The dating pool has pee in it.

So… I went on a date about a month or so back. Interesting guy to say the least. He was about 40 years old, father of 3 and a divorce, (wait, let me fix that he was in the middle of a divorce, so technically still very married).  I don’t know why folks feel the need to lie or omit  that tid-bit of info. Being divorced means you signed paper work and the courts said YUP you 2 are officially unhinged don’t kill each other, cause criminal court  is down the block. I unfortunately find this out, AFTER the fact! Back to the message at hand. So were talking and he seems very pleasant and sweet. We ask one another all the pertinent questions, how many kids we have, where we grew up, where our families are from. The conversation is going great, time is undoubtedly passing, I need to head home its getting late. So we arrange to meet up again, now being more aware I don’t give him my cell #, cause Spokeo is the DEVIL and anyone can be a private eye! I  signed up for one of those apps where you get a free number that you can use to text/call, I’M LEARNING FOLKS! We speak here and there and text over the next couple of days, while we’re at work. Its nice but hes doing too much with the baby and beautiful and asking if I missed him?. Now Im not saying complimenting isn’t great for the ego, who doesn’t like to be told they’re beautiful? But when you’ve just met someone and they’re calling you baby or everything but your name its an immediate put off. Unless you have Alzheimer’s recalling my name shouldn’t be a difficult task. So I took note of that. The 2nd time we met up, I was already leery but listened. We talked this time he went into great detail about his life, issues with soon to be ex wife (he admitted at this point being married but that they both lived separate from each other).  By this time he’s touching my hand,  and tried to kiss it.. STOP!!!! Nope!!! I pulled my hand back and said listen I don’t like being touched…2nd time you’re seeing me and we’re touching and trying to run his fingers through my hair! Am I in a bad 80’s movie? All that was missing was a Miami Vice suit, silk shirt and taco meet on his chest… I started to explain my being divorced and that after some time we’ve gotten to a point where we’re good friends and can parent our children as well. He then proceeded to tell me, he cant ever be friends with his ex cause she cheated on him. I told him, you never know, things can change, sometimes you just need to work at it. He asked if I ever had anyone cheat on me? Without going into details I said yes and I broke up with him very soon after. He then said, I shouldn’t  have done that, that 90% of men cheat, that I should accept it. When I tell you the screw face!!!


He proceeded to say that all people cheat, BUT he cant accept anyone cheating on him.. I swear I started to laugh! Thinking is this man serious?! Then he started to tell me that he’s looking for a serious relationship no games and that I should tell him what I’m looking for. That he is a grown man and not about having friends all over, even though he did go on to tell me he has “friends” that he’s dealing with but would stop once we got serious. Then he went on to my friendship with my ex husband and he’s not comfortable with it, if we were together he wouldnt be comfortable with my kids father being in my house especially if we lived together. That if he came to the house he would have to wait outside to pick up the kids. When I tell you I BUSTED OUT LAUGHING!!! I looked him in the face and told him, you do realize we’ve only been speaking to each other for a week. WTF? He proceeded to tell me he saw a future with me and that when he wants something he gets it. Even better that God has placed him in front of me.. Forgive me for my lack of catching holy spirit church holy dance! Fawda God has sent me a winner! Let me dig deep and find it

download5.jpg.Whoop found it!

He also thought that he would be the right one to give me a daughter since I only had boys.. My ovaries felt violated after that and wanted to vacate the premesis immediately! Needless to say after letting him babble on, I sat and thought to myself:

a) I’m not sure how I got here and if I could fit through the window in the bathroom (damn small bathroom windows)

b) He’s got issues that my medical insurance wont ever be covering.

c) Is this for real, is he like one of those IG or Youtube actors? Am I being taped?

d) Does this shit dribble he’s spewing really get women? Do they throw panties at him like they did when Luther performed?download8.jpg  Singing Never too  much never too much!

Pulling myself back to my awkward reality at the moment.. I tell this man that listen, you will never EVER have to worry about my kids Dad making you uncomfortable with his presence cause well.. You wont ever have that opportunity much less living with me and my kids.. My ovaries and vagina are Hillary and you’re Trump never the 2 shall meet. So, I thank you for this very informative date.. umm meeting.. wait no.. time that I will never get back. I do thank you for being so honest, I’m sure you’ll find a woman who will want to not only bear your babies but also love doing those bi-weekly clinic visits for STD’s..

That was the 1st time I ever memorized the exit route out a restaurant.. Feet didnt fail me!





Winter is Coming: Cuffing Season Approaches

FeaturedWinter is Coming: Cuffing Season Approaches
Cuffing Season
During the Fall and Winter months people who would normally rather be single or promiscuous find themselves along with the rest of the world desiring to be “Cuffed” or tied down by a serious relationship. The cold weather and prolonged indoor activity causes singles to become lonely and desperate to be cuffed.

Brittany: Why is everyone trying to holla this week like outta no where?

Tiara: You know cuffing season is in full effect right?

Brittany: Oh yeah you right. I know I wont be sleeping alone this weekend.

So fall is soon approaching and all over Facebook and Instagram Land are the cuffing season memes. The jokes about cuffing season vs those sliding  in inboxes and DM’s for guys and ladies who are looking for that right one to have and hold from Sept – April (that’s cutting it close, if April is exceptionally warm then you’re cut off in March). It’s not a relationship, it’s an upfront arrangement that you and this person will do almost everything in the scope of a relationship without really having one. You’ll agree prior to on, when you see each other, how often (just enough not catch feelings but still want the D or box when you see each other) and most importantly be in a faux monogamous so as to only be sleeping with each other but keeping prospects open for Spring and Summer. screen-shot-2014-10-14-at-11-37-43-pm
SIGN ON THE DOTTED LINE X_____________________________
Netflix and Chill is the staple as dates apparently aren’t really apart of the whole cuffing deal, this can apparently vary depending on the persons involved since the whole premise for cuffing season isn’t really to find a mate but keep each other warm while the winter months fast approach; it doesn’t hurt I guess to get some trim in the process as well. Sooo.. it’s safe to assume then that if any guy or lady approaches with interest it’s only because cuffing season draft has begun and people are looking for 1st line draft picks. With all that said, being that winter lasts about 4 -5 months  and coincides with the festivities of  Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years’s when most people spend time with the ones they love and hold dear. Do you fake caring for the person you’re in a cuffing season contract with? In retrospect no matter what your contract may stipulate you ideally end up spending “quality time” with that person, at some point start to feel something for them. Even though catching feelings aren’t allowed, how do you prevent it? I know cuffing season is a joke that comes up as discussion among guys and ladies with their friends. That a person will look at another that they are attracted to and say, we cuffing or what? And expect a honest answer, mostly a unanimous Yes! Shit Drake even has a song about Cuffing Season:
I met this new girl late June or early July
I called her a bunch of times but she barely replied
Now it’s December, I’m driving, and she’s like “Where’s my hi?”
It’s weird that I never called you cause I rarely get shy
See that was a segue, I believe the matter
Is what happens after the season where the leaves just scatter
Where the Timb’ laces get tighter and parka hoods flip up
Drug dealers standing in their park or hood slip up
Where girls become exes from Summer’s caught ho’in
The winter cars come out, the summer cars go in
And some places is breezy, and some it start snow-ing
And if you planning family vacations you better know when
But some mothers scared to send they daughters out the city
Instead she get a sweater that she bought her out of pity
Cause mom stays up late, she seen them videos
Where Cancun college students pouring water on their t******!
So what do you do? Champagne Papi said it, it’s got to be true! If a guy or lady approaches you and shows what seems to be genuine interest. You both have great time together and the convo is going great and suddenly they bust out with a whole so listen “You know what this is?” ” I’m not looking for a relationship, but we can do x, y and z from Sept- to(date to be determined). Do you say yes and agree just because being lonely in the winter is far worse and depressing than laying up with someone who you’re obviously attracted to and have crazy  chemistry with that when you see each other its on and poppin? Does cuffing season have an age limit? When do you become too old to engage in the activity of just finding someone to just cuddle, spoon and have sex with (hopefully good sex, but I guess that’s what “pre-season feelers is used for) and they have that good heat in their apartment (the super is Dominican, open the windows 10 degree weather of the building heat) and have the good name brand snacks or have GRUB HUB/Eat 24 app, for after the workout fuel renewal? Only to drop that person, the connection and or feelings right before summer starts because no ones to be in a relationship in the summer.
Beware of Cuffing Season where only the strong survive and the tank tops and sundresses are laying in wait for that touch of  60 degree weather to appear.. people magically disappear- FREE AGENTS!!!

Used to

journal.jpgI used to write all the time, I kept journals and wrote about whatever I was feeling or just what I was never able to say out loud, at some point between becoming a parent and life lost my passion for it and just stopped writing, no that’s wrong I didn’t lose it; it was buried waiting.  Adversity was the pressure that turned my thoughts into a diamond, so far this outlet is my platinum setting. It allows me to be who am I, in my own mind and express them through words. I get to see what I’m really made of through my writing and recollection of past events, inspiring my posts. I’ve fallen down and gotten back up, many times strong, wiser and more determined. There have been times though, I’ve been knocked down, it took me time to get up, lick my wounds and re-gain my balance. I will admit, it was and sometimes is a fight but I’m a fighter, too stubborn and head strong to give in or up. Even though many times I want to fall apart and shatter, I wont be broken. I can sit and wallow in the misery of past traumas and hurts, I refuse to be bitter. I lived my life by a book that was solely black and white no gray area. I never looked at my future and saw happiness, just responsibilities to live that life.  Writing is my passion, its reminded me of who I used to be, who I am now and how the culmination of the little girl, young woman and adult I am now. I’m a pretty cool chic whose got a few cracks but loves to laugh and smile. I have to admit, I love seeing words and thoughts on paper, or on screen…  I’m enjoying the journey thus far, I’m a  little rusty, so bear with me. So it begins…



Priorities: Kids, work, bills, clean house, cook, sleep (maybe) RINSE and then repeat.. 

Responsibilities and minimal fun, leaves mom crabby and cranky.


My little get away to DC for my favorite cousin’s b’day party was just what I needed. My 5 hour bus ride, I managed to catch a nap and rest, it wasn’t great, when youre tall in a cramped space but I made due. Arriving to DC at 12am, it sure didnt look the same when i was there before at 4/5pm. Hustle and bustle of a Friday evening, Dupont Circle reminded me of the Village in NY, which might be why I fell in love with that little area on my last trip. I grabbed my bags from the storage part of the bus and got myself together, I was still tired fron my nap. Fortunately I was charging my phone during the ride, so I immediately looked to grab an Uber. One thing being from NY has taught me you dont stand still in odd or different places, makes you a target. So I got my Uber who came really quick, made my way. One thing I learned to love about DC during my trip, is how cheap their Uber rides are. I never paid more than 6 bucks to go anyplace. In NY that’s not happening!!  I had mapped out before hand how far or close Dupont Circle was from my hotel, thank you Lawd it was was like 15-20 minutes. So during my Uber pool ride, we picked up two other people, it quickly remdinded me of the last time I was in DC, the crowds and clubs and folks looking for late night grub, Memories lol. By the time I was finally dropped to my hotel I was the last one in the car. When we pulled up, I was greeted by a man who opened my door for me and asked if I needed assistance with my bag. I was taken back a little and just smiled, my no thank you at close to 1am was pleasant, it even surprised me.I was definitely feeling good. The hotel was gorgeous, I’m mad I didn’t take pics of it, I could see the Capitol building from there I was staying which was very cool. Approaching the check in desk, I’m feeling more and more tired by now I just want to crash, I’m forgetting that I left work, went home, made sure everything was okay, fed our cats and kids turtle and then made a bee-line to the city to catch my bus. Super Mom moves! So.. Yeah I was exhausted. When I got in there was a slight glitch, being that I came so early in the am my room didn’t roll over into the new day for check in their system. The manager was relly cool, did whatever hotel computer magic and got me into my room,in less than 20 minutes of my arrival: that’s customer service. Needless to say I will be heading back to the Hyatt Regency hotel on Capitol Hill again, on my next trip 😊 

One in the morning, I’m heading to my room all I could think about was, I’m all alone. Walking down the corridor looking for my room number, I’m a bubble of emotions and tired all at the same time. Popping my room key against the lock and opening  the door, I felt a little uneasy at first. I walked in my room, turned on all the lights, surveyed and sat on my bed, for the weekend, took a look around my quaint little room with 2 beds, was nice and quiet and all MINE. There were no kids asking what they can do, what to eat, no random questions. I didn’t have to think about my plans for the next day. What I did know was I was starving. My 5 hour bus ride, I was very hungry and didn’t know what to eat. Normally if I’ve stayed at a hotel,I bought food from outside. This WS how we were brought up, we NEVER ordered room service it was too expensive, Caribbean folks. So my first inital thought, room service was a budget no-no. That night, I said fuck-it and ordered myself something quick. A grilled chicken ceasar salad and a slice of pecan pie. I looked at the room service menu for breakfast later on the night stand and I thought to myself, why not? I read it, and checked off and checked off and kept checking lol. I had made up my mind, yesss… I’m gonna stay in my bed and chill lax. Even though I was there for cousin bday, it turned out to be a nice little momcation. The birthday party was off the hook, I had a ball.

I can say, I spoiled me, and rested and didn’t worry about schedules or responsibilities. My foodie life was filled on my little get away.

All moms need a little time away, let life in. So this will definitely be the first of many to come.


Coming Home Again

Coming Home Again

Image result for church ave brooklyn in the 90's
My commutes home from different jobs always gave me the chance to look around, get to know and see how different neighborhoods, how they look, the people and their day to day. I enjoyed looking out the window of the LIRR or the buses feeling a little like a fly on the wall on my way to work and going home. Crazy enough my journeys to work, always remind me of how long I’ve been living in my own neighborhood, it’s crazy to think it’s going on ten years now. It also reminds me of how long I’ve been out of Brooklyn, how little things make me miss it. Like wanting a plate of oxtail with rice and peas, or a chicken roti, being able to get them at odd hours of the night. Hearing Carribbean folks speak, reggae or soca music blasting from morning till night. September going to BK IS A MUST!- LABOR DAY PARADE! Yea, those things make me miss Brooklyn.  In the past, running around taking care of kids, work and juggling life, my trips back to Brooklyn were far and few in-between. In recent years I’ve done a far better job of making that trek to my old borough. What I’ve come to love about my trips to Bk, being able to see family and friends who a lot of time I haven’t seen in months, because of life or how far out I live. I managed a quick trip a few weeks ago, walking around the old neighborhood I got very nostalgic. Looking around I see all these new stores, where the old stores from my childhood used to be. I laugh a little when certain memories pop into my head, like as a kid how I used to love going to the Carvel ice-cream shop on the corner of Church Avenue and Nostrand Avenue; which now is a convenience store. Or the Chinese food restaurant where my mom used to get Friday night dinner from, would only buy from them cause she loved their chicken wings. One thing that is still there, is the donuts shop on Nostrand Avenue. Its one of the few shops like that still around. I remember I used to pop in there and buy a chocolate covered donut for fifty cents, God knows what it costs now. I will say, I was glad still to see it still there after all these years. Everything else is different now, even the look of my old building where I grew up. I walked inside, the front doors are still the same old wood and steal. When I was little I used to think the building was one of those old hotels they converted into an apartment building. The huge ceilings and decor always amazed me, even when I was young. Walking up the steps to the intercom to look for my family’s bell, I automatically without fail look for my old bell, E9. No matter when I come to visit that is the first thing I look for, its become a habit. After getting buzzed in, walking down the HUGE corridor, a lot has changed, small things are still the same. They’ve gotten new mailboxes, gone is the steel box that used to take up half a hallway. Its been replaced with a wood looking taller mailbox that just looks out of place, I guess because of my memories of the old one, the 1st time I was given a mailbox key to it, lol better getting those letter from school and hiding them. The color of the walls and ceilings haven’t changed, in accordance with the picture in my mind. The stained glass windows still remain and I’m grateful for that, I’ve always thought they were beautiful and it would break my heart when idiots would break them out. Even the corridor still smells the same, a mix of Fabuloso and bleach. That instantly take my mind to the porter Manny, who could always be found mopping the hallways of the building or taking out the garbage. If you were looking for Manny the best place to find him in the basement blasting merengue or bachata music doing some odds and end job. He always looked out for folks in the building, I looked for him that day I forgot to ask my cousin if he was still there.

Image result for church ave brooklyn Image result for church ave brooklyn


The people have changed, a lot of people have either moved out or passed away. There are a few die hard who either don’t care to move or cant afford it with Brooklyn becoming so popular and gentrification pricing many out, the effects noticed just about everywhere, its understandable why they refuse to leave; its home. Walking into the elevator, its an instantaneous reminiscing session recalling the 1st time we moved into the building. I remember the night we moved into the building on the sneak of the night with all our belongings in a shopping cart. Moving literally from one end of the block to the next, leaving behind shattered memories filled with arguments, yelling and abuse. Me, my mom, my sister, our cousin and a friend of hers grabbing only what we needed and leaving behind everything else. The elevator symbolized a fresh start, our exodus from the madness that was, who were were down the block minus one. Opening the elevator door to the fifth floor, seeing the apartments, its always a flood of different feelings and emotions. I remember all my 1st days of school, for JHS, HS and college. Coming home from high school graduation, clearly happy, excited and frightened, that I was at the end of a chapter of my young life. Most importantly I was seeing my mom who had been discharged after a months long stint of being in the hospital, feeling proud that I was able to show her my cap and gown.

Looking at E9, its always a mix of emotions, sometimes I want to break down and cry, other times laughter will hit me, there are so many memories behind that door. I was a child, who played in the hallways with my sister and cousin, Caribbean parents aren’t about letting kids play alone outside, so the hallway was our play ground. From a young child who grew into a teenager, who learned to take the 5 train from BK to Harlem to get to HS in that apartment. Two hours and getting lost once or twice I learned how to stand and do for myself.  I got my first job, and showed my mom my 1st real check. Its where this shy kid, got my first best friend who’d come and hang out with my for hours, because I couldn’t go out or hang out as a kid. I had my first boyfriend come visit me and meet my mom in that apartment, I recall that day I was so damn nervous. He was the first person to understand my situation even as teenagers and be understanding; I had my 1st kiss in that apartment. My life and who I became as a person is carved into those walls of that apartment. I watched tears stream down my mom’s face from sickness and frustration, I learned to become an adult at a young age in that apartment, having responsibilities most kids didn’t have. I learned what emptiness felt like and looked like when she wasn’t home and we had to leave and live with relatives. I learned what returns home felt like and having a center, without even understanding what it meant. I’ve cried my own tears, endured angst and at times grew up alone in that apartment. As time passed I understood what duties of a daughter meant, watching my mother leave for the last time and never coming back. Putting her in a nursing home, having to assist in the making of the choice, knowing she’d set foot or be wheeled back home to us. I became the woman of a household in that apartment turning from a teenager  into a young adult who got married, had my first child and brought him home and raised him there; till we moved.

Image result for 275 Linden Blvd, Brooklyn NYImage result for 275 Linden Blvd, Brooklyn NY

The walls of that apartment  hold memories that no matter how much paint is applied, no matter how they change it, the appearance is still ingrained in my mind, like it was the first time we sent foot into it. Twenty-five years there, if dropped in the apartment blind folded I could get around. It’s not my home anymore and even though I’ve grown to love where I call home now, E9 is still home in my mind even after all the years that have passed. It is hard to leave what you’ve always known, but it’s needed to grow. Leaving Bklyn was a part of my growth, I appreciate that point of my life much more. A small piece of E9 is still home for me, and a piece of me still remains there as well, hell I still remember my old phone number, lol. I’m thankful I can go back and for the memories, I’m thankful that I can still go home.



Back in the days when I was young.

Im not a kid anymore but some days I sit and wish I was a kid again. If you’re from Bk, Manhattan, BX or Queens, you know whst this is. The usual breakfast, a baconeggonaroll, yes all one word, lol. This one pictured, is my own make up, but on a bagel. A hood staple, breakfast of champions that back in the day cost $1.50-$2.00. I remember as a kid, my mom used to send me to Blimpies to order these sandwiches. I felt so damn grown up, walking up to that counter and ordering three, one for each of us. Those days we didn’t care or knew about cleaned grills, new cooking grease, organic anything, or if dude wore gloves making sandwiches. We definitely didnt look for grades from the health department in the windows. 

The spots that made these breakfast sandwiches, werent elegant, hip or trendy spots you could look up on Yelp. They were corner stores, bodegas Spanish or Arab owned. They knew who you were, because you were in there almost everyday. You didn’t even have to say what you wanted, they already knew your order and  was yelling it to the cook who spoke little to no English. 

We loved these spots and the food they made. From junior high school to college, these bodega spots feed me breakfast and lunch growing up. Watching the cook, grab that thick sliced roll, glop butter on it, then cook 2 eggs scrambled/fried, whip them to a fine layed yellow, almost perfect square, refry that bacon to a crisp that could brake and best set crown or a tooth. Sprinkle salt and pepper like they were instructing an orchestra. The cook would look up “You want ketchup?” Grab the foil or wax paper and slide it into the neatest mess ever, it was beautiful! If you had extra $$ grab a nice cold oj, if you were cool with dude at the cash register, he’d let you grab one just cause for free.


Three years and a life lost, over a backpack

Because February shouldn’t be the start or end of our awareness....




The story of Kalief Browder, and others like his, is one that’s being brought to light daily. Cases of men who are in the prime of their lives are thrown into the correctional facilities for crimes they’ve never committed. After years behind bars in a cell, they are finally exonerated of all charges, only after evidence purposely overlooked is presented, they are finally set free. Their stories pushed aside, so we forget them and the injustices.

I first heard about Kalief Browder’s story in 2015. I watched him being interviewed, after hearing his name and stories popping up on the news, and all over social media. Here I was finally sitting down and seeing the person the stories were about. I finally understood why people were up in arms. I can say that I don’t watch television because it can be so depressing. This time, I didn’t click the remote to turn it off, I sat on the edge of my couch and listened. Watching him speak, you can tell his ordeal took not just a toll on him, but a part of him was missing it was gone. You heard him speak of the abuse and his time in prison, Rikers Island, one of the worst prisons documented. I watched his eyes, they looked so lost, hurt, broken and in pain. He spoke of his story because he wanted justice not just for himself but others. I sat and shook my head, I sat and wondered how could our judicial system failed so horribly? How could this young boy spend (he was 16 at the time) 3 years in prison, 1000 days, 800 in solitary confinement, never charged for a crime, worse for a crime he didn’t commit? How could he be remanded to sit in a jail cell away from his family, home, never given the due process we all hear about so often.

Listening to the details of his arrest, the police reports, the lack of follow up or due diligence by the arresting officers. A bail of $3,000, a bond of $900 that his family couldnt afford to pay. It all started a domino effect that lead to not just his mental break down and anguish but ultimately the suicide of this young man. I think the death of his mom who had to endure knowing her son was wrongfully accused and imprisoned, she couldnt do anything to help him. After his vindication and release, to lose him to the demons who followed him out of Rikers Island causing him to take his own life.

Stories like these come up all too often, people spending months, years sometimes even decades behind a cell for a crime they didn’t commit. Losing life, time and family. Walking out of a building surrounded by barbed wired fences and gun glad CO’s. They re-enter a world that has since forgotten them, time has passed and its years from the day that they first walked into prison. Some are given settlements for their wrongful convictions as if to say well yeah we fucked up but take this money as a solice. Hearing about falsified evidence, witnesses that never saw a thing, or worse being coherrsed to admit to a crime you know deep down you didn’t do, just to not be sent to jail; leavimg you with a criminal record. Imagine your freedom, the ability to do the simplest task, needing permission from a person to move from one place to the next, told when to eat, sleep and piss. Add that to the physical and mental abuse endured by violent inmates, sometimes crooked correction officers. A teenager dropped off and left in a world of violence on a little island. In his case, while maintaining his innocence and refusing a plea deal that would give him 15 years in prison if convicted. He was kept in jail, his case never brought before a judge but instead got postponed and had 31 hearings.

I’ve so far watched Part 1 of his story tonight, I’ll be glued to my television for the other 5 parts.To hear not just his story but how a mother lost her son twice to a system that claims justice is blind, we are all learning apparently sees color first before anything.

Independent Music!

For anyone out there who wants their music heard, here is a cool opportunity. Everyone starts somewhere, humble beginnings are the most satisfying.


I will only be playing New Music from Unsigned Artist on my podcast on Gonzo After Dark Radio from now on unsigned if you want your song debuted to the public in our HOT OR NAH section please submit in MP3 format your song detailing the Artist Name & Song Title all submissions should be emailed to info@goldenchildent.com HOT OR NAH in the subject line once I receive your file you will get a email confirmation that it has been received you will then have to call up or have your supports in call and request the song.



S2 E13: THE #EARGASM SHOW: ” MAKE UP YOUR MIND” interview with Robin Parrish OF RLC


The  #Eargasm  show hosted by  Buggsy & Tinida  will interview Robin Parish entrepreneur, make up artist and creator of RLC make up line will get in depth with all aspects of the cosmetic industry & the latest with Robin Lyn Cosmetics

in addition, Tinida  will deliver the daily  Horoscopescelebrity birthday’s  as well as some  Black History  facts

also Buggsy  will deliver the Word on the street entertainment report as well as debut some new music in  HOT or NAH  and allow the callers to rate if the new song is  HOT or NAH all this and much much more.

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