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Friday, April 24, 2026

Taking the Weekend Off to Cook, Soak, and Enjoy Me... No Apologies Needed



This weekend is not about deadlines, expectations, or explanations.
It’s about me.

No apologies. No overthinking. No proving anything to anyone.

Just peace… the kind you create on purpose.

I’m taking the time to cook real meals, the kind that fill the kitchen with warmth and remind me of who I am at my core. I’m soaking physically, mentally, emotionally letting everything that tried to weigh me down over the past two weeks dissolve, one breath at a time. And most importantly, I’m enjoying me. Fully. Without interruption.

Because after these last two weeks, I’ve earned it.

Let’s talk about it…

The past two weeks have been intense mentally, emotionally, and professionally. I’ve had to stand my ground in situations where silence would have been easier but not right. I’ve had to advocate for myself in environments where my voice should have already been respected. I’ve revisited conversations, emails, and moments that made it clear: what I experienced was not imagined it was real, and it mattered.

There were attempts to dismiss my concerns.
Attempts to reframe my truth.

Attempts to make me question my own experience.

But here’s what I know now more than ever: I don’t need validation from the same place that caused the harm.

I’ve been navigating wrongful termination concerns, retaliation, and a clear failure to accommodate while also managing the emotional toll that comes with being misunderstood, misrepresented, and underestimated. I’ve had to gather my strength, organize my thoughts, and prepare to stand firm not just for myself, but for what’s right.

And that’s not easy.

At the same time, I’ve continued pushing forward drafting letters, preparing for legal steps, responding with professionalism even when I didn’t receive the same in return. That takes discipline. That takes control. That takes growth.

But let me be clear: strength doesn’t mean I don’t get tired.

It means I know when to pause.

And this weekend… I’m pausing.

Not because I’m giving up but because I’m refueling.

There is power in stepping back.
There is healing in choosing yourself.
There is clarity in stillness.

This weekend is my reset.

No courtroom language.
No corporate emails.
No defending my truth.

Just me grounded, present, and at peace.

Cooking what I want.
Resting how I need.
Reconnecting with the version of myself that doesn’t have to fight to be heard.

Because she already knows her worth.

So if you’re reading this and you’ve been pushing through your own storm this is your reminder:

You don’t always have to fight.
You don’t always have to explain.
You don’t always have to show up for everyone else.

Sometimes… you just need to show up for you.

And that’s exactly what I’m doing.

This weekend, I choose peace.
I choose rest.
I choose me.

No apologies needed.

APPLEBEE'S IN GULFPORT APRIL 2024

DURING PLAYOFFS YOU CAME TO MY JOB

Repost from 4/23/25


Title: A Family Affair: When the NBA Turns "Stalking" into "Personal Theater"

Last year around this time, life in Gulfport, Mississippi took a strange turn. From April through July 2024, I found myself being subtly yet unmistakably followed by Scottie Pippen once again, he came to my job!!!

Yes, that NBA. The same organization that often claims to “know nothing” had shadows tracking my every move, like I was suddenly part of a reality show I never signed up for.

It became more than coincidental. During the NBA Finals on June 16, 2025, things escalated. One of the family members yes, a relative showed up at my job. As if that wasn’t invasive enough, my supervisor casually dropped a bomb: “Oh, I know the whole team in Memphis.” Well, that explains a lot.

For those watching closely (and apparently many are watching), it’s obvious this isn’t some isolated moment. This has become entertainment to them—NBA players, their families, even the Wives of Miami. They laugh, narrate, and repurpose my life into material, forgetting the very real implications of obsessive stalking. 

And let’s not forget: this is all happening without my permission. I didn’t ask for this spotlight. I’m simply existing and somehow, that’s enough to warrant surveillance-level attention.

It’s wild to consider, but true: I’ve become the unwelcome centerpiece of their twisted game.

The patterns are undeniable. Every game, I can feel the eyes. Whether it's the friends, the fans, or the families someone’s watching, recording, commenting. It’s not paranoia if it’s factual.

And this post? It’s not for me. I’ve come to terms with their obsession. This is for you the outsider. The person still trying to connect the dots. 

Let me help draw the lines. Even the judge knows something suspicious: originally, I asked for a two-week extension... they were granted six. Think about that.

To be clear, I’ve never been a fan of Lisa. Never will be. I don’t engage with junkies—past, present, or future. This latest incident just piles onto a well-documented history of stalking involving this family. 

And the funniest part? They narrate their moves. Literally. If you listen close enough, you’ll catch it how they follow, how they twist, how they joke.

Oh, and let’s clear the air on one last rumor: Scottie’s biggest insecurity has always been that I don’t date Black men. 

Wild, right? Fans also love to assume I was ever attending Bulls games for Pippen. Not true. If I was in the building, I walked in with Michael Jordan. Period.

And yes I did catch last night’s game. The highlight moment? Go to 3:45 in the video linked here. 

You’ll hear it for yourself:
“Get his star player a greeter here…” Whew. Too funny. That line alone is proof they’re still at it.

At the end of the day, this is bigger than basketball. It’s about personal space, respect, and knowing when a “game” crosses the line into obsession.

Thanks for reading. Keep your eyes open sometimes the court spills out into real life.

I WILL HAVE SUMMER SHOWS AND EVENT LOADED BY THIS WEEKEND

YOUR WELCOME VEGAS (7)!!! Back to NBA #LUCKY 7 DID IT AGAIN!!!


My only question to you is "What number will you choose"?

Tom Brady makes me sick... #spoiled 

Well you have the stage set for Superbowl 2029

Surround him with a strong defensive line, talented receivers. 

Is my cousin Preston Clipper still with the team??? 

LONDON GOT JOKES... #REALLY


DON'T ASK ME AGAIN!!! WHY I REMOVED USHER & BROWN TICKETS FROM MY PAGE

Kendrick Lamar - Bitch, Don't Kill My Vibe (Explicit)

Devonte Pippen Funeral, thank you for "remembering" me on this day

I'M LAUGHING TOO HARD TO CRY #STOOPID


Thursday, April 23, 2026

WE THEM ONES COMEDY TOUR SUMMER VEGAS MAY 23, 2026


 


VEGAS: IF MY UNEMPLOYMENT KICKS IN...

 I PROMISE TO BUY THIS TICKET...

 PERSONAL MONEY OF COURSE 

TLC.... SALT N PEPPA... EN VOGUE




 

NFL DRAFT #REMOTE FROM BOOTH TONIGHT ONLY

CODE 21... I GOT JOKES!!!

I AM IN MY ROOM CONDUCTING "MEDICAL MARIJUANA" RESEARCH ON PTSD


Trump admin reclassifies state-licensed marijuana


Trump Admin Reclassifies State-Licensed Marijuana

I see the headlines. I hear the noise. And somehow, it always circles back to me.

But let me be clear  I’m not running to you.

Donald Trump, you wanted to be President. You reached that goal. You stood on the stage, took the oath, and fulfilled that dream. So tell me  why should I feel the need to say another word?

Because I don’t.

What I do have is my own vision.

I don’t want politics. I don’t want attention. I want ownership. I want peace. I want to build something real a resort-style, all-inclusive property filled with life, music, culture, and opportunity. That’s my focus. That’s my dream.

Not this.

Not the mental exhaustion.
Not the pressure.
Not the constant feeling of being watched, analyzed, or pulled into something I didn’t sign up for.

I’ve been pushed to the edge mentally before. And I refuse to live there again.

There are things that weigh heavy on me  names, memories, moments that don’t just disappear. Devonte. Kobe. Pain doesn’t fade because the world moves on. It stays, and sometimes it speaks louder than anything else.

And when it gets loud, I don’t run to politics I run to healing.

Yesterday, I bought herbs. Not for attention. Not for a statement. But because I needed to ground myself mind, body, and soul. That’s what this is about for me: survival, healing, and peace.

So when marijuana becomes the headline, don’t twist it into something bigger than it is. Don’t use it as a signal, a trigger, or a way to pull me back into conversations I’m not trying to have.

I’m not responding like that anymore.

If I have something to say, I’ll say it directly  like I always have. Whether people agree or not has never stopped me before.

And let’s be honest  I’m not hard to reach. I don’t need stages or spotlights. I can pick up a phone, send a message, or handle things privately like an adult. I don’t chase attention.

What I did ask for clearly  was access to resources. Real ones.

Support for a woman-owned business.

Loans. Grants. Equipment. Operations.

Not charity. Not handouts. Opportunity.

And I didn’t send that request.

Why?

Because I’m not begging.

Not you. Not anyone.

So if the question is what triggers me it’s not headlines. It’s not politics. It’s not even you.

It’s exhaustion.

I’m tired of being tired.

Tired of the noise.
Tired of the pressure.
Tired of feeling like I have to respond to things that don’t align with my purpose.

Because at the end of the day, I know what matters to me.

Building something meaningful.
Protecting what’s mine.
Finding peace in a world that doesn’t always offer it freely.

You asked what means the most to me?

My life.
My family.
My sanity.
My future.

So while the world debates policies and headlines, I’ll be over here choosing myself.

And that’s not up for negotiation.

YOU LOOK WORRIED ABOUT ME... IF I DID NOT KNOW BETTER YOU LOOK LIKE YOU CARE


 

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