My Ode to Toni Childs ...

Dear Jill Marie Jones,

I don't know how to begin this. Words really can't express how I feel about you. Yes, I know you're crazy, but that doesn't matter. Crazy people need love, too.

Anyway, I found myself up at 2 a.m. last night, watching my favorite episode of your old show, Girlfriends. You know, the episode where you turn 32, and Joan thinks you're 31. The one where you go to a Botox party to try to make yourself look younger, and end up with an eyebrow stuck high on your forehead. The one where you meet your now estranged husband, Todd.

Yeah, that one.

It seemed as though Mara Brock Akil, the show's creator, really wanted Girlfriends to center around Joan's life, but you and Maya became the life of the six-season, and running, party.

Golden Brooks' character showed the strength and struggles of a young sassy black mother trying to make it within a marriage that started young.

But you embody the ignorance and reality of most of the people who exist today. You are the epitome of Stacey Dash's character in Kanye West's All Falls Down video - so pompous and full of yourself, yet so fragile and lost.

Most of us relate to you in some way, be it the material things or your standoffish personality.

We were able to laugh at you because of how outlandish you were speaking in the third person ("I'm Toni Childs, and Toni Childs specializes in results!"), the mistakes you made (putting yourself before those you loved), and making more (cheating on your boyfriends, chasing men for their money, trying to sleep with your best friend's man as a sense of revenge).

But so much of you (well hopefully not) we see in ourselves. You've shown most of us young black people what we need not be, what we should run from without ceasing until our dying hour.

This is no knock on you. Hell, I wish your fine ass was still on the show so I could see my favorite eye candy evolve and watch Toni continue to fumble through life aimlessly, living that aspect of my life vicariously through you. I'm going to miss you, your bountiful lips, your sterling eyes and yes, your whip appeal.

Now, I and a whole lot of other black people have to find another way or character to get our "crazy" out of us. Shame on CW. Stay fine and I can't wait to see you in whatever your next project is, so long as you're not cheerleading on some Dallas football sideline again.

If you ever stop in Kizza City, call me (although you can't because you don't have my number, and you wouldn't anyway) and I'll show you the finer points. Best of luck with all that you do.

Missing you already, your No. 1 fan,
Victor Damone, Jr.