Vera Baker is the hot topic of the hour (click here)…and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why. I just don’t see the mystery.
But first, let me be a bit preemptive. To those of you who are going to say that a politician’s personal life has no bearing on whether or not he’s able to do his job, let me just say…DEEZ NUTS!! The ability to exercise good judgement and impulse control are the hallmarks of a good leader. And if he can’t manage to execute those in his home, I absolutely question his ability to do them on the job. Look at at a person’s home to determine if they are an effective manager. You don’t have to believe me, you can ask John Kerry.
So, that’s why we need to discuss this.
First, my mama ain’t raise no damn fool – My Boo and Ms. Baker were just workin’ together? More like, they were workin’ IT OUT together. The question ain’t “if,” the question is “when!” Folk already know that the Obamas’ marriage has come back more times than Jay Z. These days, with marriages being nothing more than Ponzi schemes of booty, it’s more common for couples to hit a rough patch over some random piece of ass every now and than. Add to that, the pressure of limelight and you’re bound to have fresh or recycled groupie drama on the side. Even the broke down brothas gotta fresh groupie or two. I know a dude who works at the post office, he got a side chick cuz of his good gov’ment bennies. As much as it breaks my heart, it’s entirely feasible and even highly probable that My Boo stepped outside the marriage back then. It’s not surprising, disappointing but not surprising.
What does surprise me is that folks seem to be tryna kick Michelle Obama’s back in. Even if she did send that trick away, so what? That skank DID take a run at her man. Quite frankly, exile sounds a lot nicer than an ass whoopin’ don’t it? Somewhere there’s a groupie with a kicked ass walking around wishing she had been sent out to pasture in Montana somewhere. But there always been rumors swirling about Michelle’s psycho jealousy even before her alleged exile of Vera Baker. Now, I have no personal knowledge of the situation but I am a card carrying member of CSI (Cheating Spouse Inspectors) so lemme grab forensics kit and let have a look?
So, the rumor says that Michelle Obama had Ms. Baker exiled to…Martinique. WHAT? That don’t even SOUND right! Now, I’m not a rocket scientist but it seems to me that if I got wind of a relationship between my high-powered husband and hot young thing, the last thing I’ma do is send her someplace tropical and French-sounding. Mess with my man and your ass is gettin’ exiled to Mogadishu or Baghdad or Detroit, y’know, someplace war torn and forsaken. And not just cause I’m bitchy like that, why send her ass somewhere romantic so I could locate my missing man in the arms of his mistress in some tropical paradise. Hell, no! Who am I…Jenny Sanford? Sorry, I just refuse to believe this Chicago sista rewarded this stunt (the act AND the broad) with no damn all-expense paid vacation package unless this ho is wandering around Martinique with a black eye and a mysterious limp, blinking too much and answering to the name Conchita. The real deal is that Barack’s people sent her ass down there to keep her ass quiet. Why Martinique? I dare you to find a reputable news source that reports to or from the island. I found an online news source and searched on Vera Baker, their newest, most famous resident; no results. Hmmmm….convenient.
Now, Vera n’em will tell you that she left cuz she fell in love with a Caribbean man. Well, let’s rap a taste ’bout that? There you are, you’re in your twenties, working for a fine-ass future president in a prestigious role. Finance Director, that’s what they called it, right? I’ll spare you all of the puns and play on that title that I came up with. Sufficed to say, I had fun. Anyway, you’re clearly makin’ more damn money than you’re worth, well, for “directing the finances” anyway. In spite of all that, you fall in love with a man and move to a small, disconnected island paradise. To do what? Wear clamdiggers? Make curry goat? Raise chickens? I don’t know a man on earth who would wants any part of a chicken that dumb. It’s okay, ho, you got run outta town. Michelle Obama ain’t no joke. You was ’bout to had got dealt wit’…I woulda left, too.
See, much has been made of Michelle Obama’s insane jealousy. She’s jealous of Vera Baker, Oprah, Beyonce, Desiree Rodgers, groupies…you name her, the media will tell you she’s jealous of her. Isn’t this a mischaracterization of what’s actually going on? The implication, of course, being that the jealousy is baseless. Come on! All these broads was gunnin’ for her dude! E’re…last…one. How come even Etta James’ old nasty, gyrating oversexed ass can get all the way through “At Last” without shooting sexual thunder darts out of her eyes but Beyonce can’t? Look, I totally get it. When that man gets to doin’ that walk…woo-wee!! Look, is the man not known to my friends and family as My Boo? Michelle’s reaction ain’t jealousy. It’s self-defense. In spite of what’s going on the political scene, she’s got a marriage and a family to protect. And I have a feeling that she’s the type of chick to pull out all the stops (and all your tracks) to protect her family…and her mama got her back. Be careful, skanks, last I checked, self-defense will get her off in every state…just in case she gotta go in a bag on somebody’s ass.
Now, all this is cool but at the end of the day, if My Boo cheated on his wife and me…he’s a pig. A fine ass pig. A fine ass powerful pig. A fine ass powerful pig who walks around like he’s carrying a stick of dynamite in his pants. A fine ass powerful pig who walks around like he’s carrying a stick of dynamite in his pants and hangs a suit like nobody’s business. A fine ass power- Damn! Call me, Boo!