Hate her but still love her

Please click here if you are not redirected within a few seconds. What does this song mean to you? Can I not like you for awhile? Song Discussions is protected by U. 25,000 debt would probably make anyone upset. Hip Hop Atlanta is currently having some major beef over 25,000 United States Dollars that’s owed to her by her ex-husband, Bryant B Moe Shaw. 00 he owe me or the bill money he owe me. Now run me my before I really embarrass you. You won’t even go to the doctor! So on top of saying that he owes her this money, doesn’t take care of his kids, has an STD, and that she terminated a pregnancy, Tiarra was far from over. She posted 14 other Instagram stories going on about how she felt. After she was done ripping him a new one and tagging Malaysia in her IG stories, she took her IG to clear up that she only tagged Malaysia because she wanted Malaysia to get Bryant to get his life together.

Never in anyway did I inted to speak negatively about Malaysia. I always have and still think is Bomb and beautiful. I apologize to h er and her children. She has nothing to do with that mans tab. I’m just a regular girl with a Netflix account and a lot of thoughts and opinions. VH1 and all related titles and logos are trademarks of Viacom International Inc. At the request of a reader, we are posting it on our website. Marshall, Your editorial on xenophobia touched my heartstrings. As your readership may know, I am currently in the University of Minnesota Medical Center receiving excellent care after my bone marrow transplant on Nov. Every day a nurse walks in who is a little different than me.

She or he might be Somali or Hmong or Japanese-American and have a little bit of an accent – just like those old Croats I used to listen to on the northside of Virginia. Or, my nurse’s assistant may come in to take my blood pressure and tell me how she fled the war in Liberia when she was a young woman and what a wonderful opportunity it is to be here in America. Then the housekeepers come in, they’re in a hurry, they say hi. They are Somali or Ethiopian or Liberian. One was a male who stopped emptying the wastebaskets and talked to us. About how he came from Ethiopia five years ago because of tribal conflicts. He already had a master’s degree in chemistry and is now working two jobs while going to school to become a pharmacist so he can give his three children a college education.

I could go on and tell you that one of my transplant doctors is from Brazil and my primary oncologist is from India. She came to get her degree at the U of M and decided to stay on here to pay back for the great education she received from our state. So, it’s puzzling to me that some of my friends and their children have forgotten that they are the children and grandchildren of immigrants. That they came to America for the same dream, to make life better for themselves and their families. And they were treated as badly as today’s immigrants. I can’t help but relay the story told to me by one of my dad’s best friends. They had milk cows on the northside of Virginia and it was Bruno’s job, as a 12-year-old kid, to deliver the milk in the morning to the mining locations – Lincoln, Higgins and Minorca – which sat above the hill north of Virginia. One early morning on his way to deliver milk, he saw smoke coming from the top of one of the mine dumps, so on his way back after delivery he decided to climb up there and investigate. His Italian father couldn’t read English so they brought it across the street to another Italian immigrant who could read English. The book contained the membership list of the Virginia KKK.

To this day I still remember some of the names that were told to me that were in that book. On a final note, I can’t help but think that if not for the care of all these wonderful Somali and Liberian and Ethiopian and Brazilian and Indian and Hmong and Japanese immigrants that I’ve met here, I might be six feet under. Hate helps no one, love solves everything. One excellent letter,no more needed to be said really. It was a gal probably 30 years old who was a registered nurse and was from a African country. She did excellent work beyound what was required. Confession: I’m not a great believer in astrology. While I stand by my scepticism, this day’s tag serves an important purpose: it is a comfort, a reminder, particularly on the days I’m feeling the furthest from that wanton temptress. In my last two anniversary posts, I mused on my diminished time, inspiration and sporadic posting.

hate her but still love her

hate her but still love her