Friday, June 30, 2006

Ain't This Some...

As I sit online bored as all outdoors, guess who sends me an IM?

My best male friend SIGMA who my boyfriend hates because me and him have “history”.

For the record he is the only male friend that I have whom I have slept with *in the sexual sense yall* but somehow we still manage to be cool. I mean sure he is hung like a muthaf*cking horse and boy he can eat some yum-yum like it’s a four course meal ok and sure I be staring at his mouth too much, coochie humming because she remembers that working that he puts on her but still….*LOL*

Besides he has three kids *thus no more sliding between these thighs as I am sure I will get pregnant if he breathes on me too hard* and he has crazy ass baby mommas.

I don’t think we ever meant to actually sleep together but oh well sh*t happens. Besides I got with the boyfriend later on down the line so I guess it all evens out. Of course the boyfriend doesn’t like our friendship as he think we would f*ck again. I told him trust he has nothing to worry about. Sure the d*ck and tongue is worthy of singing praises from the rooftops but we decided that a friendship was better than a f*ckship because we’re too much alike. Hence I can out with him, get toasted and don’t have to worry about waking up looking for my panties. Sure I have felt the morning wood poking but nothing has popped off since I went and got “serious” on him.

Do he wants to f*ck? Probably. Sometimes we joke about it. I mean I am a goof ball. OMG like the time his room mate caught up in the middle of getting down. My cool ass WB friend NICK got to see his first real Black Girl boobie. And trust NICK has not let me forget that or the horrified expression I had on my face as he did leave the door wide open and being the person he is, instead of a “My Badd” and walking his ass back out, oh no he came in to get beer and he was not leaving with his beer. Had the nerve to sit down and wanted to chat until we both screamed at him to getthefuccout.


Do I think about it? Honestly, no. Ok well sometimes. I think about the mouth more than anything. Nigga can open a school of “Eating the Muffin” if you ask me. Sometimes he’ll be talking to me and say something, legs part like sesame. Damn my weakness of the tongue.

But hey our friendship works somehow. It’s not like I call him whining about my relationship. That’s what my girls are for and it’s not usually whining it’s usually some rant that I try out on them before I bring it to him. We don’t have that many problems *anymore* that needs griping about so outside of some regular old talking, my boyfriend is rarely mentioned. Although he is all up and through this blog *by default he is my live-in booty after all* I rarely bring him up unless asked. I can’t be on of those people who mention their significant other is every single breathe. Like he/she is the most perfect being on earth and can do no wrong although you know you’re lying like a muthaf*cker. Hell although we’ve moved past the days of public scenes and argument, we ain’t perfect. And I know how folks are quick to hate on your shine and try to bring your relationship down because theirs is in the pits. How are you going to be mad at me because my boyfriend doesn’t cheat on me? Like I’m lying or something. Trust if he was, after the smack down I lay on his ass, his ass will be to the curb. I don’t have the time to tolerate cheating. I already have some insecurities that I need to get rid of, I refuse to let relationship insecurities conquer my ass as well. Hell no dick is that damn good to allow me to 1) want to share or 2) allow you to share it with every chick out in the street. Nor is the money that long. My boyfriend is a full-time graduate student plus working two jobs in order to keep his head above water. Trust money is not an issue.

We talk about real sh*t. None of that girlish rambling sh*t. We just talk about a little of everything. He gives me advice. I gives him advice. Of course his baby mamas hate me with a passion so I limit my contact with him because they are the spiteful, hateful type. The “I won’t let you see your kids because I saw you with that b*tch last night so Ima make you beg to see your children” type and I despise women like that so to prevent myself from slapping their little skinny asses, I distance myself. Hell if they don’t want me touching their kids I won’t. It’s not like I like children like that anyway. But don’t punish the father because you don’t like me. Be a woman about your sh*t and let me in on this one-sided beef you have with him. Damn b*tch I had him already. Been there, done that. It’s a wrap. I mean damn I have a man. I don’t want yours.

Did I mention that high ass sperm count?

And the fact that he’s kinda a hoe hence three kids by three different women?

When I met him he only had one, his cute as a button son, and his first baby mama *not a problem as she hates his f*cking guts* was long gone out the picture. I’ve only seen her in passing as she went to school with us but she knows that we’re just friends. I wish the other two would see that.

So we’re online just catching up as I haven’t talked to him in a few weeks and I’m actually surprised he’s online because he’s rarely online but I was kinda happy because he sounded a little depressed when I spoke to him. His youngest daughter’s mother has been giving him hell for the last couple of weeks. The type of hell that would make me say F*ck It and become a deadbeat mom. For real. I mean it’s the immature sh*t times fifteen. He’s been trying to gain custody of her for the longest but Chicago’s Family Courts are not always kind to the father.

So he has turned to drinking. Not a good thing coming from a family of semi-alcoholics. My mother doesn’t drink at all *she’s tipsy from a wine cooler* and as my father puts it, he’s a “social drinker”. He drinks but not to get f*cked up. I drink more heavily than my parents and slowly I am weaning myself from getting f*cked up all the time. Don’t want to look wore down and haggard like seasoned alcoholics. Hell looking at my aunt sometimes is a scared straight moment. And her drinking has f*cked up my cousins and family enough so I definitely don’t want to go down that road. My cousins are already scarred from the verbal and physical abuse they had to experience under my drunken aunt.

I love her but she’s not right. I found this out as a result of my official induction into adulthood by my family. In my family you’re not grown until they say you’re grown. I’ve been given the privilege of knowing family secrets and I am unofficially the “Peacemaker” in the family. My grandfather passed the torch before he died although I sometimes feel like he did not like my aunts and uncle. My grandmother had four kids by another marriage and technically my youngest aunt is his only child but sometimes I got the vibe that he resented my grandmother’s other kids *my mother included* and just merely tolerated them due to the love for my grandmother.

But you don’t talk ill of the dead and regardless I loved my grandfather.

So we switched from Yahoo to phone and I just let him drunkenly vent to me for the greater part of the hour. He revealed some sh*t that I did not know. He even asked me *drunkenly* that we should get married that way it appears more favorable in the courts. Umm yeah I try to stay out the courts as much as possible especially any court in Chicago.

He also confessed that his feelings were a little more than friendly.

*crickets chirps*

Ok…Had to steer away from that disaster. I mean I’ve been knew his feeling were changing but I guess I got a real confirmation. This didn’t blow me away like the last time a male friend revealed he liked me as more than a friend but now I am forced to reevaluate our friendship.


I’m going to just talk to him when he is sober and lay it on the table.

Is it bad when you don’t have the same feelings? Is it kinda, well, male of me to have a horrified reaction when someone wants to write odes of affection to me? Does that make me kinda emotionless? Well I guess if I can kick a nigga out my bed post-sex and have no bad feeling then I guess I can be a cold-hearted monster.

Ima just leave this one alone. I would actually be hurt if our friendship were to end.

So after he wakes up *yeah he went to sleep mid-sentence* I’m just going to call him back and let him know what’s up. Love you like a brother *well not really as I would never commit incest* but not in the way you want.

See what I mean. Everyone wants your ass when you have somebody but no one is thinking of you when you don’t.

Thursday, June 29, 2006

Folks Sure Do Have Dirty Minds...

Boy T. Cas, you sure know how to bring out a girl's dirty side...

Boy have I?! I got “Live-In Booty”

Yup. The Forest Perserve on 87th…We got caught though. The park, parking lot, backseat of car, movie theater, porch….LOL

Yeah…me and the boyfriend are goofs.

If I ever got some dick that makes me cry…Best believe I’m marrying that nigga

Sometimes. No wet spot and definitely not in the summer. It be too hot…I’m like “Moove…Get off me!”

Hell yeah he is “who is not named” and he definitely is a “He Don’t Count”!

Yeah. I figured if I gave the perfomance of a life, he’ll hurry up and cum so I could go to damn bed. It worked.

A little of both. While this ain’t a damn porn I don’t want complete silence either. A little noise goes a long way.

Yes. I was thinking with the clit and not with brain.

Like, eww much? I didn’t masturbate but FH had a cute ass boyfriend in H.S. Too bad he couldn’t screw.

When I was 18. Met this dude on campus, he was cute, took him home wore his ass out and kicked him the hell out of my dorm when I was done. No hoes in my bed. LOL. Come to think of it, that made him like me more and he became my 1st college stalker.

Hell to the naw! If another female can’t do shit for me but bake a cake and I don’t eat everyone’s cooking, why would I want that heifer in my bed. And two niggas in the bed? A little gay plus that smells like “running a train” to me. Sorry I don’t make sucking d*ck a part time job.

Nope. Porn just doesn’t do it for me. I’m too busy critiquing the perfomance and camera angles.

Yes, I have an active imagination .

Yes JDUBB was poking holes in the condoms to get me knocked.

It wasn’t my first time that’s for sure. That sh*t was painful! I can’t think of anything. I mean I laugh in bed sometimes. Is that bad? No wait, I fell off the damn bed one time. And umm I was trying to give the boyfriend a sexy dance, grabbed the light pole to use as an actual pole *yeah I was in the zone, what a dumb ass*, stumbled and took the damn light down with me. But my pride was more hurt than anything.

I was 16. He was 17. Old by today’s standards.

To be safe, the boyfriend. But damn I would need a ticket machine and a plastic surgeon *to reconstruct the coochie* for all the men I would like to sleep with.

It better be possible! for the boyfriend. The others? Eh if I work hard at it…

Nah. Going to work has a way of making my nipples soft.


With T. Cas? Hmm good question? Would I sleep with you T. Cas? Hell Should I? All that scattered ass you be getting I don't know....LOLOLOLOLOL

I Need To Get Some Business

I have one more week at my old job.

My manager has been walking around pouting because apparently I am leaving *as office rumors go* I was “so cool” and so “funny” and all this other jazz that I had to bust up laughing.

While some of my co-workers are sad that I’m leaving, they do realize that I live down the street and they do have my phone number so it’s not like I am completely disappearing off the face of the earth.

The others? Eh, they’re patiently waiting to do the Mexican Hat Dance. They are so ready to leave. I guess calling one girl a “fake ass Christian” was not such a good idea at the time.

She is a fake ass Christian by the way. And my father wonders why I don’t go to church. I’m like, “If I want to be judged by fake ass people, I’ll just go over to some of our family’s house. At lease they know me.” Of course he doesn’t see my reasoning. But I guess when you drink and go to the strip clubs or steppers’ set Saturday and praising and sanctifying on Sundays, he is included in the “fake ass” category.

At least I’m honest with mine.

He who is without sin cast the first stone.

*throws stone*

Hey the bible said the first. I’m just co-signing and throwing the second.

The girl is question is cool. Don’t get me wrong but she is really nice. Until she gets in on “Bible” rants. Got the nerve to be bumping gospel music on her My Space account and we all know My Space is the devil. Quotes Bible scriptures like rap lyrics. Sh*t I gotta Google and make sure it’s a real damn verse. Or call my grandma. You know she knows the Bible backwards and forward. Hell she’s an editor! Now my mother’s mother is the same only she is more a “countrified” way. And she’s quoting the Bible while cursing you out in the same sentence. Grammy don’t play!

But did I mention she has a child by a guy who has a girlfriend? But chile’ sugar don’t melt in her mouth.

Had the nerve to twist her mouth one day and told me I was living in “sin” with my boyfriend because we’re not married and have “marital acts”.

I had to arch an eyebrow at her ass. So I pointed to her belly and was like, “So….That’s some immaculate conception right there huh? So you’re about to give birth to the Second Coming right?”
Bitch please.

Fake ass Christian.

I hope she doesn’t raise her daughter so strict because after she strayed from the flock and got knocked she locks the coochie up lock stock and barrel. Spend all her time working and going to church and then try to force her daughter to become a Bible Thumper but her daughter turns into a stereotypical “preacher’s daughter” *aka FREAK* and she walks around church like her sh*t don’t stink never mind the fact her daughter had 3 kids by 4 men before she is 20, all drug dealers, but she’s going to point out the choir director’s daughter who although she is having sex at least she don’t have 5 kids, graduated from high school and plan on entering a four year university in the fall.

But sugar doesn’t melt in her mouth.

So I know she’s eager for me to leave so she can continue to push her logics on everyone else. I see through all that Maybelline and I get a kick out of f*cking with her sometimes. Like I bring up her naval piercing and tattoo…Isn’t that in the Bible? Aren’t you destroying the flesh that God gave you? That sh*t gonna keep you out of Heaven girl! You better repent. Girl was your daughter conceived on a Sunday? Ain’t that the Lord’s Day? At least the boyfriend and I whom I’m living with sin in refrain until after Midnight on Sunday. Jeez girl have some respect for the Lawd. Hmmm you got Yolanda Adams on My Space and Young Joc as a ringtone. Hmmm

Yeah I know I’m ignorant but I get a kick out the sh*t. Just like that crazy ass 5% Percenter or whatever it’s called, the damn Jehovah Witnesses *Do DC even have them? I have yet to see one* and fanatic Christians---Don’t Push Religion On Me! I believe in God. I do attend church *when I get in the mood*. I read the Bible. While I haven’t gotten it memorized, I do know where most of the books are located. Hey you try flipping through the Bible looking for the Book of Zechariah in Church and by the time you find it you gotta flip to another book to find another verse so you’re just flipping though the book while everyone else is reading along with the preacher. And then finally someone leans over and let you read from their book, making you feel like the heathen church goer that you are. And doesn’t it seem like the preacher is directing all commentary towards you?


Don’t act like I’m the only one!

So while I don’t have a problem with Christians, it’s the “fake” ones that irk me. That and the “non-saved” ones. The ones who are continuing to wallow in sin yet claim they “saved”. You smoke weed but you won’t drink because you’re “saved”. You will call someone everything but a child of God but he or she is lucky you’re not going to whoop that ass because you’re “saved”. Got re-baptized but you still f*cking with dude and he’s married yet because you’re baptize that “saves” you from the damnation of hell.

Folks would be getting baptized every day if that was the case. Yours truly included. Hell I’ll bath in holy water. I’ll get a Holy Water Filter installed and everything if that was the case.

Is that how it is when you’re Catholic? Go into the confessional, recite your sins, the priest forgives you, and you go back out and do some f*cked up sh*t because you know you can come back on Sunday and just re-confess the same sins?

If it wasn’t for the priest touching on every damn body I always wanted to go to a Catholic church and go to confessional. Some times I bug the hell out of my boyfriend because he’s Catholic *oh you know I’ve already roasted his ass to death, I’m like sh*t you should pretend some priest touched you too so you can have a real nice come-up….’Cuz you know some of them folks are lying like a motherf*cker. So this priest has been touching you since what age…10 months? 13 millions for the plaintiff* but he refuses to let me attend a service with him.

We know Black people are hardly taking a vow of celibacy for the Lawd. Hell they’re not going to be touching on little kids…Best believe they’re sleeping with someone grown in the congregation or someone out in the streets. I mean there are some sick Black men/women of the cloth but at least they hit you up when you’re a real teenager and not a damn pre-teen!

Hell I’ll take a 1 hour mass over a 7 hr service *and longer on 1st Sunday* any day. Although I will miss the Holy Ghost Dance.

I definitely need to cleanse myself from all the sinful thoughts I have daily.

Like, finally, the weather breaks here *of course it’s hot and humid as f*ck now* and this sexy man was running with the dukes and no shirt on. I was straight slobbing. He was a little sweaty but nothing a shower won’t fix.

Then the Heath Inspector stopped by the job and my girl and I damn near broke our necks looking. He was sexy as hell. I was like damn he can come inspect my kitchen any time if you know what I mean. He could have gotten it 3 times in the Bathroom on my lunch break. And when he walked past again, we straight ignored who ever we were talking to. My girl even told the lady to step aside because she was blocking the view! You know I died laughing but not too much because when I laugh too much I close my eyes and I needed to eye molest him for a few more seconds.

He had a big ass too.

Sorry I look at mens’ asses. Is that sick? A guy I knew told me I was sick because I look at guy’s asses. I was told that is not sexy as guys don’t want anyone gushing over their asses. It’s a little, well, homo. I mean I don’t be like, “Damn you got a fat ass! Aye boy come here and let me holla!” I guess that’s the “guy” part of me who will eyeball a nigga’s ass like it is candy. I will just let loose a low “dammnnnnn” or two. I mean his ass can’t be bigger than mine *for some reason I think “gay” when I see a dude whose ass is too big for his own good* but I don’t want a little flat ass either. Sh*t you got to have something for me to wrap my legs around. I need something to rest my feet on. But again not too big. Then I’m watching for a switch. And if you sashaying down the street then I know you play for the other team. And trust, he can have that booty. I have enough nightmares due to my conversation with my gay pal G and trust he has TMI for days.

Ok I’m done with my crazy ramblings. I’m trying to get invited to somebody’s BBQ for the 4th since I’m stuck in DC due to work.

Please spare me with the Black Folks versus the 4th of July. I don’t celebrate the actual day as I can give two sh*t about America. They sure don’t care about us. But I will, however, celebrate for the folks who celebrate by coming to eat up all their damn food. I will celebrate the BBQs as I love to eat. My family BBQ for every damn holiday. Saint Patrick’s Day? BBQ. Flag Day? BBQ. Rosh Hashanah? Well…we Fish Fry.

Monday, June 26, 2006

Weekend Of Recovery

This weekend was a weekend of recovery.

As expected, I went out on Friday. My girl and I hit up the club FUR which turned out to be a really decent club. I was not feeling the hootchie type female “promoters” or whatever the hell those girls are that just walk around looking crazy but whatever.

Basically my girl and I got twisted.

After work on Friday we agreed to go out but I kinda held that with a grain of salt considering the last time we were suppose to hit the streets she ditched me for one of “pieces” so I was surprised to actually get the phone call informing me to be ready.

We were going to go to our favorite club LOVE but considering that Jeezy would be equaling high prices plus our history with the detox room we chose to decline and hit up “Latin Night” since she is Latina and I damn sure was going to fake like I was too. Hell I know a few phrases in Spanish.

We get in and apparently the first floor is “Latin” as they played all types of Spanish music. Of course I didn’t understand 95% of the lyrics but I began to shake what my mama gave me. But the real fun began when we hit up the “Hip Hop” room.

I guess we were looking too good as we were placed on three guys’ tabs before long. I mean I had on a pair of Bermuda shorts and a halter and she was rocking a cute ass white skirt and a cute top. Hair laid and pressed to the side and of course this was before any makeup we had melted off. So of course we partook in the free alcohol and like the “niggas” we are, of course we damn near drunk everything at the bar. I mean shots of Patron, Hennessy, Henns and Cokes, Rums and Coke, Long Islands…You name it, we probably ordered it. Now you know you can’t us on a damn tab or whatever. Hell we were seconds away from offering other folks drinks! I guess they were trying to floss but somebody’s going to mad at the end of the night. And then we stumbled into a co-worker we’re cool with and his friends and he put us on their tab!

So granted loose was not the word. Our asses were officially slizzard. You shoulda seen our drunk ass dodging the bouncers and sh*t because we did not want to end back up in another detox room.

So we shook it up on the dance floor enforcing “One Dance Minimum” a few times. And it was Caribbean Fest Weekend here in DC so it was hella Africans and West Indies in the club. I think I must have gotten hit on by every country in the world. For some reason an African nigga can sniff my Black ass out in the club. It never fails. No matter where the hell I’m at an African is sure to follow. Be hunting my ass in the crowd like a gazelle and sh*t. And they come at me speaking their language, I’m like, “Dude I’m not whatever you think I am! Speak English!” I can’t hear already in the club, I don’t need tongue clucking to go with it. Granted I swear I’m a Jamaican Goddess and a Jamaican accent shivers my timbers, but still. And they are the main one stalking in the club.

I swear I saw their rituals on The Animal Planet. They swarmed my ass like a herd of lions on a zebra. Oh they left my girl alone *she was laughing too hard anyway* But I was smacking them away like they were bees and sh*t.

Nothing against Africans of course but I do not want to be Queen of Zamunda. There ain’t going be no “6 wives” thing going on over here. And I’m number 4. Have me stuck in another country somewhere looking crazy. Not my idea of a good time.

So we had a great time. Get out the club and lo and behold someone has broken into my girl’s car and took her stereo. Who the f*ck steals stereo nowadays? So naturally we were pissed. They left her purse, wallet, and all her credit cards but took her stereo. Which didn’t work anyway. Hell she was like the purse and the wallet cost more than the stereo. She ain’t never lied. She has the new Coach Tote and matching wallet so that’s like $600 right there. Someone could have made a killing on the streets. So she had to call off of work to get her window fixed. Can’t be riding around with the garbage bag on the window. So I’m pissed because they broke into her car and we were parked on a busy strip and of course no one saw anything. I mean it’s a strip where all the “Black” clubs are so the police was out and about. But then again it’s New York Avenue. Hell we’re lucky to come back and have a damn car. But I was mad because guess who was riding with the “open” window? B*tch just cold as hell.

She decided not to file a report as DC police will probably do absolutely nothing but tell her to chalk it up as a loss.

I told her had that been me, oh, I’m waking up the whole block. I know somebody saw something! They’d have to arrest my black ass. And she has dark ass tints so it’s not like someone can see in the windows and see she has a stereo. Besides you can tell she has a “female” car. Not like she’s on 22’s or anything. But she said the stereo didn’t work and next week she was going to get a new stereo installed anyway but of course that’s beside the point.

Now no one is going to want to drive and whoever do you know we’re now going to have to pay for parking. Which sucks. That’s a round of drinks right there and sh*t.


Damn DC.

So I drag my ass in the house about 4 am. Why did I have to be at work at 6:30? You know a b*tch was dead ass tired at work. I was nodding off and damn irritable as I could not sleep off my hangover the way I wanted. And my feet were hurting. I curse the damn heels. I’m going to start wearing flip flops in the clubs damn that. My feet were burning like sh*t. I’m hobbling around looking like an extra from Lord Of The Rings and just praying for the day to be over. Had to refrain from snapping at like three people who wanted to ask me 999,999 questions. Damn I’ve told you about 6 times the directions…F*ck it, let me Map Quest it for your simple ass.

So needless to say at 3 pm, I ran like the wind. Got home and just crashed.

Woke up nice and refreshed, watched a little TV with the boyfriend who went out last night as well, was passed the f*ck out when I stumbled in the house. I was laughing because this fool was butt ass naked with some crackers in the damn bed and had the damn cat snuggled under the blanket as well. I told him I didn’t know what he had planned but ummm yeah I don’t do animals. Or crackers. Bed just crumbly like a muthaf*cker. F*cking worse than the “wet spot”.

DH had finally called me back and what did I predict? Heffa did not tell her husband. Had the nerve to ask me could I do it for her? I’m like damn are you scared of him or something? His West Indies ass is not going to put roots on my ass! He’s going to look at the phone like I’m crazy. Besides it’s your mind and body. How the hell am I going to tell another person that you are tired of being pregnant? I was like even if you have to do it in a punk way and email him you need to do something. Besides I told her I think she’s suspect as hell. Of course I was met with silence when I asked her if it was another man. I was like don’t throw away your marriage because you “think” this guy is “the one”. Use common sense and reasoning over what ever the hell this new guy is spitting in your ear. Because everything that looks good is not always good for you and this sh*t can blow up in your face. F*ck around and leave your husband if you want to and this guy turns out to be a major dog. You’ll regret it.

Of course I was met with deaf ears as ”Girl, that is not even the case. Another guy has nothing to do with this” in a very weak and unconvincing way. But hey it’s out of my hands. If she is doing something, pray she never slips up and gets caught. Men from the West Indies are crazy as sh*t. He’d f*ck around and choke her ass to death. Just don’t implicate me in this bullsh*t. If I see the nigga walking down the streets of DC my ass is breaking. He ain’t in DC on a “social” visit I can tell you that much. In fact, I’m going to make sure she nor any of her peoples have my address. Hell can’t be too safe nowadays.

Sunday I was just a lazy bum. I got up early to watch Daddy Day Care *shut up shut up shut up* But the movie ended up watching me. Chatted online for a few. Cooked dinner and then it began to storm so the lights were flicking and the cable was going in and out.

All in all I had a pretty productive weekend. Did anyone else do anything worth while?

Friday, June 23, 2006

I Should Really Stay Out This One...

Ok so why did my dentist try to kill me today?

I mean technically it was sorta kinda my fault but still a sister was about to choke to death. It’s bad enough he had like 5 instruments in my mouth and you know I’m not used to having that much in my mouth *lol* and then he’s asking me like 10 millions questions like I can really answer him even though you know my goofy ass was gurgling answers.

So he’s filling in a cavities *boo* so my smile can stay on shine and I guess a bit of the fillings got on my tongue. I felt the damn thing and although I tried not to swallow the damn thing reflex made me swallow *don’t be thinking I just be swallowing everything* and I started coughing. Freaked me and him out considering I was giving him hand signals yet he was still drilling away. And you know my mouth was super numb from the Novocain so he could’ve drilled a hole in my damn gums or something. I mean damn when I start waving my hands around that means stop! Then the technician didn’t make it any better, she started using the damn hose on me, causing me to choke more. My life flashed before my eyes. I thought, Aint this a b*tch? Death by choking, And not on a pork chop at that. And I also realized one of my cousins still owe me $20 from two years ago.

In fact, I’m about to call him now.

I know it seems like I have hit the dentist hella times but a sister has not been to the dentist sad to say in years. And if I expect to keep my award winning smile I have to have some work done. Nothing major just a few fillings and a cleaning. I just didn’t want it all at the same time due to work. Can’t be working sounding like I ate some cotton balls or something.

Although after choking I did leave looking Bubba Gump-ish. A guy even asked me why I was pouting. I’m like I’m not pouting that’s the damn Novocain producing the Angelina’s lips. Besides I couldn’t tuck the sh*t in even if I wanted. I make sure he always gives me a little “extra”. *lol* Me being a dope fiend off of Novocain. But hey I’m a wimp when it comes to pain.

It was so hot outside today I wanted to slap someone. I mean damn 95 degrees? I was dying walking down the street. Then I had to do my bi-weekly cleaning of the apartment. I made sure the air conditioner was put to some use.

I was bored after doing that so I decided to take a drive. Yeah I dragged my ass behind the wheel and went to Wal-Mart. Granted it’s not a Super Wal-Mart but it had been too long since I have hit up “my” store. I guess Wal-Mart is not a big thing in this area. They are everywhere in Illinois. Hell it’s one down the street from my mother’s house.

My boyfriend’s family reunion is in Detroit this year and awww I am invited. I promise I’ll behave. His family is a little on the bougie side. I mean they have catered events *among other things*. Hell in my family my uncle’s cooking is considered “catered” because he brings it from his house to wherever we are having the function. Of course said function has to be in the vicinity of a liquor store but that’s another story. Hell you know you can't eat everyone's potato salad. We're at the table like, "Who made this? Ummmpt you know I don't mess with her cooking..."

Oh yeah like I said, I tapped that ass in bowling last night. Had to send him on his way licking his wounds and sh*t. Oh you know I had to rub it in since he was talking big sh*t before the game. *sigh* Men and competition.

Then there was this car in the parking lot that was trailing these two cats. When I first saw the car I thought the driver was on some sadist sh*t and you know I was about to be all over that. I thought he was trying to run over the kitties which were cute as hell. But apparently the guy was just trailing the cats *I’m going to assume they were his* and when the cats got tired, they hopped in the car and the guy drove off.

Alexandria has some weird residents. The only exercise my lazy ass cat gets in when he walks from the bedroom to his food dish. I wish I would put his furry ass in my car for a drive. He already acts like a damn dog as it is I am not trying to encourage his behavior.

And the ball is in motion for my trip back to Chicago. I’m actually going to buy the ticket early and everything. I can’t wait to touch down in the city. I wanted to go to Atlanta for my boyfriend’s family reunion *mother’s side* but my “old” job is being a baby about time off. I’m like “Damn excuse me for being young and having the means to travel” but of course I can’t say that. One write up is all that’s needed to void my transfer so for the next couple of weeks I’m going to have to really try to bite my tongue.

Already it’s gotten through the circuits that I’m leaving. I’ve been getting random phone calls all day. I’m like, “One how did you get my number and two why are you calling me before nine?” Folks are speculating my leave with it being everything from me being knocked up to “creative differences”. I’m like, “Damn I’m just tired of the bullsh*t politics here. Can a sister transfer in peace?” Some folks are probably applauding my departure.

I also received an email from an old friend in high school. I guess it’s a good thing that I have had the same Hotmail and Yahoo account since high school, hence the lame ass name *lol* Hey I couldn’t think of anything at the time so sue me. Blame TV. I’ve kept in touch with her cousin via FaceBook but I never got a chance to call her like I said I was. Hey everyone knows I am bad when it comes to calling folks on my end or returning phone calls. It’s been two weeks and counting since my godson’s mother called and I have yet to call her back. She just want to curse me out for “forgetting” to call her for her birthday but I guess when she finally gets around to checking her voicemail she’ll zip her lip. This girl is so bad at checking her voicemail, I know she has some that are reaching that 30 day limit. At least I check my voicemail every night sheesh.

So we’re chatting via IM about life. I found she is married to her high school sweetie who I was cool with in high school. B*tch done popped out her second shorty. I told her about them West Indies niggas. Have her ass dropping a load every six months, b*tch just permanently pregnant and sh*t. So she gets tired of chatting and calls me. And since I have Verizon and so do she, I pick up *lol* Hell it’s hard to find Verizon subscribers, I gotta hold on to the ones that I do know. Muthaf*ckers acting like they too good for Verizon but Nextel got sh*tter since hooking up with Sprint plus they too damn expensive. I wish I would pay $400 for a damn phone. That sh*t better come with a matching outfit and some shoes. Plus I can still b*tch with Verizon and they actually do something. Sprint, oh them, they just cut your sh*t off. Their agents are like, “F*ck you mean you not paying sh*t this month until you see results? Oh ok, we got you. Aye cut her sh*t off”. Sh*t disconnect right in the middle of your conversation. I mean Verizon has its problems but I can chat on the train with my phone.

So we’re talking, basically catching up because I haven’t talked to her since she had her first child, a boy, almost five years ago, and she’s telling me about the new baby, a girl, so I make a crack about her or something and she just bust into tears.

Scared the hell out of me! I almost drop my phone because one minute she’s laughing and the next minute she’s bawling her eyes out.

Through her incoherent words I hear that she’s unhappy in her marriage and she’s tired of having kids. In fact she thinks she’s pregnant again and she doesn’t want it and of course what do I think she should do? At this point I’m thinking her husband can’t breathe on me let alone touch me for fear of being pregnant. I don’t know how I will be able to explain this one to folks. I mean he must have that Bull’s-eye sperm to be hitting the jackpot every time. I mean damn sperm just scuba diving for eggs and sh*t.

I’m also thinking I need to just open an advice column or something. Ask Tenacious or something. I mean damn I am not the best advice giver in the world. I am a very good listener but I feel when it comes to advice, I am the worst. Primarily because it is never followed. I tell folks don’t confuse me being blunt and honest with giving out advice. Don’t ask what I would do because we all know I am different from you and would go about the situation in probably a different way. I don’t mind giving it out but I feel that if you’re honestly not going to follow it, I’m not going to waste my breathe. Besides I hate to say “I told you so”. Ok well sometimes I do but that’s beside the point.

So I listen to her as she mentions all this stuff that I never knew. Now dude is a good dude. He’s in school and he works a full time job. Never cheated. An excellent provider for her and the kids and the fact that he married his “baby momma” is a plus nowadays. Hell she’s describing him, I’m like, “Now why didn’t I hook up with him in high school?” But then again he seems like he have an abnormally large sperm count. I could be in the position she’s in now.

Basically she’s bored and she feels that she has squandered her youth being with him and she is overwhelmed by the “married” life. She loves him and she love her children but she feels like she is suffocating sometimes. And he keeps talking about “more” kids and she feels like throwing herself in front of a bus *her words* than have another child. I did have to point out that the CTA is notoriously slow so she’s going to have to invest a lot of time in scheduling a bus that is going to come alone at the right time. Besides the CTA buses are so raggedly they’re like a tire away from falling apart.

Of course I asked her have she bought this to her husband’s attention about her thoughts and of course she said “No”. So I’m like “Well why are you telling me this…You should be talking to him about this…”

DH *Desperate Housewife is now her alias*: Well I know you would understand…

ME: But I’m not married. I don’t have any children. Nor do I feel like throwing my self in front of a bus.

DH: You always give me good advice…


ME: Just because I talked you out of buying that dress Senior Year do not mean I am a good advice giver. I think that if you’re genuinely unhappy and you feel like this your husband should be the first person you talk to. I am the wrong person as I can not relate to this one. I can feel where you coming from, the “trapped” feeling, but I don’t have a ring that ties me to anyone.

DH: *crying again* I feel stupid talking to [husband’s name] because I seem dumb. I mean I can see if he was a crappy husband, a lousy provider or something that gives me a justification to want to get out this marriage but he is a great husband, he does provide for us. What do you think I should do?

She went on to cry a little more but I told her to talk to her husband about her feelings and then call me later. Was I callous? I felt bad after getting off the phone because of my nonchalant attitude but at the same time tears annoy me. It’s hard for me to talk when you’re crying into the phone and I can’t understand half of what the person is saying.

Besides this is a husband not a boyfriend. I don’t want her to f*ck around and end up in divorce court f*cking with me. Besides I know her husband and from what I remember he has always been a great guy. She admits that he is a great guy. Besides I think there’s more to this story than meets the eye. You don’t just wake up one day and decide you’re suddenly “unhappy” with your life. You must have felt this way for a while and just ignored it until it became too late. I think she was unhappy from jump but just felt “stuck”. And now she realize that being a young wife with two small children is more than what she signed up for. I try to stay out of relationship advice as what works for the goose doesn’t always work for the gander. After she calms down and hopefully talk to her husband, then I will form an opinion. Besides like I suspect there’s more to this story than she lets on. I don’t want to be super nosy and call her cousin *I know she knows all the dirt* but I don’t want to jump right into giving advice considering we just got in contact with one another and a lot has changed since high school. I had broken up with JDUBB, finished my first year of college plus I was with my current boyfriend and we were just getting serious the last time we talked. I’m talking about frat parties and she’s talking about nursing bras.

But as always I will keep everyone posted I told her to call me tomorrow when she gets off of work.

Something tells me though that she did not talk to her husband and she’s waiting for me to tell her to get a divorce or something. I did tell her to invest in some damn birth control though. Just because he wants to bust a nut in you every night does not mean you can’t shield your damn eggs for the time being. I mean even if you have to sneak a pill every day do something until you get your feelings resolved. And for god’s sake, take a test! Stop swimming down that river of denial and check to see if he succeeded in producing baby number three.

I don’t know everyone.


I need to start sending my resume off to The Washington Post. Maybe they’re looking for an urban sister who “keeps it real”.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Random Entries Are Fun!

Ok Kudos to me…I got the job!

*dusts off shoulder* It was nothing. I knew everyone so it was a breeze. So I guess in the next two or three weeks I will be working some where else which means I have to get my ass out the bed earlier to make it on time for work but whatever. I don’t mind the commute, the new job is in Rossyln, which is like 10 minutes from my apartment.

I’ll miss everyone at my old job but hell some of them were working my nerves anyway.

So tell me why I’m walking down the street to the Metro and this FedEx guy must have trailed my ass and circled the block to get my attention. I mean damn I peeped him the first eight times he was calling, “Ay Shawty” but I guess he was like, “Oh hell naw, this b*tch is gonna acknowledge me” and stalked me to the train station’s entrance. He got out the car and everything. He was about to get that ass beat for grabbing my damn arm, startling me because I thought he would have given up at the entrance, and damn near making me drop my I-Pod. Yall know I was about to kick off the 4 inches heels and get gully. Do Not Grab My Purse Arm! I think I’m going to get a shirt made with that one it.

So he tried to spit some game but I had to laugh in his face because it was so weak even the older White men were shaking their head like, “This nigga a trip!” He was aiight looking but I promised to curb my roaming eye *even though I keep telling my boyfriend I have a lazy eye and he really shouldn’t be pointing out my disability lol* for the time being. Besides it seems like when I did not have a boyfriend, I couldn’t pay a nigga to give me some attention but now that I have someone, everyone wants to “wife’ me up. Someone please answer and tell me why the hell that is. Is that the new thing as well, having a “boyfriend” or “girlfriend”? Hell I remember when dudes just wanted to f*ck and I was insulted; now they want real girlfriends and sh*t. Want to strong arm a sista into a relationship and sh*t. What ever happened to just plain “f*ck buddies”? I know they still exist out there.

And why was I at work and two of the finest specimens on earth walked in and wanted change? Me and my girl were just drooling. I know I said I wasn’t going to be a flirt but hell I can still look! And look I did. I was staring at their faces for so long I know they thought I was retarded. I think one must have asked for change for a $5 bill about four times until my brain registered on the words and not on the lips. *sigh* I was so mad that I let them walk away. See the sacrifices I make for love *and to keep the boyfriend off my neck*? Damn I was sick the whole night. My manager was joking that he was surprised that I did not get my flirt on. I had to sulk away in shame. Damn I am so not ready to burn my card.

And another walked in yesterday night. He was a little too light for my taste but he had the prettiest grey eyes. You know I was scoping to see if them b*tches were contacts. I’m sorry but men who wear colored contacts screams “Ghey” to me *makes limp wrist motion* You know damn well your black ass don’t have forest green eyes! Just stop! Light skin does not equal light eyes! I know there are dark skinned folks out there with light eyes but damn the ones who be perpetrating. I saw your ass yesterday and your eyes were plain brown. Now they purple. Getthafuccouttahere! So after confirming that they were indeed his *besides he looked a little too “thuggish” for colored contacts lens but I know “homo-thugs” are out there lurking…Hmmm why are YOU really walking with a “swagger”* Knowing damn well they "sashaying". He had an obnoxious amount of tattoos too but I can work around that. I don’t mind a few but this nigga had damn near every square inch covered with some form of a tattoo. But in a way it kind of worked. I mean he was light skinned and the tattoos did kind of pop out. And he had some nice teeth.

But he killed me when he wanted change for a $100 bill…in singles.

Yeah he wanted $100 single dollar bills.

So you know where he was headed.

I was like damn you could at least slip a 5 spot in that garter. I mean damn you’re going to make her work for those singles. He tried to deny where he was going *oh you think I didn’t ask* but he was laughing too hard. And why did I spot some dimples? You know panties got soaked after that. I am a sucker for some dimples. Had to come home and take my frustration out on the boyfriend *lol* Well he has dimples too but they are not as deep as the guy's.

But yeah I had to let this one walk away as well. He wanted my number but I had to decline.


Tonight the boyfriend and I are supposed to go out bowling. Of course I’m going to beat him *as usual*. I have been bowling since I was 10 years old and while I am not as good as my younger brother, my mother, and my aunt, I am pretty good when I want to. I need to buy another bowling ball and shoes since I left my bag in Chicago. I am something of a sports klutz anyway. I can only do the “lame” sports but I can swim my ass off. I’m breaking down Black Folks stereotypes one dooky braid at a time.


Why did I see a girl with Poetic Justice braids this morning? I thought that style of braiding went out with well Poetic Justice. I was too through. Home girl was rocking the braids and that annoying skirt/legging thing. I think that sh*t is ugly as f*ck. Maybe I’m hating because my knees look super knobby in spandex but whatever. Right now it is too hot to be layering anything. Hell I was mad I had to wear a bra today. Didn’t want the boobies poking out through the camisole when I took off my hot ass suit jacket. I save that look for the club *lol* And my feet were killing me. I knew I should have worn the big purse so I can slip my patent flip-flops in there but noooo Tenacious had to be too cute walking down the street. Now I’m soaking these bad boys in my Wal-Mart spa. Hey don’t front, that spa works some wonders and all for $12. Should I be mad though that the little ghetto salon where I get my hair done has the same exact spa for the “Nail” section? They just throw a pitcher of warm water in there and call it a day. Still be having Kool-Aid residue at the bottom of the pitcher and sh*t. What flavor? You know it’s RED!

You know only white people know the exact name. In my house it was always RED. We didn’t really care about the flavor *although cherry is my favorite if you want to get technical* as long as it was RED. Oooh and don’t let me get on GRAPE. We only drank RED and GRAPE Kool-Aid. My room mate and I in college always had a pitcher of Kool-Aid *with sugar residue floating around and at the bottom because you know we only made it Ghetto Sweet* in our little refrigerator. And don’t let someone put the pitcher back with that little swallow of Kool-Aid at the bottom, that’s a fight! Who the hell drank all the Kool-Aid? *LOL*

My boyfriend does that now and I just want to smack fire out his ass sometimes. Talking about “I was saving you some…” What the hell is that little drink going to do? That ain’t even wetting the tongue, that old shot-glass worth of drink. But I am used to it growing up with a bottomless pit of a stomach younger brother.

I have to find my checkbook. I don’t know where the hell I placed it. It’s only five checks left in the checkbook but still I want to find it before I call in those check numbers as “missing”. Because I will beat an ass if someone think they’re going to live good on my expense. Hell my tank ain’t full…What the hell make you think yours should be filled on my account? I don’t think anyone took it because no one has been over in the past two weeks and I woke a check last week but I just don’t know where I set it down. That’s why I hate writing damn checks. These f*cking companies need to hop on some Online Payment Methods or damn at least in the call centers or something. Who the hell writes checks any more? I still have entire books of stamps from my last bank. And I have to mail a check back to Illinois which is going to take a couple of days to arrive and process.

I’m trying to go home for the 4th. I think I’m just going to go that weekend although I will be missing the Taste of Chicago. But I get to see my niece and since she’s past the six week check point that means my little mama is going to be hitting the streets with me although people will think she’s mine. It’s funny, all my brother’s kids *and that’s a damn shame they’re in the plural sense* folks think that they are mine. My nephew is my brother’s mini-me. They look so much alike it’s scary. And my niece is high yellow and look like her mother. But folks think that they are mine. I don’t mind but damn people stop pressing other people’s kids on me! I know the teen pregnancy rate is sky high and it’s rare to see someone my age *23* without any children but please, I strap up every time *ok ok I’ve had a few slip ups but dammit it feels so much better without the condom* and besides the Lawd knows me. He is not ready to release my spawn on the world. Hell I am not ready to release my spawn on the world. But I do have cute outfits for my niece and nephew. And no she not rocking the baby halter and dukes I see some babies in. That sh*t is just sad.

Besides my body is looking too right for the inevitable stretch marks. It’s bad enough I discovered a few light ones on my ass, them b*tches don’t need to connect and form the Beltway and sh*t.

*thinks about it and commence to slapping Cocoa Butter on*

I want the new Treo but I don’t want to pay retail price so it’s Ebaying time. A b*tch is about to have yet another bidding war.

Oh yeah I’ve noticed I’ve had a few more people commenting *blows kiss* Don’t be shy. Hit me on the chat box or Yahoo! Messenger. I log on pretty frequently so I can be entertained by the always humorous T.Cas.

T. Cas and the “Choose Your Own Adventures”, another one of my Daily Reads commented about “Sweet Valley High” and “The Baby-Sitters Club”. You could not tear me away from any of these books although I always thought Jessica was a sneaky, evil b*tch and Claudia and Dawn were my favorites. Jessi was a little boring to me although she was the only Black kid in the entire sixth grade, I had to feel her pain *lol* I never started a Baby Sitters Club though, hell the kids in my neighborhood were too bad and ghetto. Besides you know their brothers and sisters were the only “baby sitter” they mamas needed.

Damn yall going “old” school reads on me. Is it bad that I have a nice chunk of “SVH” and “BSC” sitting on my bookshelf right now? Is it bad that I got into a bidding war to win these books? *lol*

Let me log on to Ebay right now.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

T And Interracial Dating....

Completely random question: How is a lesbian, well, a lesbian if she uses a dildo? I mean doesn’t that defeat the purpose, of well, being a lesbian? I mean someone, really, answer that?

LOL I was wondering that last night while chatting with T.Cas.

So as I wait for the water to come back on *and yes I paid my bill this month the apartment is doing repairs to the pipe* so I can drag my funky ass in the shower to drag my ass to work, I decided to post right now rather than when I get home and I’m all semi-cranky from dealing with people all night.

One of the adorable little white guys at work yesterday asked me if I would ever date someone outside my race. I mean, what year is this? I’m going to assume by “date” he meant “f*ck” because I know he likes a lil’ chocolate on top of his ice cream. I told him I would…But with limitations. I mean Hispanics are a given because mmmm I have seen some fine ass Dominicans, Cubans, and Puerto Ricans. I am like, “Ey Papi, Como Te Llamas?” *lol* Ok that’s basically all the Spanish I remember never mind the two years in high school and three semesters in college. But I know what they’re saying on Telemundo.

So I’m assuming he meant “WB”. Now in an earlier post, I touched on some of my distaste for “WB”. “WB” standing, of course, for “White Boys”. I mean for the most part I see majority as racist pricks. Sorry but I do. But I am guilty of having “WB” husbands. I don’t think I would date an average “WB” because most of them just look goofy as hell. I mean damn would it kill you to buy a new pair of sneakers? I mean them b*tches are like one step away from falling apart. I mean you can not come out with me looking like a homeless dude, I don’t give a f*ck how much those jeans cost. Hem them b*tches up! And your shirt will NOT be tighter than mine. Polo just cutting off all circulation in the arms and sh*t. No wonder some be so uptight, damn jeans hugging the nut sack. I’d be upset if my balls were looking like sport bra tits too. Just all smooshed in and sh*t.

My “WB” would have to be tanned *because paleness scares me* and dark haired. Hell, let me be real, from a distance he gotta look like a light skinned brother with “good” hair. In fact, he has to look fine as hell period. I want him so fine the white b*tches are hating, like “Damn…How she pull him? Them Black b*tches be stealing all the good ones” while they tugging on broke-ass Tyrone to come on. Because believe it or not, most white girls are taking the men our black asses don’t want. I mean aside from the gold digging hoochies who runs after the athletes and entertainers. I’ve done seen plenty of white girls with that broke ass nigga off the block, been with the nigga so long hell she begins to look black. Trust, it’s one in the salon where I get my hair done. And while we acknowledge her as the “token white girl” she’s not the token white girl. She can lay some Black hair to the side with the best of them. And yall know I don’t want not a white girl in my scalp.

And if he has to look “cornbread fed white boy” just white as snow *well not the snow in Chicago, that sh*t is slush* he has to look “movie star” good. I mean he has to be on the caliber of Brad Pitt or my other husband Justin. Screw yall, I heart Justified. He need a shave and a haircut right about now but he’s going to come back home to mama when he’s done with Cameron’s crazy ass. Just got him out there looking rough as hell. If you’re not a good looking blond, then you need to holler back. I mean sure after hanging with me and getting to know the family, he’d be like Eminem *another favorite of mine, crazy but still kinda sexy to me* after awhile.

And they all have to have some type of street smarts. No dinky asses over here. When I start to run, that means you do the same. No “investigating” or standing there like an idiot because you not me *because I’m down the block by then* will get popped off. And none of those “dumb ass questions that White People always ask” either because I’m already an centimeter from slapping the sh*t out of one more white person if they ask me “Do I wash my hair” or any other dumb ass question that have them backing away from me because they know I’m bout to snap. But then again and I will say this again, White Folks are trying to get crunk with Black people. Like they ain’t scared of us anymore or something. I’m going to have to restart “Striking Fear In White People’s Heart Movement.”

But I think I’m too much for a White Guy to handle. It’ll be like an Ike and Tina relationship because I know Ima punk the sh*t out his ass. He’d be flinching and sh*t like he’s on that sh*t with me. Have concealer and sh*t from where I had to slap his around and sh*t. Eat The Cornbread Bobby! I don’t know I just am seeing “possible wimp” when I think of someone like me with a White Guy. The white guys I do see with Black women either the one is really light and a “passer” anyway or she is African. And the others are the “hood” sisters but the guy is “hood” as hell. Like a Paul Wall or Bubba S. Even though they are so not hood to me but whatever. I don’t know I’d have to find one with some fire in him or something. Maybe one of these new breeds who ain’t scared of Black people.

But eww I just can’t fathom the “pinkness”. He’s gonna have to lay out in the sun naked or something. That sh*t would traumatize me or something. You know if I can see the sh*t in the dark? Like that sh*t standing out at night in the room? I’d run from that b*tch screaming. I don’t need a glow in the dark stick thank you very much. Looking like an uncooked hot dog and sh*t *LOL*

OMG I am so f*cking stupid. But hmmm I do kinda want to see what one actually looks like up close. Look at me trying to turn a White Guy into a science experiment. I can see me, FH and TWIN luring White Guys in the basement and sh*t. Talking about we got Soccer on TV and sh*t. LOL

I am one who doesn’t have a problem with interracial relationships. Hey if you wanna bring her home and she can’t use your comb, by all means make sure she uses it on the kids’ head or something. Little bi-racial girls be out looking crazy as hell. The “Kelis” afro only works on Kelis, not a 6 year old. Please style the babies’ heads. And please make sure the heifer look better than me. Don’t be bringing that rag doll around me like she’s Barbie or something. B*tch looking like the Dollar Store Barbie and we all know how bogus those dolls look. Just because she is “mixed” or “exotic” does not mean she’s cuter. And if you’re with someone for something other than love, then please seek treatment. Hell I was teased in elementary school by Black guys. I was told I was “too dark and ugly” by Black guys. Black guys have said a lot of mean things to me but does that mean when I fix myself up, I’m going to eliminate Black guys from my equation because I was teased? Oh go cry me a river. Boo f*cking Hoo. Like the same girls on your arm would have given you the time of day either.

My glasses are so thick I can see folks waving from a map *snicker I know…Old roasting jokes* but don’t think I didn’t dish out the teasing with the best of them. Ok and no I don’t wear my glasses AT ALL anymore. I am so vain that I rather walk around *which I did* with one contact in than put on my glasses. My boyfriend did not know I wore glasses until he saw the case. Hell a lot of people doesn’t know I wear contact lens. But any long time glasses to contacts wearer will let you know they rather walk around visionless than slap on their glasses. I don’t even wear them in the house. But then again who wants to wear bifocals proudly and you’re under the age of 65?

But hey if you love Becky, Chiang Lee, and Marisol for who they are, good for you. But if you’re with the above because they are not a Bonquita, Shakira, or LaTonya then like I said get some help. Besides when you cheat, who do you come running back to? The Sisters. So guys be real. I don’t want your damn money so stop with the “Black women are gold diggers” stereotype. All races have gold diggers. It’s not exclusively a “Black” thing. But a Black woman is a gold digger because after you hit the NBA, she hits you up for Child Support *nine times out of ten she’s tried to do it before but your ass was too broke then* to take care of your kids. But you swear up and down Becky *whom you met at a bar and she probably bust your ass up that first night* is not. Black women when we leave, we take the money and hell at least we’ll give you some visitation rights *ok most will we all know some gotta be ignorant b*tches about it* but a White girl? Sh*t she taking everything. Dirty drawls, the house, kids, dog, goldfish, the car, and half your salary. And she’ll have her new man in it all before the month is out *ok there’s Black women like this too to be fair*. I noticed that a lot with the athletes on my campus. Had a black girlfriend who did everything from washing uniforms to typing papers but as soon as they were drafted, picked up the pretty non-minority cheerleader. Or the “exotic” looking co-ed.

Really damn sad.

Now while the white guy at my job is adorable, I’ll never date him of course. His damn shoes look like he’s been building Pyramids with them b*tches. And he’s a blond. I’ll just sit and wait for Brad Pitt. I know Angelina is going to get tired of him pretty soon. And mama will be here to pick up the pieces *lol* Even though I heard Brad does like a little chocolate in his diet.

But enough about my mini-rant: What about you guys? Have you/will you ever date outside your race?

Monday, June 19, 2006

Typical Ass Me...

So I found the camera cord *it was under the bed* so I have updated my Flickr pictures so check those out if you have time. When I scan some of my old pictures I will also put those up as well. I have way more pictures but I don’t want to make anyone unintentionally “famous” *lol* by plastering their mug all over my blog. *sigh* I am a self professed camera whore.


Just a camera one. Not a real one. Although I have been called a real one several times.

Oh yeah I also “borrowed” *because steal is a dirty word* the little chat box thing from T.Cas so feel free to comment on that as well if you’re too lazy to do the word verification thing. I hate that thing by the way, it’s like they purposely try to trick my half-blind ass when I’m trying to post something to someone’s page at night and then I have to do the damn thing like three times before there are letters that I can distinguish. *lol*

BTW T.Cas don’t think I haven’t noticed you haven’t posted anything since Thursday which is so unlike you. I did like the food post though. I, on the other hand, prefer oatmeal to grits. In fact, I hate grits. Just yucky. But some apple and cinnamon oatmeal? Ooh and the Quakers not the bootleg joint? Yum Yum. I was just too lazy to find pictures and name just 10 of my favorites foods? That’s too hard for me. O why does it appear like I sat in a class or two of Obsession 101? *lol*

*ducks out before Professor begins roll call*

Wednesday I have a job interview at one of the hotels in Rossyln. I know the managers and we’re really cool so this should be a shoe in. In fact they are anticipating my interview but still wish me luck. You never know. But it’s funny because ever since I posted, the managers at my property are begging me not to leave. They haven’t been doing it for anyone (as far as I can see they’ve been giving the “two finger” salute) but they do not want me to leave. And I mean that’s everyone at the job. Damn I did not know that I was that popular. Hmm maybe because I speak to everyone and don’t act like my sh*t don’t stink. It’s just been a little weird.

Newsflash: I am going to get engaged pretty soon *slams door runs down hall screaming* I saw the ring and I saw the Zales statement. Ok well not the actual statement *I don’t open his mail although you know my nosy ass be itching to but hell someone might send his ass some Anthrax through the mail or some sh*t and f*ck us both us* but I did see the envelope *lol*

^Why is a brutha trying to lock a sista down? *lol* I personally plan on having a long engagement. I still am not getting married until I am 25. Damn that. So I can get knocked on the honeymoon? Yeah aiight. Besides I want to wait until he is finished with his schooling. Well at least his Masters. Besides I have to rustle up some more females for the wedding. I only have 2 female best friends, a handful of female associates, and a couple of female cousins whom I am cool with. Besides my niece is still an infant. I want her to be my little flower girl.

*lol at me post-planning the wedding*

I am ready but of course not ready to be dragged down the aisle at gunpoint. I don’t think I’m afraid of commitment, I think I’m afraid of f*cking up. I admit I purposely messed up a few potential relationships but that’s because I am afraid of letting someone get real close to me. Like he has a certain image of me that will become flawed once they know the real T. Is it stupid to think like that? Like I’m not trying to reach the coveted “MOTHER” pedestal men place their mother on *by no means am I trying to get to that status lol* but I don’t want to tumble off the one that I am placed on. Of course my boyfriend knows a lot about me but he does not know a lot about me. I just believe there’s some sh*t I need to keep to myself. And no I wasn’t a man in a past life, have had/have an STD, turned tricks, or have slept with an obnoxious amount of men but there are personal things that I keep to myself. The kind that only God and I know. Ok and no I don’t have any “bodies” under my belt. At least none that I think. I’m sure I left a couple of them alive or something. *lol*

No just kidding. As Ezell from Friday put it: I steal, I don’t kill. *lol* I was watching the DVD yet again. I know every line in that movie by heart.

So the remainder of my weekend was kind of a bust. I wanted to go out but since Big Tigger *is he really supposed to be gay? I read that in one of my blogs or something?* had the city basically on lock all weekend, all the lines were too long at some of my usual spots and basically empty at some of my others. I was kind of mad because it was nice and breezy at night and I did go shopping yet again not to mention my boyfriend was thoughtful and bought me this cute sundress I had been eyeing too hard last week. That’s my thing this summer-sundresses. Sure I haven’t worn one since I was like 6 and it came with matching undies or whatever those things are because they damn sure ain’t shorts but whatever. I just don’t like the styles for some. I mean they look like damn 1970s housecoats and sh*t. Just look grungy as hell. Besides I’m too short for the one I really want. It’s long or whatever but sh*t I put that b*tch on, it was like a wedding gown. I had a train and everything. I wanted to buy it and get it hemmed up because that bad boy was dragging but I don’t want it to look like a Victorian nightgown on me either. But still it was cute. I might just go back and get it. That’s one gripe I hate about being short. All of my jeans drag the ground so I have to cuff them or get them hemmed, I can’t get “short” length because I would flood because I have hips and a butt. I have a variety of sizes in my closet because I like my bottoms to fit more in the waist *none of that bunchie looking waist* than the leg but in order for that to work I have to by “regular” or “long” length jeans like short girls can’t have a big butt or something. Of course my urban brands “Baby Phat, Ecko, Enyce* fits me perfectly but it’s my other brands *Guess, L.E.I, Tommy, The Limited, Old Navy* that give such pains. And I’ll be damn if I ever spend more than $60 for one pair of jeans. That b*tch better come with the jacket and a damn shirt. I never understood how folks will drop $200 for just one pair of jeans. I’m like “Damn what type of materials are they using? Cambodian breast milk fibers?” Is the cotton really that different? I’m sure the slaves weren’t having philosophical debates over the cotton they were toiling over day in and day out but hey I guess if you have money to blow then by all means waste away. And if you really want to just throw some money away, you can always just send it to me. I’ll make sure it goes to the right stores.

I understand “upscale” items have better materials but damn the little tote I got from Payless can do the same thing as that Chanel bag. I mean does a Chanel bag hold a wallet better or something? Hell I have beat many of people down with my little “cheap” bags than with the expensive ones I have shelled out. Hell I’m too damn paranoid to take the expensive ones out the house. I’m guarding that bad boy like it got priceless jewels and sh*t. Not a droplet of sweat is hitting the purse. And a fight? And put my purse down on the ground? Yeah aiight. I’m fighting with the damn purse on my arm.

Or maybe I’m just cheap. Shoes I will spend a grip for but everything else? It’s not like men know every single brand of jeans out there for women. And if they do, that should tell you something. I can wear the little $20 jeans I got and a guy will swear up and down I paid $80 for them. L.E.I? What’s that? How much they cost, like $100? Hell I will buy some sh*t from Walmart or Tar-Ghey *although Tar-Ghey has been stepping it up big time* in a heartbeat. I buy whatever looks cute on me. I’ve gotten plenty of compliments on this shirt I bought from Wal-Mart and it was on the clearance rack. Folks swear I paid a grip because some celeb had on a similar one. I’m like I got this for $5. And got some change back. Why blow an entire paycheck on an outfit? If a guy is checking out my outfit more than me, that should tell you something. He wants to know if that comes in his size hunny *snaps in Z formation*

As long as it doesn’t reek cheap *ie., polyester, pleather, shiny vinyl* or just is cut really cheap *think low budget strip club* or hell just look cheap period I will probably wear it. Ok I won’t wear any form of animal print either. But that’s just me. Walking around looking like a damn Thundercat is not sexy. She-ra is not my fashion muse.

So if you see me and you really think I paid a grip for my outfit, please. The shoes probably cost more than the top and bottom. And I probably swiped the shirt from a friend.

Well I guess it depends on your opinion on cheap. Like I said $60 is my limit unless the jeans are so damn cute I can’t resist. Shirts, ehhh it depends. I don’t think I have a shirt that cost more than $75 in my closet. Now I will break off some bread for dresses, skirts, and shoes. Gotta look good for church you know.

But I’m a shopoholic, I know how to sniff out a sale with the best of them. Hell I will travel for a sale. But now I’m at the “Get In, Get Out” stage at the mall. I go to the mall, get what I need, and I bounce. No more window shopping or just strolling through the mall, a sister got other things to do so I just go in, buy what I need, and leave. And I always try to hit up the mall before 3 or 4, that ways the teens are still in school and I can shop in piece. You know I’m still in the Junior section at the mall. Sometimes I can slide over to the Petites but my ass has been firmly rooted in the Juniors section since 14. Besides I have a fear of “mom jeans” *lol*

EAGLE EYE has resumed his calling. He is now “Do Not Answer”. And of course I knew it was time because my stalker-sense was beeping, JDUBB called with his semi-annual “I’ve Ruined His Life” speech. Apparently once again he has broken up with yet another woman because of his reoccurring issues with me. *sigh* What is this now? Year FIVE since we have broken up? Damn it was HIGH SCHOOL when we broke up! I’m a COLLEGE GRADUATE now! *sigh* I think he needs someone to rant to. That or he seriously needs to get laid. I think he will become a problem on my wedding day.

And I wish (Because Black People Don’t Hope) this Negro would come clown on my day.

I will have to kick his ass with my purse on my arm and my train wrapped around my waist.

Friday, June 16, 2006

The Conclusion...

*Ok I don't know why Blogger won't let me post pictures...Old Bootleg Asses*

Ok when you last left me I was fuming about my boyfriend reading my blog.

He says “Hi” by the way. He was not amused by my shout-out.

Now while I haven’t spoken on anything that he is not already aware of, he was nonetheless jealous of my blog readers. He got in his head that I reveal more to yall than him. Untrue but you can’t tell that to a person who once he accepts something as “fact” he’s pretty, well, tenacious in his viewpoint. I was just pissed that he tried to twist my words and make something out of nothing.

He even called my best friend FH and asked her if I was fucking CUTIE. Of course my temperature hit the roof. How dare he call my best friend to get dirt on me? FH wouldn’t tell him if I was fucking someone else anyway. She’s loyal like that. I was hurt that he was thinking I was having “an affair” *his words* with some guy I just met. The conversation mirrored the turbulent times after I revealed that I did cheat on him two years ago. Although I party and bullshit, I have not slept with anyone other than him since that bastard slipped into my drawls. I was so hurt I was going to move back home to Chicago. Had started to put work transfer papers in and everything because I refuse to stay with someone who does not trust me as a person and think I would have so low as moral as to fuck another man and come home to him like it’s nothing. I felt like dirt the time I did cheat on him and I vowed never to do that again. Tenacious does not hurt folks I care about feelings.

Yeah yall I was pissed. I was more pissed that he would go behind my back instead of flat out asking me if I was cheating. So we argued about this yet another day. But as always, we made up. I guess it was time for our semi annual blow-up anyway. We were overdue for one. So as part of the compromise, I can’t be friends with CUTIE anymore. I called him and basically told him what the deal was. He was a little insulted that my boyfriend would think he was some grimey ass nigga who was on the troll for booty but he was like, “Well I can only accept your decision. You are a cool female but hey if that what you want, then ok. Catch you on the flip side.” CUTIE was the closest I was going to get to my crush of the month T.I. since he was a little look alike but oh well. What ever makes the boyfriend happy.

I don’t like being told who I can and can not talk to but whatever. Yall know I am not a happy camper. It’s not the point about CUTIE being around but the point that my boyfriend does not trust me to behave around other guys. Plus he thinks CUTIE is going to “replace” him. Replace him with what I am still wondering. The guy was cool to kick it with and shoot the breeze but he is by no means my boyfriend. Dude has enough women sniffing around his ass to be satisfied.

Damn these good looks and body.

*shakes fist*

But hey I feel where he’s coming from. So the intervention starts today. My flirting intake is about to take a severe hit.

So after we go ahead and nip this in the bud, of course we have great make up sex. Now T. Cas, you really thought I was going to get some hot, sweaty make-up sex? We now gotta Magic Erase the walls and sh*t. Scuff marks all through that bad boy. Hell if I knew it was going to be that good, hell I would’ve done a little more flirting. LOL

Thursday I had to hit up my hood shop beautician to get the butters whipped. It was time. I was tired of the 7th grade bun I was rocking since I came back from Orlando. She hooked my shit up lovely although I did not like all the curls she put in my hair. I mean it was a simple roller wrap but I don’t like the curly ends. I was borderline “Church Usher” curls and shit. My hair is too thick for all that. And it will hold the shit out of a curl. I had that straw set in for three weeks before I got tired of looking at it and washed it out. And I’m talking about the one I got done around my birthday, which was May 10. I washed that shit out May 27th. You do the math.

Once again I’ll be working the night shift for the next week. That damn transfer is not coming in soon enough. From Saturday until Tuesday a bitch will be suffering at the job. I am not thrilled.

I owe the State of Illinois $282 from my car accident last July. Apparently I hit a damn gate and now I have to pay to fix the raggely ass barbed wire fence which I can get from Home Depot for .49 a yard and get a crackhead to install if for me for less than that price *hell $20 and they’ll pave the entire I-57* so I am too pissed. I know I didn’t hit that gate they just want to pay for someone else’s accident. Killing part is that I had the original traffic accident report that is vastly different from the one turned in and it “mysteriously” disappeared. So I’m fucked. I’m grumbling as I write this check out. *shakes fist at Illinois*

Went to DuPont Circle yesterday and got slapped at The Front Page and Fly. I was looking good and DuPont Circle is notorious for its gay crowd so I had to turn on my “gay-dar”. No get down “down low” brothers are coming near me. I mean if you’re gay you’re gay. I don’t care as long as you don’t take any of the sexy ones with you. I hate seeing a fine ass gay man. Just makes me want to bitch slap him and tongue kiss him back to the pussy. Come away from the dark side Cute Ones. Hell take some of the ugly guys off my hands. Just trifling. I love gay men but not gay women. I’ve had enough bad experiences with them to keep my distance. Sometimes I really do think I have “closet-lesbian” stamped on my forehead because they keep coming for me. Damn give a girl a compliment on a shirt and she tries to convert you. I am the proud president of the “I heart Penis” club. Fish is not on my damn menu. Ladies who likes ladies please leave me be. I’m too pretty for jail. I really am.

So anyway I’m in DuPont Circle and I’m a little leery just because I have been informed of the activities that go on in the area. So I’m expecting blow jobs in the alley, dance off like the “Beat It: video and a lot of snapping in Z formation. Surprisingly there was none of the above. Ok a blow job in the ladies bathroom but they were of the opposite sex. The bars were multicultural, not enough “black” music *at first* but the drinks were flowing freely. I was a little mad that The Front Page had the game playing directly over the dance floor so it was more people standing around watching the game then dancing. A cute guy did catch my eye but true to my word, I shunned his ass. I died a little on the inside you know that right? LOL So I’m just getting slapped, dancing on the tables and in the booth, bothering the DJ whom I got to play every Black song I could think of. I was a little mad he did not have my cut of the week, “Number One” by Pharrell and Kanye *the video cracks me the fuck up on soo many levels though* but it was cool. He had plenty of Dance Hall to keep me satisfied. I was just a clown. Stumbled to the bathroom to witness an open arena blow job in the bathroom. Old girl had some serious skills too. I hope she knew dude though. I mean she was going to town on his ass. Need I tell you her skin color? Shit I felt like getting in line LOLOL. I was like damn at least close the door. And honey your knees are going to get all bruised on the cold tile, I mean damn at least put some toilet paper down for some leverage and comfort.

Then after clowning, we headed to Fly up the street where about four homeless guys tried to boguard some change from our asses. Sadly I didn’t have any change. Fly was straight. I like the interior. It was kinda shaped like an airplane. A little “Soul Plane”ish but it was still cute. It was full of the “bougie” crowd though. I didn’t care I still shook my ass on the dance floor.

Went home and crashed. Woke up, went to pay the cable bill and headed to Friendship Heights for a little shopping. My girl and I was going to go out and have a “Fuck Him Gurl” night *she’s mad at her boyfriend* but she never called. I guess they made up. Big Tigger is supposed to be having something here tonight at LOVE but that shit was wrapped around the block. It’s a no-go. So I’m going to eat some ice cream and bitch about my work schedule and catch up on my blog reading.

Drop me a line and tell me what I should write about next. I promise I’ll get to it *lol*

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Drama, Drama, Drama

Ok so why did my boyfriend reveal that he has been secretly reading my blog?

Should I be insulted or happy?

I mean there’s nothing here that he does not already know *ok maybe a few things* but he is upset.

More like jealous. More like insanely jealous.


He thinks that I tell strangers *i.e. my readers* more about my life than him. He claims that there are things on here that he doesn’t know about. Well maybe if he got off his damn Nextel or wasn’t watching ESPN while I’m talking then he would not be hearing it for the “second” time.

So everyone out there wave and shout “HELLO” to my nosy ass boyfriend.

Baby that dedication went out to you, ok? Don’t thank me for it, it was nothing.

No in fact, I’m pissed yall. Let me stop lying.

My blog is my baby. Mine. I have two people who know about my blog and to my knowledge they don’t read it. They see the crazy me all the time and hear the stories so why read it? While I don’t hide it, I see my blog as a personal venue. Sure it’s not personal if folks read and comment on it but it’s personal for me. It’s just a way for me to get all my thoughts out of my head and little funny shit that I might want to remember later when I am feeling down. In fact sometimes I read my archives just for a good laugh. While my writing style is not perfect, I am proud of my blog and like anything I am fiercely protective of it. Sure one day one of my friends will probably take the time to scan my blog and might not be happy with their portrayal in my blog, but it isn’t going to be a Best Man moment when Taye Diggs got the hell beat out of him by my husband Morris. In fact the greedy whores might beg for more inclusion into my daily life because we all know our friends are attention whores.

He had the nerve to twist up his mouth and tell me he doesn’t want me writing “untrue” things in my blog. It’s only “untrue” because he claims he never heard about it. Once again, if someone actually paid attention while I was talking then this would not be a discussion. I know men have selective hearing. Sure you don’t care about my random stories but I do expect you to listen. Ok so I never got around to telling him about the cutie at Ted’s. So what? I was going to get to it the next time it crossed my mind. I haven’t even been taking that way to work so I have not passed by Ted’s all week. I have other shit going on in my mind to tell someone every single detail. That’s why my blog is so random. I talk about whatever is in my mind at the time.

So he can dead that shit. I am not giving up my blog.

I guess what pisses me off is the sneaky way he did it. Oh he claims that he was trying to read one of my gossip blogs and oh instead of going to the favorites folder, which he sees me do everyday, he went into the address browser and just so happened to click on my blog.

I was born at night not last night.

He has been itching to read my blog for months going as far as to look over my shoulder when I am typing entries. He always like, “You’re on the computer more than anything” whining so much about me being on Yahoo Messenger with folks that I had to download it to my phone. As much as I told him to mind his own business, I see listening is not his best feature. I don’t have anything to hide but at the same time I don’t want him knowing every single aspect of my life. And that’s what he wants. And that is just not me.

I never mentioned it on my blog but he is a very jealous guy.

He is jealous because he thinks someone *my readers* know more about me than he does. Stupid right considering I’ve been with him for 4 plus years and I’ve been blogging for about six months now. Stupid considering he knows some of my deepest darkest secrets that I don’t want to write about just yet. But he’s upset because my readers heard about cutie from Ted’s before him? He is jealous because he feels I don’t dedicate enough time to him because I’m always on the computer. WE LIVE TOGETHER! How much more time do you want? Damn I see you everyday all day!

^^^Sorry that’s meant for him because I know he’s reading!

So not only am I going to keep my blog, I am going to keep writing about the random things that goes on in my life. I guess now I don’t have to tell him, he can just read the blog like everyone else. Hey that saves me talking time even though that can be bad for arguments *lol* because I mean it’s my words. Hell I’ll still argue to the death.

I just find this amusing so sorry for the third party rant. It’s so not like me. A guy that is jealous of a blog. How amusing. Won’t be jealous of anything else but are jealous of my readers. Guys you should feel extremely special. I would. A guy who has scores of affection written personally from me, my odes of love placed out there in cyberspace just for him, and he’s mad because of a dude from Ted’s.

I told him well you can always beat him up if it makes you feel better. I know what time he gets off, you can jump him in the parking garage.

While he is a pretty sensible guy, when he gets into one of his rants, I just let him blow off steam. I guess he was itching for an argument. It’s about time for our semi-annual big “blow up” that we always have. I guess we were overdue.

Then get this *lol* he gets mad at me because I did not get mad at him for going to a baseball game with another girl. Now when I used to pitch a fit “my jealousy was going to be the end of our relationship” *his words* but now that I am calmer and more rational, I don’t love him because I did not fall out for dead. Maybe I’m missing a point and I’m asking for advice here, but should I? Should I have been mad?

She went to school with us. They went out like way in the 8th grade. She had an extra ticket so it’s a free game. He does not find her attractive at all and I can agree since I have seen her *now if she looked like Gabrielle or something then oh hellz naw*. I had to work the night shift plus he’s been after me to go to a sporting event since we’ve been together. If it ain’t wrestling or ice skating *read the archives* then he can holler back. So he wants to go to a sporting event, I don’t, but someone has tickets.

So he came to my job and told me this and I encouraged him to go. After analyzing that I’m trying to “trick” him, I guess those tickets overwhelmed his thoughts and he went. I just asked did he have a good time and he said yes and I was like “oh ok”. He gets mad because I did not give him the reaction he wanted which was for me to flip out and him spend the night on the couch because I locked him out the bedroom.

My thing is: The pot can’t call the kettle black. And a person is going to do what they want. If I spent all my time stressing that he is going to cheat on me, eventually he will. Why? Because I expected him to. And why disappoint me? If the heifer wanted to suck his dick in front of all those people, by all means, go ahead. In fact, keep her ass around if she’s freaky like that. I don’t see the broad as competition. She is not his type so why am I upset about a girl he doesn’t find attractive? Now the bitches down at school were another story. I wasn’t mad primarily because I didn’t care. It’s a damn baseball game! Not a dinner for two! Is baseball games romantic or something? Am I missing something here? While the green eye monster can rear her ugly ass head sometimes, I am not that fucking jealous. I cared but not enough to make a big ass stink about it. I just didn’t see it as that serious. If that becomes my fault later on and they hook up I will personally blame myself because I did not see it coming. I must have given him too much credit. I must have just assumed four years in a relationship meant something. I was wrong. I guess he wasn’t mine after all huh if it took a baseball game to get into the drawls.

Besides I go out with the opposite sex. How can I really be mad if I’m going the same thing? What works for the goose works for the gander, right? What’s different I guess is that I find my male friends “cute” *which irks him* and he doesn’t find his female friends “cute”. Oh yeah I forgot “cute”=I want to fuck. Damn does everything translate to fucking now? First the heifers at work assume being friendly=we’re fucking. My boyfriend thinks when I acknowledge that someone other than him is cute that equals “I want to fuck”. And then the random niggas assume a phone numbers=”Let’s fuck”.

Has the world gone, well, fucking mad?!

So since I heart my blogging family sooo much and you guys obviously know soooo much more than he does, I’m going to include you in my business.

What’s the deal? Give me some honesty.

Make sure you wave to my peeping boyfriend on the way out.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Job Related Headaches

Was on T.Cas Page and this seemed interesting...Enjoy!

Who is in the house with you? Me & Attack Cat
Who are you thinking about now? No one
Who did you last talk to on the phone? The Boyfriend
Whose house did you last go to? Well I hung outside a house…
Whose birthday is next? Today's FH B-day
Who was the last person you had dinner with? Boyfriend
Who do you hope will take this survey? Who ever is reading this…

What was the last thing you ate? Hot wings
What was the last thing you drank? Water
What color pants are you wearing? I'm not wearing any right now…lol….I just rolled out the bed
What is the first thing you think when you wake up? Cut the f*cking alarm clock off!
What do you need right now? I need another vacation
What is the closest item near you that is blue? This bottle of water that has been sitting on the desk since Saturday
What are you wearing on your feet? Nothing, I don’t sleep in socks.
What instant messaging service do you use? yahoo
What is your favorite color? Blue
What is your most used away message? I don’t use one anymore, I just sign off
What is your favorite website? Check my daily reads plus my blog
What's your favorite shoe brand? I love Converse and Nike Air Ones
What song do you currently hear? No TV on

Where do you live? Arlington, VA (right outside DC for folks who doesn’t know)
Where is your phone? on the floor
Where do you sleep? In the bed but my naps are reserved for the couch
Where did you get the shirt you're wearing? I stole it from my boyfriend. I sleep in his shirts

When is your birthday? May 10, 1983
When did you last burn a candle? Saturday but Attack Cat’s tail ended up on fire
When did you wake up? 10:30ish
When did you do laundry last? Last week

Why does basically half the world have a Myspace or Blog? Well MySpace is the Devil and folks just need a venue….
You really think half the world has one? Nah
Why did you take this particular survey? It seemed interesting
Why are you in love? I’m in love because I love the person I’m with

Nothing really interesting happened last night. I had to work that dreaded night shift but overall the night passed quickly. My manager and I (the one I cursed out) had a discussion about some of the problems that he perceive that is going on in the Front Office and he asked me because well I “keep it real”. While I ain’t a snitch and I can only speak for myself, I clued him in on a few things but I told him that I think he’s taking everything way out of proportion. He works in a female dominated enviroment and catty-ness is sure to ensure in any environment where there are too many women around. Basically it’s cliques at my jobs and there’s the “Crab in a Barrel” mentality on top of the middleschoolish “I don’t like her therefore you’re my enemny if you like her” arguments that have been flying around.

T is a neutral party here. While I don’t like one of the girls at work, it’s not a witchhunt for me. I personally don’t like her and I have told her that I don’t like her. I’m not jumping on the bandwagon of ladies who just upped and decided that they don’t like her as well. Me and PASSER have an understanding. While you know the whats and whys on why I do not like you, make no mistake. If you feel I have said anything about you behind your back, by all means confront me and ask for confirmation. Because assuming makes an “ass” out of “u” and “me” *snicker* Real lame I know. I don’t know specifically why the other ladies at work don’t like her as well but I know it’s probably something real immature and petty. But I guess vicious office gossip has finally reached this manager’s ears and he wanted some clarification. I kept it real and told him I can only go off of my observation and based on the rumors that I have heard. I don’t speak for everyone and don’t expect me to be the group voice because I stand alone. I know how folks are and f*cking office gossip. I’ve heard so many so called “truths” about folks at work that it is ridiculous. I know sh*t about folks who I have yet to meet. I can tell half the pople at work their sex lives and how often they do it with whom at what time on what date at what motel/hotel/parking garage. I should be coming out the darkness throwing condoms like darts the way folks at work talk.

I am not a shit starter. I don’t instigate. Ok sometimes I do but I don’t throw fuel on the fire. Gossip actually bores me. Sure I read the trashy celeb magazine and half of my favorite blogs are gossip sites but I read just for entertainment and to kind of stay in the know. I can care less about whose screwing whom or new hairstyles and purses because 1) I believe everyone in Hollywood are hoes. 2)I can’t afford it 3) And even if I did, trust that purse or outfit would become an all-purpose outfit/bag real quickly. I mean I’m carting groceries in that bad boy. I’m wearing that outfit to everything. I’m going to get my money’s worth best believe that.

I can’t stand when my friends call me to gossip about someone else. I can care less about who such and such is secretly banging because I already knew way before you decided to burn up my daytime minutes to tell me. And besides I know if you are confronted you’re just going to deny it anyway. Not Tenacious. I have proudly earned my stripes as General of “The Keeping It Real” Army. Folks know that if Tenacious did not say it directly to you, it’s not true. But if you’re doubting it and would like confirmation, Tenacious will tell you whether or not she said it. If I did indeed say something, I would tell you. If I didn’t, I sure will find out whose putting my name in some drama. I hate that. Folks try to pass off shit as shit you would say. Even mimic the way I talk and say it in a way that would appear as something that I have said. Sometimes my sarcasm can be a real crutch because anyone who has hung around me long enough to know how I talk can easily concoct a statement that I would say and pass it off as my word. But folks know they can always approach me and ask.

My manager and I talked for over an hour about this and I told him to let shit ride. It’s petty female shit and trust a new victim is going to come along and everyone is going to pounce on that person. It’s like the Circle of Life. Everyone doesn’t like PASSER for whatever reason but like any bully, eventually you move on. I told him to hire a few more guys to balance out the overwhelming female population. And some cute ones. At least the clique will eventually tear themselves down through competition, thus breaking up the clone army. Folks at work kill me though. I’ve had to tell quite a few to stay the hell out of my business. Don’t worry about who’s calling me and who I am on the phone with. Don’t worry about why I am friendly with everyone at work (Because at my job being friendly=you’re fucking). I mean damn I can say hi right? So most of them leave me the hell alone. And stop trying to get in my conversations! Folks are notorious for that. They would see you having a conversation with someone and damn near bug you to death about the contents. Even go as low as to “tell” you a rumor that was said about you from that person in order for you to spill the beans. See what I mean? Immature shit. And the sinker is that majority of these women are over the age of 30. Now I’m 23 and there’s about three more women who are in my age range meaning 19-24. And these are grown ass women with kids my age acting like this is high school all over again.

That’s why I clock out with the swiftness. They don’t want the “punched-out” Tenacious.

Why are office politics such a headache? Do you have any office headaches that you would like to share?