Friday, July 28, 2006

Blink And You'll Miss This

Today was an uneventful day as I am stuck at the plantation until late tonight. I plan to stop at home long enough to shower away the filth of my job and step right back out the door to club. I am still debating on going to see DMX since I did have a crush on him when I was 16 but we will see. By the time I get off, it’ll be past the “free for ladies” time.

Am I wrong for making this bus driver who drives the route near my job straight eye candy? This man is gorgeous…for a light skinned guy. Of course goofy me almost tripped looking back at him. *sigh* I’m going to have to work on that. And he was looking at me too so you know I had that big stupid smile on my face. I usually just wave and walk on. I told you, no more “blatant” flirting for me.

But I mean if he happens to want my phone number who am I to refuse? Sh*t he has benefits! Sh*t can put some cash on my MetroTrip card.

I was a little piggy today. I ate three big pieces of catfish. Now I have the “Buddha Belly” going on.

I have to work tomorrow as well. Boo for me. But at least I can get drunk tonight and still get at least 6-7 hours of sleep. Because you know I plan on getting slizzard tonight. Sh*t my job causes me to drink sometimes.

My boyfriend is such a sweetheart. He gave me a well-needed full body massage. Now if only he could write like Honey’s friend Constant. Sh*t his letter to her made a sister’s nipples a little hard. Well harder than they usually are.

Credit cards are evil. Luckily, I have gotten out of my “Everything Equals An Emergency” Phase. I just pay it off in full every month and hide them around random places in the apartment. I usually forget where I place them. I found one this time tucked in my The DaVinci Code book.

I’m still mad about the movie.

Wow short post. This is so unlike me *LOL*

Have a great weekend everyone.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Random Questions....

**Blogger Really Sucks, Why Won't It Let Me Post Pictures!!!**

Random questions for the day as I look at the clock waiting for my day to end…Just to repeat the same damn routine tomorrow. I’m working all the way until Monday. How’s that for torture?

Why is DMX coming to town tomorrow? Should I be afraid as Soul Of A Man has finally confirmed my suspicion that DMX is indeed a crackhead. Lawd someone helps him before he morphs into a “Pookie” from New Jack City **I don’t care, Chris Rock still deserves an Oscar for portraying Pookie** or Tyrone Biggums.

Gwarsh where is Drag-On or Eve when you need them?

Point blank should I waste my cash on DMX? I hear he likes to curse out the audience. I ain’t paying sh*t to be ridiculed for not knowing the lyrics to “They Don’t Know”!

I wake up with a nice text exclaiming, “Girl guess who’s gay? LANCE!” so instantly I’m thinking of this dude name Lance that I went to school with who I always thought was a little too “fantabulous” for my taste so I wake up instantly and I call my girl.

She’s talking about f*cking Lance from N’Sync although I knew his ass was gay since day one. His eyes were a little too bug eyed to be straight.

But don’t get it twisted: Justin loves the muffin. I don’t give a damn about Lance but leave Justin outta this!

But why did his coming out warrants a press conference and magazine cover? Correct me if I’m wrong but don’t people come out the closet every day? Why is this so special? Sh*t call me when Tom Cruise comes out the closet or something.

Speaking of Tom, I think the man is crazy. Maybe a nervous breakdown or something? The man is just not right in the head right now. Someone from his camp please plan an intervention!

Why did I have to curse a b*tch out at McDonalds? I don’t give a f*ck how long you’ve been at work, what the f*ck does that have to do with you getting my f*cking McChicken sandwich?

Why did a crazy guy try to hit on me? Why did I feel bad for cursing him out but he touched me! You know that was a big NO NO! I’m on the train when of course someone feels the need to sit next to me on an almost empty car. He’s eyeing my legs, I’m eyeing him to make sure I won't have to cut him and he just burst out with “You’re so pretty, why don’t you let me take you to lunch?” I politely decline and stand up to move. This nut bag touches my knee and said, “Wow your skin is soft…like Peanut Butter.”

Why did I call him everything but a child of God? I hate for people to touch me **especially my face or hair** and dude was just crazy. He was just blinking real hard and sh*t and dusting imaginary sh*t off his shoulder.
Why did I snap on a guest today? This rude f*cker was on his cell phone just chatting away so since he purposely ignored me, I went ahead and helped someone else. This f*cker had the nerve to cop an attitude. So he dished it out, so I had to dish some back out at his ass. I don’t play that sh*t.

Working in a hotel is a f*cking pain. I deal with annoying f*ckers all day.

WTF is up with The View? I smell an ass whooping for those old ass hags. I guess racist remarks are what’s hot in the streets now. Is “creature” the new “White” term for “niggers”?

T. Cas you think you know who my blog crush is but I’ll have you know he is not on my daily blog lists nor do I comment on his page. I’m just a lurker. I do feel like a lame though, who has “crushes” anymore? He writes really well. Maybe I just have a crush on the words and not the actual person. Is that possible?

Should I get Justin’s new c.d.? Aw f*ck it, you know I’m copping it. The bandana over the face thing needs to go. Michael Jackson is not my ideal for a “stylish icon”.

Why do I have the sinking sensation my boyfriend is going to propose to me on the 18th of next month. He is really insistent on going on this dinner cruise around the Potomac knowing I don’t f*ck with lakes and rivers like that. Especially not the nasty ass Potomac. We’ll see yall. He is determined to have me down that aisle kicking and screaming. Can you imagine me as “Mrs.” Anything? Bare foot and pregnant? Yeah I shudder at the thought **shudders while slathering self down in cocoa butter**

FH is coming to Chicago before she is deployed to Iraq. Sh*t are they still fighting in Iraq? I told her getting knocked should be her priority because her black ass don’t need to be over there trying to fight and sh*t. But I know my girl. B*tch get captured and become a hostage, she is singing like Luther. Better yet b*tch is going to negotiate her ass out the situation, like “How ‘bout this…We blow up folks together. Now I ain’t strapping a bomb on me but how ‘bout if I toss one in the general direction of people…” Because you know the U.N. is not negotiating with terrorist…especially not over a Black person. You know how they’re quick to ignore one place for another. Sh*t I haven’t been keeping up with the news coverage because yours truly doesn’t give two sh*t about it. I lose interest after two minutes since everyone and their mama has to inject their personal opinions into it.

My opinion: yet another f*cking country where America needs to mind their own f*cking business. Can’t fight the “wars” in America but damn sure like to instigate every little thing that goes on overseas.

And people wonder why “Political Science” was not an option as a major.

Why does my phone keep freezing up? Damn Verizon! If I didn’t heart texting so much I would throw this phone against the wall.

Why am I losing my booty? I put on a pair on panties today and I kid you not the sh*t was kinda drooping in the back. Yall know I can’t have that. I can’t have an “ass-back”. Who knew all the fatty sh*t I was eating was keeping my junk in the trunk?

Does this guy really think I am going to sleep with him? Is he crazy?

But he does have a nice mouth. Pretty little PLL.

LIGHT BRIGHT asked me would I go on a trip with him to Hawaii? I’m all for going on an all expense paid trip but damn he is not my f*cking boyfriend! We’re cool as sh*t but are we cool enough to go on a trip together? I mean I will spring to have my own damn room but he makes me wonder sometimes. I’m probably going to say no **for the sake of the boyfriend** but you know my ass want to scream “HELL YEAH”! I have never been to Hawaii and I would like to go.

Why do I have a tan? My boyfriend pointed that out by the tan lines I have. I’m dark chocolate everywhere but the bikini zone where I am “milk” chocolate. It’s kinda freaky though. I’m tempted to sun bathe nude but of course I have a pervert who lives in the apartment across from me. He’s already seen the chocolate before for free. Next time he has to pay.

Why did my friend send me pictures of a stripper named “Hot Lightening”? Why am I in lust right now? But got damn I hope he uses a pump because a d*ck that size should be illegal in all 50 states and territories. Sh*t looks like it could easily touch a woman’s ovaries and f*ck some sh*t up. Do strippers really get ass? I mean with d*cks that’s borderline freakish, do strippers really get ass like that? I’m all for the pipe but not the f*cking water main pipe! Damn that “coochie is a muscle, it stretches” nonsense. Just because we can birth babies doesn’t mean that sh*t is a cake walk. Contractions anyone? From what I heard those are not for punks like myself.

But still “Hot Lightening” is on my phone screen saver.

Why did I groom attack cat **he was long overdue** and why did a wig-worth of fur come out with the comb? I’m taking my baby to the vet, maybe he’s sick. He’s a long hair tabby but still that was a lot of hair that was coming out. He wasn’t happy about being groomed but he sat and took it for 45 minutes before he finally got tired of me and ran under the bed. Next is bath time. Why the hell is this cat fascinated with water until its bath time? Damn cat is a pervert too. Always all up in the bathroom while you’re in the shower, pulling back the shower curtain to peek and watches you while you put lotion on. Sick Kitty I tell you.

Why is there a marathon of “A Different World” airing on TV Land? I loved that show. I seriously thought college was going to be like that. Damn was I fooled. I now realize I couldn’t live in their condition. Wait, maybe I did because our dorm rooms were small as hell. It didn’t help that I was a pack rat and had to pack up my whole damn room only to bring half the sh*t back for Thanksgiving break. And why the hell was my room the “guest room” and I had to camp out in the basement because my room was the “guest room” therefore “for guests”. Ain’t that a b*tch? Kicked out of my own damn room. Now the “guest room” is my niece’s room.

Why did that heifer that drowned her five kids get a “Not Guilty” verdict? Sure they declared the b*tch insane but that’s f*cked up. Post-partum my ass. People who kill their children need a needle in their arm. Point blank. F*ck that sh*t. Those babies were under the age of 7, they did not deserve to die. You know this b*tch will be out walking the streets, declared “cured” in less than 10 years.

I am so geeked, I think I have up graded to a 36B. *LOL* Hey I’m slowly getting into the C cup range. Why is it when I go to Victoria’s Secret the saleswomen snicker when I always ask for a bra in a 34B? Sh*t I can’t help I haven’t hit my “growth” spurt.

I am convinced there are steroids in the water, milk, chicken and beef. Have you seen teenagers nowadays? These little heifers look grown as f*ck! I’ll be damned if a 9 year old snickers at me because her chest is bigger than mine.

I was so bored at work I actually did some work. Except I hate coming out to the front desk because I’m always a second from snapping on someone. Why can’t people just come in, get their key and get the f*ck away from the desk? I am not the f*cking expert of every event, place, road, and Metro stop! Stop asking me sh*t because I honestly don’t know! DC/MD/VA is not a f*cking hick town so stop expecting me to know every single thing that is going on. That is not my job!

I could write a list of sh*t that irks the sh*t out of hotels but hey I’m lazy. Maybe one day just as a guide to get what you want the right way and not the way that will place you on the “List”. And you know what list I’m talking about.

Why am I so immature? Shouldn’t I grow the f*ck up already? I chuckled today because I heard a girl say “organism”. I know how middle school but I still got a good chuckle out of it. Yeah I was one of the “gigglers” who giggled at every “dirty” word or phrase the teacher uttered. Yeah, the principal’s office was my second home.

Sometimes I feel like I’m 35, other day 12.

This woman tripped in front of me today. Was it wrong to laugh my ass off?

Why is everyone geeked about tennis? Does it look like I’m going to be sweating in the hot ass sun to watch balls fly across the court?

Yes, less than an hour until it’s time for me to leave!

Yet I'm So Bored I'm Doing This...Weeks later

I am so bored, I am finally getting around to doing T.Cas music tag. Gawd I'm so bored at work, I am going crazy!!

Name your 10 most played bands on iTunes:
1 Pharrell
2 Justin Timberlake
3 Aaliyah
4 R. Kelly
5 Bun B
6 Clipse
7 Sean Paul
8 Red Rat
9 Missy
10 Eminem

Now answer the questions according to the numbers:

1. What was the first song you ever heard by 6? Grindin’

2. What is your favorite album of 2? Well duh his first album Justified. That cd is my sh*t. And T. Cas…watch you mouth talking about my husband. Just because his boy likes the sausage does not mean my husband has to jump on the train!

3. What is your favorite lyric that 5 has sung? For some reason I heart his song “Get Throwed” although Jeezy always sounds like he’s constipated or something, here’s the verse that cracks me the hell up every time I hear it:
Well I came in the door, I said it befo'
I never fuck a hoe without head no more
I never pull up in nuthin' less than a four
And I smoke cigars, it ain't just for the show
I'm blessed from the do', and known for my stidile
I send a nigga baby mamma home with a smidile
You can have the bitch nigga, I ain't sentimental
Smoke weed and freestyle over an instrumental
Been out, lived through the wicked streets of P.A.
Motherfuck the judge, prosecutor and the DA
Head to the H, where the hoes will fuck three way
Two way, four way, anyway the Pro say
Never hear a hoe say no I won't, no I can't
Stop it and no I don't
Cause a bitch know that I might just explode
And slap her in the face with a pie a la mode
Cause a nigga gettin throwed

4. How many times have you seen 4 live? As in concert? Once. But I’ve seen him twice in person. The man sure knows how to crank out a hit but the man is crazy!

5. What is your favorite song by 7? I heart all his songs. But “Get Busy” works my ass in a frenzy

6. What is a good memory you have involving the music of 10? I have only good memories of Eminem. Well “Fight Music” was my anthem for a long time.

7. Is there a song of 3 that makes you sad? “Rock The Boat” always makes me a little sad because she died shortly after making the video.

8. What is your favorite lyric that 2 has sung? Now you know I know Justin back and forth.

Chorus and bridge from “Like I Love You”
can't nobody love you like I love you
You're a good girl and that's what makes me trust ya
Late at night, I talk to you
You will know the difference when I touch you

Yeah, you know I can make ya happy
I could change your life
If you give me that chance
To be your man
I won't let you down baby
If you give me that chance
To be your man
Here baby, put on my jacket
And then ...

9. How did you get into 3? Early 90s with “Age Ain’t Nothing But A Number”. That was my cut! So of course like any pre-teen I had to emulate her style. Big baggy overalls, shades **well I wore glasses so I was constantly walking into things trying to wear sunglasses**, and little bandanas on my head.

10. What was the first song you heard by 1? Well the first song I’ve actually heard him was “Lap Dance” **And you can get this lap dance here for free** and Frontin’, which was another one of my cuts.

11. What is your favorite song by 4? Too many to choose from, but “It Seems Like You’re Ready” always makes me think of Diamond’s strip tease from “Playa’s Club”

12. How many times have you seen 9 live? Never

13. What is a good memory you have involving 2? It’s not a good memory but I remember the boyfriend and I got into it over something stupid and tell me why to be spiteful this nigga broke my damn c.d.? I come back from dinner and ah la “horror movie” I discovered my beloved c.d. crumpled with rose bud heads in an arch over the c.d. To say I was pissed is an undetstatement. I didn’t talk to him for a week. In the end I got a new c.d. and roses.

14. Is there a song of 8 that makes you sad? Umm jeah like you can understand ½ the lyrics of reggae.
15. What is your favorite album of 5? I don’t have a favorite.

16. What is your favorite lyric that 3 has sung? “If Your Girl Only Knew”
If your girl only knew That you was trying to get with me
If your girl only knew That you was dissin' her to talk to me

17. What is your favorite song of 1? "Young Girl” featuring Jay Z

18. What is your favorite song of 10? Hell every song from the 1st 3 albums

19. How many times have you seen 8 live? None

20. What is your favorite album of 1? Well I didn’t really listen to the first but his new album sounds pretty tight

21. What is a great memory you have considering 9? Let’s see when my girls and I did a drunken serenade of “One Minute Man”, “re creating” the “Pass The Dutch” video, and blasting “Lick Shots” until my head ached

22. What was the first song you heard by 8? “Tight Up Skirt” thanks to my jamaican best friend. That is my sh*t!!

23. What is your favorite cover by 2? “Nothing Else”…wasn’t that kinda a cover of a Stevie Wonder song? Forgive me the song slips me….

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Post Number 100

Today was another uneventful day. As this is my 100th post *yea for me* I was going to do “100 Facts About Me” which I see on virtually everyone’s blog for entry number 100 but what had happened was…

I think I tapped out after number 56 or something so I just scratched that. Besides I think I’ll save that for another time or something.

I was watching Sex And The City the other day and it was the episode when Carrie was still with Mr. Big and Natasha **his wife** caught her in their house. That show was my sh*t I was mad when it went off the air. I mean where else besides any random college campus and the Adams Morgan area can I witness slutty White women at their best? But what tripped me out was when Samantha **uber slut** went in for an HIV test and fainted. I kid you not. The same exact sh*t happened to me. Now that I think about it, I think my friend saw the episode before I did and told me the same sh*t that was told to Samantha.

You know, the four finger motion to “Come With Me” as well as being led to the little room in the back to be told the bad news.

In college, I went for HIV testing every three months because hey you can never be too safe. Not to mention that I think I have hypochondriac tendencies as every little sniffle warrants a visit to the doctor’s office. Thank goodness I have an excellent benefits package. Now the first time I went, I was nervous to the say the least. While it’s not like my legs was like 7/11 or hella dudes have slide up in my raw dogging it, it’s something about going for STD testing that makes me a little nervous and it’s not like the damn nurse was any better at relieving my tension. The way she talked, I could get AIDS from a toilet seat or something even though I don’t sit on the toilets **hell I try to avoid using a public washroom** in any public restroom. That’s just nasty as hell.

So she takes a blood sample **I swear she busted out a beaker and sh*t** and tells me to come back in a week for my results. I didn’t have anything to hide so I opted to not take it as an “anonymous” person.

All week…A B*tch is sweating bullets. I’m having nightmares, going crazy with millions of “What If” scenarios, and I already had the suicide note ready because after I went on my killing spree I was not going to stick around to go to jail. Once again: I am too pretty for jail. My friends are trying to comfort me but of course had a f*cked up way of doing it. Just not helping at all, in fact, confirming my fears and sh*t. My room mate ICEE had taken one a few weeks prior so of course she was the “expert” in HIV Testing. B*tch take one Human Sexuality class and this heifer is Dr. Ruth but whatever. So she told me of course the now infamous lines from Sex And The City.

The day came and I was sweating harder than a whore in church *LOL my grandmother says this all the time, I just wanted an excuse to say it* and I drag ICEE with me to the clinic aka McKillMe as it is commonly called on campus. So I’m literally shaking and yall I don’t get shook real easily but a b*tch is super nervous. The nurse called my name. I stood up. She motioned to me with the four fingers. I stopped. She was walking down the hall and paused in front of “the door”. “The Door” that is rumored to be the room where bad news in delivered. I took a step and passed the f*ck out.

I came to with about 10 people in my face and ICEE putting on the “ghetto funeral” performance. That isn’t the first time I have fainted but it damn sure was the funniest. Turns out the nurse was just stopping to talk to a fellow colleague,

And my test was negative as were the next two. The nurses ribbed me about this until I graduated. I took one step and just hit the f*cking ground.

Take that Samantha! Although hers was funny as sh*t too.

In case folks are not aware, Tenacious is a walking death trap. I trip and fall damn near everyday. How do you trip on air? I swear I’ll be walking and just stumble. And let’s not mention how many times I have walked into some sh*t. I’ve taken down small children when I’m on a roll. Of course, it always warrants a good laugh out of me because if you can’t laugh at yourself…Well you need to stop being so uptight.

And don’t let someone fine cross my path, I’ve tripped and fallen around enough cute men to pump their head up for years. I walked into the door eyeing this cute Puerto Rican guy that was leaving my job the other day. I smacked that door kinda hard too but he was fine as hell. See I’m a sucker for a pretty face.

I’m surprised I have no scars on my legs and face as many times as I have tumbled off the curb, bed…pole *LOL just kidding*. I fell off of our bunk bed so many times in college, we had to debunk the bed. I’ve fallen down the stairs quite a few times, once trying to save a slice of pizza. Hey I will make that sacrifice for some food. *lol*

I can’t help it, I am a natural klutz.

I know that’s bad to admit to people but its true.

But why am I admitting this? Why it’s my 100th post, of course. Why not have yet another random post about absolutely nothing.

I’m proud to say I have lost my “baby bump”. While I am not working with the six packs just yet, I don’t have any more kids running up touching my damn stomach asking me when my baby is due. Working out actually pays off. It doesn’t help there are some cute guys who works out at my gym *lol* Hey I need some motivation you know.

I was told today I look like I can’t suck d*ck.

Wow. Right.
Apparently this was confirmed by quite a few guys. I just have that “I Half Ass Suck D*ck” look about me.

No worries. Hell I rather have that look than the “She Can Suck The Meat Off A Nigga’s Sh*t” Look. Besides if you suck d*ck too good, don’t guys start to wonder just how many d*cks have been in your mouth? Just putting that out that for the fellas.

Conversation was so damn funny I had to call FH to join in on the fun. Because this was just one conversation that I could not walk away from.

Do people really have a “look” about them that confirms whether or not they will be good in bed?

Granted I have the look of “Good in Bed” **when I’m not suffering from narcolepsy that is** but not the look of “Good Head”. Trust that is one title that I am not vying for. I was not about to start hollering, “Nigga f*ck you. I suck a damn good d*ck!” B*tch was as quiet as a church mouse in that b*tch.

But I do admit I will look at a guy and debate on whether he is “do-able” or not. I swear there are some men who looks like they can eat the sh*t out of the muffin. But there are some guys, I guess, who has the “Look” I guess. That nigga who just looks like he’s going to be a waste of vaginal fluids and hard nipples. Usually that’s the nigga who has to run his mouth about how “tight” his “d*ck game” is. And we all know how those usually turn out.

This conversation was hilarious as sh*t. I know I was laughing the whole conversation. I wasn’t offended, of course. I think I have a high tolerance for offense because there is little out there that will truly offend me. I told yall, I have a f*cked up sense of humor. I laugh at everything. And often during inappropriate times.

That sh*t has gotten me in trouble quite a few times growing up. And many of dirty looks.

I can’t help it though. I try not to laugh at everything but I can’t stop. My boyfriend gets really angry when we have an argument and I just start laughing during it. Does that mean I am going crazy? Isn’t that the first sign? Or am I just really immature?

Stinky Girl at work had to the nerve to give me the “Evil Eye” today. B*tch I don’t care, you still stink. But she wasn’t as smelly as she have been. I didn’t smell her before I saw her. But still…Take about 10 steps back from me. You will not have folks looking at me like I’m the stinky one. Why the Black people always have to be the smelly one? Someone passes gas and who do they look at automatically? The Black person in the room.

OK sometimes it do be us but damn we try to get away from the damn smell. We don’t just stand there. We fart and move. *LOL*

Why did a White man hit on me in the elevator? I went downstairs to get the mail and he just starts flirting with me. Since when is Black girls hot with middle aged White men? Did I miss the memo or something? I was like I am not about to become another “Beautiful Black Creature”. No damn Jungle Bunny here. While deeply amused, as you know I started laughing, I have to pass. He did not look like Justin’s doppelganger. More like John Travolta’s. And that’s a…NO!

White men must be waking up because they actually are in the “Black” clubs and sh*t now and I don’t mean the “ghetto” White “Paul Wall” types. I mean the Abercrombie & Fitch, Sam Adams drinking, busted gym shoe wearing, cornbread fed White boy. And they are coming after the sisters! I am too blown. Let me find out Timmy want a little bit of coffee with that cream. He can be my “Sugar Daddy”. You know White Folks don’t know what to do with their money. Hell damn those $60 polos that looked like you found them in the basement of an abandoned building, sh*t Mama will direct your credit card to the right stores. Hell pay my damn student loans off. Finance Graduate School or something.

I have to buy ATL on DVD…How else could I think about T.I.? He can still hit…pending that HIV Test. And no kisses in the mouth. That scar is not sexy. The movie was cute so why not?

Why can’t I still find my Finding Nemo DVD? I’m going to cut someone if it doesn’t turn up. I stood in line 2 hours at the Disney Store to buy that sh*t when it first came out. Why was I the oldest person **without a child** in line? I don’t give a sh*t, Finding Nemo is the sh*t.

Why is Season 3 of Dave Chappelle sold the f*ck out at the f*cking Best Buy and Circuit City by my apartment. You know I’m pissed. So what I stole the first two seasons from friends. Hey they had two weeks to ask for the sh*t back. Now it’s property of Tenacious.

I think I have a blog crush. I know, kinda lame. But I go his page everyday. *LOL* Damn is that blog stalking? And no, T it is not you. You’re “committed” *LOL* Besides I would just tell you.

Hey the boyfriend didn’t say anything about internet flirting *LOL*

I can’t believe my ass has reached 100 posting already. Damn I write too damn much! Thanks to everyone who stops by daily. Yall make a sista’s day!

Sunday, July 23, 2006

Weekend In Detroit...

Is "ugly" the new "fighting word"?

Case in point Friday as I frantically packed for my trip to Detroit since yours truly is a last minute packer. I never know what to bring and usually I end up overpack since I like to pack for the weather and I have the bad habit of packing every single shoe, purse, and accessory that go with an outfit. As much as I try to limit what I pack, I always come home with at least half unworn plus what ever I tend to buy while there. I can't walk away from a good sale you know. It's kinda dumb in the summer since every where I go it’s hot as f*ck out but why am I packing three pairs of jeans like a cold snap is going to roll through or something? But it pays to be prepared. When I went to Vegas I was happy to have those jeans because it can get a little chilly at night.

So I’m on some weird type of party line as the "Crew" was all on the line and of course we're all out talking one another. I was being ribbed about going to the boyfriend's family reunion and how I’m one step closer to the alter and make sure I leave the street walker attire at home and please don’t flirt with the cousins because his second cousin twice removed does count and drink water because I’m a closet alkie. They also told me to get a good look at all the children because one of those hidden genes could pop out and I could end up with the "ugly" child at the reunions. Mess around and some sh*t from back in the day will pop up on the baby and scare the hell out of me in the delivery room. My damn daughter will get the Big Breasts and "Good" Hair that obviously skipped my ass. But they gave me a run down of the "Extended Family" rules and I should basically behave myself and play the role.

*BTW the “Crew” consists of TWIN, FH, G, me, and another one of our friends whom I don’t really talk about because he’s always M.I.A. but his new alias is FOOL because this Negro is a natural born one. He does not care what comes out of his mouth.**

So I’m deciding whether this sun dress was too slutty to pack *which it was so I scratched it from the list, can’t have the B’s spilling out the front of the sundress while I’m bending over to get a hot dog or something* when somehow we got we on the subject of...ugly people. Mainly due to FOOL's encounter at a club in Boston.

**Yeah when we get together we talk about dumb sh*t sometimes but our conversations are always funny as hell**

Technically G was excluded from the conversation mid0way as he have never and I mean never went out with someone ugly **then again maybe he did and he was real good on keeping it on the low** but he could relate on ugly people approaching him up in the club. And you know the ugly boyfriend/girlfriend I’m talking about. The one that you would deny to the death that you went to, that person is in that “He/She Don’t Count” drawer. The one that wasn’t allowed around the friends because you know you were going to be clowned. Talking about, “Um yeah baby the reason I don’t bring you around my friends is because, um, yeah, they gone try to holler at you. You know they trifling like that…I just want to keep you to myself for a little while...”

LOL…Or it that just me?

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again Ugly People are taking over.

Now I’m cute. It might be others **and f*ck yall hater lol** who disagree but dammit I’m cute. Notice I didn’t say “fine” because I know I’m not fine because you have to work too damn hard to be “fine”. Fine means you always have to be on your P’s and Q’s. Fine means if folks always have to see you dressed to the “T”. You have to stay with your hair laid to the side makeup flawless gear tight otherwise...

But when you’re cute you’re allowed to slide. You can go out without makeup and people won’t do a double take. You can shop with sweats on. Its just not that much work involved to be cute. It’s that natural beauty. Not to call people who are fine as “artificial” or anything. Of course you can be fine and low maintenance and cute and high maintenance but fellas I know yall have came across a female that fine as sh*t and you see her the next day running errands without the makeup and you’re like, “Got damn! Was that the same female from last night?! Girl go put your face on!”

Besides there’s certain standards to be considered fine as hell. When I’m dressed down I’m cute. When the hair is flawless, the outfit is right and the makeup is tight I’m cute plus 2. Although I’d like to add that I don’t wear a lot of makeup, I mainly wear eye shadow and lip gloss. My skin is clear enough that I don’t need to slap foundation on plus I can never find any that’s my shade although the Maybelline Dream Matte Mousse in Cocoa is really good and actually matches my skin tone. Is it really that hard to create shades for dark skin? I mean really stop with the generic dark-skinned colors! Everyone is not a biracial mix. Everyone is not toffee or that heavily creamed coffee shade they try to pass off as Number 3. Face looking chalky as hell and shit. But I don’t like foundation anyway, it tends to get everywhere and I never wash it off when I get home. Wake up pillows all brown and sh*t. Lol my bad went off on a tangent but anyway makeup might boost up the cuteness but I still get the “You cute as sh*t” line.

I’m just saying people know your limitations.

But an ugly person? Shit you can’t tell them sh*t. They know they fine as hell. Even folks like me who clown people who I deem as less attractive can’t faze them.

Until you call them on their uglyness.

Then those are “fighting words”.

Nothing will have an ugly person in your face ready to brawl than the infamous words sprouted by my crew:

B*tch/Nigga **which ever it applies to**...Youse ugly as sh*t!

Instantly the sloping forehead creases, the eyebrows are drawn together, lips curl, and fists are balled up.

”Who you calling ugly? Ima show you how ugly I am...”

And you’re drawn into a battle of Beauty versus The Beast.

Nothing will incite an ugly person more than being called out. Call them a b*tch. Say their mama is turking something for some change. Call them homosexual and imply that they do nasty sexual things with the same sex. Nothing. You’d get a yawn and a middle finger. But call them ugly? Oh hell to the naw. It’s a wrap.

Of course FOOL had brought this to our attention through an encounter at the club. Bold as they are, an ugly girl approached him the club. He said she looked like someone beat her with the ugly stick three times, left and came back hit her with the stick once more for being that damn ugly. FOOL claimed he tried to be polite and brush her off but no this chick was persistent as hell. She was just going to bo-guard the number out of him. So she asked how come he was being difficult, it’s not like he’s ”fine or anything”. Oh no she’s didn’t. So FOOL had to utter the infamous words. And it was on and popping. She threw her drink on his ass and he was going to pop her ass since “she looked like a damn man…an ugly man…at that” **his words** but he was ejected from the club.

See what I mean, "ugly" is a fighting word.

So we had an interesting discussion on ugly people. Would you go out with a person who is ugly as hell but dresses nice and keep themselves up? Like in that way where a person is ugly but something about them is cute, I guess? That “but…” factor or “Juvenile” factor as I like to call it. I mean even that comes with limitations because without it, then they go back to “ugly” status.

And what is it about the word “ugly” that have people putting the dukes up?

We must have clowned on the phone for close to two hours about this subject. Of course I had long abandoned packing by then because I was too busy laughing my ass off. My friends are crazy like that.

Now G was silent for a minute as he couldn’t relate to the “Ugly” significant other thing. His boyfriends have never been ugly. At all. Once again, I tried to bring them back from the dark side to no avail. They are content being cute and gay. We were joking like, “Where the hell did you find them and could they bring some heterosexual men for us ladies the next time they come back from where they’re from?” but alas he is one of the lucky ones. To my “ugly” boyfriend’s defense **I only had one** he had a really nice personality. He was a real sweetheart. Of course my friends didn’t know about him until we ran into them at the show **Late ass show what the f*ck was they doing out at that time anyway?** and while they were super “polite” *Hell I know the fake cheesing well…I invented the sh*t** they clowned my ass the minute I got home. Clowned me so hard. BUT he dressed raw as sh*t. They may have roasted on his face but they could not deny the gear. In fact he wasn’t really ugly, he just needed to wear a fitted cap at all times. He just didn’t have the head shape to be wandering around without a hat. I called it the “Juvenile” effect. I thought Juvenile was kind of cute…Until I saw him without a hat. Then he looked crack head-ish. And I won’t even mention the circa 1992 box haircut with the little line on the side. But with a hat, he got a 6.5, without it -2. So even since then, the “but” factor for me has been dubbed the “Juvenile” effect.

But everyone has had that “Ugly Person Approaches You In The Club” moment so we dwelled on that. Actually I’m nice in the club until you get too touchy feelie. I don’t mind dancing with someone who is not cute just as long as he keeps his hands to himself. I know some women who won’t dance with a man if he is not attractive but nine times out of ten the cute ones are either suffering from the “Dance Floor Kryptonite” or is “Too Pretty or Thuggish” to dance. They rather post up on the wall, styling and profiling than dance. And the “Thuggish” ones tend to think slamming your ass against their big dumb ass belt buckle is sexy or constitutes as dancing. Be having brands on your ass from niggas who thinks committing damn near sexual assault is “dancing”. So it’s usually the other guys who tend to dance. Of course these are the types who become the “Club Boyfriend” as well. And we all know how I feel about those types. Don’t make me enforce the “Club Rules” on your ass.

Of course G is blunt with the ladies, TWIN is “Eww nigga you smell like French Fries!” nasty, and FH and I are more like, “We can dance…Just as long as you don’t step into the light” folks. FOOL, well he’s the “Too Pretty” type. He comes to be seen and not to dance. Ol’ lazy ass can’t dance anyway. Of course we create a situation when we have to exclaim the “fighting words” to a person who just does not “get it”. Real persistent, obnoxious, just being forceful as well. Like we should be honored or something. Yeah right. Nigga I can’t take you home…In the day time. Maybe after midnight and you have to be gone before dawn. You’re the “Vampire Creep”.

Before we got too deep in the subject, I got off the phone. I still needed to pack and I still needed to catch some shut eye. Made it to the airport, flight was smooth to Detroit. No angry flight attendants, I didn’t have to bust a forehead open this time. We lounged around the hotel for a little bit and then hit the festivities.

And I was on my best behavior. I wore a demure little outfit. I think I was a hit, I’m glad I read up on my current events. And the food was not catered this year?! A family member cooked all the food. I wasn’t feeling the baked beans **too sweet** but the food was good. I didn’t eat the potato salad. I hate potato salad and the few times I have shoveled that mess down my throat **Who the hell decided potatoes and mayo mixed together was a good dish?** it was my grandmother’s. You know you can’t be eating just anyone’s food. You be peeling back the aluminum foil like, “Who cooked this?” and either put it back **I don’t f*ck with [insert non cooking family’s member name] cooking** or you pile your plate up before everyone gets to that portion of the table.

I think someone got insulted by that but oh well. I don’t put on my plate what I don’t plan on eating. My mother taught my brother and me to not waste food. We’re like “Mommie Dearest” in that bad boy **That movie is the sh*t, you can’t tell me nothing about Mommie Dearest**, she made us sit at the table until we finished it. She’ll just keep warming it up until we finished our plate. Oh you didn’t finish that? Oh it’s cool, you can have it for breakfast. I would just slip the sh*t in my pocket and flush it down the toilet later. Or feed it to the cat. I thought my mother was the only one **aside from the uncooked meat, that sh*t was nasty as f*ck, you know I like my sh*t burnt** who did that until I saw that movie.

Saturday was the picnic and although it was hot as hell, I had a nice time. The kids love me. One little girl became my favorite after she told me I was “so pretty” and I looked like a “Barbie Doll”. She stayed glue to my side so much people thought she was mine. Hey I’m a sucker for compliments. My boyfriend’s nephews are the cutest little boys in the world. They are so smart and just good kids **You know I’m not used to good kids, all the little bad rug rats I have in my family**. They don’t make them like they used to. These kids were respectful of adults, well-behaved, spoke real English not that kiddie babble that just have you nodding your head like “Un huh sweetie”, and had manners.


I was thrown off for a second. I didn’t have to say, “Because I said so” after every sentence? No screaming, “Get yall bad asses away from the street”! No quick spankings in the bathroom? Ok well my nephew technically is not bad, he’s just hyper. That boy is a bundle of energy. Sometimes I just want to dope him up with some ‘Tussin or something.

So we have some more pictures to add to our “Wall of Kids”.

And why did his cousin’s date try to hit on me? He was cute though…But no Tenacious left his ass alone. We were watching our significant others’ play volley ball. I was kicked off the court due to my lack of athletic abilities. Oh and I ducked every time the ball came my way. They were joking that my ass was like Daria from the MTV show, Daria. Tell me why that show was my sh*t and I was so mad that MTV canceled it. I watch it on the N Network or whatever that sh*t is called. The network that plays DeGrassi or whatever that show is called. My nickname in High School was actually Daria. Only I wasn’t white, no black glasses **contacts at 15**, or depressed. But they were like I was Daria in that the ball would fly by me **when I wasn’t ducking, sh*t I was too pretty to fall in the damn sand!** and I would just stick one arm out *lol*. Hey I wasn’t trying to break a nail either!

So I was booted from the game. So I was on the sidelines with him. He had really nice green eyes. Of course I asked were they real. Nice even white teeth. He was light skinned but I could work around that *lol* We made small talk until we bonded over our love for House, Nip/Tuck, Monk, and L&O *all three BUT SVU is the best* and wasn’t it funny **now that I have gotten back to watching re-runs of OZ on HBO, hell I might as well take advantage of it while it’s free** how most of the criminals on OZ ended up playing cops on the L&O shows? He was really into me even though he kept touching my hair which of course is a BIG NO NO. Do not touch my damn hair! Had to swat his hand a few times. Who knows where that hand has been? But he did go get me another plate of food, some fruit salad, cake and something to drink. LOL, hell I was hungry again sitting out in the damn sun. And he kept telling me how "cute" I was.

Alas I left him alone. No flirting at the family reunion, especially with one of the cousin’s dates.

I was nosy though. It’s not like they went together or anything…He was just a “date”. But then again you just don’t bring a “date” to meet your damn family at the family reunion, at least not I *said the Cat*. But he hasn’t received “confirmation” of their status. He would like to be her man but she hasn’t asked him yet. He broke down the situation to me and I just gave him my personal feedback while trying not to stare at his damn mouth. Did I mention he had nice ass lips?

Hey I told you I was nosy as hell. Besides I had to know the “status” to file away in my “To Be Used Later” drawer.

After the picnic, we went to the mall where I had to force myself to not buy some shoes. Hung out at his brother’s house for a little while **He lives in Detriot** and we went back to the room. Woke up late and had to rush to make our flight on time.

Of course we were late pushing out and once we got in the air, the kids on the airplane **and it was hella kids on the f*cking flight** decided to show their natural white asses on the plane. Just screaming, yelling, throwing sh*t, temper tantrums, hitting folks…just being bad ass demon children. Had to snap at a lady because I told her if her son kicked the back of my seat one mo’ ‘gin it was going to be a case of Child Abuse up on the plane. Talking about she’s raising her children to be “independent” and she doesn’t use “discipline” as a way to “control” them.

I was going to assert my independence and whoop some ass up in the plane.

Had the nerve to tell me if I had children then I would sympathize with her. Shocking for her to say since most white women assume my black ass have several little nappy head crumb snatchers anyway. Of course this brought on a discussion on the plane because a few women overheard her and sliced her ass up. AND only one woman who spoke up was Black. You know Black mamas will beat the brakes off a kid. They gave their kids the “I wish your ass would clown on this damn plane” LOOK when the white children started acting up.

I told her I sympathized with the belt. You see your child doing this yet you’re doing nothing but I’d be wrong if I reached back and smacked the sh*t out the little brat. You can teach your child to be independent *what ever the hell that means* but also train your children to be well-behaved in public because everyone is not going to put up with them. Especially not me since your brat is interrupting my damn sleep time!

That little boy looked at me. I looked at him. He sat the f*ck back and didn’t say sh*t the whole flight. Tenacious don’t play that. I am a proud member of the “I Beats Asses” Club. If I can’t spank them, they can’t come over. Damn a “time out”. Kids nowadays need a “Knock You The F*ck Out”. Little grown ass kids.

I wish I could say the same about the little girl who shrieked for the last 20 minutes of the flight. I wanted to open the escape doors and toss her and her parents out of it.

I was so damn glad to get off the plane. I damn near knocked folks over to get the f*ck off. Came back to the comforts of my own house and just relaxed. Caught up on some blog reading and cleaned up. Attack cat has taken to spreading his litter all over the floor.

What did everyone do this weekend?

**I just looked, wow this is my 99th post!**

Thursday, July 20, 2006

I'm So Bored At Work, I'm Doing Tags....

**Blogger is an ass by the way**

I'm bored at work and
  • Robert Mack
  • had these on his page so I decided to do these for lack of anything else to do...Enjoy!

    TAG #1

    Two Names You Go By:
    1. My Real Name
    2. F*ck You Then B*tch **Since That seems to be my name as well”

    Two Things You Are Wearing Right Now:
    1. A matching set of undies **The cat dragged my $42 bra under the bed, damn cat*
    2. My Via Spiega loafers

    Two Things You Would Want in a Relationship:
    1. Love
    2. Happiness

    Two Things You Want Really Badly At This Moment:
    1. Some White Castles
    2. Money

    Two of Your Favorite Hobbies:
    1. Does sleeping count?
    2. reading

    Two pets you have had:
    1. Phoenix the attack cat
    2. Funky Chunk the Sophisticated Kitty

    Two people who will fill this out:
    1. T. Cas better fill this out as many tags that I do...
    2. Honey’s always good for these….

    Two things you did last night
    1. Worked
    2. Watched TV

    Two Favorite Places to eat:
    1. Lone Star
    2. Chili's

    Two things you ate today:
    1. Rice Krispies
    2. Buttered Popcorn

    Two people you Last Talked To:
    1. FH
    2. G

    TAG #2

    Now & Then

    Ten years ago today, it was July 20, 1996.

    I was 13. I was in a summer sports camp *what a big joke that was*. I was ejected from camp after four weeks. I was about to start the 8th grade. LOL I told you I was young.

    1) How old were you?
    THEN: 13
    NOW: 23

    2) Where did you work?
    THEN: I was still under the thumb of “Head Massa”: My moms.
    NOW: Major hotel chain.

    3) Where did you live?
    THEN: Chicago, Illinois “Wild Wild”
    NOW: Arlington, VA **right outside of DC for folks unfamilar with the area**

    4) How was your hairstyle?
    THEN: Side pony tails with the bang swoop, fingerwaves with the littl “bump” on the top, and french braids
    NOW: Chic bobs, straw curls, “China” bangs….Whatever I feel like getting done that week.

    5) Did you wear contacts?
    THEN: Nope, Glasses were so thick if I looked at a map I could see people waving
    NOW: I am so vain, I refuse to wear glasses. Did you not just read the above sentence?

    6) Did you wear glasses?
    THEN: Yes, nice bifocals
    NOW: My contact lens are my savior/

    8) Which of your pets were still alive?
    THEN: I don’t Phoenix and Funky Chunk were born yet but our crazy cat Elmira was around.
    NOW: Funky Chunk was given away when I started college and Phoenix is just bad.

    9) Who was your boyfriend/girlfriend?
    THEN: None. My mama wasn’t on that. No summer loves. Well I did have a crush on my ex before he was an ex.
    NOW: My sweetie of four years.

    10) Who was your celebrity crush?

    THEN: Back then it was Penny Hardaway, BJ Armstrong, Morris Chestnut, the twins from H-Town, Mr. Devante **shudder now**, and the boys from Mista *esp Vovvy Valentino*, Immature, and A+
    NOW: Morris is still around, Hill Harper, Isiah Washington, Justin, Eminem, Brad Pitt, Reggie Bush, Darren *forgot his last name but he plays football*, The Rock…, the sexy chocolate guy from "The Wood", Omar Epps...Hell I have a crush on damn near everyone.

    11) How many piercings did you have?
    THEN: my ears.
    NOW: My navel is still pierced but before that I had my tongue and nipples pierced.

    12) How many tattoos did you have?
    THEN: None
    NOW: One. I’m so lame, it’s my name on my back. But I want one more.

    13) What was your favorite band/singer?
    THEN: probably Jodeci, my favorite singer was Monica
    NOW: I wore the sh*t out of my Justified c.d., I don’t have a favorite anymore really, I listen to what ever sounds good. It’s not like I buy cds, I am an illegal downloader.

    14) Had you smoked a cigarette?
    THEN: No
    NOW: Not cigarettes but I partake in the illegal every once and a blue moon…

    15) Had you gotten drunk?
    THEN: Nope, I didn’t get my first sip until 15.
    NOW: Boy have I?!

    16) What kind of car did you drive?
    THEN: In the backseat of my mama’s ride and the CTA
    NOW: I whip the boyfriend’s Camry. I want an Acura by X-Mas

    17) Looking back, are you where you thought you would be in 2006?
    Naw. I thought I would be a doctor by now *LOL* Umm yeah I changed my major my first semester in college. I am not comfortable where I am at, I could be doing better but I’m still on my hiatus from school. I plan on being back in school by january.

    Why Ask Why....

    The past few days have been a day of “whys”.

    Some good and some bad. I'm trying to be more optimistic. T's post has me thinking that I am the dreaded "complainer". Do I complain too much?

    Why did I finally post the last of my saga? Good cleansing for me, wincing for yall. Hey you know I write chapters on my blog although HONEY you’re coming in a close second for long posts. Read if when you’re bored and have nothing else to do.

    Why am I mad that it is so hot outside? I’m all for the summertime and I gripe every summer about the heat but got damn it’s hot.

    I’ve already slapped one, but I will slap the next person *after that* if they ask me any variation of “Boy it’s hot out here? Are you hot?” Naw muthaf*cking, I’m sweating because I’m cold. Naw better yet I’m going through withdrawal. I’m on that “Slap A Dumb Person Drug” and I haven’t “scored” in a week? You want to be my dealer?

    **Ok technically I slapped a nigga because he grabbed my ass. Nigga I don’t give a flying f*ck if you just got out of jail. I’m sure besides classes on how to not drop the soap, jail taught you some etiquette. I smacked his ass without even thinking about it. I was hot as hell, I had just dropped my damn pop as soon as I got it, had to argue with the Korean behind the counter on why I should get another, and this dude cupped a whole cheek when I walked out the store. So I was mad. He knows now not to be touching on strange ladies’ booties. I’M FROM THE CHI B*TCH!”**

    Why was I only in the salon for three hours this time? Usually I’m in the salon like it’s a damn job, I should be sweeping up hair and sh*t as long as my hair tends to take. I was in by two, out by five. I was shocked. Maybe because it wasn’t that busy or something. Thank gawd for AC because if I would have walked in there and seen fans, I was walking right the f*ck back out. I’ve been a victim of the “Fan” for years, just make ya ass hot as hell and you know someone is going to turn the fan just on them leaving the rest of us to sweat it out. So I’m rocking the fresh curls just in time for Detroit.

    Why am I going to my boyfriend’s family reunion in Detroit? *sigh* I will be under the thumb of “bougie” for the weekend. Let me start correcting my English now and act like I have a degree in something. And let me put away the short skirts and bust out my “conservative” wear, meaning my skirts are at least “finger tips”. *LOL* Did anyone’s High School make them do the “finger tips” test? Mine did *I don’t know why, half the damn school was pregnant anyway what the hell is a short skirt preventing?* and if you “failed” you had to wear your gym shorts all day. I failed every day. I just started wearing my gym shorts to school.

    But I love the city of Detroit. I just hope I don’t get shot the f*ck up while I’m there. Besides one of my favorite bros live there. He promised to take us out for a good time.

    Why do I think this brother is gay as all outdoors? He needs to just come out the damn closet and be done with it. His walk is better than me and he has a “manufactured” lisp.

    You know what that means…

    But I still heart him anyway.

    Why was I in the mall, spending money that I don’t have of course, and I fell in lust with the BCBG heels? I don’t have sh*t to go with them but I want them so bad I can taste it. I was dropping hints like a muthaf*cking, oh hell I just said “I want these”.

    “We’ll see”.

    That means they will be on my feet by next week. The boyfriend spoils me. Now if only he’ll stop stalling and find my Black Jordans. They don’t have them in my damn size.

    Why did I stop in Express to buy my boyfriend some jeans? Don’t worry they are not tight as sh*t. I can’t have his balls all protruding through the fabric. Only ladies should be rocking tight jeans. If I can wear a pair of your jeans, umm yeah it’s time to upgrade.

    Express has so many gay men working there its ridiculous. Is that like a prerequisite to work there or something? I remember in high school, I filled out an application and was never called back. But G? That nigga worked there for two years. I had good discounts though. Then he f*cked it up for us by getting fired for sleeping with a co-worker.


    Why did I go to work and this white girl really thought she was about to put her fingers in my hair? No seriously she had the am up and everything. I forgot I’m at a new property and I haven’t read the White Girls yet but…DON’T TOUCH MY F*CKING HAIR!

    Had to lay the smack down. I was like, “What the f*ck you doing?” She stammering and stuttering and sh*t, “I was just admiring your hair…It’s so pretty and curly”. I snapped, “Well admire it from a distance. Do NOT touch my hair. Black women find offense when people play in our hair. I don’t have that wash and go sh*t. I got that $65 plus a tip sh*t. You can look but don’t touch.”

    That is a pet peeve of mine. Stay the hell out of my hair! I hate for people to touch my hair, especially White People. Most of them bastards don’t wash their hands after using the bathroom and you think you’re going to run your fingers through my hair? Besides I don’t do the sh*t to you, don’t do it to me. That is so f*cking rude and disrespectful.

    Little sh*t like that confirms to me that racism is very alive and thriving.

    Touching me like I’m a damn animal or some sh*t. And damn if you were going to touch it, at least do it in the direction of the hair! Black people would touch and pat down. White people tousle your sh*t won’t they? Have you with a damn cowlick and sh*t.

    But why was I looking too cute to work? B*tch was checking every shiny surface. It doesn’t help that the Fed-Ex man is kinda cute. What screws it up for him is this monstrous gap in this teeth. Looks like he has two front teeth missing and sh*t. He was cute until he smiled and a b*tch jumped. I’m like, “Yeah keep the grill shut boo. You need to frown more.”

    Gaps are sexy but not when there’s signs directing you to the next tooth.

    Why is there a woman that works with me that is musty as f*ck. And if there is nothing in this world that irritates the f*ck out of me, it’s a stinky person. B*tch is an attack to the five senses. Eyes water, ears shut down, you taste it on your tongue, it gives you that “itchy” feeling, and you smell her before you see her. And nothing is more trifling than a funky ass woman. We have how many aisles dedicated to us? How many brands of deodorant do we have on the market? That just don’t make any sense.

    Either everyone has a stronger stomach than me or they’re just contributing to the problem. I mean I fancy myself at having a strong stomach *growing up with a gross little brother will help you* but people who stink makes me want to vomit. I get migranes when I smell someone who stinks.

    And she like to get real close to you and sh*t. Like too close for comfort.

    Why is that? Why is it that funky people like to get real f*cking close to you, like they don’t stink? I know they smell that. I know it. Doesn’t funkiness make your skin itch or something? When I’m working out at the gym and I think I smell musty, I hit the showers otherwise I start itching and sh*t. When I’m at home during those lazy days, it’s the itchiness that lets me know my funky ass need to hit the showers.

    And like stalkers, funky people like to gravitate toward me. Bus would be empty as f*ck, the funky person has to sit next to me. Crowded buses, the funky person have to stand next to me and raise their funky ass arms to gripe the bars. I’m short so I’m right there in the area problem. The funky breathe person always make it a point to be in my face. Breathing those deadly fumes in my face. And they always refuse the gum and Altoids. Always.

    Here I am smelling good with my D&G perfume and my Enchanted Apple Victoria’s Secret lotion and this b*tch smell just enveloped everything. Smell just the Black Hole of Good Smells. And you know when someone walks up and the smell assault their senses, they look at you sideways like, “Which one of yall is the nasty b*tch?”

    I had to tell her yesterday to take 3 steps back. Way the f*ck back, back to the showers back. She was in my “smelling good” comfort zone.

    So I’m talking to one of the girls and I’m concerned. I’m inquiring have anyone told this damn girl she smelled because I know I’m not the only one who smells her. Damn ignoring it. We have to come together to solve this! She was like, “Well she’s Indian…”

    What the f*ck do that have to do with the price of tea in China? B*tch you in America! I don’t give a damn what yall do back home but here in America, we wash our asses. We take advantage of deodorant *well most of us*. We have more than enough soap and water to bathe your ass.

    Being that I see no one was going to be any help, to give me some relief and sanity, I had to be the bearer of bad news. I pulled her to the side in private and told her in a nice, professional way. And yes I did yall!

    Why did this b*tch look at me like I was crazy? She said there’s nothing wrong with the way she smells, she smells “natural”. No one else have complained so why am I?

    Yeah “natural” all right…a hot natural mess.

    Why am I up for a battle on my hands? This b*tch is going to wear some deodorant if I have to put the sh*t on personally!

    Why haven’t I packed yet for this damn trip?

    Why did I buy this cute one piece short set and I kid you not I had the same f*cking outfit as a shorty. I need to go home and dig around for the picture. That sh*t blew me.

    Why did I steal my baby picture from my mom? You know the one that comes in the little oval frame with the little blanket behind it? I think it’s the picture the hospital takes after your birth because I swear everyone has the exact same picture. Why was I beige looking? Why did I have hair that mysteriously disappeared by my 8th month only to come back with a fury at two? I’m going to scan the picture tonight so you can see it. Don’t laugh. I think I was funny looking. I refuse to believe that child is yours truly.

    Why can’t I find my new bra? I think the cat did something to it.

    Why will I be on Animal Police if that cat has done something to my $42 bra?

    Why am I so in love with Pee-Wee’s Play House? I try to watch it every night. That means my phone calls are ceased, no IM until it goes off.

    But why, now that I’m older, is Pee-Wee like a pedophile? He’s really kinda creepy to be honest.

    But like a car wreck, I can’t turn away. Although I like the episode of Family Guy when Peter received reparations from Lois’ father and turned the living room into Pee-Wee’s Play House.

    Why was Lawrence Fishburne the cowboy on Pee-Wee? Don’t believe me? Watch it.

    Broke Back Mountain for that ass. Ang Lee is a fraud. Naw I’m just kidding, I enjoyed Broke Back Mountain.

    Why am I running late for work? I have yet to shower and I have to be there in 30 minutes?

    Let me end this before I ask another why.

    Wednesday, July 19, 2006

    So Long I Had To Post It In Parts, Conclusion




  • I knew he liked me. I knew it. However, I could not stand his sneaky looking ass from Day 1. My mama always told me never to trust a man that’s “too pretty”. And he was fine as sh*t. And of course he knew it. I mean everyone told him probably at least twice a day how “fine” he was. Being a Kappa was just icing on the cake, the self-professed “Pretty Boy”. Sure he talked about himself in third person sometimes but overall he was a cool individual. Always up for a good time, protective of us girls, a good listener but still…

    He rubbed me the wrong way.

    I guess I was the only one who could see past the oily smile and the Leo and the Taurus clashed. We argued all the time. I would crack vicious jokes about him being a “dirty Mexican” **Sorry my Latino/a brothers and sisters** because he took an abnormal offense to looking like a Latino. I mean he lived in a Latino neighborhood, his sisters and mother looks Latina, but he would always get really upset if someone asked if he was bi-racial *mixed with Hispanic* blood. Of course we were the comedic duo for everyone and they loved to piss me off with the “yall like each other” line.

    But it was true. He did like me. The feelings just were not mutual. I think part of the reason he liked me was the whole “challenge” factor. I did not fawn over him like everyone and I treated him like the annoying ass gnat that he is. I guess some men are turned on by rejection.

    The killing part is that he had a girlfriend! Of course she was one of the Deltas who hated my guts and took it as a personal campaign to make my life semi-hell. Never mind that I was woman enough to come to her and tell her that I wanted no parts of “her man”, she still went hard with the “Tenacious is a Home Wrecker” brigade. I guess the fact that he was f*cking anything that moved on campus including some of her sorors escaped her. Funny the sorors that was sleeping with him made sure to hop on the brigade. Three cheers for sisterhood.
    As much as I avoided him the more he pursued me. I hate him. He almost f*cked up my relationship. Killing part, my boyfriend joined the fraternity and that is his pledge father *done to alleviate the tension among them*. You know you can’t the bros slapping each other down over a female. Especially a female that’s me.
    The whole incident was partly my fault. I will admit that *now.

    My boyfriend was already “on line” to be a Kappa and that was a big blow to our relationship. Not only did our interaction dwindle to “nil” but also he was pressured to “break up” with me as soon as his line began. He didn’t of course and our relationship was a secret. We led everyone to believe that we had “broken” up. Of course he was stressed, half-delirious from lack of food and sleep, and not to mention he was pretty banged up from the night time activities. They were extra hard on him because he was a “Sweet’s Boyfriend”, he was quiet, thus “wimpy”, so he was “toughen” up. I’m not trying to get into many details but you know what I’m talking about.

    Not to mention the mind games. Oh they had him really thinking all types of foolishness and since it would be days until he could sneak away and talk most of the time when we got on the phone it turned into a mini argument. He tried his best not to believe any of the foolishness but when folks think they know you and say sh*t in a way that appears as if you said it, then folks are liable to believe anything. I tried not to snap at him but sometimes I couldn’t help it. I was stressed, I was tired, and I didn’t sleep at night because I couldn’t help but think of the bad sh*t they were doing to him.

    I had already begun to distance myself away from the whole organization as it was. I mean I could not hang out with people who later on would be beating the sh*t out of my boyfriend. I was literally sick looking at some of them, walking around with this stupid little smirk on their face and I felt as if I was on pins and needles because if I said some sh*t to piss one of them off, my boyfriend would probably end up suffering more at night. Now my three girls who I am still cool with and some of the guys understood and kinda left me alone. I got back into my schoolbooks and threw myself into other activities to keep active. I didn’t take one sip of alcohol until that night.

    The night before my boyfriend and I had a BIG blow up. Funny I don’t remember what it was but a b*tch was heated that night. Here I am being a supportive girlfriend during a period of time that most girls couldn’t fathom and here he was b*tching about something. Most guys when the begin to pledge end up losing their girlfriend and friends because they don’t understand the “rules” of pledging but I knew the deal and he was acting as if I didn’t “feel” him. So when I found out one of the bros was having a “get together” and this was a “mandatory” attendance which meant my black ass better come out the dungeons and attend.

    I went to the party anyway and got tore the f*ck up. I think that was a Top 5 of “Tenacious Getting So f*cked Up She Should Have Alcohol Poisoning” moments. And you guessed it.

    An opportunity for KAPPA to make the moves.

    Which he did. While I was drowning my anger with Bacardi Superior double shots, here come those famous shoulders that girls used to cry on. I’m venting to him, a surprise because I can’t stand more than two seconds in his company, I’m miserable because of the boyfriend. I am miserable because I’m forced to be at the party. He’s being the “good friend” and slowly feeding me more alcohol. Like an idiot I just kept drinking them. He started rubbing my shoulders and since I had a strict “Don’t f*cking touch m” rule with his ass, I guess since I didn’t, he made his move. I did nothing to stop it. I can admit that now. I had a hazy awareness of what he was doing but the alcohol *and hormones* lowered my inhibition. My wall that I usually have up was brought down by the Bacardi.

    We f*cked. Gave up the goodies while the party was going on downstairs. Where were my so-called friends? Oh they were downstairs celebrating. I guess my moping around was not about to stop their fun. They assumed I ducked out and went home *so they claim* I let the liquor and hormones get the best of me. I woke up, hair all over my head, and naked. Saw his sleeping form and literally screamed. Woke his ass the f*ck up. I couldn’t believe it. This muthaf*cker got the muthaf*cking drawls. To say I was pissed is an understatement. I f*cking snapped. Not only that, I did not see one condom wrapper. I just know that nigga did not just slide up me raw. Yes the f*ck he did. A pregnancy test was not a factor, I was on the shot, but an STD and HIV Testing was mandatory. Who knows what was crawling on his penis.

    So I’m yelling like a wild woman and I’m putting the dukes up because we are about to box. So of course everyone runs in the room, hearing all the commotion and tried to break us up, because I was going to kill this nigga. I had where I was going to hide the body and everything.

    I had to will myself not to call the police and claim rape. I was disgusted with myself. And scared.

    This fool had the nerve to tell me to “go home and calm down. He’ll call me later”. Call me later for what? So I can find out where you are and run you down in a car? He was loving it. Not only did he hit the impossible Tenacious, everyone knows he did. Of course before I left, I slapped that dumb ass smirk off his f*cking face. I’m at the clinic with my roommate, crying and sh*t. She’s rubbing my back and telling me to not think the worst. This trifling bastard. I can’t believe it. I f*cked this nigga.

    Then came the debate: Should I or Shouldn’t I tell my boyfriend?

    If it was me from last year then hell naw I was not saying sh*t. If it ever got back to him I would have lied. Claim it was a nigga lying on his d*ck and of course go into “fight” mode for spreading “vicious lies” about me. It would not even really be a debate. I would have just been mad that we f*cked without a condom. I would have been pissed that he tricked me out the panties but that just would have furthered my hatred for him.

    However, this was the new me. I’m in love and OMG I FUCKED UP me. I know how men are when it comes to cheating. Men will f*ck anything moving but let their girl slide out and get her a piece. A man will act as if their world is over. Face just fall the f*ck off. Like someone ripped their heart out their body and threw it against the wall. He was already stressed from being online and I did not want to be the bearer of bad news but at the same time, I didn’t want him to find out the hard way. Them niggas would’ve put all my sh*t on blast at night in order to “break” him. Or they would have exaggerated the story and made it more than it was to hurt him. I knew many of them did not like me any way for various reasons and were anxiously licking their chops. I mean my boyfriend can’t be a faithful Kappa now can he? Especially when Kappas pride themselves on getting “hoes”. And who’s better to turn against me but my boyfriend? They lived for drama like that.
    So I went to the dean of their line, a close brother of mine, and we talked for about five hours. I ended up crying. I made him promise not to let them say anything *by now of course everyone knew and was waiting for the fireworks. This is why I fell out with most of them and some of my court because they wanted me to get hurt* and let me do it.

    So I did. We finally met up a few days before he crossed and I told him. Everything. I cried. He cried. He left.

    That sh*t hurted more than I thought. I went to his Probate Show and he looked at me as if he did not know me. Like I was slime. He gave me the dirtiest look ever. Would not talk to me. Would not look in my direction. I guess he told his new line brothers because if looks could kill, I would be dead. I think they already hated me internally due to my name always being brought up at their “nightly” sessions which internalized to “Tenacious name=Ass Whooping Time” because my name meant “trouble”.

    I was sick. I would not eat, I could not sleep. The only thing that kept me going was my girls and the three girls from my court whom I remained close with. My grades were the best they had ever been as I studied more to keep my mind occupied. I lost 10 lbs., not well on my small frame. Of course, now that I was officially “single” as one of his brothers made sure to tell people my “trifling ass was single” dudes did come out the woodwork, making it worse. He will be walking around on campus and here I am with three dudes grinning all up in my face, including KAPPA who got into his head that we should “be” together. He wanted me for himself. Nigga still want me to himself. He and my boyfriend are not close to this day.

    After a turbulent summer of making up and breaking up, we enter Junior Year. School was back in session and he is active on campus and in his fraternity. KAPPA graduated but that did not stop his ass from calling me or trying to get with me on the low. Girls were all over my boyfriend, sparking paranoia in me, for I was convinced he was going to try to get “back” at me. Therefore, I was instantly wary of females who got too close thus; I earned the reputation as a “Bitch”. The middle of the year I had calmed down but it would spark up from time to time, leading to fights and silent treatments. We were both still healing but every time something goes good, the subject was brought back up again. Up course his line brothers thought he was dumb as hell for getting back with me and made a point of mentioning it everyday. Everyone was against me, it seems. Never mind that it was one slip up and I did not stray at all that year. Hell I wouldn’t even dance on a nigga due to the “Goon Squad” at my neck reporting every little thing I did.

    By the end of junior year however, the sun broke through the clouds.

    Senior went flawlessly. No fights, no arguments, nothing. It is as if we fell back in love all over again. It was as if we both were trying to do better. Become the person each other wanted us to be. Pro/Cons of the relationship and our behavior. He was accepted to Grad School in DC and asked about the future of our relationship. He knows I don’t do long distant relationships but did I really want to throw 3 years away? We went back and forth on the issue. I did not want to leave home. Chicago is in my blood. It is my comfort zone. However, DC would be a new experience. Just us. No nosy friends. No hating frat brothers. No spies. Nothing. Just us. We will have to depend on one another. That means the big step of “officially” living together. Splitting everything down the middle.

    I weighed on this issue for three months. Graduation Day I told him I would move to DC.

    And here I am.

    Of course DC affords me some freedom and some of dormant traits *flirting* sparked back up. Men gravitate toward me. Why…I have no idea. I am just me. Take me or Leave me.

    I have met more women like my best friends and I. That “Take No Prisoners” approach. That “Keeping It Real” factor. The “Don’t Bullsh*t Me Nigga” attitude. More realistic. The realization that the p*ssy is not going to keep a man from straying nor get you into a relationship. Just like a man, we are willing to say whatever to get in your pants. Damn a relationship, we can be f*ck friends. No you will accept my terms of agreement. Don’t come at me wrong nigga because I will dice you up with my words. Dude, I am just like you only with breasts and a menstrual cycle. Baby boy, the d*ck will never get me whipped. Men come along every ten minutes, play with me if you want. Leave the games for kids, be real with me and I will be real with you. Nigga don’t “baby-ify* the sh*t, spit it out! I’m a Big Girl I can take it.

    Don’t think because I’m young you can control me. I don’t fall for the okie-doke. Trust you’ll catch feelings before I do. Don’t think because I’m young, I don’t know the deal. Sure I don’t have the men but I have the experience. I can see a situation forming and know how to handle it.

    I can be a “Man Eater” but I don’t want to. I don’t want you to fall in love with me. But I know how to do it. I know what to say, just like you, to get what I want. Maybe you can sniff it out, maybe you can’t. But I know.


    I just revealed more than I ever have to people.

    Writing is really a form of therapy.

    Thank you for reading.

    Tuesday, July 18, 2006

    So Long I Had To Post It In Parts, Part III



  • Then I got with the boyfriend. We had met in the beginning of the school year and had gotten really, really cool. He started off as a f*ck buddy but a really cool one. He did his thing and eventually I started cutting off my other f*ck buddy and made my *now* boyfriend my “exclusive”. Yes everyone, them feelings got entangled. He intrigued me. He was my “type” and I could see the goodness in him. Mama did not raise a fool yall, I wasn’t going to let the next b*tch hit the jackpot so I swooped him up before the sharks started circling. Luckily he felt the same. It was always funny though: folks seen us together so much and they knew we were the type not to settle down **at least not with each other** and we were going out for a year before the campus believed we went together. Everyone thought that we were really good friends and actually thought that SIGMA was my boyfriend. But SIGMA and I fell out for a couple of months because he accused me of f*cking one of my good male friends from high school who went to Eastern and was in town for a party. Of course this was relayed to him via U of I rumor circuits and little did I know SIGMA was feeling me more than I thought. He got really mad *never mind the fact that I had a boyfriend, he refused to believe I “copped” one*, I got mad and I did not talk to him for three months. Eventually we squashed it though because he got up with the girl who would be his second baby’s mother.

    Sh*t wasn’t sweet though those first few months of my newfound relationship. I mean we had a rough patch once we got together because I was still out doing my thing **6 months rule until I claim you as a boyfriend**, and of course my boyfriend was aware of the type of person I am so he was a little wary of me *I mean who wouldn’t* because of my reputation as a “Man Eater” *lol*. There were people hating left and right on our relationship. Dudes were jealous *and angry* that we were going out, trying desperately to throw my name in the mud, trying to say “folks and ‘em” hit and all this foolishness only for me to confront them and they backtrack their story. While I don’t have a problem admitting whom I’ve f*cked **unless you’re in the “Whom Who Is Not Named” Category LOL*, don’t try to lie on the d*ck. Females hated because my undeserving ass got one of the few “good” guys on campus. So the odds were not in my favor. Throw in the fact that I have been told that I look like I’m on bullsh*t and I am not the “faithful” type and we have all sorts of problems. I look like a cheater. Ain’t that some f*cked up shit? What type of look is that? Do I really look like I am a cheater? That is so far from the truth **now** it’s funny. I am faithful to a “T”. Unless of course my man is not.

    But I broke my rule by 4 months. I dubbed him as an official boyfriend by April. I was intrigued by him. He was *and still is* everything I want in a man. And he’s so aggressive *but not in a way that pisses me off*, he’s like a “take charge” man which is a turn on for me. Yeah he “lets” me get away with some things but when he put that size 12 down…Ooh I shiver in delight. Plus he stands up to me. I love that, a man that will tell me to sh*t the f*ck up and grab me and kiss me real hard on the lips. He doesn’t let me just get my way to shut me the f*ck up which is probably why we avoid fighting so much because it’s a World War up in here when we get into it. I know that eventually I can wear a man down and just turn him into a “Yes Ma’am, No Ma’am” type **turn off by the way** and manipulate him to see things my way but he’s just as stubborn as me. Sometimes it’s irritating because someone has to be the “loser” in our fights but we usually end up in a “draw” because no one will budge.

    We hit a rough patch sophomore year when I decided on a whim **I am so impulsive** to join an auxiliary court, a “Little Sister” to one of the Black Greek Fraternities. I’ve heard the stereotypes about these types of groups but once I set my mind on something, I’m intent on following through. I wasn’t really focusing on the stereotypes because hell it’s a stereotype. Ok and I were swayed by the promise of free admission to all the parties and alcohol. Hello I was still underage and I wasn’t in Chicago where 12 year olds can go to Rothschild’s and buy a fifth for their mama no problem. While I eventually fell out with 95% of the girls in my court and within the fraternity, I did have major fun and I still have fun with the individuals I am cool with. I only regret one thing about joining that damn group and the story is right below. Being the only girl in my court with a steady boyfriend whom I was faithful to was a major benefit **and flaw to some brothers, the sleazy ones who wanted us to be single** but I did not really have to worry *outside of a few* about other brothers from other schools trying to “hit” and besides I had quickly earned the reputation as the “Resident Bitch”. I was the “mean one”, “the cock blocker”, “Ms Captain Save A Hoe” and “The Mama” of the group. I was the oldest by a couple of months and I was the “Captain” of my court’s line.

    I was Ms. KonKrete. Hard as a muthaf*cking rock.

    Of course my court was plagued by the usual narrow minded and down right outrageous rumors. Folks were watching a little too much School Daze *one of my favorite movies by the way* and would just come up and ask us the dumbest sh*t in the world. Is it true we had to suck all their d*ck and f*ck in order to be a Sweet? I mean damn it was 16 brothers in the chapter that year not to mention the ones who would come down almost every weekend from other schools, that’s a lot of dick to be sucking considering it was only 8 of us. Did we have to cook and clean? Our notoriously bad cooking ass? Only three of us knew how to cook and the rest of us spent more time begging them to cook for us than for the men? Is it true they beat the sh*t out of us to become a sweetheart? I’m like we are not a fraternity nor a sorority. We don’t have a process nor do we cross any burning sands to get where we are. Just a lot of dumb sh*t and due to the type of ladies we are **we all have some type of anger issue** we began to get into with a lot of people on campus. Mainly the girls because they always wanted to “test” us. And it was always the girls whom were f*cking and sucking at the house and would be embarrassed because when they come downstairs, who’s chilling in the living room eating a sandwich? US. Not that we cared but some girls took an issue with us because we discovered that “undercover hoe’ in them. So what else is there to do but sling mud on us before we could sling it back? I could fill this blog up on random stories *good and bad* about my court but I’ll save that for another time. We were the “Buck” ones, of course earning the wrath of a few brothers who would always get on us for acting “unladylike”. They wanted us pretty and arrogant, not pretty, arrogant, and wild as hell. We got weekly lectures about the faults we did that week and of course yours truly was always dubbed as the “Ringleader” by default even when I wasn’t there for that particular incident.

    At one time I thought about joining a sorority because it was the “college” thing to do for a Black person. I really didn’t care about a particular one. I wasn’t going to lie talking about I respected the sisterhood, or their community service or anything like that. I wanted to join just to join. I guess that’s real f*cked up huh? My grandmother, an aunt, various cousins and uncles were all members of Black Greek Organizations but I was always wary about them due to stories I’ve heard from them but my favorite cousin was pressuring me to join “her” sorority so I was like “Why not”? Like the dumb, na├»ve college student I was, I assumed that a woman’s auxiliary court could transcend into sorority like the males’ auxiliary court. On my campus, we had the DeBo court *ran under Sigma Gamma Rhos* and 95% of the men I knew who were now Greek was a DeBo at some point and time. My high school mentor *who was in the same auxiliary group as I and is a Delta* encouraged me to join an auxiliary court rather than do it the old fashioned way **kissing hella ass** as a way of “introducing” myself to the Yard. Of course my cousin was against the whole idea, bringing up the age old “stereotypes” but by then I was already involved.

    Boy what a joke that was. I guess an auxiliary group meant something different in her times. She made it seem like it was a cakewalk and sororities were fighting for her membership. We got the opposite. The sororities hated our f*cking guts. With good cause I suppose. We were making a mockery of them I guess. I never really grasped their whole issue with us since I was told that the beef was set in motion by previous courts before us. They called us everything from “Hoes” to “Fakes” and we were told by the “ringleaders” of the sororities that we better not apply for their sororities because we will never, ever be picked. That sh*t stung for the few girls who were interesting in possibly pledging a sorority and those two girls eventually cut us the f*ck off to try to get back in the good graces of the sororities but it was already a “no go”. It also didn’t help that the ones who didn’t give a f*ck about the sororities would purposely go out of their way to irk the sh*t out them. They would proudly wear our T shirts to all the parties, chant, stroll, just became a boil on their asses. A few went as far as to flirt with their man. I wasn’t into that but of course I was “guilty by association”.

    Later on I realized that I could never join a sorority anyway as I don’t get along with women too well, especially women who I am “forced” to be friends with and all “ride and die” for. Hell if I don’t like you, I just don’t like you. Damn the sisterhood. This is clear because out of the 8 ladies in my court, I am still cool with only three. The other five, I’ll spit on them b*tches.

    Enter the eternal boil on my ass KAPPA. This muthaf*cker. I think I can honestly say he is the only person that I can honestly say I hate. I hate this nigga so much I want to spit in his eye every time I see him. Mention his name and it’s like a sour taste in my mouth. He is the eternal boil on my black ass. He is the reason that I regret joining an auxiliary group.

    Now sophomore year I’m living it up. I’m getting into all the parties for free, free alcohol, road trips to various schools, getting mad love there from other Sweethearts and Bros, I was just having a good time. But my relationship wasn’t. Due to the rumors of auxiliary groups, me always gone kicking it with the bros and my court, my relationship got really strained and we began to fight more than usual. By this time we had confessed our love to one another so although I was surrounded by nice looking men, he was the only one I had eyes for. It also didn’t help that those same haters began whispering sh*t in my boyfriend’s ears about my “promiscuousness” and they sh*t they had supposedly seen going on at “The House”. He didn’t know who to believe or what to believe since a lot of sh*t went on that I could not disclose to him, silenced by the oath that I had taken. He didn’t like the “mysteriousness” that went on, nor did he like how much time I was spending with “The Family”. It didn’t help that I would get mad at him and go drown my anger and frustration with alcohol at one of the bro’s house. He was pissed that I would spend the night at their house a few nights out the week and we would all **at least 5 of us** would all be in the bed together sleep. We would pile into someone’s King size bed and just lie out and go to sleep. Of course when some of the other bros found out we were at a particular bros house they would rush over to come kick it with us. Including KAPPA. Because we would often stay over there so late *before we wised up and just started bringing a change of clothes* we took to wearing their T-Shirts **not Frat shirts** and their clean boxers to sleep **tight jeans are not comfortable to sleep in** with.

    Now girls in my court were not sweet as honey. There were some that were intent on reinforcing the stereotype, of course f*cking it up for the rest of us. We did have a couple of resident “Bust Downs” who got down with half the brothers from our school as well as other schools. Now if I was around, there was no f*cking of course because I was trying to be a good friend and not let any of them do anything they did not want. Then even I said “f*ck it. Let a hoe be a hoe”. The brothers all knew who to hit on and who not to hit on. I was in the “impossible” status. No one was getting any of this but my boyfriend. I know some of them took bets to see who would get me first *Just because I was sleep doesn’t mean I was in a deep sleep. Maybe some of them should have left the room if they wanted to talk about that* but I wasn’t biting. I just knew who to limit my contact with. Besides those brothers were only 5% of the chapter who was trying to f*ck. The rest treated us like we were annoying little sisters but will beat the brakes off a nigga for “disrespecting” us. They shielded us from a lot of bullsh*t but even they couldn’t stop f*cking KAPPA. Once he got into his head he wanted something he was not going to stop until he got it.

    Apparently that was “me”. Nigga was obsessed with Tenacious. He wasn’t a stalker but he has the tendencies.

    My relationship had gotten back on track. I began to pay my boyfriend more attention. I was actually pulling away from the brothers because my boyfriend would be pledging the same fraternity *His older brother is a member. Like I said going Greek was the “Black” college thing to do at my school* and I knew sh*t would just be different. Besides I was well aware of the “process” and I knew our time would be very limited and I did not want him to get hurt on account of his “Sweetheart” girlfriend. We were progressing rapidly and it was almost like the antics from the beginning of the year were a bad dream.

    Until KAPPA f*cked it up

    Monday, July 17, 2006

    A Well Spent Weekend...

    I am happy to report Frenchie Boy did not make an appearance this morning.

    Praise the Lawd.

    Now he knows Black folks do not play. Damn what ya heard.

    My energy level has been peaking, so you know what that meant. Usually I am the calm, cool, collected one, stress rolls off my back, but I guess things have been getting to me more than I cared to admit. I am still dealing with it one-step at a time but things have been getting better.

    My girl FH ended up with that back being blown out. You know the b*tch called me in the bathroom with all the Rated “X’ details.
    This nigga not only put up, he shut her the f*ck up. Worked her ass like a part-time job.

    He can’t be breaking the stereotype like that though. Sh*t blew her and me. I mean 9 times out a 10, a nigga who runs his mouth about how “good” he is, how big his d*ck it, what he’s going to do you when yall alone usually ends up a waste of coochie juice and hard nipples. Sometimes one come along who does blow your back out but that’s rare *at least in my case*.

    She said although the penis was average *about 7 inches* he worked that sh*t like a porn star. Major STICKY THIGH. Had her sleeping with the pillow in between her legs and everything. In addition, the mouth was fantastic. Hell I started to ask her to bottle that sh*t up and send it Fed-Ex overnight.

    Due to all the sordid details, I had to step my game up that night. I wasn’t
  • Nsaneleesane
  • but I think I did the damn thing that night. Shut his ass up for a little while. Huh, call my sex game “weak”. Tuh, acting as if he didn’t know what the deal was. Rode his ass to sleep just for “disrespecting” Ms. Kitty.

    I mean damn a sista fall asleep just once during sex and I can’t live that down. To my defense, I was tired. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. It was hilarious as hell though.

    Saturday the boyfriend and I ended up hitting up a comedy club out in Laurel, Md. Tell me why our bartender looked like a crack head version of TuPac? Tell me why we spent more time laughing at that than the actual comedians. Two were funny as hell and one was just ok. He was on the “Bad Boys of Comedy” Tour, I had never heard of him *nor the “Bad Boys of Comedy” tour, give me “Kings of Comedy” any day* but apparently everyone else had. He was not very funny. The food and drinks though were off the chain.

    I wanted to go to the clubs afterwards but since it was Allen Iverson’s weekend or whatever the hell it’s called, all the clubs were taxing out the ass. I wasn’t paying damn $30 to see Jeezy ass. Have you lost it? Maybe A.I since I have had a crush on him since I was, like, 14 but Jeezy? I don’t even like his c.d.
    And females were out in “full groupie” attire. I don’t think I’ve seen that many breasts and booty hanging out ever! I was like, “Damn why waste that Band-Aid you call a shirt, just gone ‘head and expose them”. We opted not to go to the club and we just strolled around DC *the good parts* like a tourist.

    None of that hand holding here T. We don’t do that.

    I bummed away my Sunday as usual, doing nothing but cleaning and talking on the phone. I finally got around to calling some folks back who has been calling me for the past week or so. As usual half of them did not want anything.

    Good old DRAMA finally stopped messing with the scumbag loser of hers. Not to worry, she is messing with some cat that goes to Northern Illinois. I bet he has a girlfriend. That girl is the most drama-starting female I know. In addition, not to mention b*tch needs an Oscar sometimes because she sure do be fronting.

    *sigh* But it is only so much you can tell that girl before you are like f*ck it. I play her like Butter plays Toast sometimes because I know she be on grimy sh*t.

    DH is back on that Okie Doke again. I had to break out the violin and hum “Cry Me A River” because she was once again going on and on about her situation with her husband. See how some women are? Have a good ass man and is willing to throw it away for some hard d*ck and some white fluid. They’re still in counseling but she now wants “space” because he is “suffocating” her by being too caring and attentive to her needs. I know she’s committing adultery. I asked her flat out who is she f*cking but she tried to play like she didn’t hear a word that I was saying. Little liar. I told her to keep my name out her mouth when she’s talking to her husband. Nigga is not about to put roots on me and have all my damn teeth and hair fall out.

    TWIN is about to go on a Tour of the Dominican Republic. She’s in the Navy and her lazy ass doesn’t do anything. They do, however, go to nice ass places for a couple of months. No fighting or anything unlike FH who is going over to Iraq for a year in September. I told FH she better shoot herself in the foot or something. Get knocked up or something. Hell get a female to go in on a baby scam or something. I told her to bring a Spanish Papi for me because men from the D.R. is fine as f*ck. Makes me want to brush up on my Spanish.

    LIGHT BRIGHT found out that I knew he has leukemia *Our mothers have some big ass mouths* and he’s all weird about it. He’s had it since he was a teenager **funny I never noticed as a child but who does** and while he’s healthy now, he was like folks act all iffy and weird when they find out. Like he is contagious or something. A girl even broke up with him because he disclosed the information. I was just like, “Wow are people really that ignorant?” I don’t care, I was just surprised to find out. I thought all chemo patients look all cracked out and weird looking but he looks good. He called because he wanted to ask me should he still mess around with a girl who just wants him for his cash. I was like “Did you really have to ask that question?” He likes her, he takes her out, but she’s not giving up the goodies. I was like, “Well if you keep tricking off your dough, you’re not getting the return you want, yet you’re still tricking it off, umm yeah she’s taking your ass to the cleaners.”

    He got kinda iffy and got off the phone. Hell if you didn’t want to hear my personal opinion, then why did you ask? He called me back 10 minutes later. Of course I was right.

    My gay pal G **Not to be confused the blogger G** called me. He’s in Philly, the “City of Brotherly Love” and he’s in heaven of course. That man loves men more than I do. It doesn’t help that he’s a hoe as well. It also doesn’t help that all of his boyfriends are fine as f*ck but loves Dick more than Jane. Just pisses me off, why the f*ck do the fine ones have to like the sausage? I be trying to brush the B-cups on them **meaning I have to get really really damn close to do that** to try to convert them back to the p*ssy with no success. However, they will ask me where I got my panties from because they are sooo cute. I had to cut him off before he went into some details that I did not want to hear. It’s bad enough as joke he sends me forwards of porn that comes blasting out of the speakers, usually embarrassing the sh*t out of me, having folks think I am a pervert. Not to mention the time when I walked in on him in the bathroom being, um, serviced by another dude. I had to douse my eyes in bleach to get that damn image out my head. I mean damn close and lock the door. But was I a pervert for being intrigued, I mean his sh*t was all down that dude’s throat. Ok eww. I will not take it there. But I love G. He was the first ghetto ass gay dude I knew. Not a damn feminine bone in his damn body. No limp wrist, no sashay, no high screeching voice with the lisp, nothing. I refused to believe he loved penis until, um, well yeah that incident. I was convinced the nigga was playing. Of course he’s coined a “homo thug” now **what an oxymoron by the way** but in high school, I thought he was lying until of course I caught him with his pants down. Literally. It is always amusing to hear him talk about guys as if they were females because he’s so hood and he be talking about banging dudes backs out like they are female.


    Maybe one day he will come back from the dark side. That also goes to show they are out there ladies. Don’t always look for the sashay *although my ass is always checking for the sashay*. But G is secure in his sexuality and doesn’t even front. He is known for telling some female, “Ay yo, I ain’t feeling you like that. But ya mans? Tell him I said what up.”


    Jaws drop like a muthaf*cker. I told him as long as he’s not checking for my man, he’s all good. Even though that will say something if he take my man from me. Of course, my boyfriend hates him. They were cool until my boyfriend found out he loves penis.

    I feel bad about neglecting G sometimes but I don’t want to hear about your sexual conquests. It’s only so much I can take before even I have my limitations. I don’t want to hear about all of that. But he’s always hilarious to talk to.

    I talked to my godson’s mother. Damn I am such a bad godmother. The last time I saw him he was about to turn one. Now he’ll be two in August. He’s bad as hell but so damn cute. I have his Christmas picture saved as a screen saver. I felt somewhat bad because when I went home, I did not stop by her house to see her or him. But I do buy him hell of sh*t. I spoil the children in my life. He has little baby Timbs, good Rocawear ‘fits, the whole nine yards. The sh*t is an obnoxious waste of money of course, I grew up wearing Goldblatts and Ventures ‘fits as a toddler, maybe an Osh Kosh or two, but little kids nowadays dresses better than I do. I told her once his ass turns 5, all that sh*t is going to stop. That’s when the prices rival adults.

    The next time I go home, I’m going to baby-sit her son, my niece, nephew, and my baby cousin. Yeah you know they will be in bed by three *lol* Hell when I go to sleep, yall go to sleep. Or watch yourselves. That’s the other option. I’m going to recruit a baby sitter. That would all I need, see someone from high school I couldn’t stand and he or she see me walking with four child all under the age of five. Not the class valedictorian. Boy tongues will wag all while I’m trying to explain that these ain’t my kids!

    I sat up, watched Dave Chappelle but I was so busy running my mouth, I didn’t even pay attention to the episode and sat up, and waited until it came back on at like 1 am. That sh*t was funny as hell even though that was the skit that caused Dave to quit the show. He will live on through the DVDs that I swiped from G. Of course when he asked for them, I played dumb. Hey you have 2 weeks to ask for your things back or they become my property.

    Oh yeah someone has taken to playing music on my voicemail. Sometimes my phone acts bootleg *blame me dropping it twice already* and I can’t get a signal so all my calls go to voicemail. I check my voicemail about once a week because usually folks don’t leave them, they rely on the “missed call” log *like I do*. Verizon is also kinda bootleg in that it doesn’t recite the phone number like Sprint.

    Friday, it was GONE by NSync which is my muthaf*cking song! I love that damn song. Hey don’t front like yall wasn’t feeling the video and sh*t.
    Sunday it was ALL HER LOVE by Donnell Jones. Boy you can’t me shit about that c.d. That is one of my favorite c.ds actually.
    So it’s someone who knows all my cuts obviously but of course it could be just one of the crazy exes. Kinda weird but sh*t I was jamming down to my voicemail. Had to get back on the illegal download kick and I have those songs on the Shuffle.

    Oh well.

    As long as they ain’t burning up my daytime minutes.