Random Talking...

JBN thinks I am going to leave him for another man. Wow. I have no idea where that one came from but it was sprung on me before I went to sleep.

Trust if I was going to leave him in the next few weeks I would not have brought him a X-Box 360 and best believe when I walk out that door, so does the game *and the cat*.

Hell yeah I’m an Indian giver *lol*. Shit he ain’t gonna be sitting up playing MY $400+ game system.

And besides even if the thought have seriously crossed my mind *shit who haven’t thought of leaving their significant other every once and awhile* the guy I have in question I don’t think he likes me in that way. And the kid is not making a fool of herself for a guy.

Why is it people have been testing my patience at work? I think I had to get bitchy with quite a few people at work. Usually I just smile brightly and blink until they get the fuck away from me but this week…I had to show that “ghetto” side that I like to mask at work. I think skipping those little pink pills and going straight to a new pack of BC pills have been affecting my brain.

FINALLY done with X-Mas shopping. Ok well I’m not done but I can buy the kids’ gifts in Chicago. I’ve also decided to not go home for Christmas but go home for New Years.

*translation: No Plane Ticket Money LOL*

Last New Years I was passed out on the couch by 11 pm. But we were moving from Maryland to Virginia the next day and I had spent the entire day packing.

This year I will be a booze hound in Chicago. Freezing in something scantily clad…but a sexy booze hound.

Why are people irritated when they have to stand in a line? Yesterday this woman flipped out in the line at Target’s because she had to wait in line.

Why did I howl when the girl informed her that she could take her business elsewhere if she didn’t want to stand in line. And trust there would be a line…even in the fiery pits of hell where she is destined to go.

Yes she said all that…and with a straight face not missing a beat.

I was dying in the “10 items or less” line. And speaking of that, why the hell is that the slowest line ever? With 10 items or less shouldn’t that line be the quickest? And don’t think I don’t call folks out…trying to slide in 11 items and shit. Naw those two items don't count as one! I don't care if they are the same thing!

Not on my watch buddy. Get your ass to the regular line.

Another reason why "cashier" will never become a job option for me. You know I'd just walk off or stand there like, "Oh I'm on break" which irritates the fuck out of me by the way but when haven't I done something to someone that irritates me when other people do it back to me?

There is a difference between “fat” and “thick”. My friends and I think that women who are nicely shaped meaning big breasts, butt, and legs BUT with little to no stomach are “thick”.

“Fat” are women who are just round all around. Stomach stick out more than their breasts.

A "Thick" woman can disguise her "flaws"...a "Fat" woman...um yeah ain't no disgusing that.

Like I disguise my small breasts with good push-up bras. Good IPex, Body, Angel bras. But let the bra come off...titties going right with the bra on the floor. Bra just sitting up on the floor with my titties still in them.

But at least I'm honest. I tell men my breasts aren't real.

There are always disputes on our definition of “thick” versus “fat” especially coming from “skinny bitches” like ourselves. But hey what’s “thick” to me is “fat” to others. But the “muffin top” is never sexy regardless of the size. And the “no ass at all” saggy bottom in jeans. Just sad.

I bought the wrong bra in Victoria’s Secret. I felt like a goof. Got home and tried it on in front of the hubby *you know me always a show off* and I was like, “DAMN I really need to upgrade to that 36B now…Fuck BC does a body good! Baby look at how I'm busting out this bra...” He looked at the tag in the back and was like, “Babe…This is a 32B. You got the wrong size.”

Damn why did he have to put me on front street like that. My face just fell the fuck off. Now I have to go back and exchange it.

Why did I contemplate keeping that bra for ½ a second? Ok and then I remembered I needed to breathe because a bitch was a gasp away from an asthma attack *I thought my breasts were just that big lol*. And I don’t even have asthma.

That's a lesson for your ass: Never try to squeeze your tits in a too small bra. Jeans...yeah ok, I mean if you put it directly below your diaphram you can still manage to breathe. Trust I have squeezing into tight jeans down to a science. But tight bra directly on the chest? Fuck around and pass out.

And yes I bought myself a x-mas gift. I have this FABULOUS chocolate brown handbag…ok more like a briefcase…but still…I LOVE this bag. I damn near wore my red bag out. Had to retire him to the shelf for a little while.

Yes I’m a “Big Bag” lady. The bigger the better. Funny because I never wore a purse until I was 17. Before then I used a messenger bag or a big ass book-bag purse *remember them? Do women still wear them?* but now I can't go anywhere without a purse. I'm the girl in the club with the big ass purse too stubborn to leave it in the trunk of the car with the rest of the purses but then I become "hold my car keys and ID" girl.

Not "Hold My Coat" girl because I remember a joke on comic view that stated only the "ugly" girls hold their friends' coats in the club.

LOL

I am making my hubby go back for the hot pink bag. So what I don’t have anything in that color, I just want the pink bag.

I have been slacking off on blogging. My muse comes at night and by the time I wake up, I have forgotten what I wanted to type so I just say “fuck it”.

The lesbians are lurking. I was on the Metro Wednesday and this girl asked for my phone number and when I asked why, she said I was “pretty” and she was “trying to get up”.

Umm get up on what? That SmartTrip?

I had to politely decline stating that I am on an all penis diet and sadly vagina is not on that menu. Besides I’ve heard eating coochie makes you gain weight.

After blinking at me for half a second, she got her ass up and moved.

I love gay men. I can watch and mimic them for hours. Especially the flamboyant “Bobby
Trendy” types. But is it a requirement to be gay to work at Express for Men? I’m just asking…

I went to the Express for Men in Pentagon City and I was in "Fag Hag" heaven.

Speaking of which, men please if you’re a little “bottom heavy”, please stop squeezing your big ass in Euro cut jeans! It’s one thing to see that girl who knew she was a cookie away from bursting out of those jeans when she put them on walking around with the muffin top…but it is so wrong to see a man walking around with the muffin top.

If you're a man and ever had to lay on the bed to button up your jeans...Ima need you to donate them jeans STAT.

I wish I would come home one day and see my man bouncing into a pair of jeans. That's as bad as catching your man with your panties on. And god help him if those are my "good" panties he have his rusty ass balls in.

Although one time I did come home and caught JBN's hands in my panty drawer. An awkward moment that was because I was convinced he was about to either sniff or try on a pair of my panties.

Now it's a running joke between us. Hell he have caught me in his boxers many of days. Only difference: I wear panties under them.

And if you know you’re a little, um, endowed, downstairs please don’t advertise your bulging nut sack to me as I bend over to tie my shoe. And why the fuck are you so close to me as I tie my shoe anyway? The last thing I need to look up and see is your nuts screaming for mercy in those jeans. Jeans so tight fuck around and get a nut infection. I mean would you want to bend down and my vagina is in your face?

Wait...scratch that thought. I want a guy's face close to my vagina LOLOL.

Please stop giving me the side eye because I relax my hair. Even Stevie Wonder could see that I could no shape and form pass for a white girl. The only way I'll give up a relaxer at this point is if a study comes out that Dark and Lovely causes head cancer. And even then I might slap one in to see if the study is correct.

I am not stuck up. I had to giggle as I typed that. You have to comb your hair and iron your jeans at least twice a week for that status. I hate to iron so I only wear the jeans that smoothes out when I put them on. So basically I wear the same 5 pairs of jeans every week. When I’m out in the street my do-rag is proudly on display. I don’t unwrap my hair unless I have a reason. And going to Target is not one of them.

I am so low maintenance sometimes, it's funny. I have my high maintenance times but for the most part I'm not a "I have to wear makeup everyday otherwise I could stand in for Cruella De Vil" person.

I can’t stand grumpy old people but something tells me I’m going to be that mean old lady on the block hollering about being on my grass.

I think I’m going to look ugly whenever I get knocked. I have the feeling I am going to just be all belly instead of spreading out on the sides, I’m just going to spread with the belly. Which equals stretch marks. Which equals I’ll be walking around looking greasy as fuck as soon as that 5th opinion is confirmed. Rubbing so much cocoa butter on folks will think I’m OCD.

Well even more than people think I am. I have to stop myself when I catch myself counting my steps.

I know now I am borderline retarded. I've managed to put up a damn good front over the years but now I know I am one knock on the head from "Lil Darryl" status. People would have a whole conversation with me while I’m staring them in the face and I don’t hear a word of it. I just snap out of my trance like, “Huh…what you say?” Blinking and shit. Sometimes I think a little drool might even slip out. I just tune people out…but I’m always daydreaming about stupid shit. Like I was on the phone with my mother and I’m thinking about pillowcases. And how pretty some are.

Borderline. Retarded.

It’s funny, I can remember shit clearly from 10 years ago down to every little detail but sometimes I don’t remember what I wore yesterday. And let's not get on names and ages. It's a running joke among friends that I get an age in my head and I just stick with it. I found out a friend's little brother is now 13 and about to graduate from the 8th grade. I swore up and down that boy was still 6. Yeah...where the hell have I been? But I had to seriously rack my brain to remember what I wore yesterday.

I flirt too fucking much. Damn me for knowing I am cute, I think I can pull anyone. And fuck you then you weren't that cute anyways when I can't.

Most of the time it's because I'm smiling about something. There goes that borderline retard again.

But hopefully people don’t think I’m that ugly girl who thinks she’s cute.

Someone could call me an “ugly bitch” to my face and I’m ready to scrap because I was called the “U” word. *lol*

But being called a bitch…eh I laugh. That word does not affect me in the least. Hell I know I’m a bitch.

My hubby says I have a “charm” that draws men to me. I say it’s the ass.

Even though, like MT, I get the crazy men, men with significant others, and insecure, whiny men. Every once and awhile I get a “normal” one but alas the situation is never right.

I faked an orgasm once. And that’s sad because we’re talking about someone whose nipples get hard from watching The Food Network. If a man can’t make me come, that’s fucked up on HIS part, I’m a walking orgasm.

I still think like a 13 year old boy. The word “organism” still makes me laugh.

At work a co-worker and I were signing each other drop sheets and we said at the same time “You do me and I’ll do you…*pause* But you do me first!” screaming like 14 year old girls. Dirty minds think alike.

And minds like myself will let you do me first and I fake a leg cramp and leave *lol*

If I have to play with a man’s dingaling to get it hard, no sex will be going down in that room.

Call it conceited but I never *ok outside from the faking incident* had to play with a man’s dick in order to have sex. That bad boy is already saluting when the pants are down.

So excuse me if I’m not good at hand jobs. I’m just not into jerking a dude’s dick to get him off.

I’m insulted if a guy asks me to “touch it” during foreplay in order to get it up. That tells me ol’ boy ain’t looking to play tonight.

Ew I used to hate touching a guy’s dick. That once was the ultimate insult to me, to ask me to touch a penis. Now I’m cupping a nigga’s shit like “What’s good with tonight?”

OK…maybe that’s not a great idea to do in the club but call it a lesson: Don’t grope me unless you want the same treatment. Startles the shit out of them everytime. Then I go to the bathroom and wash my hand, who knows what they were grinding on the dancefloor.

And men please control yourself: A hard dick poking me in my booty while dancing is never sexy.

An engagement ring does nothing but bring out the corny lines in men.

My feelings were deeply hurt by the recent “situation” in blog world concerning a certain person. Never again, I’ll tell you that. And people wonder why I’m such a cold ass person. Give a person an inch, they take a mile. Tuh, my kindness won’t be taken for granted I’ll tell you that.

That’s some evil, sociopath type of behavior. I mean damn I’ve done some grimy shit in my short days but nothing of this magnitude. I’m not so much concerned with myself anymore because Tenacious is going to be all right, already written out of my book and on the “list” but I take personal insult in hurting someone that I think of as a good person and a friend.

Karma is a bitch and when that bitch smacks you in the face, oh you’ll feel it.

You would think living with “live in dick” has it privileges but tuh! Working two jobs AND going to school full time puts a strain on the bedroom antics. Had to bring Walter out of retirement and that’s a damn shame. Now if I electocute myself one of these days, that'll be fucked up.

But could you imagine the conversation at the funeral?

I’ve added new sites to my web addictions, I get bored at work.

I’m thinking of transferring back to my old property. Better position, hours, and pay. I think
I’m going to have some haters at my current property and they won’t sign my transfer papers.

I’m getting a new phone. I’m going back to a regular phone since I’ve found out Verizon will NOT have the Blackberry Pearl *BOO on them* so I’m going with the LG Env.

Just for texting purposes.

I wish they would let me download Yahoo Messenger at work. I can only have MSN. Who the hell uses their MSN messenger? I stopped using that shit in high school. Damn at least give me AOL…I still remember the password.

Do you get mad when you have a wedgie and you can’t get it out? I had a HUGE wedgie at Target yesterday and every time I went to dig it out, someone came in my aisle! There's a difference between a thong and an unintentional "panty" thong.

Holiday party next week. Is it bad I haven’t bought my Secret Santa gift yet? I also promised to cook macaroni and cheese. Hopefully no one will get food poisoning on top of getting drunk.

There’s a fucking mouse at work. Sneaky bastard refuses to get caught. Even though the sticky mouse trap have caught everything BUT the mouse. Loose change, people’s shoe and/or pants leg, random bugs, even a fucking Dorito!

I think there is a conspiracy going on with the Dorito. I remember a joke about mouse traps and how there’s always a fucking dorito caught on the trap even though no one had any in the house.
I wish I remembered the entire joke because it was funny as hell.

I hate cold weather. How many months until spring?

I am addicted to trashy tabloids. None of my friends could get famous because I would be that “source” that rats them out.

If I were famous my friends would sell old pictures of me, have old stories, of course all the men I've ever slept with would come foward, friends would claim I have an alcohol problem, addicted to the white *wine that is* and am a sex manic.

Only half would be true though.

Slump I hope you’re not expecting me to really send in a script. They’ll reject me quicker than Graduate School. But congrats to you though. Um yeah I expect a hook-up.

Or it’s straight to the tabloids I go *lol* Right along with the "sex tape". And I'm not talking about the "good" kind of sex tape *lol*

Why can’t my muse come in the day? I wonder if I’m anyone’s muse. That would be sweet, I guess.

As long as it’s not a woman.

Have a great weekend everyone, don’t party too hard.