My Very Normal Holiday Home..Conclusion

Thursday was normal.

Once again too normal for my family. Last year I woke up to an argument over whether the ham or turkey should get cooked first. And cooking both at the same time was out because “I don’t want the ham smelling like the turkey and vice versa” *actual words*

Of course bringing up the point that it all goes to one place and out the other was futile and I was ordered to get my “no cooking” ass out the kitchen.

Yeah my household is known for dumb ass arguments.

This year I woke up to…nothing. In fact I woke up late as hell. When I woke up the only person home was my brother as his baby mother decided to take the kids over to her family’s house this year and they left late Wednesday night.

I was informed that my uncle had cooked all the food and to be ready by 2 pm. Ok…yeah it was after one when I rolled my ass out the bed, thanks for informing me.

No matter. We run on CP Time in my family. He came screeching up at 5 pm. His crazy ass wife in the car. His crazy ass wife who isn’t invited to family functions because my aunt and my mother threatened to beat her ass if she crosses the threshold.

And they are not playing. This woman has issues. In fact her name isn’t even spoken in the family. Either she’s “She Who Shall Not Be Named”, “That Bitch” or “Anthony’s Wife”. Never her real name which is Darlene, pronounced “Dah-Leen” *you know we country as hell in my family*

I think I told JULES about her nutty ass but let me do a quick recap on her:

She has two sons. One little water head kid and a teenager who I think personally is a deaf, mute because all he do is stare at you blinking. She revealed to my uncle that she doesn’t know who her youngest son’s father is because she slept with THREE men during that time period.

I thought I saw that heifer on Maury before…

But um in my personal opinion not a great sign in a relationship (for a man) if your s/o reveals that she let three random men squirt all up in her during a what one…two week period and she doesn’t know who her son’s father is nor do she care to find out.

Her family is all high and mighty and can’t stand my family. Even told my uncle on their wedding day that he was “dirt” and he’ll never earn acceptance in their family. No biggie to us because she was already called out on her wedding day for being a stank hoe anyway so the feeling is mutual. BUT these same motherfuckers who hate my uncle with a passion don’t have a problem with his cooking. He even cooked their Thanksgiving dinner BUT he wasn’t invited for dinner.

I told my uncle I would licked all over that food before I handed it over and put a booger or two in the candied yams for extra measure.

Yeah I’m spiteful, so what.

My uncle and his wife fight like cats and dogs because she’s a control freak. She calls him no less than 50 times a day, always to “check in” because she told him that our family is trying to “break them up” and introduce him to other women.

Which is true.

He can’t drive their car over 30 MPH and he can’t go anywhere without at least one of the kids.

I am not bullshitting you. If he goes to the grocery store, guaranteed one of those kids are in the car with him. Um like he can’t cheat with the kids in the car?!

Recently they went through a divorce process because they got into it at work and they both lost their jobs **She was a teacher, he was a security guard at the same school, that’s how they met** and she kicked him out the house. Took all his stuff out the closet, cut it up, put it in a box and deposited in on my mother’s doorsteps.

Another reason why her ass is grass ‘round these parts.

Threw all his electronics out on the lawn and poured bleach on the shit.

You think that’ll be the straw that broke the camel’s back but oh no they went to “counseling” and are now on the verge of getting remarried.

That must be what Platinum Pussy is. And I told my uncle such. I told him he needs to step away from the coochie because that’s some platinum shit right there. I mean tear up all your shit, padlock the crib, control every aspect of your life…And you enjoy it?!

And my uncle is not the "hen pecked" type. In fact we were shocked to find out he was in an actual committed relationship with ONE woman! And he has yet to cheat! My uncle and cheater just goes together quite nicely. I'm not used to him as an actual married man who honors his vows to this nutcase.

Both of them should be committed.

I’ll take some D- penis any day over some platinum dick. If platinum dick is anything like platinum pussy, I think I'll pass.

I joked with my grandmother that she put roots on my uncle because her people are into that hoodoo stuff and no telling what type of spell she have on my uncle. I just know I won't be eating her cooking anytime soon. No thank you.

But trust the family does not like this shit. Does not like it at all. They’ve been ready to open a can of whoop ass on her for a nice little minute but she doesn’t do more than drop him off and pick him up…but call every 10 minutes like she’s crazy.

I mean damn what part of “I’m eating” does she not get? She’ll call back 10 minutes later like “Are you still eating…?” And don’t let him not pick up the phone, oh she’ll phone stalk until he does pick up the phone and everyone could hear her yelling from the cell phone.

My uncle has handed his nuts to the Devil. One day he’ll get Satan behind him.

Until then…we’re stuck with Darlene.

This woman really is all types of crazy and I was a little eager to see if she would come inside to say “hello” to everyone but she’s crazy but she ain’t that crazy. I can see her little ass getting tossed all up in the front yard and shit.

Would not be a pretty sight.

So after she drove off **and of course called 10 minutes later asking did we get in the house…like she didn’t see us walk through the door from the car** I come in to…laughter.

Folks were sitting around watching football in one room, some Disney show in the other. No overturned card table because someone was accused of cheating or “not watching the board”. A calm game of Bid Whist going on. No loud arguments in the kitchen over who and the hell brought this because such and such was bringing that dish and no one likes when that person cooks that dish anyway…which usually leads to the square off with butter knives. No everyone working together to reheat some of the dishes. Kids all quiet, no ripping and running through the house until someone is yanked by the arm, shook, and told to go sit his or her monkey ass down before some ass whooping are handed out. You know my family hands those out like candy. No loud ass rap music blaring from the basement. No one tying up the phone line because someone would just die if they couldn’t cake on the phone with their boyfriend (or girlfriend). My grandmother relaxing, no breaking up arguments or getting her blood pressure up. Alcoholic aunt on her second beer of the night, which means she hasn’t began her drunken tirades like she usually do where you catches you watching by, and slurring her words, either tell you how much she loves or hates you over and over until she’s led away.

I had to go to the door and make sure I got dropped off at the right house. I was convinced this was not my screwy family.

And then the ball dropped.

My cousin and I are semi-speaking.

Now we’re not at the point where we’re buddy buddy but we managed to have quite a few civil words with one another. And dare I say it but even some laughter?! When we’re not fighting like two bitches on a side street, we’re actively ignoring one another, using only grunts and hand signals as forms of communication.

You know me, in a brain freeze, she was talking to me for quite a minute before I realized she was directing questions toward me. Friendly Territory questions at that. Questions that…an old friend might ask when catching up.
*shudder*

But we were laughing like old times. I won’t lie it did feel kinda good until my conscious smacked some sense in me and I hardened up again. That’s a long road to redemption and she’s not going to get my trust that easily.

But still it felt nice.

All of us played nice. No biting sarcasm, no finger pointing, no calling out folks.

Just a cozy ass holiday.

And I was sweating bullets. I kept peeking out the window because I was sure the end was near. This was the most normal holiday that I can remember.

If Christmas is like this, I’m seriously checking myself into a psych ward. My family can not be normal. It’s like, in our blood, to be crazy and irrational.

But there was a glimmer of my “old” family: My father and I had it out.

Now you know me, chronic “niggeritis” put me to sleep after stuffing my belly. Why did he call me fussing because I haven’t made my way over to my grandmother’s house and wanted to launch into a lecture? I simply told him that he didn’t make a way for me to get over there and he know where I’m at, he could easily get someone to pick me and since he did not sponsor me with “rental car” funds he can miss me with his mouth. I could have easily gotten a ride or asked can I borrow my grandmother’s jeep but I don’t like to drive and my family wasn’t that normal…the first thing that fell out of some of their mouths was “gas money” and I know that role. I don’t have a problem giving gas money but I’m not filling up someone’s tank! Miss me with that shit.

And he knows I trade off on holidays. I spent last Thanksgiving with his family and Christmas with mine. This year my mother’s family gets Thanksgiving and he gets Christmas.

JBN came by to do nothing more than freeload and get bombarded with questions because my family swears I “hide” him from them. No matter how many times I tell them he’s working two jobs AND going to school so he can’t get away as easily as I can, they swear up and down I’m hiding him. Trust I would’ve hidden him a long time ago but what’s the point, he knows as many of my family secrets as I do.

We went to see Déjà vu which was a great movie. But I’ll watch Denzel act his way out of a paper bag if need be.

Friday my mother finally came home and I thanked her for my Hello Kitty PJs which I love to death.

My mommy spoils me.

And after going to get something to eat we went on the riverboat for a night of gambling. I don’t really condone gambling because my mother has something of a gambling problem but after putting her on an allowance, we hit the slots.

And besides the overwhelming smell of cigarettes and the skeevy men that made it a point to stop me in my tracks when going to make change or use the bathroom, I had a good time. Ok I was carded three times but whatever. I wore my hair down! I looked at least 21 but oh no every time I moved away from my mother a security guard would make it a point to ask for my ID like I didn’t have to show ID to the security guard when I got on the boat.

Some man asked me to blow on his dice for luck but I misunderstood him and thought he asked me to blow on his dick for luck *how I screwed up “dice” and “dick” is beyond me, my mind must have been in the gutter* and I had to do a double take and ask him to “repeate por favor” because I was about to come out the coat.

I felt stupid when he did repeat it because I already had a retort bubbling on my tongue but I just tucked my lip in and walked off.

We had fun though, lost majority of our “allowance” but I had fun. My mother and I don’t get to hang out often when I’m town so every little bit of time helps and I cherish every moment.

Oh yeah my phone crashed three times in Chicago. I don’t know what it is about Chicago that my phone hates but it never works right when I go home. You’d figure with a (773) area code my phone would behave in its home city but no, stupid phone. A new phone is in order for Christmas.

Saturday I flew out of Chicago on South West *sigh*.

This flight wasn’t that bad though. No Chatty Cathy on the flight, no obnoxious children and I slept 95% of the flight. I still had my slight cold but I didn’t have Malaria when I arrived at IAD.

Then I fucking call work to get my schedule and why the fuck was I scheduled for that evening?!

You know I was pissed.

I was late that day. I had to get all the way from Dulles, unpack *oh you thought I wasn’t?*, and take another shower and then head back out the door.

Where I was literally bored to tears at work. We were less than 30% occupancy Saturday and Sunday and after 8 pm, no one came to the desk so I entertained myself with books, internet and magazines.

Sunday was TTL’s birthday but since he was in some weird little mood and wasn’t for going out to celebrate, after work I came home and crashed.

I’ve been in a weird funk since Monday. Just a perpetual state of depression. I’m better now but I’m not one who deals with death well. Another layer removed from the wall that I’ve put up.

I’ll get over it but it takes a while. Yes deep down I am a big cry baby. I think the people at work are going to start a collection to put me in a home because when I’m not sniffing because of my stopped up nose, I’m sniffing to avoid bursting out in tears which I have done quite a few times this week.

I’ve also been extra needy. If I’ve bombarded anyone with an obnoxious amount of texts, I’m sorry. It’ll pass.

*sigh*

But as this weekend approaches I am determined to get out and do something this weekend. I refuse to sit in the house this weekend watching the paint chip off the walls.

I’m going to put on my “Fuck ‘Em Girl” dress and heels and hit the streets.

For Trish :-)

My Very Normal Holiday Home...Pt 2

I don’t remember what I did Wednesday to be honest. I know I was woken out of my sleep quite rudely by my niece. Some point during the night, my brother and his family climbed from whatever trenches they were in and arrived back at the house.


Not to brag but my niece is so adorable! Of course she still has a receding hairline but I’m sure she’ll grow out of it *lol* but I guess anything is better than the two strings that I had as a baby that my mother always felt the need to slap a barrette in like those two strings needed grooming.

She’s 7 months now, crawling and she knows how to stand on her own. I don’t know if the standing then is normal for a baby her age but I was amazed. She can’t walk but she can stand on her own and does a little bounce like she want to walk but her chubby legs won’t move. I thought it was the cutest thing personally. She’s also going to be a chatterbox like her aunt because she woke me up with her babbling.

You know me I bummed around the neighborhood probably looking like a neighborhood hood rat because I was rocking the Hello Kitty PJ bottoms, a wife beater, a short jacket, hair scarf, and Jordans. Hey, screw that I wasn’t putting on an outfit to hit the Beauty Supply Store and Nick’s Gyros!

I had to give out lectures left and right. I felt bad laying into my cousins and my brother’s baby mother because they started crying but hey, some shit just need to be said: Keep your damn legs closed! Babies are not accessories! AIDS is fucking real and in the Black community, stop thinking that is a “gay disease” because your ignorance is showing!

I’m by no means a role model nor do I want to be a role model but two girls under the age of 21 should not have more children than me and I’m 23! They are not stupid girls, little misguided, but not dumb girls. But someone has to let them know because heaven knows what their warped ass little friends have told them because those little girls are chicken heads to the third degree.

I mean already their little bodies are sagging. At 16, 17, and 18 their bodies shouldn’t be rivaling a 40 year old who has had a hard life. I mean at 16 and 17 I personally didn’t have breasts, I mean I was barely filling out a B cup, but their breasts should not be falling into the arm pits without a bra, they shouldn’t be looking like two extra arms and shit. Stretch mark galore.

Ok I’m exaggerating. My pregnant cousin **who at 7 months looks as if she’s about to give birth any day now, I doubt she last to the middle of January as anticipated** and my brother’s baby mother at 5 months **I had to get on her extra hard about lacking in prenatal care because that just doesn’t make any sense, I just know my niece or nephew is going to come out mussing fingers and toes** is very small and have a decent figure for a mother of 2 ½, they don’t have bad stretch marks, but hell they have them!

We then went down to White Castle’s and stuffed our faces.

I love them girls with a fierceness I just don’t want them to fuck up their lives having all these children. They are not damn dogs, breeding every year and shit!
Then we’re coming back from White Castle’s and I ran into this dude I used to fuck with and man why did I fuck with him? No wonder he was an occasional nighttime creep because his face is not something that’s meant for the daytime.

But he did munch a fierce kitty though. I do remember that ;-)

He had the gall to ask me was I pregnant?! Um yeah any civil conversation went out the door. Granted I did eat 8 cheeseburgers by myself and I had the Buddha belly going on but shit two out of the four were pregnant and I was not one of the two!

Tried to be funny and rub on my stomach, you know I slapped his damn hand. for some reason I hate for people to rub on my stomach, I mean what the fuck, trying to jinx me or something? Besides it is annoying, I can relate to pregnant women who hate strangers to touch their protruding stomach, I mean damn I know I have a little pudge around the middle but geesh leave my stomach the fuck alone!

He invited me to some house party on the block but um yeah, if I wanted to catch a weed contact I would just go out in my hallway, which smells permanently of bud. Besides…me be seen with him…in the daytime?

Come on now…quit playing. Boo you were a nighttime creep for a reason. It must be the tongue ‘cuz it ain’t yo face…Tip Drill for real.

And I spent another Wednesday on the phone. A few of my friends tried to drag me out but I wasn’t in the club mood **Big Shock** and besides I wasn’t trying to run into anyone I didn’t like which seems to happens a lot when I go home like Chicago is a small town or something.

JBN drove to Chicago and I had to hear flack because my “bougie” ass took a plane instead of riding with my man. Um 10+ hours in a car listening to Jay Z is not my idea of a good time. Besides I get too anxious in a car because either I’m sleeping or fidgeting around.

I called him every two hours to get an update of his process and to have general chatter.

So far…family was normal. A little too normal.

I thought Thanksgiving would be it, back to dysfunctional family which embarrasses the shit out of me as they blurt out family secrets in front of our friends while we try to escape out the door while our friends’ mouth are gaping because it was revealed that a cousin’s father isn’t really his or her father and said aunt in question was a hoe back in the day but no one said another because it was common knowledge and such and such never did like her OR her potato salad, which is fighting words in my family, and there’s usually a square off with butter knives while one person threatens to slice another one…Or wait...Just my family right?

I was so wrong. And scared.

My Very Normal Holiday Home...Pt 1

**Excuse Me Guys For Taking Forever...Trish's death shook me up badly. I'm not a person who deal with death well but at least I know she's in a better place. That's the only comfort that I have right now. Who knew she would have such an impact on me? I know I'm a secret softie but I cried all day Sunday, folks at work were ready to jump out the window because they were convinced the world was over because I was crying. I heart you Trish. You are a great person with unimaginable strenth**

I think everyone **T, Nikki, Angel, Honey, Slump, Isis, MT and X said beautiful words about Trish, far better than I can express, so please check out their pages for wonderful dedications. Trish truly was loved in the blog world, won't be the same without her...

**pours out Kool-Aid in dedication to my girl**

I can only describe my vacation in Chicago as scary.

Scary because we had a normal holiday. No breakdowns, no drunken rants, or fistfights at the Bid Whist table…Nothing.

**shudder**

The calm before the storm I guess.

But still…my family acting…normal …on a holiday?! I’m sure the end is near.

Tuesday I left DC in a bad mood. Not only did I have to travel way to Dulles but also I was flying Southwest.

The Greyhound of the Skies.

A further reminder of why I avoid Southwest when possible: Went on the plane healthy, got off the plane with Ebola. Sneezing, coughing, nose stopped up, eyes bloodshot, just looking like the living dead. BUT I got on the plane looking like a diva.

Usually when I fly I cut my waiting time down to 30 minutes before my flight departs because I live five minutes from DCA and I’ve flown enough times in the year to detect a pattern with flying out of DCA. I’m the one running through the terminal with 10 minutes to spare before final boarding call.

Not at that trap called Dulles. Not only was the line long as shit to get my E-Ticket boarding pass which makes me wonder what’s the point of me getting an E-Ticket when I still have to wait in a long ass line in order to check my luggage, but the security line was long as shit and I would get stuck behind some old biddy who wanted to hold up the line because she wanted to debate with the guard on why she couldn’t bring this big ass bottle of lotion on the plane with her.

What was her old ass doing with that big of a bottle of lotion? Already was old as dirt but wanted to debate about some damn lotion. I mean damn did she not see the woman do the demonstration with the Ziploc bag?

So I asked her to move it along. Yes the hell I did. I asked her could she step to the fucking side so other people could make their damn flights because frankly I don’t give a fuck about that cheap ass lotion and neither the folks behind us.
After clutching her pearls and “Well I never!” while mumbling about “disrespectful youths’ she stepped her old ass to the side.

Pissed because I was going to sit around for an hour and a half doing absolutely nothing.

I forgot Southwest has an “open seating” policy where you can sit anywhere on the plane and they board by class A, B, or C. On a full flight if you are in Class C, you might be shit out of luck. Thankfully, I was in Class A.

Now the flight was uneventful even though one thing I was forced to share my row with a married couple. Why is it people make a personal note to sit next to me on half-full vehicles? I mean it never fails…half-empty Metro train, guaranteed someone would sit next to me like there is not 20 other empty seats he or she could sit at. And always want to make conversation.

It could be worst I guess. I could get the stinky people.

So the flight was half-empty **I’m guess I’m the type of person who sees life as half-empty** and of these morons wanted to sit next to me and half talk me to death. I mean I just hate dumb questions. I mean how many times could you comment on the weather?

So you know me…IPOD went in the ears cutting off any mindless chatter.

Oh but no…the girl behind me wanted to talk this dude to death THE ENTIRE FLIGHT! I was so mad! Not only was her irritating voice filtering through my headphones but also she was a complete air head! I had the IPOD up almost to capacity, which of course gave me a headache, so I had to cut it off. And she just talked and talked and talked. Bitch just would not shut the fuck up!

Why didn’t I move? Well because I was in the area of the plane that I liked and I refused to move up because I would’ve been near the wing and engine, which are no-no areas for me. Um yeah, the back of the plane is usually left in a crash but are the wings? My point exactly. And there were hollering kids in the front. You know I don’t do kids on a flight.

Now the whole time she’s talking to this guy, he was a cute Black guy but he had a California Surfer accent, which turned me off, and I LOVE accents, I’m assuming she’s a white girl trying to join the Mile High Club with a brother. I mean I never turned around because I know if I did, the plane would have landed and I’ve probably would’ve received the boot.

I mean chick was just annoying, I think she was talking to hear her own voice because, honestly, what guy is interested in a 45 minute discussion on how your curly hair “fits” your personality and the “agonizing” rituals you go through to straighten it? I mean seriously? Who gives a fuck?

So I’m annoyed at the “white girl” who just kept chattering.

When we landed at Midway she finally shut the hell up and I was anxious to get off the plane, I was ready to mow folks down to get off the damn plane.

Stood up and turned around…Why was Chatty Cathy a Black Girl?!

I was too through especially since I remember earlier in their conversation she was talking about how she attends Georgetown and dude went to Howard and she had the nerve to twist her little mouth and ask what was Howard?

It was really an afterthought because hell, I know many white people who know what Howard is but do not know where it is at…And they live in DC. I don’t expect most White people to keep up with HBCUs but I wanted to slap this Black girl who claimed she didn’t know what Howard was…she actually had the nerve to ask was it a junior college?!

Damn I don’t expect everyone to know every single HBCU but to not know Howard?! Come on now seriously?! I pray she was playing “dumb female” role in order to continue the conversation. Live in DC, go to Georgetown…Yet don’t know about Howard?
Yeah right.

Then I found out Southwest is seriously crazy. My flight, although it stopped in Chicago, its last destination was San Diego. People who were getting off in Chicago got off the plane, otherwise everyone else stayed on the plane. Therefore, if I slept during the flight and I didn’t wake up, I’d end up in San Diego since they don’t announce shit. If you’re still on the plane, they assume you’re going to San Diego.

Gotta love Southwest huh. Lazy ass flight attendant. They don’t even wear uniforms! A guy offered me a drink and I had to think about it because he didn’t have on a uniform, I’m looking at him like, “Are you the flight attendant? I mean I don’t be just accepting drinks from strangers” until I saw the name tag. I mean damn someone could drug a person on the flight and shit. Wake up bound and gagged in the bathroom or something.

I’m like damn get a uniform or at least everyone wear the same shirt or something. Old girl working in some low-rise jeans and a sparkle top.

I came home to silence. No one was home. In fact, no one came home at all Tuesday. My mother was at work, my brother and baby mother was nowhere in sight and the kids were gone.

So I relished in the silence. Talked on the phone with Jules, my cousin, my godson’s mother and DH. It’s funny everyone calls me like they know I’m in town.

Enter JDUBB. Of course, I knew his radar would go off. He just texted me some nonsense, mainly inquiring about my upcoming nuptials.

Even had the nerve to ask did I think of “us” in that way once upon a time, as if I still thought of him in a romantic way. Maybe in high school I might have thought about him becoming my future husband…but umm yeah his craziness sorta canceled that out.

So you know me, being a total bitch, I laughed. Yeah right as if I would want to marry him of all people. So I could end up shackled in the basement?

To be nothing but evil because I didn’t want to talk to him and sometimes I really think about changing my number since it’s been the same for the past three years so folks could leave me alone, I invited him to the wedding.

He texted that I was still a bitch and the conversation was over.

Funny how that was the most dramatic thing that happened while I was at home.

Weekend Round-Up....

Finally the slow period in the hospitality industry has emerged!

While everyone else grumbles, I am breathing a sigh of relief.

I just worked this weekend and I am off for the remainder of the week. I leave Tuesday night for Chicago and I am so excited. I’m excited like I just didn’t go home a few months ago.

Friday my mother and I are having an “All Girls Day”. Plus I just found out I have Hello Kitty pajamas waiting for me when I arrive. **Dance of Glee** My mother still spoils me as much as she hates to admit it.

Of course I have yet to pack. You know I have to pack shoes, purses, accessories, back up outfits…You know the basic essentials, plus I have to check luggage because I am not throwing out my deodorant, toothpaste, and perfumes.

Trust I am by no means a terrorists and as much as I hate flying, the last thing I am trying to do is bring a plane down. I will be the one clawing off the emergency exit doors in a haste to jump off the plane in that event. And yes I’m aware that I would probably freeze to death jumping off of a plane at such high altitudes…But I’ll take my chances.

Let it be known: I am not a hero.

I finally called my father and what a surprise, he didn’t want anything substantial. He always joke that he’s calling to see if I’m alive but I’m sure if I wasn’t someone would inform him that his only child has departed the earth, right? I mean I know my mother is good for it. And I know him. He’ll phone stalk me for a week for a dry five minute conversation, like I would really tell him personal things from my life. All he need to know is that I’m alive and well, I’m working, and JBN and I are fine.

I went out Friday bowling with TTL and I whooped his ass something lovely. Beat that ass like he stole something. All the shit talking weeks prior and once I got on those lanes…It was a wrap. I felt a little bad whooping him up, especially in front of all these kids, but it was necessary. Yeah he whooped me up in a game of bones and Mario Brothers before, but hey I was rusty.

I don’t like sports BUT I can bowl and ice skate my chocolate ass off. Now I’m not Michelle Kwan on the ice but I went ice skating weekly with a girl on my floor named Lisa freshman year. After falling on my ass a couple thousand times, I finally got the hang of it.

I’ve been bowling since ten. Most of my family is bowlers so naturally that was one of many Saturday morning activities I was in as a child besides the academic ones my mother dragged me too. I finally lost interest in bowling at 16 but I’m still damn good on the lanes.

I think he gave up after the first game since I beat the shit out of him that first game and he stopped trying as much but oh well I had fun. We were out in Maryland so you know I had to keep a side eye on my purse and shit, I wasn’t trying to beat some ass in the parking lot for someone trying to walk out the door with my purse.

So I’m gloating right now. I mean hey, nothing personal, I just had to spank that booty right quick to cease all the prior shit talking. That humble pie tastes so good right now, isn’t it?

Never underestimate me.

And come on now, you really didn’t think I wasn’t going to announce your defeat?

This is me you’re talking about.

Saturday I had to work so I didn’t go out after work although I should have but I was literally bored to tears at work so when I went home I put on my PJs, popped a bag of popcorn and watch The History’s Channel “History of Sex” documentary.

Very interesting documentary, folks should check it out. And yes it was a real documentary!

Eventually I went to sleep during the middle of the program.

I should’ve gone out, that’s what I should have done, and I’m starting to turn into a homebody. I can’t have that.

I’m checking my email at work when I get a personal email from some ass wipe named NUBIAN PRINCE. How hilarious is that? Nubian Prince these nuts in your mouth.

According to this lame ass bastard who decided to crawl out from whatever rock he’s been hiding under to send me a personal email to “tell” me about myself. According to this ass wipe I sound like a whore and I'm what wrong with Black women today. Women like me makes him sick and who in the right mind would want to marry me, sucks for the poor guy who wants to marry a whore, and we'll end up divorce court. I should be ashamed of myself for acting like this and I am a waste of space apparently.

My reply: Fuck you dude, go play in traffic. Shit you don’t like what I say, get the fuck in line. I think you’re number 8,765 please wait your turn. I mean damn did I reject you or something? Dude you mad because I didn't give you some of this whorish pussy, which by the way taste like candy, but you'd probably never know since the only vagina you've probably touched was your mama's. You should like a nigga who can't get it up, fucking punk. Shit is this JDUBB? Nigga is that you? Sounds like something your weak ass would say. Nigga you’ve always been a hater, you can lick the bottom of my right ass cheek if that’s how you feel. You're probably someone I teased in elementary school who’s dating a white girl right now because of all the “pain” and “trauma” us poor black girls put you through so you had to run and get validation from a white woman. Men like you make me sick, get a sense of humor and get the stick out your ass. Pussy.

But….As always thanks for stopping by *insert cheerful smile*

I’m not going to proclaim I’m the most likable person in the world, because I’m not, in fact I have the reputation as being “mean”. But whatever. Don’t like what I write, stay the hell off of my blog, I’ll write what I want whenever I want.

So while I was rather amused to find this personal email in my inbox, it stung a little. Me a whore? Baby I don’t like sucking dick that much to be a whore.

My niece is getting so big! I heard her in the background babbling her baby talk. She is such a happy baby, I’m serious, and everything makes her smile. Or maybe that’s gas? But she grins at everything. Pretty easy baby if you ask me. And when I go to sleep, she goes to sleep.

How grand is that?

I’m still mad her mother is about to drop her third baby and she’s 18 but we’ll discuss all that good stuff when I go home.

*sigh* I’m flying out of Dulles on Southwest. Hopefully I won’t have to kill anyone. I hate flying out of Dulles but I get what I pay for huh? At least I’m coming in at Midway which is 10 minutes from my mother’s house. Unlike DC, you know you live near an airport. I live literally blocks from DCA and aside from the occasional helicopter, I rarely hear the planes. But I sleep like the dead anyway.

I guess I’ll drag the suitcases out tonight. Who am I kidding, Tuesday morning, I’ll pack.

Tag: IPOD of Your Life

I swiped this from L who finally decided to come back to the blogging world *Missed Ya* and it’s pretty fun actually

1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool...

Opening Credits: "Sexyback" Justin Timberlake *I swear this popped on!*

Waking Up: "It Seems Like You’re Ready" R. Kelly *Oooh AM Nookie*

First Day At School: "Senorita" Justin Timberlake *Um well Spanish is taught in schools..right?*

Falling In Love: "Holla Back Girl" Gwen Stefani *LOL*

Fight Song: "Wait “Remix" Ying Yang Twins, Free, Busta, Lil’ Scrappy, Missy *Wait…Til I Get These Earrings Off…*lol*

Breaking Up: "Next To You" Ciara *Whoa, def. NOT a break up song!*


Prom: "Last Night" Justin Timberlake *I sure have a lot of JT on my I-Pod*

Life is good: "If I Was a Rich Girl" Lady Saw *LOL*

Mental Breakdown: "All Her Love" Donnell Jones *Touches me on so many levels*

Driving: "Gone” N’Sync *LOL see L told you I had a N’Sync lurking…*

Flashback: "Yeah” Usher *My shit, especially the lil booty dance in the video*

Getting Back Together: "Dis Bitch Dat Hoe” Project Pat *LMAO*

Wedding: "We Be Burning" Sean Paul *Umm I hope not…don’t they test you for that?*

Birth of Child: "Where I Wanna Be” Donnell Jones *Aww….*

Final Battle: "SexyBack Remix” Justin Timberlake f. The Clipse *Umm ok I need to get some JT off the ‘Pod*

Funeral Song: "Chop Me Up” Justin Timberlake f. Timbaland and Thee 6 Mafia *Eww I hope not…Whose gonna fall out on my casket?*

End Credits: "Somebody Somebody’s” Christina Aguilera *It Does Feel Good to be that doesn’t it?*


Hey This Was Fun And Short!!!!

You Can Add A New "Look" To The Books...

Yesterday, among other things, I found out that I have yet another “look” about me.

In addition to the infamous “I look like I don’t suck good dick” and the oh so charming “I look like I’m a cheater”, I now, in addition to these wonderful looks, “I Am a Fuck ‘Em and Leave “Em” type of gal.

Oh the joy, I can go home and tell my family over dinner how they have a raised a chick who does not suck good dick but will cheat on every man she deals with because I’m a fuck ‘em and leave ‘em gal.

Can you imagine the looks of joy on their face? While other parents are boasting of their child’s Master degree in business or an impending marriage, my mother could proudly say, “Well my daughter looks like she sucks bad dick…but she can do that cuz’ my baby girl fuck ‘em and leave ‘em.”

**clap clap**

You think they’ll put that in the church announcements?

Once again, what the fuck does that look, well, looks like? I mean how do you look like you suck a bad dick? In fact, what the hell does a cheater “look” like? Doesn’t everyone have that potential?

I mean it’s not like I’m exactly insulted, I mean I don’t want the “dick sucker” look, whatever the hell that is, I mean I don’t want to look like I’m a straight professional at it, like I studied it extensively in school. You know, sitting front row in Don’t Forget the Balls, They Need Love Too 201, writing a paper on Famous Dicks Suckers in American History and how they benefited and shit. Like what did Betsy Ross really do to get the so-called job of stitching the American Flag?

Umm no. Not. Me.

While other girls were trading blowjob secrets in the locker room, you know how to get a pair of Jordans out a dude with a good blowjob, I was actually studying.

Now that I think about it maybe that’s my fault.

I should’ve been taking notes.

I know they’ve moved on up. Shit my student loan could have been paid and all it would’ve taken was a little more slob on the knob. I could be pushing a Honda Civic right now.

*lol*

Yesterday I was trying *and failing* to take a nap because folks just kept calling. It’s been so long since I’ve taken my 3-5p nap, you know since I’m slaving on the night shift and all, that folks must have lost their damn minds.

It seems like everyone and his or her mama wanted to give me a ring yesterday. It’s bad enough I went to sleep during Top Model, shit I don’t think I got half way through the program, but don’t call with foolishness.

I think I hung up on two people because they called the house phone and asked was I at home?

*CLICK*

I don’t even know who the callers were but they got the dial tone.

My mother called, honestly, I don’t know what she said because I was nodding in and out of the conversation.

And then DRAMA decided to call. I mean I had been meaning to return her phone calls from a few weeks ago but hey I am notoriously bad at returning phone calls. Texts? Yes. Phone calls? No.

Actually, I have not been returning her phone calls because she has been bugging me to attend NBA All-Stars Weekend in Vegas this February. I’m all for a trip to Vegas but not to be a groupie.

I’m not interested in sports. Period. I have even less of an interest in the sport that is basketball. The last time I was really into basketball, BJ Armstrong was still playing for the Bulls. Yeah it has been that long. I barely know teams names/cities let alone majority of the players’ names so why in the hell would I want to be a groupie to men I don’t even know and can give a flying fuck about?

She doesn’t see the logic though. She just want to be a hot ass and I’m not trying to end up in some dude’s suite with my asshole blown out and covered in semen and Grey Goose.

So my decline has been ignored.

She called once again to push me to join her and some friends for the festivities. Again, not interested. A sport event does not interest me and I’d more likely gamble my life away than try to kick it with the stars. Not a bad idea to just go and have fun but I’m sure that entire weekend will be dedicated to the celebrities and besides, I’m not going to be Captain Save A Hoe all weekend.

So while I’m half listening and slowly losing consciousness trying to drift back into slumber land while she is giving me crazy ass reasons on why I should come along for the ride, like I can’t get fucked by some random man in DC, she hits me with the “fuck ‘em and leave ‘em” line.

According to her, that is how I developed my stalkers because I detach my vagina from body and apparently, I can just screw a man and not think too much into it. Since most men aren’t used to that, apparently that makes them sweat me more since they are used to their dick being dipped in gold by females. My disinterest in starting a relationship thus creates this intense urge to be around me. You know since it’s part of my “game” strategy and all. Yeah like I run game like this so I can have a man follow me to the mall on the bus.

Bitch be watching too much Oprah and Dr. Phil.

Perfect for All-Stars Weekend.

I mean I look like the type of chick that likes to have “no strings attached” sex. Apparently, this is a good look, as I will not try to trap some big head ass star with a baby. Um yeah, I guess she didn’t get the memo about pregnancy and me.

The stupidest shit I have ever heard in my life but it is not the first time I have heard that. I mean I’m not some cold-hearted person. I enjoy sex. I enjoy it a lot. However, I’m not stuck in some dream world. My vagina is not the “be all end all” nor do I expect to “trap” men by giving them a little bit of the goodness. I don’t think that every man I fuck should bow down to me because I gave him some pussy, although it would be nice *lol*. And I’m not the chick who uses my pussy to get shit.

Yeah I can fuck a nigga, put my shit on and leave like it’s nothing, I mean what the fuck, am I suppose to cuddle or something? And hey when I’m done with him, shit I’m done. I’m not in the business of sweating people. Especially sweating a man over a dick. It is not that serious. I don’t think I’m a “fuck ‘em and leave ‘em” but I do think if a male can be so nonchalant about sex, why can’t I? Men could fuck a dozen women and don’t get their “feelings” all into it. Why am I a “fuck ‘em and leave ‘em” because I don’t add my feelings all up in the mix?

But more fucked up, why do I even have this “look”? Once again, what “look” do these types of people have?

Damn with “looks” like these, how do I manage to keep a man? I mean seriously, how do I get a man?

Must be the smile.

Before I let her meet my two friends, DIAL and TONE, because quite frankly I was tired of her chattering and I was getting agitated because my slumber was disturbed, I had to let her know a few all of this plus a few other colorful terms.

DRAMA is always trying to be on groupie status and shit. Excuse me if we’re not on the same shit in life and I can separate my vagina from my brain.

And then she met my two friends.

You would think with as much sleep as I received the night before I would roll out the bed bright and early right? Please, I went to sleep at 3am and woke up just before noon. And I still was dragging my ass.

Then a nice little downpour upset my plans for a great day. No wait, the fucking idiot who splashed with me rainwater ruined my day.

Now it wasn’t raining hard when I got on the train at Crystal City so why the hell when I got off the train 10 minutes later at Rosslyn, it was Noah’s Ark outside? Luckily I did have my umbrella and I’m not stupid, the hair was wrapped up. One drop of water and I’m sporting an afro to work.

It was pouring out. Within seconds from the knees down, pants, Chucks and socks were soaked. Looked like I was swimming with my clothes on. Usually not a bad look but um yeah I wasn’t going for the wet t-shirt look together.

Although….birth control sure has made my breasts grow. I’m serious. They look much bigger than a month ago *lol* Let me find out I can fit into a 36B….it’ll be on and popping *lol*

So I’m waiting at the corner shivering under my big ass umbrella when this SUV comes out of nowhere and splashes the shit out of me. You know I was pissed. Got in my fucking face and everything, leaves sticking to my coat and shit.

I hope his or her wheels falls the fuck off.

Bastard.

I think people get some type of sick enjoyment splashing people, I mean why the fuck were he/she so close to the fucking curb and wasn’t making a turn? Probably was some racist white person.

So to the fucker who splashed me: FUCK YOU!

Let some of that nasty ass water had hit my hair. I would’ve chased that car down Terminator 2 style and fucked that person up at the next traffic light.
So as my socks and shoes dry, old school style, on the heater, I am left pondering about my “looks”.

But then when I sit and think about it, it could be worse.

I could look like LaToya Jackson.

I Really Need A Nap...

*sigh*

I am so…restless.

I’m also tired, but what else is new?

I can’t wait until next week when I go home for Thanksgiving. I can smell the arguments brewing from here. Ah yes, another Thanksgiving of drunken rants, arguments, revelations, and all that good stuff.

I am so glad that my cooking skills are legendary within the family so my lazy ass can sit back and watch TV while the ladies run around the kitchen cooking and arguing over who is going to cook what because you know everyone can’t cook certain dishes.

And are quick to let you know your limitations.

I already am itching to get at my brother’s shiftless ass. I am honestly tired of him and his shit. And his baby mama? Now she’s a sweet girl and all, I don’t have any beef with her besides her extremely fertile ass about to have another baby and her second child isn’t even walking yet, but Ima have to let her know the same rules apply to her.

It’s bad enough my poor niece or nephew will probably be born with seven fingers and toes or at worst fetal alcohol syndrome due to her logic that she since she was going to get an abortion anyway she might as well smoke and drink all she can during the first trimester because she at the time wasn’t going to keep the baby, but um yeah how long do you think you have for an abortion? Like you’re going to waddle into the clinic, like “I know I know I’m due in 2 weeks but I decided not to keep it” and the doctor will just tell you to strip and do the procedure.

I also promised myself that I won’t slap the taste out of my cousin’s mouth even though she deserves it. It’s amazing how we grew up so close only to grow apart as we got older. I mean we were tight as shit as shorties but as we grew up and got into different things we drifted apart.

Eventually I got tired of all the bull shit and cut her off on a friendship level. I told her if it’s something serious and/or family related we can talk but as far as chatting on a friendly level, holla back! It’s bad enough when a “friend” stabs you in the back but family? That shit hurts! I ignored it for as long as I could, not taking friends’ word about how foul she was, until I caught the heifer and she was cut off.

We’re both in our 20s. Born exactly a year and 5 days apart. Hell we had so many joint birthdays, we damn near didn’t know our real birthdates! At least I’ve grown up somewhat while she’s still stuck in high school mode.

But it’s all good. I plan on relaxing while I’m at home…and hiding out from SIGMA. T. CAS showed me how to block people and place my status as permanently offline the other day and so far no “offline” messages have been waiting for me. Of course this doesn’t stop the texts but at least I can stop “hiding” my status on Yahoo *lol*

Friday JBN and I got into it, kinda rare for us, and I threw some clothes on and went down the street to TTL’s place. That little fucker pissed me off!

Over some damn tacos! The whole point of the argument was don’t wait for me, get it yourself! One thing that I absolutely hate about him is that he would sit on his ass in the living room and wait until I go to the kitchen or another room and begin to beg for shit. Never mind the kitchen is like 5 steps from the living room, he’ll sit and wait and say some shit like, “I thought you’d never come out of the [insert room]…Can I have some…”

What the fuck was your lazy ass doing the whole time? Oh so you’re just going to wait until I make a move to ask for some shit?

Oh hell naw. So when he asked for a second helping of tacos using the bullshit “But baby I love the way you make them” like it’s some art to slapping some meat into a taco shell and adding the toppings, I said “hell fucking no” and it was on.

We must have argued close to an hour about the issue and in the end…he still didn’t get the fucking tacos. Old lazy bastard. That’s like me sitting on the couch and when you walk by asking you to hand me the remote control on the coffee table in front of me and get mad when you say “no”. So I’m just going to sit there watching a channel I don’t want to watch until you come in the room and personally hand me the remote so I can change channels?

Shit my name is not “Hazel” and I just because I’m mixed with Negro and Slave does not mean I am one!

So during the course of the argument I asked him was he just going to sit around waiting until I eventually came out the room and like an idiot he said “yes”.

*sigh* He irks my fucking nerves sometimes!

Then we had an argument over who was going to leave out the house first and shit since our tempers were both at the explosive level and I knew I would throw some shit at him in a heartbeat and he kinda had this look like “I wish you were a nigga so I could punch you” and I’m rocking the “If you feeling froggy then leap motherfucker leap because only one of us would leave out this door walking” look so we’re at the door opening and slamming the door. Like fucking idiots. Neighbors peeking out their doors and shit.

Fuck yall looking at?

As I walked down the hall I screamed at him not to wait up for me because my ass is going out and I’m never coming back. He was like “well I’ll lock you out”. Yeah aiight. Lock me out if you want to. I’d fuck around and burn the apartment building to the ground. Ain’t gonna be no doors when I get done with this building.

But whatever. I stayed out all night and came home, this punk was knocked out. We didn’t speak to one another in the morning but I know him and later on he started calling “wanting to talk” aka “be nosy”. He met the dial tone.

Yeah I’m childish and petty but shit I refuse to be the bigger person besides I wasn’t mad anymore; I just wanted to piss him off. But it’s all good by Saturday night we were wrestling on the floor like idiots. Our arguments never last long.

Today I broke my neck running out the door at work. We’re oversold so that means we have to “walk” people to other hotels which is never pretty. I’m glad I switched for a day shift. I refuse to work on nights like this because tempers are high and I might reach over the counter and slap the daylights out of some people. I mean I can’t blame them, I would be pissed in the same situation, but arguing about it is not going to produce a room. Overbooked is overbooked. Sorry. Usually we “walk” people to “better” hotels anyway especially since our cable has been out for the past day or so and we know how folks get when a TV does not have cable.

*sigh*

Since I played hooky from work on Sunday, yes my black ass did not go in and I did not call either shit I was tired, killing part I did not get in trouble. No write up, nothing. My immaculate attendance speaks for itself. That’s my trump card right there. I decided, since I was bored and they were on my mind, to call and talk to two of my younger cousins, one whom is about to have her second baby, a boy this time, in January. Let’s not get on the fact that her daughter will just turn one in January as well.

Yeah another person who just couldn’t wait that six weeks.

I talk gutter to them because, well, I know that’s the only way they will understand the situation they’re in. One is 17 and I just found out she’s already fucking, I did give her some type of credit at least she is just starting rather than all up in the midst of “doing the dew”, and the other,18, knocked up with baby number 2.

I swear it’s something in Lake Michigan’s water besides bacteria and dead bodies. Remind me to take not a sip of that water when I go home. Nigga might breathe on me and I get pregnant. Like “Fuck them Birth Control Pills” I got that Shaka Zulu breathe that be slicing and dicing the eggs in my fallopian tubes and shit. Might fuck around and have triplets by a nigga I don’t even know!

Babies come out with blue eyes and shit. That’ll be a hard one to explain in the delivery room. I think I'd be more stunned than anyone, like "Who is yall daddy?" Gotta sit and think who breathe on me during that two-three week window and shit. I’d be on Maury like, “I really don’t know who breathed on me that day. For real, see what had happened was...I work in a hotel…” then I can do the dramatic run and collapse as he announce that JBN is not the father *duh* of my blue-eyed babies. But of course you know I gotta dry the tears when he ease in that “So…do you have anyone else in mind that could be the fathers of your babies…”

*sniff sniff* Yeaaahhh

*lol*

Ok back to the subject at hand…

I watch these two girls grow up and to see them in the nonchalant state just works me in a frenzy. Yeah I wasn’t perfect as a teen. I did my share of sneaking out to be up under my no-good ex and then crazy ass JDUBB, I had sex at an early age, but geesh I wasn’t fucking stupid. Dick was not coming near this vagina without that plastic on it.

I asked this little heifer while she’s out fucking I hope she’s looking at her older sisters and will take note of their situation and I hope to Gawd she is using protection.

Dead ass silence on the second part.

Then she hits me with the oldest line in the fucking book:

“Well he said that the condoms be too tight and I mean besides…we pull out.”

I slapped my own fucking forehead. Is this heifer serious?!

Oh but she was. Serious ass tone and everything.

You know I cursed her out right? Silly ass. Damn that, did I not tell her not even a year ago the shit dudes will say to convince you to not make them wear a condom? I could’ve sworn I said it because I was there when I said it.

She’s lucky Family Guy was coming on otherwise I really would’ve gotten in that ass…but it’s cool. I’ll be home Tuesday night. She lives three blocks from us. Oh yes I will be making a house call.

I’m just trying to save my baby cousins from being a statistic. Ok well even more of a statistic than what they are already considered in society. I don’t want them to walk down that same path I see so many women on my block traveling down. It ain’t shit cute about walking down the street in some booty shorts pushing a baby stroller, talking about “I’m looking for a baller nigga!”

I refuse to see them go out like that. I’ll be that nagging ass older cousin who’s not “fun” anymore. Doesn’t bother me. You won’t see me strapped down with a baby though. I can go anywhere I please without looking for a baby sitter I know that much. My titties are still nice and firm sitting up lovely in the push up bra. My bra ain’t coming off and my tits are droppin’ down and gettin’ their eagle on. I don’t have road maps all up and around my stomach. I can still dress fly without having to worry about buying the baby clothes, diapers, and formula.

Better yet I know I wouldn’t have to chase my baby’s father down in the street for some type of support. I ain’t fighting his new girlfriend outside because I’m mad he dumped me for her.

Fuck that. I’m in the business of dropping babies off on the doorsteps and pulling off when the door opens. Oh I’ll be back…in a few days. See you wouldn’t come to me and bring me diapers so I brought the diapers and the baby to you.

But no flipping out when I go home. Just my usual straight gutter talk and “close the door on your way out...yeah I’ll be that but you can’t say that to my face *pause* Yeah I thought so…” while I eat smother pork chops and banana pudding.

I think I’m going to ask for anger management classes for Christmas. And no note taking this time.

Someone Help Me Understand....

Why do I bother to take phone calls during my break? Why?

As usual I’m stuck at work, I can offically kiss my Nip/Tuck season good bye. It’s official. Another season wasted due to work *sigh* TiVo is on my Christmas List this year.

So I’m at work, tolling away like a slave, it seems like today is one of those “If You Got Beef With Something, Please Step Over In LaToya’s Line” days.

For the last time there is a difference between a “request” and a “guarantee”! I hate when we run short on a specific bed type because I hear it all damn night. Look get these keys and please get out of my face. Yeah we could debate on it but what will it solve? Nothing. I mean my ass is big and all but I can’t pull a King size bed outta my ass, if we ain’t got it, we ain’t got it. Oh you’ll never stay here again, damn so sad, don’t let the revolving doors hit you on the way out.

I don’t have the patience. Mama Dukes called me again today asking could she have some money. Now I’ll do anything for my mother, I’ll give her my all but when she said it’s because my niece needs diapers, the record screeched to a stop.

Repeate por favor?

It’s bad enough my mother is taking care of my brother’s so called grown ass,, his baby mama, her daughter, my nephew who lives in Minnesota with his trifling ass mother, and my niece. I bite my lip way more than I should on the issue because I can talk until I’m blue in the face and nothing will change.

Every time I go home I tremble in anger at the sheer laziness of these Negros. Oh they hate to see me walk through the door because I stay bitching. I bitch from the beginning to the end of my visit, I know they’re glad when I walk through the door to leave. I just can’t stand the mooching!

Get a fucking job! What type of man are you if your mother has to buy your child diapers? Fucking diapers?

They drain my mother physically and financially so it’s nothing for her to call me every couple of months for some money until she gets paid. So like a good daughter, I had to run to find a Western Union *there’s not a lot here in DC or a Currency Exchange* so I can wire her some money.

My mother’s funny talking about send her $20. Umm with the fees that’s easily like $50 to send her the $20. I just send her $100.

But the shit pisses me off. I can’t blame that lazy shit of a brother all the time *well actually I can, stop fucking making babies you can’t take care of* but I blame my mother and you know I had to let Mama Dukes know a few things.

If your lazy excuse of a son and his girlfriend don’t want to lift a finger, kick their mooching asses to the curb! I love my baby brother to death but let’s face it; he’s a sorry ass motherfucker. I’ve told him *and her* time and time again to stop taking advantage of my mother. Shit she’s done raising us! So why is she raising your kids?

The shit just burns me up. I know he’s her youngest and all, but fuck that! Speaking like the jealous oldest that I am, had that been me…

Had that been fucking me…

Yeah aiight. He has it sweet. You mean no job, just lay around the house all day, running the streets? You mean baby moms can stay in the crib and act like yall married? You mean shit built in baby sitter? So what if our mother comes in from work tired as shit, I’m going to drop a fussy baby and a sassy toddler on her lap while I rip and run the streets AND throw a fit when I have to watch the kids I laid down to have?

I tell my mother to toss him out on his ass all the time. Fuck that, let him see the real world, shit you can keep the babies no need for them to suffer, but them grown mooching bastards? Give them the two fingers as the door slam on their asses.

I was too heated, so I’m giving my mother my two cents on the situation and who do I hear yakking in the background?

My cousin. The one who I rumbled with when I came home because the bitch knocked my engagement ring down the drain and we had to rumble like two bitches on a side street.

She lives upstairs from my mother and is always downstairs not minding her own business.

Ear hustling bitch has to put her two cents in of course, you defending my brother because that’s just how she is, you know oppose the opposite just because she thinks it makes her seem smart, so I tell her to shut the hell up.

*My mother and I are on speaker phone by this point so my mother could cook for these lazy bastards. Talking about them like they’re not in the house, that’s how my moms do, and I know my brother wants to say some shit but I’m daring him to. Bitch I’m across state lines buying diapers for your baby I dare you to twist them lips…shit wasting my lunch break for his ass. Because he know if he had called he know my answer would have been “Hell Fucking NO. Ger a fucking job!” Shit I don’t have any kids so why am I taking care of one? I love my niece and nephew to death but they are not my responsibility, especially when they have able bodied parents. But I feel bad at the same time because shit they are my babies.*

So you know we get into it right? I mean mind your fucking business this is between my mother and me!

So she goes on this tirade talking about I hate my brother, I always have something negative to say nothing positive *well when he does something positive I will say something* and I’m just a hater.

**cricket chirps**

Hater? What exactly am I hating on again?

So I start laughing. Bitch is you serious? Hating? Me?

Apparently I’m hating because my brother is my mother’s favorite thus it irks me that he gets away with bloody murder AND I’m hating because my brother has children and I don’t. Something must be wrong with “my insides” *insert her evil chuckle here* or I’ve just had hella abortions so my uterus is looking like dog food right now.

**YAWN**

Let’s come up with some better insults please. I don’t have children by choice. It’s called Birth Control! You know, there’s these little pills out, you know they’ve been out for a minute now, that supposedly prevents pregnancy and guess what…the shit actually works?! I know, get the fuck out of here!

I told her just because I don’t have a baby by every man who I cock my legs open to show how much I “love” them doesn’t make me anything but smart. Sorry if my titties ain’t dragging the floor and I don’t have more road maps going across my stomach than a map. I mean damn does having a baby prove you’re a real woman or grown or something? Get that warped ass “hood” mentality out of here. And trust if my insides were bad I could adopt bitch!

Yeah we were getting greasy on the phone, eventually my mother had to kick her out so we could finish talking. Yeah I’m in the line at Giant’s getting greasy on the phone. I was kinda embarrassed. Usually I don’t act sooo….ghetto in public. Well sometimes I do but usually not on the phone and not while in line buying something. I mean folks heard our conversation because she was on speakerphone as well, but whatever.

Fuck yall looking at?

My mother was too busy chuckling she told us we both need to take a chill pill because we’re acting too wild. Fuck that. We’ll see how big she’s talking at Thanksgiving. No wait, no fighting this time. I’m going to be the bigger person. Besides I cut up once at my grandmother’s, I’m not making that a regular family thing.

So I’m a little agitated at work right now.

On a cheerful note, whiny girl is moving back to North Carolina at the end of the week. Good riddance. You know I’m dancing for job. Folks talking about “A going away party”. I’m like shit I won’t be attending, lying bitch. Count me the fuck out.

Apparently DEE didn’t like his name, too plain and not descriptive at all. I wasn’t aware my alias were descriptive, I just give folks a name that my ass can remember *lol* so instead of DEE, which I thought was a strong Negro name, I’m naming you TTL. Don’t ask what it means because I’m not telling ya.

But do know it’s your exotic dancer name should you chose to give up your job and become an exotic dancer. I expect my 35% under the table please. Crisp bills only.

I also talked to T. Cas *finally lol* online Monday. For once he wasn’t hiding out, and of course you know I was. When will this man get the clue and just leave me alone. Is it really that serious? I mean should I get my “Platinum Puss” t-shirt ready, complete with the glitter and crown?

Damn the more you treat someone like shit, the more they come back. I mean damn do he like the abuse or something?

On a serious note, Trish ain’t doing well yall.

Not doing well at all.

I won’t lie I was crying last night when he told me *but don’t tell Trish yall know I have a reputation to keep* but ma girl is just not shaking that cold. The doctors are talking the worse. I talked to her online yesterday for a few, I’m happy to report she has not been molested by an over eager orderly, you know a guy who’s a little too eager to give my girl a sponge bath, but this shit is blowing me.

Life is short. Real fucking short. I try to live life to the fullest but shit I have to face the facts: someday it will be my turn. And I am terrified. I can’t even imagine what is going through her head right now.

I hate to see anyone suffer, especially someone like Trish, the sweetest person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, going through what she’s going through. I can’t even express it in words.

I know she’s probably going to yell at me *I heart you honey all the same* but I welcome it. I try to keep an upbeat façade going on, we’re talking about everything BUT that, but shit it’s hard. I want to ask her a dozen questions, but I can’t. And I’m sure she doesn’t want to keep answering the same questions she probably get a dozen and a half times a day. I want to wake up and get the good news that all of the cancer is gone, a miracle, see her face on CNN or something, but right now…not going to happen.

Sometimes I wonder how God operates. Why do bad things happen to good people? Did he get the name wrong? Maybe there’s another person out there with her name, I’m sure he gets His children’s’ names mixed up, hey sometimes my mom calls me “hey what’s your face” and she only has two children! Maybe he meant for this to happen to another Trish somewhere out there in the world and He’ll realize his mistake before it’s too late.

I hate to be one of the people who don’t go to church and only call on God when I need something or want a favor. Because I do. Let’s not get on the time when my face is in the toilet, heart racing, room spinning and I’m praying to God that if He lets me make it through this I will never take another shot of alcohol in my life…Only to down more alcohol the following weekend. Let’s not get into that, ok? But please God…just give me this one little thing.

I’ve taken to reading the Bible more, it’s not collecting dust on my bookshelf anymore, and I call my Grandmother and ask her questions. I think she’s a little surprised but she translate verses to me, I ask her questions and although she doesn’t know all the answers, she tries to comfort me the best way she can. I understand God but at the same time I don’t understand Him. I guess I have questions that only He can answer. I sure don’t want to ask them face to face though.

I hope she doesn’t think I’m about to “do something”. I sure don’t need another faux intervention.

I don’t want to end on a somber note considering I’ve spend majority of this post griping about my punk ass cousin and I should bury the hatchet and let go of some of my grudges but I don’t think I’ve reached that point though. I can forgive but I can’t forget.

But pray for my girl. As a collective unit, we should be able to get though right?

Weekend Of Laziness...

I spent my weekend sleeping.

Ok well not the entire weekend but I was a lazy bum this weekend.

Friday was another adventure at hair salon. Of course I waltzed in at 10 am, waltzed out close to 3 pm. A record for a Friday.

I talked to Mama Dukes while I was under the dryer and she informed me how I’m going to be an aunt once again in a few short months. Apparently my brother’s baby mother was too lazy to get an abortion so she is going to have another baby.

Her third child before she is 20. My brother’s third child before he is 21. A muthafucking shame. Broad got the nerve to twist her lips talking about she want to get her figure back so she can go to prom.

*cricket chirp*

Bitch your prom days are over! Prom my ass! Shit prom is expensive as hell. In Chicago it is damn near mandatory to get a dress made *probably sources of most of the ghetto prom pictures circulating the internet* and not to mention shoes, nails, and hair?! She better concentrate on raising those babies.

*sigh*

Fucking fertile bastards in my family. I won’t even trip that she’s five months, have yet to have an ultrasound, and have yet to start prenatal vitamins. My poor niece or nephew doesn’t stand a chance. My brother seriously needs to have his baby maker tube snipped.

Of course I received my daily bombard of texts from SIGMA. Ignore. Even CUTIE popped out the blue with a phone call. Talking about lunch later on that day. Ok yeah you mean dinner because I spent lunch snoozing under the dryer. And I’m not that hungry to go out with you. Ignore.

By the time I made it home I was tired as shit. I thought I was going to lie down but no I was bothered by more phone calls.

My father has taken to stalking me once again. But to fair I haven’t talked to him since his car accident. I know no “Daughter of the Year” trophy for me.

I bummed around the apartment, watching TV, basically doing nothing.

I had a hilarious phone conversation with Jules. I told yall, when I find someone with Verizon I will text and phone someone to death. Well Jules started with drunk texts, complete with misspelled words and random word structure *lol yeah nigga I still have the texts as proof* and we drifted into a long ass humorous phone conversation.

As soon as we hung up, FH called me from Iraq to chew me out over an upcoming New Year’s trip to Miami. Basically our asses ain’t going. She was like how are we going to go to Miami on vacation while she’s stuck in Iraq and she will slit our tires *not a concern for me it ain’t like the car is mine* if we go to Miami without her. So we’re planning a trip to either New York or Vegas instead. I don’t know how the heifer found out but I’m sure TWIN big mouth ass said something.

It’s funny I was put on blast by one of my friends about my blog. Apparently he was insulted that I do not mention him in my blog *yeah Negro I’m putting you on blast right back*

It’s funny. When I mention to my friends that I have a blog, the first thing they yell out *and their requests are usually ignored* is they do not want a mention in my blog for fear I would put them in an unflattering light or *gasp* tell the truth about them.

When I don’t mention them at all, they get pissed and demand recognition in my blog. *sigh* I am not an author yet everyone wants to be a character. In fact they demand constant recognition. End of every conversation, "You're going to put this in your blog right?" Bitch...No. If I put every single phone conversation I had, I might as well create another blog. And I'm not a major major phone talker, I have to be in the mood to talk otherwise I'm texting and if I think the conversation will take longer by texting, I'll call.

Otherwise hit me with a text. Unlike some people's *And you know I'm talking about you* Verizon make sure I receive every single text. Can we say the same about Sprint? Hell Verizon still counts it whether you receive it or not!

I'm going to start playing the role of "Casting Director" complete with the couch.

What are you really willing to do to get a mention in my blog?

*cue guy sniffing while he slowly unbuttons his button up, eyes welled up with tears but he's refusing to cry. Close up on my sinister grin while I rub my pants leg*

I watched entirely too much TV this weekend as you can tell.

So to shut this person up *j/k love ya babe* I’m going to create a personal alias just for you hun, ok? So you can stop complaining that I don’t care about ya.

I went out and kicked it with DEE Friday and Saturday night. Hung out entirely too long and came home tired and hung over. See? Your new alias is DEE. Everyone say "HI" to DEE.

*waves*

I already know you're going to get mad but hey I did mention you...You didn't say how you wanted to have a mention, you just wanted one. I guess you'll be mad at me for a lil' while.

Ah you'll get over it...they always do *lol*

DEE is also looking for a girlfriend or at least a potential "fuck buddy" to get his rocks off. And what else am I doing to show you I care DEE...advertising for you on my blog. See I'm trolling for female booty for you on my blog. Not for me, I just came from the "I Heart Penis" conference but for you? See how much I care? I expect my trophy via Fed Ex any day now. *lol*

Why does my male friends really think I have loads of female friends hiding in the background? Now if your persuasion is male...I got ya. But checking for me to see if I have "cute" female friends...um negative bro. I don't kick it with many females and with the exception of a few, most are taken. And to be frank, I wouldn't hook you up with them anyway. Now that's saying something. Back away my brother. I don't want you calling me yelling because I "forgot" to tell you that chick is a nut and why is she on your porch with a Crown Royal bag with a can of corn inside fucking up your door? Screaming for you to come outside?

Umm...my bad? She told me she was still going to therapy over that. And hey you didn't ask. YOU asked did she have a "big butt" and was she "cute". Not did she have any potential pychopathic behaviors. Shit, I work on a "You Ask, I Tell" motto. What you don't ask, I sure don't tell. I'm not in the business of "volunteering" info.

What can I say about DEE? Hmm…a wonderful person to hang with, always full of jokes *OMG I still laugh when I think of your stripper’s routine* and gags. Excellent conversation maker and a great cook. We kick it every once and awhile, schedules permitting, and I guess I have a mini-crush on him but sometimes eh, he works my damn nerves.

**Of course we know he’s really the opposite of all this and I’m just sucking up right now lol*

Wasted yet another weekend. I meant to get out and do something but um yeah I just got the hair “did” and the wind was blowing a little too much for me *lol* Shit this has got to last for two weeks *lol* Thank the stars for the Dark and Lovely otherwise it would’ve been a wrap. You know my hair was reaching that “Even White People Look At It Like WTF Is Up With Her Hair” status and we know your shit is fucked up when white people won’t compliment you on it.

And we know they’ll compliment the shit out of a busted weave. Have a sister really thinking her shit is too fly for the streets.

What I wanted to do was go to the mall and buy a hat and scarf from the Gap but I was too lazy to leave out the house on Saturday. I just bummed around with the cat and watched TV.

And Jules you will not roast on my animal. So what he’s obnoxiously loud, he’s my furball. Well until he chews up on something.

Downloaded some Prince songs on the shuffle. Hey I watched Purple Rain this weekend. Shit I forgot how much I used to love me some Prince. I wanted his hairstyle and everything but my moms said she was not going to put a “curl” in my head. BUT she did used to roll it up and pin it up front and to the side like Prince. *lol* Yeah I was a lame but it beat the “puff puff” ponytail *when the only time you wore your hair down was Easter, Christmas and School Picture day* or braids.

Prince is a sexy motherfucker. He could get it three or four times if he wanted. The only man that I think is sexy with chest hair *lol*.

February 2nd….Verizon Center…Justin Timberlake. I am so there.

Christmas is rolling around, already I’m making a list. I’m sure I’ll find something in my closet with tags to pass off to some unsuspecting family member *lol don’t act like I’m the only one*.

The tree will go up after Thanksgiving, probably won’t go down until February *lol* Hey that’s a lot of work to take a tree down!

Sunday *as usual* I worked, only this time doing absolutely nothing, chilling in the back, playing on MSN messenger. I was in an extremely silly mood at work. I had Prince’s “Sexy M.F.” on repeat for an hour *lol*

You know some of the people at work don’t know anything like that, asking is this a “go-go” song.

I’ll slap the shit out of them. I don’t do a lot of “go go” music although some folks will fight you over here for disrespecting a “go go” song.

“Go Go” these nuts.

And there is this Platinum Member who stays at my hotel *must be nice for the government to pay for him to fly from Boston to DC weekly, pick up his hotel room AND expenses, weekly because he refuses to move to DC. Yet no money for schools. Gotta love America* who has a crush on me.

Nice looking White man. But um yeah a White man at that. And one old enough to be my father. And everyone jokes about the fact that this man has a HUGE crush on me. He hangs around the counter while I'm working, I'm the only one who can talk to him like shit *he's one of the grumpy white men as well* and he laughs and smiles, I took his pack of cigarettes and threw them in the garbage *I don't like smokers* and he does nothing but....laugh.

This is one of those guys you catch flipping out in the Star Bucks line because his Latte is not half skim. Nice looking man but kind of tightly wound at times. And I snap on him on a daily basis. Ok well I snap on a lot of people on a daily basis.

I wonder how I still got a job sometimes.

But we all know for folks who works in a "Status" based industry *Airlines and Hospitality for examples* Platinums are the "Yes Sir, No Sir" of the bunch. Used to being catered to and when they throw a hissy fit, motherfuckers jump. I arch an eyebrow. I don't care about your damn status and how much you spend at my hotel's chains. You treat people like people. And I've seen grown ass men and women throw literal temper tantrums in the lobby like 5 years olds. And what do you get from me?

"Sir/Ma'am until you calm down and speak to me in a reaonsable tone best suited for the environment we're in...I'm going to need you to step to the side so I can assist other guests because your attitude is quite unbecoming for a professional such as yourself. You should be ashamed of your behavior and quite frankly I'm appalled...Now please, can I assist the next person in line?"

And keep it moving. I know it's a file at Corporate's with angry letters about me. Just make sure you spell the name right motherfuckers. It's L-A-T *as in Tom*-O-Y-A. And don't forget to capitalize the "T". My mother puts a space between the LA and T but I'll let you slide this time.

I don't have the patience for rude people. Come at me correct or don't come at me at all.

And I'll go up into the Lounge and there he is. Always sits at my table and we talk politics and I really get into his ass. I guess he's another Slump...A liberal Republican. But at least he's honest. I'm not into politics at all but I just can't fathom his weekly expenses being paid for straight by the government. Damn that, you're too lazy to live in DC...pay your own way. And he works some type of government job *well duh 90% of the people who stay at my hotel works for the government in some shape or form* where he doesn't go into a lot of details about what he does. I told him let me find out he's the "Executive Janitor" to some senator, I'm going to beat his ass. And then it's straight to CNN.

He wants me to work for him. Since Wednesday he's been asking me to come work for me as his administrative assistant. Been bugging me about sending my resume to him. Sounds nice, I mean an actual M-F 8-5p job full benefits and he's offering double *of course he can the government picks up the tab* of what I'm making now?! Anyone else would be signing on the dotted line but I'm thinking of passing. I know the man likes me, hell everyone knows he likes me, it's not like he's discreet about it. He doesn't come at me disrespectful or anything, he's never touched me but you just know these things. Like I said, a grumpy man whose yelling at someone when I walk up only to melt into butter when I'm around? I'm waiting for the call into the office and being asked flat out am I fucking him?

I know I'm not a 10 in the looks department *Maybe an 8.5 on a good day* but then again he's a white guy, who knows what he sees?

But at the same time I'm trying to end up in his office under the ruse of "dicating" minutes from a meeting and his dick is out on the desk. I am not trying to be his "jungle bunny" either, look get a taste of chocolate elsewhere. Or his side chick. I know mistresses are the thing in DC but ummm no. That'll be hard coming home and explaining where did I get that Tiffany's diamond from and are those Jimmy Choo's to JBN. Better yet where the hell did you get the money for that car?!

He's really a nice man once you crack that icy exterior but then again I'm not crossing that line. I don't want to hear his problems with his marriage and his children although I told him maybe if you didn't work so much from home all the time, your home situation would be better. Every weekend doesn't mean shit when you have to leave every Sunday and you just got in on Thursday night.

But whatever. A grown man has a crush on me. How sweet. Yeah the sarcasm is just leaping off the page.

Anything exciting for anyone this weekend?

Adventures In Stripper Land...

**Due to the strip club’s policy I couldn’t take pictures, boo for them but I’ll give you the website’s address for you to get a clear idea. How fucked up is that? I can’t take pictures for fear they’ll end up on the internet, yet there’s naked pictures on their web page, how fucked up is that, damn that I’m hitting a Black strip club next time!**

Camelot


Wednesday night I had a very interesting evening.

I went to a strip club.

A “gentlemen’s club”.

That’s right. My anti-lesbian ass was in a strip club watching women take their clothes off for money.

And I took JBN along for the ride.

To make a long story short, on a dare a co-worker and I was dared to enter a woman’s strip club after we put the clubs on blast during lunch one day. And you know me I’m not one to back down from a challenge although I was a little wary. I mean I get hit on now when women think I am a lesbian but imagine if they saw me up in the club stuffing money in some woman’s garter?

But whatever. I was determined to head to a strip club plus I was curious as to the going ons in a white strip club as pertained to a black strip club.

You know black strip clubs are notoriously raunchy, you know strippers climbing the pole, pussy popping, doing splits and twists, lap dances that leave your lap a little bit sticky, “extras” in the back *depending on the club*, you can count on at least one stretch marked bullet ridden chick to be on stage, they charge you to get in AND a three drink minimum. And we won’t even get on the stripper’s name.

JBN was at home sitting there like a bump on a log so I invited him to the festivities. His eyes lit up and I saw the question behind it. Is this a trick? Am I going to flip out in the strip club because he’s eyeing naked chicks?

None of the above. I’m not stupid I know he has hit up strip clubs before.

And he had a damn good time. He tried to front like he wasn't because I was there but I know he had a good time. And the strippers liked him as well. Giving him little squeezes when he put money in their garter and he was the only who could get our waitress attention, well we were too drunk and obnoxious I guess for her *lol*

So off we head to…The Camelot. One of DC’s oldest strip clubs.

A lot of amusing shit happened so I’m just going to list the shit.

One thing I noticed right off back, we didn’t have to pay to get in and you didn’t have to buy a drink. This shit let me know this is not one thirsty ass club that’s worried about making its money back at the end of the night.

Another thing, after getting the shakedown at the entrance and me sweet talking a bouncer to allow the camera in the club rather than walk three blocks back to the car, was how PACKED it was. At 11 at night that bitch was standing room only.

Full of business men. On a Wednesday Night.

Initially I joked that I wanted to take a camera in to catch a senator or some one of importance in a comprising position with a stripper so I could blackmail the shit out of his ass. You know google his office number and shit and ask how much do you think CNN would pay for a picture of him and a woman’s titty that’s obviously not his wife’s in his mouth and shit with elections coming up…equals brand new Range Rover for me and the boyfriend. Not to mention a sizable stash.

I guess folks be on shit like that all the time so no flash photography. I was disappointed.

After finally getting a seat a few tables from the pole while some white girl basically just stood there and swayed off beat to the music, we got to drinking. And drinking. And drinking.

Basically we got fucked up.

And since we were drunk, we were the loud ignant ass drunk.

I mean I was waiting for Chocolate Thunda, Caramel Delite, Strawberry, Punkin, and Thickums to hit the stage and drop it like it’s hot.

What the fuck did I get?

Sheri, Brittany, Angel, Star, and Maria.

What. The. Fuck.

Those ain't stripper’s names! Those are some shit that’s on ya check but not on the fucking stripper roster! And yeah they had a roster! I wanted fucked up spelling and big asses!

I wanted “Tip Drill”, “Pussy Popping”, and “Disco Inferno” strippers! I wanted “Un Cut” video hoes!

So I was disappointed. Very disappointed. Not to see naked flesh but to see the shit I hear men discuss when they hit a Black strip club. You know the chicks that can pick up shit with their vagina muscles and spit it back to the audience. Chicks humping the pole like it’s going out to style.

But oh well I made the best of it.

The music killed me. Maybe I listen to more hip hop than I care to admit but virtually no “dance” songs were played. I mean it’s cool to strip to some of Prince’s songs…but ummm could you stay on rhythm? How the fuck are you dancing off beat to “Sexy M.F.”? I wanted to slap her off the stage and show her how to do it right, I mean you just will not sit up and disrespect one of my favorite Prince’s songs.

And then I thought about all the germs on that pole, I mean how well could they really wipe it down, and sat my drunken ass back down.

Dancing to country music and shit. I mean come on now. I mean it. Come on now. Serious?! Like are you bull shitting me?! You would never catch me swinging around the pole to some fucking Celine Dion!

And let’s not critique the pole skills. Granted the pole wasn’t the long and all of the women were topping out at least 5’8’’ without the stripper heels, but I mean was the pole just a prop? Only two girls climbed the pole. TWO! And not in the “Tip Drill” way. Kinda like when you were a kid and went to the pole and slide down the fireman’s pole.

The dancing? Typical white girl. Like I said off beat and no rhythm. I mean but they were acting as if they knew they were too fly. I mean they could’ve just got on stage, got naked and walked around the stage and generate more dollars than that mess they called dancing.

Ok I think I sound a little bit too lesbian right now *lol*

There were six black girls that I counted. Three were more the suburban “black” girl thing. I don’t wanna be harsh and flat out call them Oreos…but “Muffin” as a stripper name? I could’ve let it slide if it were spelled “Muffeen” but “Muffin”? Basically they were boobies and no booty.

*sigh*

Two were more “hoodish” looking but they were cocktail waitresses. Not dancers but they still looked a little fly.

We’re talking shots of “Red Headed Sluts” whatever they hell they were when one of the “hoodish” black girls walked by and I swear all four of our heads snapped in her direction. Bitch was tight! I won’t even front, she was thick as shit. Cornbread fed thick. Her little outfit did her no justice. We got a little happy thinking FINALLY! A BLACK GIRL! But we found out she wasn’t on the roster that night.

When I drink a lot I have to always pee so I'm stumbling once again to the bathroom when some guy stops me and ask have I ever considered dancing? You know I have a nice body for stripping and all that jazz. But um yeah, I’m like a second from pissing on myself could this wait a second before you try to pimp my ass?

I did say something smart but I think it flew over his head. Nigga I’m here to be entertained not to entertain!

Part of the dare was that we had to put money in a stripper’s garter and like I said it’s not like many of the strippers really did anything, I mean maybe for many of the white men that were there they were and course the guys went and gave money to every stripper, but for us *meaning our lady scruntinizing asses* we were mainly getting drunk and being loud asses.

I mean they would shake their breasts in a dude’s face and it cracked us up to look at the guy’s facial expressions. Some were stone faced like they weren’t impressed but you can tell they were they just weren't looking as thirsty as some of the men, but many had that “deer in a headlight” glazed over look, like wipe ya mouth dude you drooling look. Some were just hypnotized and had to be dragged off by the friends. Others had that creepy look like stare dude from Player’s Club that followed Diamond home had.

So we waited until one of the Black girls with potential hit the stage. Funny, only real “dance” songs we heard that night, I guess she put them in check before she hit the stage. The guys waited until she was fully nude before daring us to go up there.

I wasn’t trying to have some woman’s vagina all up in my face but shit I was drunk by then. We got a couple of whoops from the guys. It wasn’t a lot of women there that night so we were in the minority, meaning we were fully clothed. Early two girls got kicked out for sending it up with some guy and they got the boot.

So we’re standing there and she slinks over, smiling at us. She drops down, do a little gyrating, and then bitch reaches out and touch my face.

You know I wasn’t on that with her. Who knows where her fingers have been? And touching my face?!

Then she turns around, and claps her booty in our face. Like inches from my face. If I had a long nose I probably would’ve had a tip all up in her ass.

We toss the money down and haul ass away from the stage with some of the men laughing. I mean we were stunned. I didn’t expect her to do a “Tip Drill” butt clap in my face! Which led to a drunken discussion on how to make your booty clap. We asked our slow as shit waitress could she do it and she basically rolled her eyes and stomped off.

See for that, she fucked up on her tip.

We’re getting drunker and drunker. I’m not a beer drinker nor am I a straight shooter but I took quite a few shots that night. Luckily I wasn’t the driver *lol*. We down “Red Headed Sluts”, “Lemon Shots”, “Bacardi” shots, I had two Rum and Cokes, while JBN had the shots and a Henny and Red Bull. My co workers basically drunk beer like it was water and took the shots like it was Kool Aid.

You know you can’t fuck with White People when it comes to drinking. Shit I learned that lesson the hard way.

We watched several more dancers hit the stage and finally flagged the waitress down for the tab. It was nearing 2 am and folks had work or class in the morning.

Grand total for our tab: $183.

We came out our pocket quite a bit that night. Thank gawd for direct depositing putting my funds in @ 10 pm that night. We got looser with the money the drunker we got. Stumbled outside to discover it was raining, had to make a dash to the car. Went to the wrong car and spent ten minutes wondering why the door wouldn’t open. We got soaked. Um yeah I’ll have a cold shortly.

The next day at work folks were hitting us up for info but other than saying we went, we kept a closed lip. Other motherfuckers were invited and chose not to show. Your loss. Shit we had fun.

Next time we’re hitting a unisex strip club…A Black One at that. Damn that. We’re ready to demoralize some strippers and get some lap dances. Wet Wipes will be in the purse. You know the men like to grease themselves up and shit. I’d hate to beat some ass for one of them dripping some grease onto my $80 jeans. Ok well the jeans were on sale but shit they retail for $80.

And that was my induction into a white strip club. A very interesting night indeed.

And I didn’t get kicked out.