“Hangin’ On A String (Contemplating)” is a well-known song by the British soul band Loose Ends, released in 1985.
Everyone here was 40 years younger…
Mary J. Blige will be touring forever all because she married a simp ass leech.
Mary J. Blige is a hopeless romantic and when she loves, she loves hard. So was the case when she married Kendu Isaacs. Mary said that she fell in love with him because he held her accountable for her shit and put his foot down. Mary gladly submitted to a man who wasn’t rich and that’s fine but it would cost her in the end. She often states that when it came to money she didn’t care and he could’ve had it all if he wanted because she loved him that much. Sis thought they would be forever so she didn’t even ask for a prenup. She trusted this man with her life so much so she made him her manager.
Starshell, Kendu and Mary
So when she found out he was cheating on her with her protege Starshell Mary sunk into this deep depression to the point she didn’t want to be alive. Even still she wanted to work things out with hm and Kendu said “Nope, I would rather be with the chick that you taught everything. So bye.” Yep, this nicca left my girl for the gold digger he was playing house with,
.
Mary was severely depressed but she got up one day, dried her tears because she said " i’M NOT GON CRY, IT’S NOT THE TIME CUZ YOU’RE NOT WORTH MY TEARS." And my girl went to her lawyer and filed for divorce stating irreconcilable differences" While Mary was knee deep in her depression Kendu was whining and dining Starshell with Mary’s money. I mean this Nicca was tricking big time, paying her bills, buying her expensive gifts and vacations. Mary said she got her AMEX black card bill and it was 1.2 million dollars. Imagine getting a bill that your scum bag ass EX rain up on his bitch. The way I would’ve been in jail because WHO?
Mary ended up cutting him off financially and wished she had done it sooner. Her and her lawyers gathered all the evidence they needed to prove that he was grossly negligent and left their marital home to be with his new woman. Meanwhile them tables turned and them bridges burned because Lil Miss Starshell dumped Kendu. I guess when the bag stopped so did her love for him. Sis went and got her another man, got married and left Kendu holding an empty bag. And let’s also be clear, Starshell aint had no luck either because I never heard nobody say “Play that new song by Starshell.” Cuz girl who the hell are you even? That Karma was instant baby.
Kendu and Mary met up with their lawyers so that they could come to an agreement and Mary almost fainted when she saw what Kendu was requesting from the divorce.
That nicca said "I want everything she has including her heart and lungs. (Just Kidding) but I am sure if it was available he would’ve asked for it. But he did ask for:
$1,000 for clothing
$3,200 for a personal trainer
$5,000 per month for child support
$5,000 per month for his parents
$7,000 in rent
$8,000 for a private chef
$21,677 for charities
$71,000 for mortgages on several properties
Additional costs for legal fees
Total: $129,319 per month for life.
Mary couldn’t believe what this man was asking for. Nicca, you aint wrote or sang not one song and you want me to do this forever. Mary hung her head in disgust as she tried to hide her tears as he sat on the other side stoned faced and firm.
The judge had to take all things into consideration. Even thou he was the one who left her for another woman , the judge had to follow the law. So she awarded him $30,000 a month is spousal support and a one time retroactive payment of $235,000. Mary had to pay him dating back from 2016 and finally ending the payments in 2018. So she gave him roughly $955,000.
People may think that is not a lot to Mary, but keep in mind, she still had to pay her own legal fees, bills and other expenses that he already racked up and pay her own bills. She also takes care of her parents. Kendu thought he was going to be living high off the hog forever but Nope. Now that he has ran thru his money, he has tried to come back and ask for more but the judge threw his request out. I know Mary is glad that part of her life is over but she is still trying to bounce back after that. She is always touring because that is how she is surviving financially. I feel like she put her heart, soul and trust in that man because she didn’t have her father growing up. He came in an was her protector and she trusted this man with everything and look what he did.
Marrying simply for love will leave you heartbroken and touring forever. Date for love but also for the benefits of the person having just as much as you so that there is no issues in the end.
I told my son to “man up” and stop making excuses. I didn’t realize I was shouting at a drowning man until I found his bed empty and the silence in his room became permanent.
My son, Leo, was twenty-three. To the outside world, and frankly, to me at the time, he looked like a failure.
I’m a simple guy. I grew up in a time when sweat equity meant something. I bought my first house at twenty-four working at a local manufacturing plant. I drove a beat-up truck, fixed it myself, and never complained. That was the American way. You work hard, you get the white picket fence. Simple math.
So, when I looked at Leo, I didn’t see a struggle. I saw laziness.
He had a college degree that was gathering dust. He spent his days glued to his phone, delivering food for one of those gig-economy apps, and sleeping until noon. He lived in my basement, wore the same oversized hoodie every day, and had a look in his eyes that I interpreted as boredom.
I was constantly on his case. “The world doesn’t owe you a living, Leo,” I’d say, slamming my coffee mug down. “Get a real job. Build some character.”
The Tuesday that changed my life started like any other. I came home from the shop, grease on my hands, feeling the good ache of a hard day’s work.
Leo was in the kitchen, staring at a bowl of cereal. It was 6:00 PM.
“You just waking up?” I asked, the irritation rising in my chest like bile.
“No, Dad,” he said softly. “Just got back. Did a few deliveries.”
“Deliveries,” I scoffed. “That’s not a career, Leo. That’s a hobby. When I was your age, I had a mortgage and a baby on the way. You can’t even pay for your own gas.”
He put the spoon down. He looked pale, thinner than I remembered.
“The market is tough right now, Dad. Nobody is hiring entry-level without three years of experience. And the rent… a studio is two thousand a month. I can’t make the math work.”
“The math works if you work,” I snapped. “Stop blaming the economy. Stop blaming ‘the system.’ It’s about grit. You think it was easy for me in the 90s? We didn’t have safe spaces. We just got it done.”
Leo looked up at me. His eyes were heavy. Not sleepy—heavy. Like they were holding up the ceiling.
“I’m trying, Dad. I really am. But I’m just… so tired.”
I rolled my eyes. I actually rolled my eyes.
“Tired? From what? Sitting in a car? Playing on your phone? I’ve been on my feet for ten hours. I am tired. You’re just unmotivated. You have everything handed to you—electricity, food, a roof—and you act like you’re carrying the weight of the world.”
The kitchen went quiet. The refrigerator hummed. The news played softly in the background, talking about inflation rates, but I wasn’t listening. I was waiting for him to argue, to fight back, to show some spark.
Instead, he just nodded.
“You’re right,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I’m not who you were at my age. I’m sorry the math doesn’t work for me.”
He stood up, walked over to me, and did something he hadn’t done since he was ten. He hugged me. It wasn’t a strong hug; it was a lean, a collapse of weight against my shoulder.
“I won’t be a burden anymore, Dad. I promise. Get some sleep.”
I stood there, feeling vindicated. Finally, I thought. Finally, I got through to him. Tough love. That’s what this generation needs.
I went to bed feeling like a good father.
The next morning, the house was silent. Too silent.
I woke up at 6:30 AM, ready to wake him up early. We were going to look for “real” jobs today. I was going to drive him to the industrial park myself.
“Leo! Up and at 'em!” I shouted, banging on the basement door.
No answer.
I pushed the door open.
The room was spotless. The piles of laundry were gone. The blinds were open. The bed was made—military tight.
And on the pillow, there was his phone and a folded piece of notebook paper.
A cold shiver, sharper than any winter wind, shot down my spine.
“Leo?”
I checked the bathroom. Empty. The backyard. Empty. The garage.
My old pickup truck was gone.
I ran back to the room and grabbed the note. My hands were shaking so hard I almost ripped the paper.
Dad,
I know you think I’m lazy. I know you think I’m weak. I wanted to be the man you are. I really did.
But the mountain you climbed doesn’t have a path anymore. I’ve applied to 400 jobs this year. I didn’t tell you because I was ashamed. I drove for that delivery app for 14 hours a day just to pay the interest on my student loans, not even touching the principal.
You told me to save. I tried. But when rent is double what you paid, and wages are half of what they should be, saving feels like trying to fill a bucket with a hole in the bottom.
I stopped taking my medication three weeks ago because my insurance cut out and I didn’t want to ask you for money again. That’s why I was “tired.” My brain has been screaming at me, and I didn’t have the volume knob to turn it down.
You were right. The world is for the strong. And I don’t have any fight left.
I’m taking the truck to the old bridge. I’m sorry. You won’t have to pay my bills anymore.
Love, Leo.
The scream that tore out of my throat didn’t sound human. It sounded like an animal caught in a trap.
I dialed 911. I drove to the bridge. I drove so fast the world blurred into gray streaks.
I saw the flashing lights before I saw the river.
I saw the tow truck. I saw my pickup, the one I boasted about fixing, being hauled up from the water, dripping mud and weeds.
I collapsed on the asphalt. The officer who helped me up was a guy about my age. He didn’t say, “It’s going to be okay.” He just held me while I shattered.
It’s been six months.
People tell me, “It wasn’t your fault, Jack. Depression is a silent killer.”
And they are right. It is a disease.
But I can’t stop looking at the math.
I looked at his phone records later. He wasn’t lying. He had applied to hundreds of jobs. He was rejected by automated emails. He was working while I slept. He was fighting a war I refused to see because I was too busy looking at the past through rose-colored glasses.
I measured his success with a ruler from 1990, and I beat him with it when he didn’t measure up.
We tell our kids, “When I was your age, I had a house and a car.” We forget to mention that a house cost two years’ salary then, not twenty. We forget that we had pensions, not gig contracts. We forget that we had hope.
Leo didn’t need a lecture on grit. He needed a dad who understood that “I’m tired” didn’t mean “I need sleep.” It meant “I’m running out of reasons to stay.”
I visit his grave every Sunday. I tell him about the truck. I tell him I’m sorry.
But he can’t hear me.
The world is full of Leos right now. Young men and women who are working harder than we ever did, for half the reward, carrying the weight of a broken economy and a digital isolation we can’t comprehend.
If your child tells you they are tired… if they seem stuck… if they are struggling to launch in a world that has clipped their wings…
Please. Put down your judgment. Throw away your “back in my day” stories.
Don’t tell them to man up. Tell them you are there. Tell them their worth isn’t in their paycheck or their property.
I would give everything I own—my house, my pension, my pride—just to see my son sleeping “lazily” on that couch one more time.
A “perfect” dead son is a trophy of nothing but regret.
Listen to the silence before it becomes eternal. COPIED
Welcome to the pissed-off parent pushback: After years of therapists and others encouraging adult children to cut ties with families they deem harmful or “toxic,” estranged parents are speaking out.
The “pissed-off parent pushback” refers to a growing movement where estranged parents, often feeling blamed or dismissed, are speaking out against the narrative that adult children cutting them off is always justified, challenging therapists and societal views that encourage “no contact,” highlighting their own pain and differing perspectives on family conflicts, and seeking validation for their side in deeply fractured family situations.
wsj.com
These Moms Are Done Being ‘Doormats’ for Their Estranged Children
Key Aspects of the Pushback:
- Challenging Therapeutic Advice: Parents feel invalidated when therapists readily support estrangement, often without understanding the full context or the parents’ side.
- Differing Narratives: Parents argue that conflicts aren’t always one-sided; they believe their adult children might be overreacting to perceived slights (like financial disagreements or differing views on life choices) or misinterpreting actions, leading to drastic cuts.
- Seeking Validation: Parents want their pain recognized, feeling silenced and demonized in a culture that often portrays them as inherently “toxic,” even when they see themselves as loving but flawed figures.
- Focus on “Unreasonable” Estrangement: This pushback highlights cases where parents believe the estrangement is disproportionate to the actual issue, often stemming from normal family friction or differing values, as seen in instances like wedding disagreements or financial support requests.
- Shared Experience: Groups and individuals are forming to share stories, providing solidarity for parents who feel abandoned and misunderstood by their children and the mental health community.
Essentially, it’s a counter-narrative to the “toxic parent” trend, where parents are fighting back against being universally cast as villains and demanding a more nuanced view of family breakdown.
These 2 brothers from Kisumu brought their mother for trial in a court of law, contesting her decision to also bequest their last born brother part of the deceased dad’s estate. This young man had been born long after the other two had grown, when the father became sick. He was frail and old. He had exited just days after the boy was born.
They argued that at the time, their father was too old and frail to sire a child, that the boy was biologically not his(They alleged she had a son of Pharaoh who massaged her walls of Jericho with the Holy stick and orgasmed deep inside her) .. therefore by law, their younger brother didn’t qualify for the inheritance. They demanded the boy to vacate the 10-acre farm which the mother had allotted him. They wanted the estate preserved in their names since they were the true biological sons of the father.
But the mother stood firm. She refused to let them lay claim to what rightfully belonged to their innocent brother. YES, the boy was biologically the father’s, and as much, a brother to them. Despite her relentless fight, the 2 brothers insisted to a point of undignifying her. They called her names, publicly in the courtroom, and demanded for a DNA test on the boy. She seethed with rage, reminding them that it was her who coupled
with their father, and not them, birthing them, as such custodian to the details.
Until she could bear it no more. She mournfully gave in to their demands..But with a condition. That to be seen to be fair to all of them, every one of them, and not just the boy, was to be put through a DNA test, and whosoever returned negative results was to forfeit the property that had been gifted him. She made them swear an affidavit before the presiding judge, which they delightedly did.
Hehehe..Jokamaa.. these mothers of ours you see out there, don’t joke with them. Omera show them some regard. Never push them to a point of flipping. You will get the shock of your life. Guess which one kid returned positive results
. They weren’t the biological sons of the late Mzee. Only the last born brother was…the one the two of them wanted out. Yes, women are the custodians of all the details bro! NEVER DISRESPECT YOUR MOTHER’S ADVICE! SHE KNOWS WHY SHE TELLS YOU WHAT TO AND WHAT NOT TO AND WHY!
A mother is the only person who can never stop loving you no matter what. chesa!
Hii story ni sad, probably made up but its the truth.
2 Likes
Well, some of us are well versed in subterfuge tactics. Most widows genuinely believe court orders actually mean something on ancestral property.
Poor women. This is man-town.
Maasai men are all over selling libido boosters like magic, claiming that once you drink their concoction you automatically become a bedroom bully,you will perform better than a vibrator.
Yet back home, their women are protesting. Rust and cobwebs are dominating their honey pot ,their dry spells can beep like unpaid KPLC token meters.
Meanwhile,the same men selling libido boosters have run away from their matrimonial bed to dingy bars in Narok hiding behind alcohol.
If a woman whose clitoris was mutilated a painful tradition meant to control her sexuality dares protest over a dry spell, you can imagine how bad it really is.
Now, a delegation proposes sending 5 Luhya men from Bungoma to Narok to handle the situation , in a week, Maasai women will reportedly be glowing and happy after importing bedroom heroes
If you’re around Bungoma, young, and energetic, and want to participate in the “rescue mission,” register with your nearest chief. Applications are open, and glory awaits.
street vibes
*Singer Ray J says his partying lifestyle has caught up to him. On Instagram, the singer morbidly told his fans that “2027 is definitely a wrap” for him and revealed the heart issues that have arisen from his alcohol and drug use.
“This is black,” he said, referring to his heart. He has had a long history of abusing the stimulant Adderall, telling his followers that he used to take “10 Addys” alongside drinking “four or five bottles a day.” Ray J disclosed to TMZ that he is now on Jardiance and Entresto, both drugs used to treat possible heart failure. Further treatment from his doctors could follow, including a possible surgery to place a pacemaker. In his statements, the singer also confirmed reports from earlier this month claiming that he was hospitalized for heart pains. Ray J, who dated Kim Kardashian on and off from 2003 to 2006 before their infamous sex tape leaked in 2007, says he is no longer on drugs or alcohol but remains bedridden. “As long as I stay focused and stay on the right path, then everything will be all right, so thank you for all your prayers,” Ray J told his fans.*