Recently I spoke to my cousin, who lives in Alabama, on the phone and he flatly said, “you won’t believe the sh** that happened to me.” He starts telling me about this pretty young thing he met in the club Saturday night. He spared no details; apparently, with a body like hers she should compete with Buffie the Body for the Horse Award. They exchanged numbers and planned to meet up the next day. The next day they spoke on the phone and set up a time to get together at her place. When he pulls up in front of her house he hears a bunch of commotion, sounds like some sort of domestic dispute. Things are crashing in the house; but he ignores it. Ms. Fatbooty, as Mos Def would call her, is not picking up her phone either. Again he hears a big boom. Before he could blink, the door opens up and there stands a man throwing a suitcase and the pretty young thing from the club out the door. She’s in a t-shirt sans underwear; she looks over to my cousin and then turns back to the door, banging so that the man will let her back in. My cousin, not wanting to end up in an episode of ‘where keeping it real goes wrong’, pulled off and then called the police. Later on when he spoke to her, she said the man gave her a black eye, apparently he beat the young lady up pretty bad. Continued at HipHopWired.com
See the rest here:
Stop Blaming The Victim
