Dear Wendy "COKEHEAD" Williams...

Photo Credit: Who cares, someone's camera broke shortly after taking this shit anyway.

Sup CUNT WHORE..."how you doin'?":

So...it appears that your husband likes trannies. Well, no shocker there.

I feel sorry for your son when he googles your fuckery of a life. Allow me to add in, or should I say fill in the blanks...

I bought both of your books. I've always been a radio fan; I grew up listening to it. Music was key in my upbringing. My father died when I was 6. The radio kept me on time for everything, as I had no one around to really tell me what to do, but let's get back to you.

It started back in the early 90s when you were on Hot 97; hip hop was in its prime. From the greats of the 80s black people finally created a platform to make money...legally...and get paid by 'the whites.'

But sadly, you forgot that. It started with the "He's Gay..." rumor. The HE I refer to, is Sean 'Diddy' Combs, or Puff Daddy, whom he was known as at the time. But you forgot to mention that you'd broken the "CODE"...blasted a fellow host, Angie Martinez about her relationship with Q-tip (check Wikipedia, HOE.)

Now, whose fault was it that you lost your job? You think about it, BITCH.

Never mind that stereotypes such as 'black people are drug dealers' were rolling about. Never FUCKING MIND that YOU were a former (and at that time still current) COKEHEAD.

So now, WE must, as 'the blacks', take one shot for you, all because some idiot gave you a fucking platform.

Now, as I recall, you did radio in college. I thought it was Syracuse University but it was Northwestern University, to be exact. At least, that's where you said you went...

It also says you did radio in college, another fact I did remember. I'd love to see your motherfucking transcripts, along with an ACTUAL DIPLOMA. There's no way you studied communications or journalism; you should have known better. You had to know what type of bullshit would ensue after.

Keep in mind that radio salaries were bullshit at that time, so you were making money off of other hustles; parties and whatever appearances asked of you to attend.

Let's fast forward to your official "return" back to NYC in the early 2000s on 107.5 WBLS. At this point you were married, had your kid, and were back in the place where it all "began" for you.

Frankly, I wasn't impressed. You were up to your shameful bullshit tactics, adding some muscle to your team (Charlemagne Tha God), because someone needed to balance your bullshit. Then it happened. Method Man's wife was battling cancer, and rather than have some RESPECT, you decided to announce it via a nurse at the hospital she was at (is that shit even legal?) with no regard to her or him at all. She hadn't let members of her immediate family know...if you knew anything YOU STUPID CUNT, cancer mainly begins from stress. But fuck her, right?

Fast forward even further. I was representing Dres from Black Sheep and Buckeey from "Flavor of Love 2" at the time. She was in NYC, and we had some places to attend. Your husband and Charlemagne drove us around after I parked my car. Then we caught up to you downtown at a spot not too far from Little West 12th Street.

I wanted to ask you about radio, but I wasn't there for that. It was my client's time, so I wanted to introduce myself as a publicist (READ: Another black woman trying to make it)...the next day, the homie emails me...

"Wendy is talking about you on the radio."

So I tune in, and you're going in about my "nobody" clients...I also assume you were too coked up to remember my name...and thank GOD; it could have ruined business for me.

I don't know what your hatred is for your own kind, but what I do know is you are FULL OF SHIT. You blast your own for ratings, but when 'the whites' accepted you, you decided to make good. But by then, many wouldn't even think about coming on your show. You had to basically apologize to Whoopi Goldberg just to gain a tad of respect.

You do know the road to hell is paved with good intentions, right?

I never forget BULLSHIT, you CUNT WHORE COKEHEAD. You need to pray for your son's future, and get a fucking life. Don't give advice to Whitney Houston unless you are ready to accept that you are really a man, and just a human. Like everyone else.

You can suck a dick, as far as I'm concerned, since you and your husband probably share that in common anyway. I'll never apologize to you.

In my eyes, you will always be a CUNT COKEHEAD WHORE.

Think Staten Island, BITCH.

xo,
Black Daria ;/

Dear LeBron James' mother: Why are you such a HUSSY?

Photo Credit: Boston Herald

Dear Lebron James' mother:

You know, they say you shouldn't talk about someone's momma, but you are an exception to the rule.

What is it about your ratchetness (yes, that's a made up word) that makes you think it's a good idea to get drunk, smack a valet, and ask him if he knows who you are? Why would he know a common hooker/whore? I mean, was it not enough that you embarrassed your son by sleeping with a man your son's age...can you say creepy and disgusting?

All I know is if you were my mom, I'd disown you. Expeditiously. Your son is probably one of the highest paid athletes, and kudos for giving birth to him, but that's usually what happens when one gets pregnant. They usually end up having a baby.

Oh, and no, I don't know your name, and don't care...trust me, I am doing you a favor by not calling out your government.

xo,
Black Daria ;/

Dear Lil' Wayne: You're Being Set-up for Failure.

Source: Web

Dear Lil' Wayne:

I am not quite sure how I feel about your release, I guess because upon the conditions of your release. If anyone thinks that your lips will not touch a glass or a freshly-rolled joint, then they are as naive as a child who thinks Santa Claus truly exists.

Not only do I think this is a set-up, but it's definitely one destined for failure.

Let's just look at the picture above. You are certainly sipping on some Hennessey.

SMH...let the games begin.

xo,
Black Daria ;/

Dear Bow Wow: You Are Depressed, and You Are Making Me Depressed

Source: Web

Dear Bow Wow:

Congratulations. Your tweets have officially made me more depressed than I get watching the many anti-depressant commercials I watch on a daily basis. I'm trying to figure out something:

1. If you want to go to school, why can't you just go? Could have sworn I read an interview where you said you wanted to Harvard someday...so...what's the issue? You certainly have enough money to pay for the application.

2. Why haven't you gotten a therapist yet? You can afford that too.

3. What are you hoping to achieve by telling your followers on Twitter that you hate yourself?

I honestly just don't really understand. As a person who's had "regular jobs" trust me, it's less than desirable. Although I understand your problems, I just can't muster up enough strength to be sympathetic to your problems or issues. You've officially pissed me off.

Man up, this is bitchy looking, and just a very "drama queen" move. Even I don't have my worst days documented on Facebook or Twitter for a reason.

Sometimes, it's just too much information.

xo,
Black Daria ;/

Stalking: A Bitchassness Study

Dear People:

First off, let me just say this: stalking is one of the pussiest moves that has ever occurred to man. Imagine living in your house, and you get a call, but the person hangs up.

You're alone...you hear a car pass by, then there's commotion on the street soon after. Your heart starts to race slightly, and soon after, coldness rises up your left arm...the feeling is thus moving closer to your heart, and suddenly panic ensues.

Goosebumps.

So...let's go back to a recent stalker who admits his stalkery: Lyfe Jennings. He's following the mother of his children, and basically could have killed her, leaving his child motherless; not thinking he will get caught, he exhibits bitchassness in full form...and with no qualms about it.

Now you're going to jail...and your kid loses both parents...but fortunately, she's alive. But now she has to bring YOUR kid to see you stupid ass in jail.

Question: Are you fucking nuts? Answer: Yep, you are.

It's recently occurred to me that I too, have a stalker. Here's the difference between myself and most women. I'm not afraid of bitchassness. If a man put his car, let alone his hands on me, he should probably murder me. I'd even go to jail to prove my point. Watch the movie Civil Brand for details.

Ladies: do not allow this type of bitchassness to occur in your life. If you think you're a victim, just look yourself in the mirror and say "No Mas."

Bitchassness can not occur. Not when Obama is in office, and certainly not on my fucking watch.

xo,
Black Daria ;/

Early AM Madness in NYC: A Black Daria Perspective

Waiting again to get into BB Kings...but, I like hood shit so...I waited.

As I waited, a horse carriage appeared...I didn't know they did that on 42nd Street...I found that interesting... I didn't get in but the party essentially came to me...a limo passed with an open area in the back as a group of dudes on motorcycles passed. The motorcycle guys stopped and the girls started showing their asses...literally.

And then another horse carriage appeared; what type of dog and pony show are they running on 42nd Street? I jumped back on the train to the Heights, which was interrupted by bus shuttle service. Aren't we paying more for the fares? They really need to get it together, it's kinda ridiculous.

Oh, I also think they should bring hookers back on deck on 42nd...simply because it's very entertaining. I think the tourists would appreciate it, they can take pictures with them...oh, I also noticed the Naked Cowboy retired and he's got a replacement...Some things will never be the same.

Oh...I went back outside and then...



Something bad happened. More fun times.

xo,
Black Daria ;/

P.S. Tonight's driving was atrocious...people, please follow the rules of the road. Like seriously...get it together. Oh, don't drink and drive. Be responsible. Thanks.

Sean Malcolm's Birthday Party @ Honey Lounge - My thoughts...

Source: My iPhone 4 - My Winnings

So...I waited on line for approximately...20 minutes, but it was worth the wait....the roaring twenties, one of my favorite decades, was selected as the theme for Sean's party. Oh, and he's the EIC of King Magazine for those readers who aren't hip to folk. I get it...now you know.

I was hungry, so I ordered Buffalo Wings with Rice and Beans...and Guacamole. Finally an event where they actually serve food that you like. And they were good, except one was cold. Oh well, they were good anyway.

Had a quick chat with Shakara Bridgers of Get Em' Girls. She really inspires me. And because I hate most, if not everyone...you should get into her. I also saw Datwon Thomas of Global Grind looking very nice in his white tuxedo. I also appreciate a Fedora; his was cocked to the side...my kinda style. Kel Spencer and Anslem Samuel of NakedWithSocksOn.com also donned the attire of the evening...sexy suits fellas.

Also in attendance was Nekia Seymore (below) of the Cocoa Luv Chronicles.

Source: Facebook

Her partner in Crime Shayna D was also there looking cute as always. An added twist was that they also played Jazz...I appreciated the fact that overall you had to be in some type of formal wear in order to attend.

Fuck your hoods, get a suit and grow up. Fun times overall.

xo,
Black Daria ;/