I've never used #tbt. But today, after a crap Tuesday, a hurtful revelation on Wednesday, a lengthy much needed shit-talking-belly-laughing-spleen-venting with my May birthday twin and ride or die chick Joan Morgan yesterday, and an annoying experience at Joey Bada$$' album listening party last night, I've created #fuf: fuck you Friday. Shout outs follow.

Fuck you to the fools who don't see me for who I am because they are too insecure, narcissistic, and lack the magnanimity to do so. This is a fatal flaw and you will never truly fully win. Karma is a bitch and she knows kung fu.

Fuck you to the conniving evil manipulative bitch who broke the spirit of my Rock of Gibraltar and drove him to his death. May the sound of the single shiny nickel plated 9mm blast echo in your spirit for all eternity.

Fuck you to the feckless men who take fatherhood lightly and allow it to occupy a back burner. Because guess what, we women can NEVER treat motherhood with anything but the utmost gravitas and our children are always front and center in the heat of our kitchens, even when they're grown and thousands of miles away.

Fuck you to the clueless men who are either missing the emotional sensitivity gene or have somehow managed to suppress it and don't see what's right in front of them. Clean up your messy house, B, because you don't want us to do it.

Fuck you to the opportunistic actress who disappeared months ago after she stiffed me on my fee and was suddenly my best friend last night when I was whisked into Joey Bada$$' party while she stood on the other side of the velvet rope and again disappeared once I got her in.

Fuck you to the useless publicist at Joey's party who, when I called him to make sure Kirk Knight got in (I had already left and only escorted him to the door to make sure he was good), looked dismissively at me and said "I got no juice" until he saw Kirk then rushed over like a little bitch. Money, even if you had juice, I wouldn't drink that shit with a ten foot straw. 

One of the beauties of aging is carefully curating your company. Let the detritus flow downstream and the ashes dissipate in the wind.

My name is Sophia Chang and I was raised by Wu Tang. Word is bond.