Y’all, I’m white. And I’m not talking ethnicity. I mean, that’s true too. But down to my core, I’m white. As white as the day is long. I still say things like “fo rizzle” and “crack-a-lackin.” Nothing about me is on point, on fleek, or on anything else. I love Friends, I can’t jump, and I’ve competed in an ultimate frisbee competition. I am white.
So when I say things like, “Yeah, we had tacos for dinner last night. I made tortillas and…blah blah blah,” the response is always the same:
“YOU MAKE TORTILLAS?!?!”
Yes. I’m white. Yes. I make tortillas. Yes. They’re delicious. Continue Reading