Last night, Brokey and I were attempting to one-up each other by pointing out cheesy, hackneyed displays of Afrocentricity. (You know what we mean: that dreadlocked-Jesus-on-the-cross-ass stuff.)
I offered up this. She countered with this. I came back with this. And she came back with …well, see for yourself.
“Wtf is goin on there??!” she asked. A terrific question. I made a joke about tub farting. She suggested it was the Almighty watching some lovemaking and interceding. (Because, you know, we’re 12.)
Best caption wins a cowry shell necklace, a sleeve of Nag Champa, and a lifetime supply of Self-Love™.
Pingback: When Afrocentric Art Goes Wrong. « PostBourgie()
Pingback: When Afrocentric Art Goes Wrong. « PostBourgie()