On the day before Thanksgiving, while on their daily stroll through a section of Washington, DC that this nauseatingly cute, white hipster couple had dubbed the “Death Zone,” Silver Lillie-Blanton turned to her boyfriend Louis Guidry and said, “Your name came up again on the internet.” Thus begins the second installment of the series, “The 12 Days of the Lillie-Blanton Coronavirus Christmas.”
Following the election of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris and looking forward to a holiday season like no other, we take another look at what's going on within the Lillie-Blanton universe.
“I love Christmas more than anything -- other than shooting at things and making lethal contact,” the older white man said into the recording studio microphone. “Just got myself a Christmas present, a new Remington 7600. Santy Claus better wear some blaze orange when he comes around just to be sure.”
Because of financial difficulties, he will be forced to sell Mar-a-Lago. To the Obamas.
I feel as though I am about to exhale after holding my breath for 3 years and 360something days. Many people are calling for a return to normal, but who’s normal are we discussing? I suggest that we are going to have to create a new normal for ourselves, regardless of the outcome of the election.
The whole reason baseball hats were invented was to keep the sun out of ballplayers’ eyes. However, too many young people choose fashion over practicality, revealing their unsuitability. My daughters deserve better.
Public service announcements starring Dr. Roy Wood, Jr. and an earnest group of young white male and Black actors -- like the one scripted in this blog post – can help save lives.
If your fair town cannot hold a parade this Labor Day, you can enjoy Greenbelt, Maryland's parade from 2010. What a celebration of all that we share. In the midst of everything, it's just a joyful reminder that no one took your America away. It's always been here, if you just open your eyes.
Dexter’s eyes strayed from the computer monitors towards a wall on which hung 30 photos of family, friends, and events special to him. One photo of three people caught his attention. The photo was about 20 years old. Francis Hopewell, his 10-year old son Orson, and one of Orson’s friends waiting for a train at a station somewhere in England.
As I awake, the distance between my night and day feels like a demilitarized zone with hostile forces on either end defending their territory through hi-powered rifles loaded with fear and doubt.