to be able to do something with me and say, ‘Man, me and Snoop Dogg, we hit it off, and you would have never thought.'”

Man, me and Snoop Dogg, we hit it off, and you would have never thought!

Martha Stewart VH1

#Awards #Chatter #Dinner #Dogg #Martha #Party #Podcast #Potluck #Snoop #Snoops