As we approach the New Year…
Best believe my ass is not going to make any resolutions because I know I will not follow through with any.
Ah New Years…Always good for one of my friends to reveal some life altering, mind shattering confession *always a drunken confession* that is sure to shock the alcohol out of us.
Let’s see…there was the year my best friend G revealed he was gay.
…Ok I knew that one. I mean I did walk in on him and some guy. And that guy was giving him some pretty nice mouth service.
I was horrified, I mean who wants to catch any friend in a compromising position, but it sure didn’t stop my pervy ass from looking *lol*
…And asking questions later.
Then there was another time when my friend revealed that the guy who we thought she was pregnant by was indeed not the father. To add to the blow, this was screamed out at a party during a heated argument.
…Boy that was an awkward ride back in the car.
Oh and I can’t forget the classic “I’m cheating on you…with your cousin” confession.
…I almost spilled my drank on that one. Almost. You know I’m not letting a drop of alcohol hit the floor. It doesn’t help that the cousin had a girlfriend at the time that also happened to be at the same party. It was a “two bitches on a side street” slap fest.
…Although I can’t help but wonder if my best friend and I were bad friends because we were hopelessly drunk and egging on the fight from the sidelines. There’s nothing worse than two cackling, drunk bitches hollering shit like, “Girl you’re going to take that…I mean she was sucking your man’s dick?!” while howling with laughter while holding ourselves up to prevent collapsing in the snow.
Clearly my friends and I have the “Jerry Springer/Maury/Ricki Lake” type of drama on New Years.
…Ok well every major holiday since we started sneaking vodka out of our parent’s liquor cabinets at 16.
Ok usually we’re long drunk before midnight but that’s not the point.
Since I’ve recently shunned alcoholic beverages as I’m remaining faithful to my diet/exercise regiment, I don’t know how this New Years will turn out as this will be the first year I’m sober on New Years in a long time.
And yes, I’m still sticking to my diet plan. So far I have lost 10lbs. and about 2 ½ inches from my waist line. I’m working out close to 6 days a week for an hour doing a combination of cardio, elliptical, and abs works *depending on the day* while calorie counting and shunning red meat and the swine.
*sigh* Yes I have joined the world of “turkey bacon”. Those little thin ass strips of meat that you never know when they’re done…since they just lay there all limp and shit. Don’t even crackle or anything. Just lying on the bottom of the pan.
Lord knows I love the swine but I had to give up my ham, bacon and pork chops. I won’t trip on how the pig has never failed me but…*sad wave*
…And it cracks me up to say “swine”. JBN refuses to say “pork” or “pig”, he calls it the “swine”. I’m like, “What the fuck…You Muslim now?” but it cracks me up nonetheless.
And now Pro has added on to my amusing word list with the word "fowl". No longer will I say "chicken" but now "fowl" has entered my vocabulary.
I mean it's not going to stop me from eating it but it gives me a chuckle.
Clearly…I am easily amused.
I can see ’08 being that year for me. Not only am I entering the year with a promotion, putting me a few steps closer to my goal of being a General Manager of a major hotel chain by the time I’m 30, but I’m also getting married.
Who would have thought me of all people as a married woman?
As much as I eye ball the opposite sex...soon I will have a shiny new ring on my finger that will NOT stop men from trying to holler but at least I'm not lying when I now say "I'm married."
And am I wrong for being too eager to shed my father's last name? I mean hypenated my ass, I'm exchanging this bad boy.
*tear* Soon...I will have a maiden name.
...Although I used to wonder why there was so much emphasis on having one's mother's maiden name for everything. It took me a long time to realize with so many dead beat fathers, not to mention all the whores who don't know who their child's father is, that's not really feasible.
But...Wouldn't it be kind of funny?
I mean instead of sending rejection letters based on credit *sigh* why not just do it for lack of father's name?
...Like..."Records show that Smith/John is NOT the last name of your father on your birth certificate...Credit Approval DENIED"
...But that might lead to some awkward questions about one's parentage.
But still...lil' ol' me as a married woman?
Ok I used to play “MASH” and I thought I would be married, in a mansion, with 2 kids by the time I was 21 but clearly as a 11 year old girl I was smoking crack *lol*
I remember when I thought being 21 was equivalent to my mother’s age.
Come to think of it…nowadays I feel like I’m my parents’ age compared to the youth today. I’m 24 years old and sometimes it feels like I’m like in my 50s or something.
I graduated from high school in 2001, college 2005 and with all this shit out here nowadays, I feel old when I admit I had a portable cd player in high school.
Don’t front like I was the only one who carried a gang of cds with them to school. Had the little broke up headphone piece held together with tape. Lost the back of the battery holder so you had to put your hand over the opening so the batteries wouldn’t fall out.
Like I said…graduated from high school in 2001. Those things are like relics now. You’re like, poor, if you can’t afford an I-pod.
Here’s to another year of successfully dodging pregnancy, some of my exes, and the police.
Happy New Years!!!
Monday, December 31, 2007
Sunday, December 30, 2007
End of the Year Meme...
**Thanks Isis!!
1) Was 2007 a good year for you?
It was a damn good year. I’ve had my complaints, trials and tribulations *cue violin* but not a complete bust. Even I am surprised.
2) What was your favorite moment of the year?
Trying on my wedding dress and looking in the mirror. I’m looking like “Wow, I’ve never imagined this moment”. I saw myself as an adult that day.
3) What was your least favorite moment of the year?
Falling out with a friend. Thought that person was down for me but turns out petty jealousy and envy broke our bond.
4) Where were you when 2007 began?
Drunk and near passed out at a party. Ah what a way to being the year.
5) Who were you with?
JBN, friends, strangers
6) Where will you be when 2007 ends?
I’m going out but this will be a sober year.
7) Who will you be with when 2007 ends?
Surrounded by friends.
8) Did you keep your new years resolution of 2007?
I don't even bother to make those anymore.
9) Do you have a new years resolution for 2008?
See above
10) Did you fall in love in 2007?
Been in love since ‘02
11) If yes, with who?
JBN
12) If yes, do they know?
He better! lol
13) Are you still in love with them?
Yup
14) You regret it?
I never regret anything I do.
15) Did you breakup with anyone in 2007?
”Broke up” with some friends but that’s it.
16) Did you make any new friends in 2008?
I made a few
17) Who are your (most memorable) favorite new friends?
Def. Jigalow and one of my co-workers
18) What was your favorite month of 2007?
MAY!!!
19) Did you travel outside of the US in 2007?
Nope
20) How many different states have you traveled in 2007?
Let’s see…Nevada, Missouri, Florida. Michigan and Pennsylvania….I’m not going to count Maryland or Illinois for obvious reasons
21) Did you lose anybody close to you in 2007?
No.
22) Did you miss anybody in the past year?
My family.
23) What was your favorite movie that you saw in 2007?
Super Bad and the last Harry Potter
24) What was your favorite song from 2007?
Kitty Kat--Beyonce
25) What was your favorite album from 2007?
Robin Thicke’s and Justin Timberlake’s are really the only albums I listened to obsessively
26) How many concerts did you see in 2007?
One
27) Did you have a favorite concert in 2007?
I just saw Robin Thicke
28) Did you drink a lot of alcohol in 2007?
But of course….but I’ve slowed down since dieting
29) Did you do a lot of drugs in 2007?
yeah…birth control is a hellva drug
30) How many people did you sleep with in 2007?
One…duh. But lawd if I didn’t fantasize about one or two people…..
31) Did you do anything you are ashamed of this year?
I was ashamed of going to get that 4th plate when we went to an all you can eat buffet.
32) What was the biggest lie you told in 2007?
That my feelings were mutual for a person knowing damn well I was lying.
33) What was the worst lie someone told you in 2007?
I love you
34) Did you treat somebody badly in 2007?
yes
35) Did somebody treat you badly in 2007?
Not really
36) How much money did you spend in 2007?
A Lot
37) What was your proudest moment of 2007?
Watching my baby brother get married. I’m so proud of the way he has turned his life around.
38) What was your most embarrassing moment of 2007?
Oooh lord. That’s a lot. I guess when I was swimming in the ocean and something brushed against my legs and I ran out the water shrieking and screaming. That’s one right there.
39) If you could go back in time to any moment of 2007 what would it be?
I sure would not have began talking to him that’s for sure.
40) What are your plans for 2008?
Continue to rise within the company, get married, and buy my Acura.
1) Was 2007 a good year for you?
It was a damn good year. I’ve had my complaints, trials and tribulations *cue violin* but not a complete bust. Even I am surprised.
2) What was your favorite moment of the year?
Trying on my wedding dress and looking in the mirror. I’m looking like “Wow, I’ve never imagined this moment”. I saw myself as an adult that day.
3) What was your least favorite moment of the year?
Falling out with a friend. Thought that person was down for me but turns out petty jealousy and envy broke our bond.
4) Where were you when 2007 began?
Drunk and near passed out at a party. Ah what a way to being the year.
5) Who were you with?
JBN, friends, strangers
6) Where will you be when 2007 ends?
I’m going out but this will be a sober year.
7) Who will you be with when 2007 ends?
Surrounded by friends.
8) Did you keep your new years resolution of 2007?
I don't even bother to make those anymore.
9) Do you have a new years resolution for 2008?
See above
10) Did you fall in love in 2007?
Been in love since ‘02
11) If yes, with who?
JBN
12) If yes, do they know?
He better! lol
13) Are you still in love with them?
Yup
14) You regret it?
I never regret anything I do.
15) Did you breakup with anyone in 2007?
”Broke up” with some friends but that’s it.
16) Did you make any new friends in 2008?
I made a few
17) Who are your (most memorable) favorite new friends?
Def. Jigalow and one of my co-workers
18) What was your favorite month of 2007?
MAY!!!
19) Did you travel outside of the US in 2007?
Nope
20) How many different states have you traveled in 2007?
Let’s see…Nevada, Missouri, Florida. Michigan and Pennsylvania….I’m not going to count Maryland or Illinois for obvious reasons
21) Did you lose anybody close to you in 2007?
No.
22) Did you miss anybody in the past year?
My family.
23) What was your favorite movie that you saw in 2007?
Super Bad and the last Harry Potter
24) What was your favorite song from 2007?
Kitty Kat--Beyonce
25) What was your favorite album from 2007?
Robin Thicke’s and Justin Timberlake’s are really the only albums I listened to obsessively
26) How many concerts did you see in 2007?
One
27) Did you have a favorite concert in 2007?
I just saw Robin Thicke
28) Did you drink a lot of alcohol in 2007?
But of course….but I’ve slowed down since dieting
29) Did you do a lot of drugs in 2007?
yeah…birth control is a hellva drug
30) How many people did you sleep with in 2007?
One…duh. But lawd if I didn’t fantasize about one or two people…..
31) Did you do anything you are ashamed of this year?
I was ashamed of going to get that 4th plate when we went to an all you can eat buffet.
32) What was the biggest lie you told in 2007?
That my feelings were mutual for a person knowing damn well I was lying.
33) What was the worst lie someone told you in 2007?
I love you
34) Did you treat somebody badly in 2007?
yes
35) Did somebody treat you badly in 2007?
Not really
36) How much money did you spend in 2007?
A Lot
37) What was your proudest moment of 2007?
Watching my baby brother get married. I’m so proud of the way he has turned his life around.
38) What was your most embarrassing moment of 2007?
Oooh lord. That’s a lot. I guess when I was swimming in the ocean and something brushed against my legs and I ran out the water shrieking and screaming. That’s one right there.
39) If you could go back in time to any moment of 2007 what would it be?
I sure would not have began talking to him that’s for sure.
40) What are your plans for 2008?
Continue to rise within the company, get married, and buy my Acura.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Yeah...I'm Shocked Too....
You know I never realized how many “friends” I had until I began formulating the guest list for my wedding.
Although I am 100% positive that many of my so-called “friends” are fueled by the fact that we’re having a four hour open bar.
I mean the promise of free alcohol is how JBN lured me to his room that first time.
Or maybe it was the promise of real pizza and not that crap the cafeteria served.
Come to think of it, the promise of free booze or food always managed to lure me somewhere.
*lol*
So yeah…I’m back.
For good this time. I promise. My muse left me but apparently decided to come back. Fucker was on an unpaid vacation and shit.
So far this wedding planning isn’t half bad. I mean sure I have to patiently explain to people why I’m not mailing out invites yet…I mean the wedding is in August, folks been sweating me since September.
Oh and I haven’t even bought any invites anyway but that’s not the point.
And I have to patiently explain to my mother and the rest of my kin folk that inviting people who I have NO idea who they are is NOT an option.
As if your poker buddy is going to buy me a nice gift.
And not to mention there are gasps of disbelief that I do not want a bridal shower.
I mean we’ve been together 5 years…trust I have all the skanky lingerie there is. I don’t need crotch less panties or edible undies…trust those are in the closet next to the handcuffs. *wink*
But…as I said, not half bad.
The last few months have been kind of rough on me.
There’s this whole wedding thing, which was a headache and a half. I mean I am trying to do almost everything myself *since I know what I like and want* from the DC area and although my aunt and now my Mo-Mo *godmother* is on the train…things are looking up.
My brother, yes my shiftless lazy ass brother with numerous children, got married in November…and apparently found God.
Which I’m not hating on, I mean in the few short months he have really turned his life around and I couldn’t be prouder. To go from the lazy asshole mooching off of my mother to getting married and holding down a full time job not to mention getting back in the church is an excellent thing.
My family wasn’t without the side eye though. I mean this is my brother we’re talking about. I was in disbelief when I got the phone call.
I had to ask my mother did I have a new brother or something.
I won’t get into his church though. *side eye* Say what you want but I’m not into one of those churches where everyone is hollering and screaming, writhing on the floor from the Holy Ghost and all that jazz. I literally left his church with a migraine.
I mean why have a sound system when I can clearly hear you screaming from down the street? And all the fire and brimstone? Not for me.
And the lady that damn near went into an epilepsic seizure in front of me kind of did it for me. All the whooping and hollering and as soon as the music stops, she picks her ass up from the floor like it’s nothing.
*side eye*
But ummm yeah, my baby brother beat me to the alter.
I won’t even go into work. *sigh* I just won’t. I like 95% of my co workers, I really do. It’s not too many work places where political correctness is frowned upon. Oh yeah, we’re some filthy mouth racist *or so we have been told by another co-worker who was uncomfortable with our daily conversations about sex, penis, vagina, more sex, and the occasional racial stereotype thrown in for good measure*
And let’s not get on the blatant sexual harassment.
But the last few months have really been trying. I hate lazy people and I hate the fact that because I’m one of the hardest working persons in my department that shit comes down on me when other lazy motherfuckers decide to slack on their job.
So every day was a bitch fest. I mean I am not the type to remain quiet about shit especially when it comes to MY job and MY work duties. I’ll be damn if I get hollered for anything that pertains to me.
Niggas will have to pump those brakes. I don’t play that.
Don’t get me wrong I’m far from a whistle blower. I don’t believe in running to my superiors or HR for every little thing—I’m a face to face confronter. For the most part, I just do my job and my job only but you know how the actions of lazy people eventually affects your work and like I said, I’ll be damned if I let someone get me in hot water, so outside of daily calling folks out, I got into it with a few of my co workers.
It’s not a surprise it’s really the people I don’t get along with so I knew the shit was going to hit the fan anyway. I guess they thought by trying to make me look bad, I would get fired or a write up or something.
Clearly fucking with the wrong person. Testing my gangster while at work is the wrong thing to do.
Shit done fucked up your gift card for the Secret Santa and shit. *lol*
But...all my bitching has paid off.
In the next few weeks, I will be the supervisor over the SAME folks I have problems with.
Yeah that’s right…bitch got a well-deserved promotion.
*Not like I wasn’t doing the same shit before but now my ass is getting PAID to do it*
I should have taken a picture of their faces when it was announced. Straight gas faces. Faces looked like the world was over. One chick even got up and left the room.
*insert my self-satisfied smirk*
I’m now like a casting director…what are you really willing to do in order to get Saturday night off?
*eyes cut to the “chair” *hell my office isn’t big enough for a couch*
*sinister smile as I slowly close my office door*
Revenge has never smelled sweeter.
Although I am 100% positive that many of my so-called “friends” are fueled by the fact that we’re having a four hour open bar.
I mean the promise of free alcohol is how JBN lured me to his room that first time.
Or maybe it was the promise of real pizza and not that crap the cafeteria served.
Come to think of it, the promise of free booze or food always managed to lure me somewhere.
*lol*
So yeah…I’m back.
For good this time. I promise. My muse left me but apparently decided to come back. Fucker was on an unpaid vacation and shit.
So far this wedding planning isn’t half bad. I mean sure I have to patiently explain to people why I’m not mailing out invites yet…I mean the wedding is in August, folks been sweating me since September.
Oh and I haven’t even bought any invites anyway but that’s not the point.
And I have to patiently explain to my mother and the rest of my kin folk that inviting people who I have NO idea who they are is NOT an option.
As if your poker buddy is going to buy me a nice gift.
And not to mention there are gasps of disbelief that I do not want a bridal shower.
I mean we’ve been together 5 years…trust I have all the skanky lingerie there is. I don’t need crotch less panties or edible undies…trust those are in the closet next to the handcuffs. *wink*
But…as I said, not half bad.
The last few months have been kind of rough on me.
There’s this whole wedding thing, which was a headache and a half. I mean I am trying to do almost everything myself *since I know what I like and want* from the DC area and although my aunt and now my Mo-Mo *godmother* is on the train…things are looking up.
My brother, yes my shiftless lazy ass brother with numerous children, got married in November…and apparently found God.
Which I’m not hating on, I mean in the few short months he have really turned his life around and I couldn’t be prouder. To go from the lazy asshole mooching off of my mother to getting married and holding down a full time job not to mention getting back in the church is an excellent thing.
My family wasn’t without the side eye though. I mean this is my brother we’re talking about. I was in disbelief when I got the phone call.
I had to ask my mother did I have a new brother or something.
I won’t get into his church though. *side eye* Say what you want but I’m not into one of those churches where everyone is hollering and screaming, writhing on the floor from the Holy Ghost and all that jazz. I literally left his church with a migraine.
I mean why have a sound system when I can clearly hear you screaming from down the street? And all the fire and brimstone? Not for me.
And the lady that damn near went into an epilepsic seizure in front of me kind of did it for me. All the whooping and hollering and as soon as the music stops, she picks her ass up from the floor like it’s nothing.
*side eye*
But ummm yeah, my baby brother beat me to the alter.
I won’t even go into work. *sigh* I just won’t. I like 95% of my co workers, I really do. It’s not too many work places where political correctness is frowned upon. Oh yeah, we’re some filthy mouth racist *or so we have been told by another co-worker who was uncomfortable with our daily conversations about sex, penis, vagina, more sex, and the occasional racial stereotype thrown in for good measure*
And let’s not get on the blatant sexual harassment.
But the last few months have really been trying. I hate lazy people and I hate the fact that because I’m one of the hardest working persons in my department that shit comes down on me when other lazy motherfuckers decide to slack on their job.
So every day was a bitch fest. I mean I am not the type to remain quiet about shit especially when it comes to MY job and MY work duties. I’ll be damn if I get hollered for anything that pertains to me.
Niggas will have to pump those brakes. I don’t play that.
Don’t get me wrong I’m far from a whistle blower. I don’t believe in running to my superiors or HR for every little thing—I’m a face to face confronter. For the most part, I just do my job and my job only but you know how the actions of lazy people eventually affects your work and like I said, I’ll be damned if I let someone get me in hot water, so outside of daily calling folks out, I got into it with a few of my co workers.
It’s not a surprise it’s really the people I don’t get along with so I knew the shit was going to hit the fan anyway. I guess they thought by trying to make me look bad, I would get fired or a write up or something.
Clearly fucking with the wrong person. Testing my gangster while at work is the wrong thing to do.
Shit done fucked up your gift card for the Secret Santa and shit. *lol*
But...all my bitching has paid off.
In the next few weeks, I will be the supervisor over the SAME folks I have problems with.
Yeah that’s right…bitch got a well-deserved promotion.
*Not like I wasn’t doing the same shit before but now my ass is getting PAID to do it*
I should have taken a picture of their faces when it was announced. Straight gas faces. Faces looked like the world was over. One chick even got up and left the room.
*insert my self-satisfied smirk*
I’m now like a casting director…what are you really willing to do in order to get Saturday night off?
*eyes cut to the “chair” *hell my office isn’t big enough for a couch*
*sinister smile as I slowly close my office door*
Revenge has never smelled sweeter.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Told Ya I'll Be Back....
This trip home was far more successful than the last time I went home.
We finally have a ceremony/reception space.
I’m very pleased since we got our first choice for ceremony/reception place.
Everything fell in place. Ceremony space looks fabulous. Reception space is fabulous. It’s within our budget and we fell in love with it on sight.
Check it out: the website is: http://www.chateaubusche.com
Since my dress was not ready as I thought *side eye* no pics as of yet. I’m kinda mad at that.
Pool Blue *Hell Aqua, who am I kidding lol* and White are the main colors. I haven’t decided if the bridesmaids will wear gold or silver heels yet. But I’m leaning toward silver.
White is out as *sigh* it’s close to Labor Day and we all know white shoes are out after Labor Day.
I wouldn’t want them in White anyway *lol*
However my veil and jewelry is. Check back later for the pics.
Soo….um yeah….the kid is back :)
I’m done worrying until at least the New Year….and *sigh* Diet time. Invites. Putting fire under my bridesmaids/groomsmen asses. You know the usual.
Pro….you had me coined. I was in McDonald’s all last week slurping on my liquid crack. Fell out for dead when my favorite McDonald’s *Shut up, yeah I have McDonald’s spots that I haunt* ran out.
I demanded to talk to a manager and everything.
I’m scratching and shit, eye twitching….going through straight withdrawal.
Dammit I need Sweet Tea Rehab!
I thought I didn’t miss it but with the Monopoly Game *Shut Up, Don’t act like I’m the only one obsessed with that game* AND it’s on the Large cup of Sweet Tea….how could I resist?
But I’m entitled to pig out until the New Year and then….*sigh* I’m on a diet. One of my co-workers is a part time personal trainer and he offered to tone me up in time for the wedding.
And I don’t mean “tone me up” like that…freaks *lol* He is white and we all know how I feel about the “pink”.
I like my meats well done thank you.
So….congrats to me :)
I’m back….and in full force!!
We finally have a ceremony/reception space.
I’m very pleased since we got our first choice for ceremony/reception place.
Everything fell in place. Ceremony space looks fabulous. Reception space is fabulous. It’s within our budget and we fell in love with it on sight.
Check it out: the website is: http://www.chateaubusche.com
Since my dress was not ready as I thought *side eye* no pics as of yet. I’m kinda mad at that.
Pool Blue *Hell Aqua, who am I kidding lol* and White are the main colors. I haven’t decided if the bridesmaids will wear gold or silver heels yet. But I’m leaning toward silver.
White is out as *sigh* it’s close to Labor Day and we all know white shoes are out after Labor Day.
I wouldn’t want them in White anyway *lol*
However my veil and jewelry is. Check back later for the pics.
Soo….um yeah….the kid is back :)
I’m done worrying until at least the New Year….and *sigh* Diet time. Invites. Putting fire under my bridesmaids/groomsmen asses. You know the usual.
Pro….you had me coined. I was in McDonald’s all last week slurping on my liquid crack. Fell out for dead when my favorite McDonald’s *Shut up, yeah I have McDonald’s spots that I haunt* ran out.
I demanded to talk to a manager and everything.
I’m scratching and shit, eye twitching….going through straight withdrawal.
Dammit I need Sweet Tea Rehab!
I thought I didn’t miss it but with the Monopoly Game *Shut Up, Don’t act like I’m the only one obsessed with that game* AND it’s on the Large cup of Sweet Tea….how could I resist?
But I’m entitled to pig out until the New Year and then….*sigh* I’m on a diet. One of my co-workers is a part time personal trainer and he offered to tone me up in time for the wedding.
And I don’t mean “tone me up” like that…freaks *lol* He is white and we all know how I feel about the “pink”.
I like my meats well done thank you.
So….congrats to me :)
I’m back….and in full force!!
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Don't Erase Me Off The Blog Roll Just Yet...
I promise as soon as we close on the ceremony/reception hall on October 13th, I'll be back to my usual randomness.
Pics are coming soon. My best friend is acting real secretive with the pictures. I knew I should have brought my camera in that day.
Oh and my dress is done so while I'm in Chicago that weekend I KNOW I'll have pictures for sure. I'm super excited about seeing my "finished" dress.
I will forwarn you though: My hair is probably going to be all over my head wrestling with the dress and veil.
And dare I say it: maybe a tear or two.
Now I have to make sure my ass can fit in that dress w/o alterations by next summer
*sigh* I guess I'm axing Wendy's off my menu as well. It's going to go the way of the Sweet Tea from McDonald.
I swear I'm going to get a personal trainer.
I swear as soon as we have an actual place, I'm so sure things are going to fall into place.
Invites...piece of cake.
Decorations and stuff...my fantabolous *I know not a word but that damn Rachel Ray had grown on me with these made up words* aunt is taking care of all of that for me. She points and I buy. I step back and she creates her wonderful magic.
We've looked at rings. I've given him my top 5 and I told him to surprise me. Everyone seems really surprised that I want a simple ring. Pushing me toward the rocks when I want a simple band.
I'll get the rock for my 2nd marriage :)
Shit I want something that when I slide that bad boy off to go to the club, local crackheads won't break into the car and swipe it out the ash tray *lol*
Bridesmaids/groomsmen set. And no one is upset *or at least grumbling out loud* about paying for their own stuff. Trust I would love to pay for my girls' stuff but 7 formal gown and tuxes are not in the budget. If I won the lottery, then I wouldn't care but we're saving for a house on top of the wedding and we're on a strict budget for both. We are paying for the maid of honor's and the best man's items though.
You know my best friend is geeked about that. I told her she better get me a good stripper for the bachelorette's party since I'm saving her some dough *lol*
And top shelf Yak. Not the Jewel's brand liquor.
Once this last major hurdle is done, I'm back in business.
I can breathe easily...until 08. Then I'm back at it.
Thanks so much for everyone's patience. I know my long ramblings have gotten folks through many of boring work hours *lol*
When I have a spare second, best believe I'll be backtracking.
So no new boyfriends/husbands/girlfriends/wives, pregananies, stints in prison, slapping a family memeber up, felt up by some guy in the subway until I get caught up with my favorite bloggers lives.
But oooh add the great sex stories. You know I'm straight in the gutter :)
Pics are coming soon. My best friend is acting real secretive with the pictures. I knew I should have brought my camera in that day.
Oh and my dress is done so while I'm in Chicago that weekend I KNOW I'll have pictures for sure. I'm super excited about seeing my "finished" dress.
I will forwarn you though: My hair is probably going to be all over my head wrestling with the dress and veil.
And dare I say it: maybe a tear or two.
Now I have to make sure my ass can fit in that dress w/o alterations by next summer
*sigh* I guess I'm axing Wendy's off my menu as well. It's going to go the way of the Sweet Tea from McDonald.
I swear I'm going to get a personal trainer.
I swear as soon as we have an actual place, I'm so sure things are going to fall into place.
Invites...piece of cake.
Decorations and stuff...my fantabolous *I know not a word but that damn Rachel Ray had grown on me with these made up words* aunt is taking care of all of that for me. She points and I buy. I step back and she creates her wonderful magic.
We've looked at rings. I've given him my top 5 and I told him to surprise me. Everyone seems really surprised that I want a simple ring. Pushing me toward the rocks when I want a simple band.
I'll get the rock for my 2nd marriage :)
Shit I want something that when I slide that bad boy off to go to the club, local crackheads won't break into the car and swipe it out the ash tray *lol*
Bridesmaids/groomsmen set. And no one is upset *or at least grumbling out loud* about paying for their own stuff. Trust I would love to pay for my girls' stuff but 7 formal gown and tuxes are not in the budget. If I won the lottery, then I wouldn't care but we're saving for a house on top of the wedding and we're on a strict budget for both. We are paying for the maid of honor's and the best man's items though.
You know my best friend is geeked about that. I told her she better get me a good stripper for the bachelorette's party since I'm saving her some dough *lol*
And top shelf Yak. Not the Jewel's brand liquor.
Once this last major hurdle is done, I'm back in business.
I can breathe easily...until 08. Then I'm back at it.
Thanks so much for everyone's patience. I know my long ramblings have gotten folks through many of boring work hours *lol*
When I have a spare second, best believe I'll be backtracking.
So no new boyfriends/husbands/girlfriends/wives, pregananies, stints in prison, slapping a family memeber up, felt up by some guy in the subway until I get caught up with my favorite bloggers lives.
But oooh add the great sex stories. You know I'm straight in the gutter :)
Monday, September 10, 2007
Wedding Headaches
Since I am knee deep in work and wedding planning, I haven't been online much other than to look at reception places, wedding party favors, bridesmaids dresses, etc.
So please forgive me if I haven't been checking on my spots. I get so caught up in the wedding stuff, I don't go to any other sites.
Good News: I do have my wedding dress.
I went with my first choice after trying on 6 different gowns. I really liked my 2nd choice but that would mean starving to death the day of the wedding because the corset part is really tight.
In fact the whole dress was super tight *Just the way I like it ;-)* but I got a little light headed wearing that dress. And I know it would've taken me at least 20 minutes to get out the dress. And it was almost impossible to use the potty in the dress.
But after trying on my 1st choice, I fell in love with the dress and bought it right there.
Since my best friend, the matron of honor, is being really stingy with the pictures, I'll have to steal her camera and post up the dresses at a later date.
In fact I'm still looking for a new matron of honor after the heifer flung open the door while I was undressing and every one and their mama saw my bare ass in the dressing room.
AND I had on the busted joints at that.
So I do have my dress so push come to shove, I will at least have my dress when JBN and I have to run off and elope in Vegas.
My mother and I are on the outs. She's trying to plan this big, extravagent wedding and she does not understand that I don't want all of that.
She's trying to invite anyone who has every stared at me in the last 24 years to my wedding.
I'm not on that with her.
I understand she's excited but...umm yeah this is MY day!
It's so much we debate about I'm getting a headache just re-thinking about it.
My father and I are on the outs. As usual.
The way I feel about him right now- I don't want his contribution or him in my life.
I told him he'll be lucky if I let him attend, let alone walk me down the aisle.
My younger cousin stole $20 from me while I was in Chicago. Me and that little bitch is not talking. In fact, since she was M.I.A. the rest of the time I was in Chicago, oh don't think I was looking for her, when I go back next month to close on the reception hall, I'm putting my foot up her ass.
My other cousin, the one I got into a fight with on Thanksgiving, had the nerve to twist her lips up and ask can she be in my wedding.
Bitch please.
And not that I care but we *meaning JBN* asked his sister did she want to be a bridesmaid, this heifer: "I'll have to check my schedule". No love is lost between us as you can see. Makes me none. "I" was only asking to be polite since my brother and my male best friend are groomsmen.
Yeah I had to swipe some of his groomsmen. My best friend is a given. My brother...eh he's up in the air. It has already been told that I am not paying a dime for his tux so if he want to be in the wedding I advise he save up.
So I'm really trying not to stress about this wedding and I'm really trying not to snap on people.
I mean it would shave a few numbers off of the reception list but still...I'm so not trying to become a Bridzilla.
I am failing...quite miserably actually...but dang I haven't reached the exploding point yet.
My aunt, my savior right now as she's holding down everything for me in Chicago, we're doing research together, emailing each other back and forth, and because she's like an Arts and Crafts God, she's decorating for the ceremony and reception AND she put me on to this great caterer.
I'm trying to be nice and let my friends pick their own dresses because they are paying for it but I see already I'm going to have to pick out the dresses myself.
Folks' body types are sooo not matching up with the dresses they want. I mean 95% of my friends are top heavier, or at least in "C" cups and strapless is so not the way to go.
Walking tugging up the top.
Breasts spilling all over the top of the dress. Alright for the club but not for my pictures.
So since most of my friends are skanks, I see I'm going to have to find some nice "classy" dresses for them.
Now I am debating with the reception hall because I do not like their menu and I want to bring an outside caterer in. I mean I really want this place but I do not want the food. It's really bland and doesn't look good IMO.
I mean I want soul food. The fattening, the better. I don't want dry ass baked chicken or fish. I want some golden fried chicken/catfish candied yams, macaroni and cheese, collard greens *for the folks who eat that mess*, cabbage *for me*, corbread, etc.
And I prepared to go to war over this.
But elopement is looking like a great possibility as of right now.
So please forgive me if I haven't been checking on my spots. I get so caught up in the wedding stuff, I don't go to any other sites.
Good News: I do have my wedding dress.
I went with my first choice after trying on 6 different gowns. I really liked my 2nd choice but that would mean starving to death the day of the wedding because the corset part is really tight.
In fact the whole dress was super tight *Just the way I like it ;-)* but I got a little light headed wearing that dress. And I know it would've taken me at least 20 minutes to get out the dress. And it was almost impossible to use the potty in the dress.
But after trying on my 1st choice, I fell in love with the dress and bought it right there.
Since my best friend, the matron of honor, is being really stingy with the pictures, I'll have to steal her camera and post up the dresses at a later date.
In fact I'm still looking for a new matron of honor after the heifer flung open the door while I was undressing and every one and their mama saw my bare ass in the dressing room.
AND I had on the busted joints at that.
So I do have my dress so push come to shove, I will at least have my dress when JBN and I have to run off and elope in Vegas.
My mother and I are on the outs. She's trying to plan this big, extravagent wedding and she does not understand that I don't want all of that.
She's trying to invite anyone who has every stared at me in the last 24 years to my wedding.
I'm not on that with her.
I understand she's excited but...umm yeah this is MY day!
It's so much we debate about I'm getting a headache just re-thinking about it.
My father and I are on the outs. As usual.
The way I feel about him right now- I don't want his contribution or him in my life.
I told him he'll be lucky if I let him attend, let alone walk me down the aisle.
My younger cousin stole $20 from me while I was in Chicago. Me and that little bitch is not talking. In fact, since she was M.I.A. the rest of the time I was in Chicago, oh don't think I was looking for her, when I go back next month to close on the reception hall, I'm putting my foot up her ass.
My other cousin, the one I got into a fight with on Thanksgiving, had the nerve to twist her lips up and ask can she be in my wedding.
Bitch please.
And not that I care but we *meaning JBN* asked his sister did she want to be a bridesmaid, this heifer: "I'll have to check my schedule". No love is lost between us as you can see. Makes me none. "I" was only asking to be polite since my brother and my male best friend are groomsmen.
Yeah I had to swipe some of his groomsmen. My best friend is a given. My brother...eh he's up in the air. It has already been told that I am not paying a dime for his tux so if he want to be in the wedding I advise he save up.
So I'm really trying not to stress about this wedding and I'm really trying not to snap on people.
I mean it would shave a few numbers off of the reception list but still...I'm so not trying to become a Bridzilla.
I am failing...quite miserably actually...but dang I haven't reached the exploding point yet.
My aunt, my savior right now as she's holding down everything for me in Chicago, we're doing research together, emailing each other back and forth, and because she's like an Arts and Crafts God, she's decorating for the ceremony and reception AND she put me on to this great caterer.
I'm trying to be nice and let my friends pick their own dresses because they are paying for it but I see already I'm going to have to pick out the dresses myself.
Folks' body types are sooo not matching up with the dresses they want. I mean 95% of my friends are top heavier, or at least in "C" cups and strapless is so not the way to go.
Walking tugging up the top.
Breasts spilling all over the top of the dress. Alright for the club but not for my pictures.
So since most of my friends are skanks, I see I'm going to have to find some nice "classy" dresses for them.
Now I am debating with the reception hall because I do not like their menu and I want to bring an outside caterer in. I mean I really want this place but I do not want the food. It's really bland and doesn't look good IMO.
I mean I want soul food. The fattening, the better. I don't want dry ass baked chicken or fish. I want some golden fried chicken/catfish candied yams, macaroni and cheese, collard greens *for the folks who eat that mess*, cabbage *for me*, corbread, etc.
And I prepared to go to war over this.
But elopement is looking like a great possibility as of right now.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Open Forum, Pt 5
Rashan Jamal aka T. Cas asked: 1: How come you ain't call me on your ATL layover?
2. What is the craziest thing you ever said to a guy at the club?
3. Do you actually talk like you write? And if so, please go to this website ( http://www.snapvine.com) and do an audio post so we can hear what you sound like.
1. LOL do you know long ago that lay over was?
Let’s see…at the time I either didn’t have your phone number.
Or I slept during the layover.
If I remember correctly I think it was only an hour and a half layover.
Not sure how far you are from the airport but I figured it would be a bust. By the time you get over, I’ll probably have to turn around and get right back in the security line.
Actually my best friend is pressuring me to come to Atlanta for the 31st-4th of September. I’m still up in the air I’m supposed to get to New York and Virginia Beach during that time.
But hey email me your number again just in case you changed it or something since someone *coughcough* is NEVER online anyway.
…lol ok why did this read like an email?
And ok why will this fuel back up rumors of our “passionate” yet short lived love affair?
LOL…Lemme stop starting shit.
2. You mean when sober or when I was “allegedly” drunk?
I say plenty of crazy things, mainly using old pick up lines spoken to me. I think it’s a lot funnier when I say the same lame crap to men and I receive a puzzled expression back.
It boggles me that “lines” actually work. I mean who is really falling for these lines?
Lines I’ve heard since I developed mosquito bites *or door knobs as they were called in the 7th grade* and begin to fill out my stirrup leggings.
Lines that followed me from bus to bus on my way to school.
Lines that I heard as I walked down the street toward a porch full of guys. Or walking past a group of guys at the food court in the mall.
I like to hit skeevy men with a dose of their own medicine every now and then. You know, reduce them to a piece of meat. Or serve as my own personal eye candy.
So I actively violate space, grope random body parts and whisper sweet nothings in an ear or two.
Wolf whistle *or spit as I tend to do since I can’t whistle* when a “tasty” morsel walks back.
Grab a hand while “seductively” biting my lower yank and yanking my head, like “ay come here”.
Grab a whole cheek. Hell sometimes I go straight for the package. I mean why not sexually harass? I mean him…in those loose fitting jeans? Shit he’s asking for my hands all over his body. I mean he’s asking for it!
Who told him to come out dressed like a future L&O:SVU episode?
But um…the craziest thing?
”Man do fries comes that shake?”
“Damn you thiiiccccckkkkkkkk”
“Aye Bay Bay” *this is BEFORE that cursed song!!**
“Mmm…damn shorty you looking RIGHT…What ‘cho number is?”
“Lemme holla at you for a minute”
“Your body is tight…You a stripper?”
“Aye why don’t we leave the club and you can slide with me to my mama’s house. I mean I have the whole basement on lock!”
And when I get drunk…I’m more crude and misandrist.
Lots of “niggas” and “fuck yous” and that such. *lol*
3. Yes and no.
I speak better English than I write it.
Although I love to read I never paid attention in English class which why I don’t use my verbs, nouns, pro nouns, etc. correctly.
I never learned how to write properly sad to say.
Speak yes. Write no.
And this is from an English major *lol*
I actually don’t like my voice too much. I think it’s too deep. Like “Man” deep.
And I’m just naturally loud. At a “normal” tone, you can still hear me across the room.
When I’m whispering, that’s a regular tone to most.
When I was younger and picked up the phone, people either thought they were talking to my mother…or my father.
Well actually I have been told I have a rather seductive, “Girl 6”, kinda voice.
But then again I think he was just trying to get in my pants *lol*
I’ll go ahead and do the little audio thing but I’ll warn you my voice is NOTHING like you would expect.
2. What is the craziest thing you ever said to a guy at the club?
3. Do you actually talk like you write? And if so, please go to this website ( http://www.snapvine.com) and do an audio post so we can hear what you sound like.
1. LOL do you know long ago that lay over was?
Let’s see…at the time I either didn’t have your phone number.
Or I slept during the layover.
If I remember correctly I think it was only an hour and a half layover.
Not sure how far you are from the airport but I figured it would be a bust. By the time you get over, I’ll probably have to turn around and get right back in the security line.
Actually my best friend is pressuring me to come to Atlanta for the 31st-4th of September. I’m still up in the air I’m supposed to get to New York and Virginia Beach during that time.
But hey email me your number again just in case you changed it or something since someone *coughcough* is NEVER online anyway.
…lol ok why did this read like an email?
And ok why will this fuel back up rumors of our “passionate” yet short lived love affair?
LOL…Lemme stop starting shit.
2. You mean when sober or when I was “allegedly” drunk?
I say plenty of crazy things, mainly using old pick up lines spoken to me. I think it’s a lot funnier when I say the same lame crap to men and I receive a puzzled expression back.
It boggles me that “lines” actually work. I mean who is really falling for these lines?
Lines I’ve heard since I developed mosquito bites *or door knobs as they were called in the 7th grade* and begin to fill out my stirrup leggings.
Lines that followed me from bus to bus on my way to school.
Lines that I heard as I walked down the street toward a porch full of guys. Or walking past a group of guys at the food court in the mall.
I like to hit skeevy men with a dose of their own medicine every now and then. You know, reduce them to a piece of meat. Or serve as my own personal eye candy.
So I actively violate space, grope random body parts and whisper sweet nothings in an ear or two.
Wolf whistle *or spit as I tend to do since I can’t whistle* when a “tasty” morsel walks back.
Grab a hand while “seductively” biting my lower yank and yanking my head, like “ay come here”.
Grab a whole cheek. Hell sometimes I go straight for the package. I mean why not sexually harass? I mean him…in those loose fitting jeans? Shit he’s asking for my hands all over his body. I mean he’s asking for it!
Who told him to come out dressed like a future L&O:SVU episode?
But um…the craziest thing?
”Man do fries comes that shake?”
“Damn you thiiiccccckkkkkkkk”
“Aye Bay Bay” *this is BEFORE that cursed song!!**
“Mmm…damn shorty you looking RIGHT…What ‘cho number is?”
“Lemme holla at you for a minute”
“Your body is tight…You a stripper?”
“Aye why don’t we leave the club and you can slide with me to my mama’s house. I mean I have the whole basement on lock!”
And when I get drunk…I’m more crude and misandrist.
Lots of “niggas” and “fuck yous” and that such. *lol*
3. Yes and no.
I speak better English than I write it.
Although I love to read I never paid attention in English class which why I don’t use my verbs, nouns, pro nouns, etc. correctly.
I never learned how to write properly sad to say.
Speak yes. Write no.
And this is from an English major *lol*
I actually don’t like my voice too much. I think it’s too deep. Like “Man” deep.
And I’m just naturally loud. At a “normal” tone, you can still hear me across the room.
When I’m whispering, that’s a regular tone to most.
When I was younger and picked up the phone, people either thought they were talking to my mother…or my father.
Well actually I have been told I have a rather seductive, “Girl 6”, kinda voice.
But then again I think he was just trying to get in my pants *lol*
I’ll go ahead and do the little audio thing but I’ll warn you my voice is NOTHING like you would expect.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Open Forum Pt. 4
Ms. Lee asked: 1. What is the ideal TENACIOUS day like?
2. The skripper pole has been inadvertently exed out as a career. Are there any other occupations ruled out because of past experience?
3. God's offered you a choice, right here right now: Bigger breasts in exchange for that thick head of hair. Deal or No Deal?
1. My ideal day consists of not going to working, sleeping and eating Cheetos all day on the couch while trying actively to avoid BET when all the good talk shows goes off.
Or doing the “tourist” thing in DC. I’m snapping pictures of the Washington Monument like I don’t see it every day on my way to work.
Bur really for the most part my days are boring. I spend my waking hours at work, really trying to avoid walking out the front door and never coming some days, fielding mindless tasks and answering dumb ass questions for most of the day until I run out the door-literally.
I drive home, hand on the horn for those drivers who can’t “see” my black Camry, although I am right next to them, and they are determined to get in my lane. To go where, since the only thing next to me is the median, I still am clueless about.
Take off my clothes, return phone calls and emails that I couldn’t finish at work, yeah I make personal calls all day at work, and depending on the weather, I pass out outside while sunbathing.
Usually future hubbs gotta call me and remind me to pick him up from work and then I fight rush hour traffic to pick him up.
He usually cooks dinner, we talk about our day, retreat to separate rooms to watch TV because I refuse to watch ESPN, and eventually I pass out.
No glamorous life over here *lol* on most days.
2. Well…I wanted to be an astronaut as a child but then I realized if I hate flying in plane, I definitely am not messing with a space ship. I mean I don’t think I could claw my way off the plane once we’re in the air.
And then I found out astronauts actually do work while they’re in space. You know as a kid I thought they just went up there just to go *lol*
I ruled out being a chef….you actually need to know how to cook in order to be one. And I doubt my “burnt French fries covered in ketchup to cover the fact they’re burnt” and my unintentional “Cajun” meals would hardly be 5 star material.
I really should not have let the coursework *and the fact that I was an alcoholic who hit the bar before class* intimidate me my freshman year otherwise I would have still been on the road to Dr. Ville.
Now I will have to scope out a potential husband, because you know
JBN is a “starter” husband, by staking out John Hopkins or Georgetown’s Medical Centers. I’m going to bag me a neurosurgeon. *lol*
I thought about going back to school in order to pursue a medical career now that I’m “older” but that’s still up in the air.
And I have to find a law firm who will represent me when I sexually harass a patient. Not to mention malpractice suits. You know I will have to leave in the middle of a surgery to get my nails done *lol*
3. If we’re talking about me being completely bald, no deal.
I would look like a walking mental patient without hair.
And my hair is the black hole of sunlight; you know my scalp is light skinned like a mutha.
Now if we’re talking just losing the thickness, then it’s time for a shopping spree at Victoria’s Secret. I can proudly swipe asides the As and Bs in the front and hit the jackpot that’s in the back.
You know I get stares when I’m grabbing the bras from the front.
Maybe I wouldn’t be so aware of my chest if 9 year olds weren’t rocking 34Bs now.
I mean geez what is in the water these days…and how come it isn’t working on me?!
2. The skripper pole has been inadvertently exed out as a career. Are there any other occupations ruled out because of past experience?
3. God's offered you a choice, right here right now: Bigger breasts in exchange for that thick head of hair. Deal or No Deal?
1. My ideal day consists of not going to working, sleeping and eating Cheetos all day on the couch while trying actively to avoid BET when all the good talk shows goes off.
Or doing the “tourist” thing in DC. I’m snapping pictures of the Washington Monument like I don’t see it every day on my way to work.
Bur really for the most part my days are boring. I spend my waking hours at work, really trying to avoid walking out the front door and never coming some days, fielding mindless tasks and answering dumb ass questions for most of the day until I run out the door-literally.
I drive home, hand on the horn for those drivers who can’t “see” my black Camry, although I am right next to them, and they are determined to get in my lane. To go where, since the only thing next to me is the median, I still am clueless about.
Take off my clothes, return phone calls and emails that I couldn’t finish at work, yeah I make personal calls all day at work, and depending on the weather, I pass out outside while sunbathing.
Usually future hubbs gotta call me and remind me to pick him up from work and then I fight rush hour traffic to pick him up.
He usually cooks dinner, we talk about our day, retreat to separate rooms to watch TV because I refuse to watch ESPN, and eventually I pass out.
No glamorous life over here *lol* on most days.
2. Well…I wanted to be an astronaut as a child but then I realized if I hate flying in plane, I definitely am not messing with a space ship. I mean I don’t think I could claw my way off the plane once we’re in the air.
And then I found out astronauts actually do work while they’re in space. You know as a kid I thought they just went up there just to go *lol*
I ruled out being a chef….you actually need to know how to cook in order to be one. And I doubt my “burnt French fries covered in ketchup to cover the fact they’re burnt” and my unintentional “Cajun” meals would hardly be 5 star material.
I really should not have let the coursework *and the fact that I was an alcoholic who hit the bar before class* intimidate me my freshman year otherwise I would have still been on the road to Dr. Ville.
Now I will have to scope out a potential husband, because you know
JBN is a “starter” husband, by staking out John Hopkins or Georgetown’s Medical Centers. I’m going to bag me a neurosurgeon. *lol*
I thought about going back to school in order to pursue a medical career now that I’m “older” but that’s still up in the air.
And I have to find a law firm who will represent me when I sexually harass a patient. Not to mention malpractice suits. You know I will have to leave in the middle of a surgery to get my nails done *lol*
3. If we’re talking about me being completely bald, no deal.
I would look like a walking mental patient without hair.
And my hair is the black hole of sunlight; you know my scalp is light skinned like a mutha.
Now if we’re talking just losing the thickness, then it’s time for a shopping spree at Victoria’s Secret. I can proudly swipe asides the As and Bs in the front and hit the jackpot that’s in the back.
You know I get stares when I’m grabbing the bras from the front.
Maybe I wouldn’t be so aware of my chest if 9 year olds weren’t rocking 34Bs now.
I mean geez what is in the water these days…and how come it isn’t working on me?!
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Open Forum Pt 3
Thic Flair asked: Since yo booty is so big, I really want to know, how do you wipe? Back to front? Or do you just get in the shower?
I can’t believe I am even humoring you by answering this. I am sooo going to punch you in the face when I see you *lol*
1.To answer your question smart ass since my ass is not as big as you think it is. It’s average, the camera just adds like 10 lbs. *lol* I wipe front to back never back to front. Ew that’s just unsanitary.
And then I hop right in the shower. I always have to take a shower after I poo.
This is why I would never poo in a public place because I would have to rush home and hop in the shower.
I think that was TMI for some people. I mean geez Thic, no one wants to hear my poo stories! *lol*
Tom_Gurl asked : 1) How did you go from Nestle Crunch to Hershey Kiss? I'm still Nestle Crunch-and I'm almost 25...and far from impressed!! Any tips on how I can become a Hershey Kiss?
2) If you could do one thing, aboslutely anything-no holds barred what would it be and why?
3) Where in the world, apart from the US, would you want to live in?
1. I didn’t really use anything special. I actually use a lot of Neutrogena products. So much I should own stock. I have weird skin, aside from Clearasil oil-free moisturizer, I can’t really use any other acne medication on my face or it will break out. I think my skin is addicted to Neutrogena product. I'm not sure if anyone else uses the products but I swear by them.
It’s been a long struggle trust me. I think my skin finally began clearing up in college and aside from a break out or two when I’m stressed or I got more than a day without washing my face, my face stays pretty clear. I do have my “spots” where I break out more, namely my cheeks, chin and temples, but a little TLC *and drowning them pimples in acne medication* and I’m good to go.
I only wash my face in the shower. Never in the sink. At night I religiously slather on my overnight acne medication. I use as little alcohol products as possible. Minimum make-up. I don’t pick at my face and I’m very particular about people’s hands on my face, who knows the last time they’ve washed their hands and I try to keep as few hair products from touching my face.
And as much as I love the sun, I try to limit the amount of sunlight that hits my face. When it’s extremely hot I get heat bumps and those bitches take forever to go away.
Trust me it was a loooong process and it took months before I saw results. I mean at the time I guess the old “toothpaste dries your pimples out” theory didn’t work for me, it actually burned my skin. And then it took forever for my old acne scars to fade.
I dot on Neosporin at night as well to fade the old acne scars. It takes a while before you see results but so far I'm pleased with the results.
TLC, as many products from your favorite acne medication line, religious usage, and putting as little things on your face as possible is really my only tricks.
OK that and plenty of sex. *lol*
When my skin finally cleared up, the first things folks swore was that I was fucking.
And getting fucked pretty damn well at that.
I mean folks sniffing on me like, "Girl....you fucking?!" then demand to know why my face was so clear when I said "No".
Shit some of the crusty ass niggaz I fucked with couldn't clear up a cold let alone some pimples.
Umm yeah but I kinda filed that theory under the “Getting your titties sucked will make them bigger” and “Getting hit from the back will make your booty bigger” folder.
So results may vary *lol*
But....if you do meet a guy, yall fucking, and your skin clears up overnight, beware.
You might have run up on some "crack dick".
And honey if you’re chocolate, trust you’re a Hershey Kiss already ;-)
2. LOL you know my psychotic ass instantly thought “murder”.
But as many people as I would love to run over with a car that might make me a serial killer.
And I am too pretty for jail *lol*
But I’m such a lame, I would probably travel the world. Spend a few years just circling the globe. Visit all the places I love to watch on the Discovery Channel and The History Channel. See the places my ancestors may have roamed. See history up close.
I love to travel and I could just backpack it, ok well maybe not backpack it, I’ve seen Hostel, shit I’m going to need a real hotel and shower, across Europe and Asia. Hit up Africa. See Australia. Even pack the snow suit and visit Antarctica.
Snapping pictures and writing about it. It’s nice to watch the stuff on TV but I actually want to be one of those people who has been there, actually touched a piece of history.
I know…eternal nerd walking.
3. I would run off to Spain. No question. One of my friends went there for study abroad and brought back a load of pictures and videos.
Drink in the culture, the people, and the amazing scenery.
Not to mention the sexy Spanish men. Come te llamas indeed.
Just the landscape alone was enough to make me pack my bags and leave.
Then I realized I need a passport.
And I need to learn to speak something better than my 3rd grade Spanish.
I can’t believe I am even humoring you by answering this. I am sooo going to punch you in the face when I see you *lol*
1.To answer your question smart ass since my ass is not as big as you think it is. It’s average, the camera just adds like 10 lbs. *lol* I wipe front to back never back to front. Ew that’s just unsanitary.
And then I hop right in the shower. I always have to take a shower after I poo.
This is why I would never poo in a public place because I would have to rush home and hop in the shower.
I think that was TMI for some people. I mean geez Thic, no one wants to hear my poo stories! *lol*
Tom_Gurl asked : 1) How did you go from Nestle Crunch to Hershey Kiss? I'm still Nestle Crunch-and I'm almost 25...and far from impressed!! Any tips on how I can become a Hershey Kiss?
2) If you could do one thing, aboslutely anything-no holds barred what would it be and why?
3) Where in the world, apart from the US, would you want to live in?
1. I didn’t really use anything special. I actually use a lot of Neutrogena products. So much I should own stock. I have weird skin, aside from Clearasil oil-free moisturizer, I can’t really use any other acne medication on my face or it will break out. I think my skin is addicted to Neutrogena product. I'm not sure if anyone else uses the products but I swear by them.
It’s been a long struggle trust me. I think my skin finally began clearing up in college and aside from a break out or two when I’m stressed or I got more than a day without washing my face, my face stays pretty clear. I do have my “spots” where I break out more, namely my cheeks, chin and temples, but a little TLC *and drowning them pimples in acne medication* and I’m good to go.
I only wash my face in the shower. Never in the sink. At night I religiously slather on my overnight acne medication. I use as little alcohol products as possible. Minimum make-up. I don’t pick at my face and I’m very particular about people’s hands on my face, who knows the last time they’ve washed their hands and I try to keep as few hair products from touching my face.
And as much as I love the sun, I try to limit the amount of sunlight that hits my face. When it’s extremely hot I get heat bumps and those bitches take forever to go away.
Trust me it was a loooong process and it took months before I saw results. I mean at the time I guess the old “toothpaste dries your pimples out” theory didn’t work for me, it actually burned my skin. And then it took forever for my old acne scars to fade.
I dot on Neosporin at night as well to fade the old acne scars. It takes a while before you see results but so far I'm pleased with the results.
TLC, as many products from your favorite acne medication line, religious usage, and putting as little things on your face as possible is really my only tricks.
OK that and plenty of sex. *lol*
When my skin finally cleared up, the first things folks swore was that I was fucking.
And getting fucked pretty damn well at that.
I mean folks sniffing on me like, "Girl....you fucking?!" then demand to know why my face was so clear when I said "No".
Shit some of the crusty ass niggaz I fucked with couldn't clear up a cold let alone some pimples.
Umm yeah but I kinda filed that theory under the “Getting your titties sucked will make them bigger” and “Getting hit from the back will make your booty bigger” folder.
So results may vary *lol*
But....if you do meet a guy, yall fucking, and your skin clears up overnight, beware.
You might have run up on some "crack dick".
And honey if you’re chocolate, trust you’re a Hershey Kiss already ;-)
2. LOL you know my psychotic ass instantly thought “murder”.
But as many people as I would love to run over with a car that might make me a serial killer.
And I am too pretty for jail *lol*
But I’m such a lame, I would probably travel the world. Spend a few years just circling the globe. Visit all the places I love to watch on the Discovery Channel and The History Channel. See the places my ancestors may have roamed. See history up close.
I love to travel and I could just backpack it, ok well maybe not backpack it, I’ve seen Hostel, shit I’m going to need a real hotel and shower, across Europe and Asia. Hit up Africa. See Australia. Even pack the snow suit and visit Antarctica.
Snapping pictures and writing about it. It’s nice to watch the stuff on TV but I actually want to be one of those people who has been there, actually touched a piece of history.
I know…eternal nerd walking.
3. I would run off to Spain. No question. One of my friends went there for study abroad and brought back a load of pictures and videos.
Drink in the culture, the people, and the amazing scenery.
Not to mention the sexy Spanish men. Come te llamas indeed.
Just the landscape alone was enough to make me pack my bags and leave.
Then I realized I need a passport.
And I need to learn to speak something better than my 3rd grade Spanish.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Open Forum, Pt. 2
PRO asked: Question #1. Were you raised to be comfortable in your own skin, and with that, were you always proud of your rich, beautiful, dark complexion?
#2. Were you ever a cheerleader?
#3. Are you looking forward to bliss and nuptials with JBN?
#4. Have you ever put on a striptease for a guy? What song would be appropriate for your number?
#5. Have my questions made you blush?
#6. Will you forgive me for being so caught up with my new job and all of its responsibilities that I haven't diligently visited my few FAVORITE blog sites regularly? Now I gotta catch up with yesterday's response. Oh, cyber hug me if we still kewl. *lol*
1. I was raised to be comfortable in my skin which is probably why I act the way I do *lol* I mean my mother and grandmother are dark skinned and naturally I idolize them. I guess I didn’t have other images around me, or none that I actively, noticed to change my mind. Black has always been beautiful to me.
I mean I had my awkward stages. I mean I wore thick glasses, had acne, skinny as a rail and generally looked the part of a “nerd”. Well until I opened my mouth and it completely screwed up the image. *lol* Loud, aggressive, bossy and just a plain out right bully.
I’ve been called ugly before. Passed over for my lighter skinned, longer hair friends. I admit sometimes my extremely high self confidence was shattered. Sometimes that still plagues me, little insecurities that I have that I can’t shake.
But you know what? I give all the credit to my parents. As much I can’t stand my father he always told me I was pretty. I was smart. I was better looking than so and so. My mother, when I would sometimes cry when little mean spirited jokes cut into me when I was all alone and after I successfully managed to roast that person to death but their little digs did get at me, told me to never let anyone tear me down. She told it’s me it all part of growing up, she would show me pictures during her awkward stages and I was amazed. I was like well if my mother went through it and she’s this amazing beautiful creature now and I’m her daughter, well dammit I can too.
I mean now I’m at the point where stuff doesn’t faze me. Sure I know I’m not the prettiest female out there, hell I know prettier, seen prettier up close but I know I’m cute. I look at my own transformation and smile. Insults don’t even bother me. I mean I can only be me. I’m blessed to have a wonderful childhood, wonderful people in my life. And a sharp tongue *lol*.
And I’ve always been proud of my skin. I’ve never wanted to be light skinned. Maybe have longer hair after I chopped mine off because I wanted a “box” cut like my older god sister and I hated it the next day and my shit haven’t grown right since, but never the skin. Maybe because I didn’t grow up around a lot of light skinned people. I was aware of the “light v. dark” debates and preferences but I guess it never sank into my consciousness. I like being dark. I tan every summer just so that I can remain dark.
Of course that doesn’t mean I’m not irritated by the notion that darker people are not supposed to have good looks. Or the looks of surprise when people see I don’t have the “wide nose or big lips” someone of my complexion are supposed to have. I remember this guy told me I had a “white girl’s nose” and had the nerve to twist his lips and ask me did I have a nose job. I guess I didn’t get those memos.
I mean I could dedicate a whole blog entry about my skin but yeah, I’m pretty darn proud of my skin. When I had bad acne I used to joke that I had “Nestle Crunch” skin **lol yeah I talk about myself. Call it a defense mechanism or just plain out craziness** and now I’m a Hershey Kiss.
2. LOL no I was never a cheerleader. I ran track but never a cheerleader. I went to an extremely ghetto high school and because I couldn’t twerk my ass like the rest of the girls, I was brutally cut from the team. Like I wanted to wear spray painted t shirts and dukes popping my ass to “Back That Ass Up” by Juvenile. My high school didn’t have “traditional” cheerleaders—we had a strict Pom Pom Team and their whole purpose: To dance during half time. No cheering on the team, no creative cheers, just a lot of ass shaking.
Half were pregnant by the end of the year and would wear their little uniform, now tight around the belly with the buttons on the dukes undone to accommodate their expanding belly, to walk pigeon toed down the school hall.
3. I’m looking forward to the actual marriage but not the wedding. I think I’m going to elope. Seriously. We just set the date and I have been bombarded with phone calls already from family, bringing some new worry in my life. When I’m in Chicago next week, my best friend and I are going to look at churches and reception halls.
I guess since I’ve been with him for 5 years it’s no biggie to us. It’s just a change of titles as far as we’re concerned. I really need to stop calling him a “boyfriend” though I think I get people confused because I refer to him as that.
I love this guy and I just want to be his wife. He knows me and accepts me for all my craziness. At this point I honestly think I will never meet another man as patient as he is *lol*
4. Now come on Pro you know I’ve gotten my stripper-ness on quite a few times. I mean most of the time it didn’t go according to plan, like the time I had a “blond moment” and decided to use the floor lamp as a pole and crashed to the ground with me and the lamp.
Or the time I had on heels and was standing over him in the bed, gyrating and touching the ceiling with my fingertips and tooted my little booty out too far and I fell off the bed.
Or the time I was giving JBN a lap dance in his room and his room mate walked in.
Ummm…..yeah.
But I’m into little things like that. Dressing up, dancing, and stripping. I watch too many damn movies *lol* I believe in keeping my man entertained even if I’m being completely silly about it. I may have taken out the lamp but damn if I didn’t sit there and laugh, got up, replayed the song and did it again. Hell we both were laughing.
Honestly…I use a lot of R. Kelly songs. His older stuff mainly, you know when he was molesting Aaliyah and shit, and I can’t really think too much about his lyrics otherwise I creep myself out and I turn it off because I’m sure he was sleeping with some child around that time but I’ll slide on 12 Play, or R Kelly and get to work like Diamond on “Player’s Club”
A little of the old Janet here and there, some Prince. The freakier songs the better.
5. Yeah a little bit. But it was more the compliments you tossed in there than the actual questions.
Another secret about me: I blush so easily. I wasn’t even aware I even blushed until an old co-worker pointed it out to me and he was a White guy.
I disputed his down until this dude I had a mini crush on who used to come into my job all the time came over and asked me a question. Sure it was “where can I find the ketchup” but I felt me blushing so hard, I just ran back in the kitchen. And then my co worker came sliding in with a smirk on his face and teased me for like a couple of days.
6. I forgive you if you forgive me *hug* I’ve been slipping on my blog readings.
And writing. I need to get it together.
Wow this is so fun.
Any questions?
#2. Were you ever a cheerleader?
#3. Are you looking forward to bliss and nuptials with JBN?
#4. Have you ever put on a striptease for a guy? What song would be appropriate for your number?
#5. Have my questions made you blush?
#6. Will you forgive me for being so caught up with my new job and all of its responsibilities that I haven't diligently visited my few FAVORITE blog sites regularly? Now I gotta catch up with yesterday's response. Oh, cyber hug me if we still kewl. *lol*
1. I was raised to be comfortable in my skin which is probably why I act the way I do *lol* I mean my mother and grandmother are dark skinned and naturally I idolize them. I guess I didn’t have other images around me, or none that I actively, noticed to change my mind. Black has always been beautiful to me.
I mean I had my awkward stages. I mean I wore thick glasses, had acne, skinny as a rail and generally looked the part of a “nerd”. Well until I opened my mouth and it completely screwed up the image. *lol* Loud, aggressive, bossy and just a plain out right bully.
I’ve been called ugly before. Passed over for my lighter skinned, longer hair friends. I admit sometimes my extremely high self confidence was shattered. Sometimes that still plagues me, little insecurities that I have that I can’t shake.
But you know what? I give all the credit to my parents. As much I can’t stand my father he always told me I was pretty. I was smart. I was better looking than so and so. My mother, when I would sometimes cry when little mean spirited jokes cut into me when I was all alone and after I successfully managed to roast that person to death but their little digs did get at me, told me to never let anyone tear me down. She told it’s me it all part of growing up, she would show me pictures during her awkward stages and I was amazed. I was like well if my mother went through it and she’s this amazing beautiful creature now and I’m her daughter, well dammit I can too.
I mean now I’m at the point where stuff doesn’t faze me. Sure I know I’m not the prettiest female out there, hell I know prettier, seen prettier up close but I know I’m cute. I look at my own transformation and smile. Insults don’t even bother me. I mean I can only be me. I’m blessed to have a wonderful childhood, wonderful people in my life. And a sharp tongue *lol*.
And I’ve always been proud of my skin. I’ve never wanted to be light skinned. Maybe have longer hair after I chopped mine off because I wanted a “box” cut like my older god sister and I hated it the next day and my shit haven’t grown right since, but never the skin. Maybe because I didn’t grow up around a lot of light skinned people. I was aware of the “light v. dark” debates and preferences but I guess it never sank into my consciousness. I like being dark. I tan every summer just so that I can remain dark.
Of course that doesn’t mean I’m not irritated by the notion that darker people are not supposed to have good looks. Or the looks of surprise when people see I don’t have the “wide nose or big lips” someone of my complexion are supposed to have. I remember this guy told me I had a “white girl’s nose” and had the nerve to twist his lips and ask me did I have a nose job. I guess I didn’t get those memos.
I mean I could dedicate a whole blog entry about my skin but yeah, I’m pretty darn proud of my skin. When I had bad acne I used to joke that I had “Nestle Crunch” skin **lol yeah I talk about myself. Call it a defense mechanism or just plain out craziness** and now I’m a Hershey Kiss.
2. LOL no I was never a cheerleader. I ran track but never a cheerleader. I went to an extremely ghetto high school and because I couldn’t twerk my ass like the rest of the girls, I was brutally cut from the team. Like I wanted to wear spray painted t shirts and dukes popping my ass to “Back That Ass Up” by Juvenile. My high school didn’t have “traditional” cheerleaders—we had a strict Pom Pom Team and their whole purpose: To dance during half time. No cheering on the team, no creative cheers, just a lot of ass shaking.
Half were pregnant by the end of the year and would wear their little uniform, now tight around the belly with the buttons on the dukes undone to accommodate their expanding belly, to walk pigeon toed down the school hall.
3. I’m looking forward to the actual marriage but not the wedding. I think I’m going to elope. Seriously. We just set the date and I have been bombarded with phone calls already from family, bringing some new worry in my life. When I’m in Chicago next week, my best friend and I are going to look at churches and reception halls.
I guess since I’ve been with him for 5 years it’s no biggie to us. It’s just a change of titles as far as we’re concerned. I really need to stop calling him a “boyfriend” though I think I get people confused because I refer to him as that.
I love this guy and I just want to be his wife. He knows me and accepts me for all my craziness. At this point I honestly think I will never meet another man as patient as he is *lol*
4. Now come on Pro you know I’ve gotten my stripper-ness on quite a few times. I mean most of the time it didn’t go according to plan, like the time I had a “blond moment” and decided to use the floor lamp as a pole and crashed to the ground with me and the lamp.
Or the time I had on heels and was standing over him in the bed, gyrating and touching the ceiling with my fingertips and tooted my little booty out too far and I fell off the bed.
Or the time I was giving JBN a lap dance in his room and his room mate walked in.
Ummm…..yeah.
But I’m into little things like that. Dressing up, dancing, and stripping. I watch too many damn movies *lol* I believe in keeping my man entertained even if I’m being completely silly about it. I may have taken out the lamp but damn if I didn’t sit there and laugh, got up, replayed the song and did it again. Hell we both were laughing.
Honestly…I use a lot of R. Kelly songs. His older stuff mainly, you know when he was molesting Aaliyah and shit, and I can’t really think too much about his lyrics otherwise I creep myself out and I turn it off because I’m sure he was sleeping with some child around that time but I’ll slide on 12 Play, or R Kelly and get to work like Diamond on “Player’s Club”
A little of the old Janet here and there, some Prince. The freakier songs the better.
5. Yeah a little bit. But it was more the compliments you tossed in there than the actual questions.
Another secret about me: I blush so easily. I wasn’t even aware I even blushed until an old co-worker pointed it out to me and he was a White guy.
I disputed his down until this dude I had a mini crush on who used to come into my job all the time came over and asked me a question. Sure it was “where can I find the ketchup” but I felt me blushing so hard, I just ran back in the kitchen. And then my co worker came sliding in with a smirk on his face and teased me for like a couple of days.
6. I forgive you if you forgive me *hug* I’ve been slipping on my blog readings.
And writing. I need to get it together.
Wow this is so fun.
Any questions?
Friday, August 10, 2007
Open Forum Answer Pt. 1
HONEY asked: Hmmm what to ask, what to ask. Have you ever had a stalker and if so who what when where and how LOL...or whatever you wanna do to relay the story great
Have I ever had a stalker? Girl please, I think I have Stalk Me stamped on my forehead. Or maybe since I’m so crazy I attract nothing but crazy guys.
Let’s see my first “serious” relationship was in High School and needless to say after the object of my affection *at the time* showed his crazy side by seriously believing I would love to have his child-with or without my permission-and decided to speed up my reluctance to have children by conveniently poking holes in the condoms and upon receiving my “Aunt Flo” every month inquired why his tacky ass tactics weren’t working-we broke up.
But you know I “knew” he was a little off but you know what? I ignored the fucking signs.
As many people do.
Ugly breakup much?
Ok so after following me home after school for weeks, note his school was on the other side of town and he would leave early JUST to follow me home, breaking into my crib once and WAITING for me in my bedroom because after obsessively beating on my door *I wasn’t home at the time* he was convinced I slipped and fell in the tub *ummm riiight…ok* and was unconscious, he “noticed” my mother’s bedroom window cracked, managed to jump the tall chain link fence and got in our crib. Oh not to mention he would take to popping out the alley like an extra from “Thriller” screaming and yelling obscenities.
He even thought he was going to Prom with me, asking me what time he should pick me up and what colors are we wearing.
And the killing part is he would do this shit when my mother wasn’t around so she couldn’t attest to his craziness. The time he broke in before it could get super ugly because I was sure he was going to stab me in the eye with my Hello Kitty pencil, my mother came in from work AND she was more mad that I had a boy in the house when she wasn’t home then the terrified expression on my face.
And of course she thought I was exaggerating about his craziness. I mean he went to church EVERY Sunday and he was all “Yes Ma’am, No Ma’am”- no way in hell he could be a sociopath, right?
I mean is that good parenting or what? *lol*
I had to go and pick the fucking preacher’s son who was all sunshine and good dreams in front of adults and the devil’s spawn behind closed doors.
It got kinda scary, well for a 17 year old girl, at the time. I mean Chicago is a big ass city and sure I have my regular haunts that I frequent, meaning in high school, every damn mall in the city. But I mean, come on, you’re just out in River Oaks at the same time as me, just browsing in Strawberry? Getthefuckouttahere.
I mean my high school pussy wasn’t that good but shit he made me feel like my shit was on “Titanium” after dealing with him.
I had to go to college downstate in order for him to leave me the hell alone. Oh but don’t worry. Every time and I mean every time I came home, he must have sniffed me out, he would make a point of coming over to curse me out.
I told him to seek therapy many of times but sadly his HMO won’t pay for it, I mean that’s a whole lotta crazy to pay for.
And this is still to this date. The fact that we broke up in early ’01 means nothing to him. Oh and how about he got a baby moms now and that still doesn’t stop him. I’m still the chick “who screwed up his life”.
Um like impregnating me wouldn’t have ruined mine.
Although the last few times I went to Chicago, I didn’t see him but I can count on a phone call from him every few months or so. He calls me a bitch and I just hang up. He has long used up his “Bitch” quota for the year.
And then again he was the first of several stalkers in my life.
*shrug* I guess I bring out all forms of hate in a guy *lol*
Any questions?
Have I ever had a stalker? Girl please, I think I have Stalk Me stamped on my forehead. Or maybe since I’m so crazy I attract nothing but crazy guys.
Let’s see my first “serious” relationship was in High School and needless to say after the object of my affection *at the time* showed his crazy side by seriously believing I would love to have his child-with or without my permission-and decided to speed up my reluctance to have children by conveniently poking holes in the condoms and upon receiving my “Aunt Flo” every month inquired why his tacky ass tactics weren’t working-we broke up.
But you know I “knew” he was a little off but you know what? I ignored the fucking signs.
As many people do.
Ugly breakup much?
Ok so after following me home after school for weeks, note his school was on the other side of town and he would leave early JUST to follow me home, breaking into my crib once and WAITING for me in my bedroom because after obsessively beating on my door *I wasn’t home at the time* he was convinced I slipped and fell in the tub *ummm riiight…ok* and was unconscious, he “noticed” my mother’s bedroom window cracked, managed to jump the tall chain link fence and got in our crib. Oh not to mention he would take to popping out the alley like an extra from “Thriller” screaming and yelling obscenities.
He even thought he was going to Prom with me, asking me what time he should pick me up and what colors are we wearing.
And the killing part is he would do this shit when my mother wasn’t around so she couldn’t attest to his craziness. The time he broke in before it could get super ugly because I was sure he was going to stab me in the eye with my Hello Kitty pencil, my mother came in from work AND she was more mad that I had a boy in the house when she wasn’t home then the terrified expression on my face.
And of course she thought I was exaggerating about his craziness. I mean he went to church EVERY Sunday and he was all “Yes Ma’am, No Ma’am”- no way in hell he could be a sociopath, right?
I mean is that good parenting or what? *lol*
I had to go and pick the fucking preacher’s son who was all sunshine and good dreams in front of adults and the devil’s spawn behind closed doors.
It got kinda scary, well for a 17 year old girl, at the time. I mean Chicago is a big ass city and sure I have my regular haunts that I frequent, meaning in high school, every damn mall in the city. But I mean, come on, you’re just out in River Oaks at the same time as me, just browsing in Strawberry? Getthefuckouttahere.
I mean my high school pussy wasn’t that good but shit he made me feel like my shit was on “Titanium” after dealing with him.
I had to go to college downstate in order for him to leave me the hell alone. Oh but don’t worry. Every time and I mean every time I came home, he must have sniffed me out, he would make a point of coming over to curse me out.
I told him to seek therapy many of times but sadly his HMO won’t pay for it, I mean that’s a whole lotta crazy to pay for.
And this is still to this date. The fact that we broke up in early ’01 means nothing to him. Oh and how about he got a baby moms now and that still doesn’t stop him. I’m still the chick “who screwed up his life”.
Um like impregnating me wouldn’t have ruined mine.
Although the last few times I went to Chicago, I didn’t see him but I can count on a phone call from him every few months or so. He calls me a bitch and I just hang up. He has long used up his “Bitch” quota for the year.
And then again he was the first of several stalkers in my life.
*shrug* I guess I bring out all forms of hate in a guy *lol*
Any questions?
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Open Forum....
A lazy ass cop-out I know I know
But I have no idea what I want to write about
So you can either ask me a question and I'll answer it OR if you want to know a funny experience that you think I've gone through, I'll blog about that.
Otherwise until I go out of town yet again I have nothing.
Ask away. Trust you won't have this chance...until the next time I really run out of shit to ramble about.
Although...I do have to wonder...Do people still put music on their voicemail or is that played out?
Just asking *lol*
But I have no idea what I want to write about
So you can either ask me a question and I'll answer it OR if you want to know a funny experience that you think I've gone through, I'll blog about that.
Otherwise until I go out of town yet again I have nothing.
Ask away. Trust you won't have this chance...until the next time I really run out of shit to ramble about.
Although...I do have to wonder...Do people still put music on their voicemail or is that played out?
Just asking *lol*
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
No Freak'Em Dress Weekend....
Due to the fact that I have absolutely NOTHING to randomly talk about, as my best friend FH did visit me this weekend but alas due to relationship vows moped around my apartment like that cat when we close the screen doors in the morning.
I mean I had the Freak’Em Dress, Shoes and Panties ready for a night of fun.
Damn what anyone says: I like that song.
Although in the video, B’s dresses were more “Hookah’s Point” than “Freak’Em”
She’s really asking for some chick to get that ass tapped in the club by her significant other for coming out in Colored Saran Wrap and heels.
I mean I was so ready to go to the club and probably get tossed out for sexually harassing the cute bouncers/bartenders.
Flash random guys on the streets.
Lewdly comment on men’s body parts while they’re within ear shot.
And of course holler “Well fuck you Bitch, you weren’t that cute anyways!” when our cat calls of “Ay Bay Bay”, “Scoo Scoo”, “Yo Yo Yo” or our imitations of bird calls go ignored.
You know, typical Friday Night Fun when we’re together *lol*
But alas she sobbed in the pillows all weekend, too drained and upset to go out.
I’m serving up Hot Cocoa and rubbing her back and shit.
JBN sliding out the door because he don’t do “tears and shit”.
So basically I didn’t do shit this weekend because every time we went out someone “reminded” her of her guy and lips would start trembling.
Ignore the fact that this could be a dude in a hoody. She’s tearing up like, *sob* *weep* “D wears hoodies!!!!”
*insert eye roll*
Yall know I’m not for all that display of emotions and shit.
See people this is a clear example of “Crack Dick”.
And another reason why I’m content with B- penis.
Please you’ll never catch me, Tenacious, falling the fuck out over an argument JBN and I have had.
Shit we argue all the time. Hell it’s become a game for us.
Granted her guy did some fucked up shit and because she’s my girl I’m not going to air out her laundry—sure I’ll air her ass out—but not her personal stuff.
I do have some sort of conscious.
And besides she read this from time to time *lol*
Girl..You know I love you *LMAO*
But *whine* she fucked up my weekend.
I can’t have my Freak’Em Girl Dress on while she’s rocking straight sweats and some flip flops.
Damn how can we go to the club and she’s ready to cry at every dark skinned dude because his skin reminds her of her boyfriend?!
Scaring off the men and shit.
We did however see The Simpson’s Movie. Ok well I did. She got a phone call from him in the middle of the movie and damn near broke my legs getting out the aisle.
The only time I’ve seen her run that fast was when we were chasing the Ice Cream truck.
Not the one that sold strictly Soft Serve Ice Cream but the Popsicle one.
**Note: In the Chi, we have two kinds of Ice Cream Trucks**
She was gone so long I forgot she even came with my ass.
I told her let me have made it to the parking lot and she didn’t show up, Bitch will be walking back to the crib and shit.
We left and went to Bailey’s where our waiter was more into playing his X-Box 360 while on the clock than serving us our food.
You know I wanted to speak to the manager *lol*
So after a few Margaritas we were ready to go. We had plan of finally going out but we went to sleep watching Inside Man on HBO.
And that was my weekend pretty much.
See? Nothing to write about *lol*
I mean I had the Freak’Em Dress, Shoes and Panties ready for a night of fun.
Damn what anyone says: I like that song.
Although in the video, B’s dresses were more “Hookah’s Point” than “Freak’Em”
She’s really asking for some chick to get that ass tapped in the club by her significant other for coming out in Colored Saran Wrap and heels.
I mean I was so ready to go to the club and probably get tossed out for sexually harassing the cute bouncers/bartenders.
Flash random guys on the streets.
Lewdly comment on men’s body parts while they’re within ear shot.
And of course holler “Well fuck you Bitch, you weren’t that cute anyways!” when our cat calls of “Ay Bay Bay”, “Scoo Scoo”, “Yo Yo Yo” or our imitations of bird calls go ignored.
You know, typical Friday Night Fun when we’re together *lol*
But alas she sobbed in the pillows all weekend, too drained and upset to go out.
I’m serving up Hot Cocoa and rubbing her back and shit.
JBN sliding out the door because he don’t do “tears and shit”.
So basically I didn’t do shit this weekend because every time we went out someone “reminded” her of her guy and lips would start trembling.
Ignore the fact that this could be a dude in a hoody. She’s tearing up like, *sob* *weep* “D wears hoodies!!!!”
*insert eye roll*
Yall know I’m not for all that display of emotions and shit.
See people this is a clear example of “Crack Dick”.
And another reason why I’m content with B- penis.
Please you’ll never catch me, Tenacious, falling the fuck out over an argument JBN and I have had.
Shit we argue all the time. Hell it’s become a game for us.
Granted her guy did some fucked up shit and because she’s my girl I’m not going to air out her laundry—sure I’ll air her ass out—but not her personal stuff.
I do have some sort of conscious.
And besides she read this from time to time *lol*
Girl..You know I love you *LMAO*
But *whine* she fucked up my weekend.
I can’t have my Freak’Em Girl Dress on while she’s rocking straight sweats and some flip flops.
Damn how can we go to the club and she’s ready to cry at every dark skinned dude because his skin reminds her of her boyfriend?!
Scaring off the men and shit.
We did however see The Simpson’s Movie. Ok well I did. She got a phone call from him in the middle of the movie and damn near broke my legs getting out the aisle.
The only time I’ve seen her run that fast was when we were chasing the Ice Cream truck.
Not the one that sold strictly Soft Serve Ice Cream but the Popsicle one.
**Note: In the Chi, we have two kinds of Ice Cream Trucks**
She was gone so long I forgot she even came with my ass.
I told her let me have made it to the parking lot and she didn’t show up, Bitch will be walking back to the crib and shit.
We left and went to Bailey’s where our waiter was more into playing his X-Box 360 while on the clock than serving us our food.
You know I wanted to speak to the manager *lol*
So after a few Margaritas we were ready to go. We had plan of finally going out but we went to sleep watching Inside Man on HBO.
And that was my weekend pretty much.
See? Nothing to write about *lol*
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Airport Adventures....
It’s no secret that I hate to fly.
I hate flying with a passion.
Not because I have a fear that I will end up on the plane where someone, tired of performing routine maintenance checks because it was one of those “I Quit This Bitch” workdays, will shirk on their duties and I end up on the fucked up aircraft that will crash shortly after takeoff.
Or the one that gets in the air and the engines decide to fail. Or the wing fall off or something.
I know pretty morbid and fucked up thoughts but that’s all that I think of when flying. I’m so paranoid that any noise, I mean noise have me pressing the call button and I’m demanding that the flight attendant investigate the noise while I eye the exit row doors and debate that if I claw my way off the plane and use a couple of tied together blankets as a parachute will I make it to the ground with just a few broken bones.
I’m never scared of terrorists, however, because I’ll beat a motherfucker’s ass if he or she thinks I’m going to let you make it to the pilot door and crash the plane into some building.
I’m from the Chi bitch! Don’t play with me. Shit I can work a box cutter too with the best of them.
You see my braiding the hair to the back and smearing carmex on the face *can’t bring gels on the plane now so hell gotta make due* just know it’s time to fight on that bitch.
That or you’ll see me clawing my way to the exit row.
I am not a hero *lol*
But I came to this conclusion upon yet another trip to Chicago and waiting in an obnoxiously long line to get my boarding pass.
I remember the days when I would go to the kiosk because I rarely checked luggage and I’ll be on my merry way.
Now? Shit I pack a bottle of Baby Lotion and my black ass has to brave the line with everyone else. I don’t do that travel size bullshit. These thighs need a full bottle of lotion. And I am not in the business of buying stuff at my destination that I already have at home.
Toothpaste is too expensive to have two full size tubes just chilling at the crib. Then it dries out and looks all crusty and stuff. Who wants to use crusty toothpaste?
Damn United Airlines would open the lines at 5 am….when I have a 6 am flight.
And I would be #60 in the long line of impatient travelers, who like me, was very pissed that we were standing in line for close to an hour waiting for United Airlines lines to open.
I mean, damn you try to follow the “2 Hours Before Departure” procedures *in my case usually an hour or less since I live less than five minutes from DCA* and look what happens.
And then you have the idiots who hog up all the kiosk because they’re afraid the machine is going to charge their credit card and in that case they want to use a different credit card but oh that means they have to dig through their luggage to find that credit card and wouldn’t you know it that bag is overweight so I’m going to spend 20 minutes shifting things around from suitcase to suitcase to avoid paying that “overweight luggage” fee and oh no the fucking stroller won’t fold up for the fucking 8 year old it belongs to and guess what?
NO ONE SPEAKS ONE FUCKING WORD OF ENGLISH!!!!
*deep breathe*
I hate flying.
So after dying six or seven times and being reincarnated to stand in the same line *my personal hell I guess* I finally get to the machine and then drag my bag, after a fucking inquisition on whether or not it’s my bag because yeah I make it a habit of traveling with other people’s shit to a new city, to the security area where I then wait to make sure my bag go through the machine and they don’t have a reason to rip my shit open like when I went to Orlando and they found my “suspicious” flat irons in the bag.
Like I’m going to use a $150 Chi Flat Iron as a bomb.
Nigga is you nuts?!
Of course the run of the mill security check where budget cuts must means I can’t get paper slippers for my bare feet anymore like I want my feet on the nasty ass linoleum.
And of course when you have less than 10 minutes to make it to your gate you have that one person who must have been DEAF as they’ve ignored the constant annoying voice droning on about prohibited items, like that BIG ASS bottle of shampoo is not a liquid.
And then want to debate over why the shampoo should not be tossed away.
Medical reason my ass. Herbal Essence is not medicinal shampoo. And if it was can I know what flight you’re on so I can make sure I’m not next to your lice-ridden ass. I don’t want them fuckers popping up in my damn head!
I already get sick on every single flight, that’s all my ass need is some lice in my relaxed hair. My hair is already super thick I don’t need creatures crawling around in my hair I’m walking around smelling like Vicks and Septum Blue. No thanks.
So finally I get through with no problems. I’ve learned to stop wearing under wire bras when I travel because I’m tired of explaining while my breasts are going off.
In fact I’m tired of being felt up at the airport period. If I was a national security threat I would hope I wouldn’t be so stupid as to strap on the bomb before I made it through security.
Although when I had nipple rings it was another story.
Face all red while I have to whisper why my titties are going off and it’s clear I don’t have on a bra.
And then that one loud guard who wanna put your shit on blast super loud and now people are looking at you like you’re a freak. And maybe that guy who was leering at me in line and I was anxious to get away from him NOW have a reason to go in for the kill and bother me all the way to my gate and lawd don’t let us be on the same flight. I damn near have to get ignant and get tossed off the plane in order to get rid of Creepy McCreepy who’s all like “Sooo…when Ima see these nipples rings? I bet they look as tasty as you…”
*shudder*
Sorry. Bad experience *lol*
I finally make it to my gate with minutes to spare and I’m in the window seat. By the motherfucking engine.
I hate being in the front, wing/engine and the three rows behind the wing/engine.
I’m weird because I like to sit in specific areas on the planes. Not in the back but close to it. There’s a specific row I try to get when I fly and I have the option of picking my seat. Always a window even though I never raise the blinds *lol* and never the direct back of the plane because it rocks too much for my liking.
Sadly I didn’t get to pick my seat and folks act like it kills them to move their damn seat *lol*
I did have an entire row to myself so you know I laid out. I’m so short my toes were in the aisle *lol*
Another thing: I try to stay up as long as possible the night before so I can sleep the entire flight. When I’m sleeping I’m not thinking of the dangers of flying…unless a little turbulence hits and I’m up with the quickness.
Turbulence is one of three things that will knock me out of the deep sleeps I fall into.
First is the smell of food followed by a little oral action *lol*
But not the actual act. *lol* As you know I’ve fallen asleep quite a few times on the “D”.
I woke up when we hit O’Hare. Like the runway literally. Scared the hell out of me. Had to swallow the scream in my throat.
This caused a coughing spell.
Which of course watered my eyes.
So I got off the plane looking like death.
Home Sweet Home my ass.
Left to fend for myself when I made it to Chicago I was straight CTA-ing it.
Ah DC’s Metro has spoiled me. I had forgotten about how bone jarring the El train is. Shit get off the train feeling like you ran 10 miles without stopping. Hard ass seats and fucked up tracks will ache your bones.
But for real I had a great time in Chicago. I didn’t do much, just lounged in front of the house like a bum playing with the many children that have sprung up in the family. Went to the store, each time lugging a different child.
People asking me were they mine and shit.
Negro Please.
You would know if a kid was mine. They’d be with their daddy *lol*
One of my crazy exes popped by. Shit I didn’t run in the house quick enough. Too many fucking babies on the porch.
I debated knocking one or two down to get in the house but that would have been too mean.
We had some words.
He called me “fat”. Talking about “T you weren’t that thick when you was with me”
Me? Eh I laughed.
And told him that because he never hit it like JBN. He hit all those spot to “thicken” me out while him? Tuh I stayed on anorexic mode while with him.
As expected he got mad and left.
He’s one of the easier ones. We trade smart remarks and he go about his business.
The others?
We’re squaring off in the streets.
Dramatic bastards. *lol*
I was a little disappointed though. No drama or usual family antics. Just a chill visit.
I was a little scared yall. I mean we played Bones and no one flipped over the table. No drunken rants. No Baby Daddy/Mama drama.
Nothing.
I didn’t even let people know I was in town until I was leaving. I wasn’t trying to go from the club to O’Hare tipsy and half dressed.
Anymore that is *lol*
Went through some of the same mess at O’Hare as I did at DCA only I did get through the line quicker. I got there super early, and I had a little bit more than an hour to spare when I made it to my gate.
Of course I fell asleep and almost missed my flight. The guy had to damn near shake my ass up in order to ask was I apart of the flight leaving.
You know I was fighting him like I was a kid and he was my mama trying to wake me up for school *lol*
This time I was in the aisle BUT in my section with some guy who was slobbing all on the window. I was going to wake him up to address his situation but I said “fuck it” and went to sleep.
Landed with no problems at DCA. Caught the Metro home and took my ass back to sleep.
Damn kids will drain the shit out of you. I’m not used to 3 am rude awakenings unless it’s the good kind *wink*
I was sad to leave, it was such a short visit but I’ll be back.
Back to the land of the working tomorrow.
I hate flying with a passion.
Not because I have a fear that I will end up on the plane where someone, tired of performing routine maintenance checks because it was one of those “I Quit This Bitch” workdays, will shirk on their duties and I end up on the fucked up aircraft that will crash shortly after takeoff.
Or the one that gets in the air and the engines decide to fail. Or the wing fall off or something.
I know pretty morbid and fucked up thoughts but that’s all that I think of when flying. I’m so paranoid that any noise, I mean noise have me pressing the call button and I’m demanding that the flight attendant investigate the noise while I eye the exit row doors and debate that if I claw my way off the plane and use a couple of tied together blankets as a parachute will I make it to the ground with just a few broken bones.
I’m never scared of terrorists, however, because I’ll beat a motherfucker’s ass if he or she thinks I’m going to let you make it to the pilot door and crash the plane into some building.
I’m from the Chi bitch! Don’t play with me. Shit I can work a box cutter too with the best of them.
You see my braiding the hair to the back and smearing carmex on the face *can’t bring gels on the plane now so hell gotta make due* just know it’s time to fight on that bitch.
That or you’ll see me clawing my way to the exit row.
I am not a hero *lol*
But I came to this conclusion upon yet another trip to Chicago and waiting in an obnoxiously long line to get my boarding pass.
I remember the days when I would go to the kiosk because I rarely checked luggage and I’ll be on my merry way.
Now? Shit I pack a bottle of Baby Lotion and my black ass has to brave the line with everyone else. I don’t do that travel size bullshit. These thighs need a full bottle of lotion. And I am not in the business of buying stuff at my destination that I already have at home.
Toothpaste is too expensive to have two full size tubes just chilling at the crib. Then it dries out and looks all crusty and stuff. Who wants to use crusty toothpaste?
Damn United Airlines would open the lines at 5 am….when I have a 6 am flight.
And I would be #60 in the long line of impatient travelers, who like me, was very pissed that we were standing in line for close to an hour waiting for United Airlines lines to open.
I mean, damn you try to follow the “2 Hours Before Departure” procedures *in my case usually an hour or less since I live less than five minutes from DCA* and look what happens.
And then you have the idiots who hog up all the kiosk because they’re afraid the machine is going to charge their credit card and in that case they want to use a different credit card but oh that means they have to dig through their luggage to find that credit card and wouldn’t you know it that bag is overweight so I’m going to spend 20 minutes shifting things around from suitcase to suitcase to avoid paying that “overweight luggage” fee and oh no the fucking stroller won’t fold up for the fucking 8 year old it belongs to and guess what?
NO ONE SPEAKS ONE FUCKING WORD OF ENGLISH!!!!
*deep breathe*
I hate flying.
So after dying six or seven times and being reincarnated to stand in the same line *my personal hell I guess* I finally get to the machine and then drag my bag, after a fucking inquisition on whether or not it’s my bag because yeah I make it a habit of traveling with other people’s shit to a new city, to the security area where I then wait to make sure my bag go through the machine and they don’t have a reason to rip my shit open like when I went to Orlando and they found my “suspicious” flat irons in the bag.
Like I’m going to use a $150 Chi Flat Iron as a bomb.
Nigga is you nuts?!
Of course the run of the mill security check where budget cuts must means I can’t get paper slippers for my bare feet anymore like I want my feet on the nasty ass linoleum.
And of course when you have less than 10 minutes to make it to your gate you have that one person who must have been DEAF as they’ve ignored the constant annoying voice droning on about prohibited items, like that BIG ASS bottle of shampoo is not a liquid.
And then want to debate over why the shampoo should not be tossed away.
Medical reason my ass. Herbal Essence is not medicinal shampoo. And if it was can I know what flight you’re on so I can make sure I’m not next to your lice-ridden ass. I don’t want them fuckers popping up in my damn head!
I already get sick on every single flight, that’s all my ass need is some lice in my relaxed hair. My hair is already super thick I don’t need creatures crawling around in my hair I’m walking around smelling like Vicks and Septum Blue. No thanks.
So finally I get through with no problems. I’ve learned to stop wearing under wire bras when I travel because I’m tired of explaining while my breasts are going off.
In fact I’m tired of being felt up at the airport period. If I was a national security threat I would hope I wouldn’t be so stupid as to strap on the bomb before I made it through security.
Although when I had nipple rings it was another story.
Face all red while I have to whisper why my titties are going off and it’s clear I don’t have on a bra.
And then that one loud guard who wanna put your shit on blast super loud and now people are looking at you like you’re a freak. And maybe that guy who was leering at me in line and I was anxious to get away from him NOW have a reason to go in for the kill and bother me all the way to my gate and lawd don’t let us be on the same flight. I damn near have to get ignant and get tossed off the plane in order to get rid of Creepy McCreepy who’s all like “Sooo…when Ima see these nipples rings? I bet they look as tasty as you…”
*shudder*
Sorry. Bad experience *lol*
I finally make it to my gate with minutes to spare and I’m in the window seat. By the motherfucking engine.
I hate being in the front, wing/engine and the three rows behind the wing/engine.
I’m weird because I like to sit in specific areas on the planes. Not in the back but close to it. There’s a specific row I try to get when I fly and I have the option of picking my seat. Always a window even though I never raise the blinds *lol* and never the direct back of the plane because it rocks too much for my liking.
Sadly I didn’t get to pick my seat and folks act like it kills them to move their damn seat *lol*
I did have an entire row to myself so you know I laid out. I’m so short my toes were in the aisle *lol*
Another thing: I try to stay up as long as possible the night before so I can sleep the entire flight. When I’m sleeping I’m not thinking of the dangers of flying…unless a little turbulence hits and I’m up with the quickness.
Turbulence is one of three things that will knock me out of the deep sleeps I fall into.
First is the smell of food followed by a little oral action *lol*
But not the actual act. *lol* As you know I’ve fallen asleep quite a few times on the “D”.
I woke up when we hit O’Hare. Like the runway literally. Scared the hell out of me. Had to swallow the scream in my throat.
This caused a coughing spell.
Which of course watered my eyes.
So I got off the plane looking like death.
Home Sweet Home my ass.
Left to fend for myself when I made it to Chicago I was straight CTA-ing it.
Ah DC’s Metro has spoiled me. I had forgotten about how bone jarring the El train is. Shit get off the train feeling like you ran 10 miles without stopping. Hard ass seats and fucked up tracks will ache your bones.
But for real I had a great time in Chicago. I didn’t do much, just lounged in front of the house like a bum playing with the many children that have sprung up in the family. Went to the store, each time lugging a different child.
People asking me were they mine and shit.
Negro Please.
You would know if a kid was mine. They’d be with their daddy *lol*
One of my crazy exes popped by. Shit I didn’t run in the house quick enough. Too many fucking babies on the porch.
I debated knocking one or two down to get in the house but that would have been too mean.
We had some words.
He called me “fat”. Talking about “T you weren’t that thick when you was with me”
Me? Eh I laughed.
And told him that because he never hit it like JBN. He hit all those spot to “thicken” me out while him? Tuh I stayed on anorexic mode while with him.
As expected he got mad and left.
He’s one of the easier ones. We trade smart remarks and he go about his business.
The others?
We’re squaring off in the streets.
Dramatic bastards. *lol*
I was a little disappointed though. No drama or usual family antics. Just a chill visit.
I was a little scared yall. I mean we played Bones and no one flipped over the table. No drunken rants. No Baby Daddy/Mama drama.
Nothing.
I didn’t even let people know I was in town until I was leaving. I wasn’t trying to go from the club to O’Hare tipsy and half dressed.
Anymore that is *lol*
Went through some of the same mess at O’Hare as I did at DCA only I did get through the line quicker. I got there super early, and I had a little bit more than an hour to spare when I made it to my gate.
Of course I fell asleep and almost missed my flight. The guy had to damn near shake my ass up in order to ask was I apart of the flight leaving.
You know I was fighting him like I was a kid and he was my mama trying to wake me up for school *lol*
This time I was in the aisle BUT in my section with some guy who was slobbing all on the window. I was going to wake him up to address his situation but I said “fuck it” and went to sleep.
Landed with no problems at DCA. Caught the Metro home and took my ass back to sleep.
Damn kids will drain the shit out of you. I’m not used to 3 am rude awakenings unless it’s the good kind *wink*
I was sad to leave, it was such a short visit but I’ll be back.
Back to the land of the working tomorrow.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Tagged...
Damn You Slump!!
Rules: 1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts. 2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves. 3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules. 4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names. 5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
8 facts:
1. I have the bad habit of plucking my hair out. But I get upset when I comb my hair and hair falls in the sink.
2. When I am stressed, I clean. You'll catch me up at 3 a.m. dusting and scrubbing the floor Mommy Dearest style.
3. I talk entirely too much. If you're unfortunate enought to let me dominate the conversation, God help you. I will talk your ear off.
4. There's a lot of things that I want to write about but I'm too embarrassed to post them on my blog.
5. I don't have a lot of insecurities but I do wish my breasts were bigger. If I could still stuff my bra and get away with it, I would.
6. The person you see/read about is really me. I am really this silly in person.
7. There once was a time when I was completely camera shy. I would actually cry when someone took my picture.
8. I stand in the mirror sometimes and envision myself pregnant. And then I shudder.
They are:
Angel
Honey
ThicFlair
Curls
T. Cas
Pro
Jess
Missy
Rules: 1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts. 2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves. 3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules. 4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names. 5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
8 facts:
1. I have the bad habit of plucking my hair out. But I get upset when I comb my hair and hair falls in the sink.
2. When I am stressed, I clean. You'll catch me up at 3 a.m. dusting and scrubbing the floor Mommy Dearest style.
3. I talk entirely too much. If you're unfortunate enought to let me dominate the conversation, God help you. I will talk your ear off.
4. There's a lot of things that I want to write about but I'm too embarrassed to post them on my blog.
5. I don't have a lot of insecurities but I do wish my breasts were bigger. If I could still stuff my bra and get away with it, I would.
6. The person you see/read about is really me. I am really this silly in person.
7. There once was a time when I was completely camera shy. I would actually cry when someone took my picture.
8. I stand in the mirror sometimes and envision myself pregnant. And then I shudder.
They are:
Angel
Honey
ThicFlair
Curls
T. Cas
Pro
Jess
Missy
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
I'd Starve If I Lived In Philly...
Since JBNs family is much tamer than mine, there are no funny tales about his family reunion. I was going in hoping for at least one flipped table but alas everyone was well behaved.
At least no one is spreading rumors that I pregnant like the last family reunion. And of course every one wanted us to “keep in touch” so they can receive an invite to the wedding.
The wedding that I haven’t even planned.
The wedding where we can’t decide on a date let alone colors.
Hell we’re still hashing out bridesmaids and groomsmen. Shit I’m running out of female friends. Since I’ve gotten engaged I’ve dropped three friends from my friends list on Face Book *lol*
I just can’t keep a friend with breasts *real breasts not Man Boobies* to save my life. I always have to cut the friendship string at some point. I’m pretty sure it’s my doing as far as the reason I can’t keep a female friend, shit I’m too hard on them.
I keep this up and I might have to make my gay best friend G tuck in his nuts and slide on a dress.
If he wasn’t a “homo-thug” that is.
Riiight. I laugh at that shit every times he brings up that oxymoron.
Sometimes I wish he could be the “effeminate” gay so he can do my hair, help me pick out an outfit, teach me a dance step…something. I mean can I have a gay friend with a sashay please?
Not a Timberland rocking, LRG wearing, scowl on his face, more swagger than a lil’ bit man…who just so happens to love the “D”.
And who pulls fine ass men on the regular. I mean is it too much to ask for one of them to point me toward their equally fine heterosexual brother? Is that too much to ask?
JBN might start acting up the closer we get to the wedding date and I may need a rebound boyfriend. *lol*
I tried to put some enthusiasm in my voice when discussing my upcoming nuptials to his family but I can tell they sniffed right through the bullshit.
Quite frankly, while I love this man and want to spend the rest of my life with his and adopt some wonderful babies *lol*, I’m not keen on planning this wedding.
I am not ready to freak the fuck out over every single detail. I watch the brides who come into the hotel and these broads are in tears over a damn lost gift bag. Veins popping out their necks because someone switched place cards at the table. Not to mention stressing over the flower arrangement.
And I know this will be me.
I know I’m going to be the one screaming at the top of my lungs at the bridal shop because someone is stuck in traffic.
I can hear me now:
“WELL BITCH YOU SHOULD’VE LEFT AN HOUR AGO! I DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR TRUCK FLIPPING OVER AND YOUR LEGS ARE BROKEN. YOU BETTER HOBBLE THE FUCK TO THIS SHOP I KNOW THAT MUCH!”
*CLICK*
I like order and I like things to go according to plan. I’ll be watching the weather like a hawk for weeks just to make sure it doesn’t rain on my day. And I will make a complete back up plan just in case it does rain, complete with alternate routes to get to the church and reception.
I’m seriously considering hiring a wedding planner but at the same time I know I wouldn’t like anything he/she did. I would go behind them and check their work which would probably bug the shit out of them. And knowing that I will go behind that person, do I really want to shell out $$ for a job that technically I am still doing?
And sad to say I can’t trust my family to do anything major. Let me ask my mother to order the flowers or reserve a space for the reception. I’ll hear “I’ll do it” and either the job is half ass done or I’ll hear, “Oh…I forgot. Sorry.”
And of course everyone wanted to tell me their own “wedding tales”. Oh how they spent $30,000 on the entire wedding *”aren’t you divorced though?” cricket chirp*, how many people showed up, the colors, the people, oh it was in the neighborhood’s “society” pages and all this other shit that I could care less about.
I don’t want a huge wedding. I just want something tasteful. Hell we can grab a few friends and hit Vegas as far as I’m concerned. Go out, get drunk, get married and go right back to the club and finish partying.
Although…could you imagine the pictures *lol*
But I’ll get it together one of these days.
First thing first…My ass need to go on a diet or it’s girdle city for the big day.
Oh yeah, we found a Philly Cheese Steak place not too far from the park and decided to buy one.
That was the nastiest shit I’ve ever eaten in my life.
I spit that shit out right there in the restaurant. What the fuck is on yall bird? *lol*
The parts of Philly that we saw and toured were nice. No “State Property” visits and shit. Philly is a nice town. I didn’t get out to Kings of Prussia mall, I was very upset at that, but Philly was decent. It was hot as fuck out and since I am deathly afraid of pigeons I almost got hit by a tour bus fleeing the flying rats, but it was pretty cool.
And…They have a Walgreen in Philly. I was walking around the store in amazement like it was a Tiffany’s or something.
*lol* Don’t laugh but I miss Walgreens. They have little to none in this area and shit I’m tired of fucking CVS and Rite-Aid!
I’ll have to post up the pics when my lazy ass has a chance.
Now that cheese steak bullshit Philly yall can have that shit. And don’t try to blame the place. It looked equally nasty every place we went.
Now I had a hoagie. That was fye. But *shudder* I still got a bad taste in my mouth from that sandwich.
I’ll just take an Italian Beef dipped and covered in mild sauce thank you very much.
Next week I’m going home to Chicago.
Now that will be interesting.
At least no one is spreading rumors that I pregnant like the last family reunion. And of course every one wanted us to “keep in touch” so they can receive an invite to the wedding.
The wedding that I haven’t even planned.
The wedding where we can’t decide on a date let alone colors.
Hell we’re still hashing out bridesmaids and groomsmen. Shit I’m running out of female friends. Since I’ve gotten engaged I’ve dropped three friends from my friends list on Face Book *lol*
I just can’t keep a friend with breasts *real breasts not Man Boobies* to save my life. I always have to cut the friendship string at some point. I’m pretty sure it’s my doing as far as the reason I can’t keep a female friend, shit I’m too hard on them.
I keep this up and I might have to make my gay best friend G tuck in his nuts and slide on a dress.
If he wasn’t a “homo-thug” that is.
Riiight. I laugh at that shit every times he brings up that oxymoron.
Sometimes I wish he could be the “effeminate” gay so he can do my hair, help me pick out an outfit, teach me a dance step…something. I mean can I have a gay friend with a sashay please?
Not a Timberland rocking, LRG wearing, scowl on his face, more swagger than a lil’ bit man…who just so happens to love the “D”.
And who pulls fine ass men on the regular. I mean is it too much to ask for one of them to point me toward their equally fine heterosexual brother? Is that too much to ask?
JBN might start acting up the closer we get to the wedding date and I may need a rebound boyfriend. *lol*
I tried to put some enthusiasm in my voice when discussing my upcoming nuptials to his family but I can tell they sniffed right through the bullshit.
Quite frankly, while I love this man and want to spend the rest of my life with his and adopt some wonderful babies *lol*, I’m not keen on planning this wedding.
I am not ready to freak the fuck out over every single detail. I watch the brides who come into the hotel and these broads are in tears over a damn lost gift bag. Veins popping out their necks because someone switched place cards at the table. Not to mention stressing over the flower arrangement.
And I know this will be me.
I know I’m going to be the one screaming at the top of my lungs at the bridal shop because someone is stuck in traffic.
I can hear me now:
“WELL BITCH YOU SHOULD’VE LEFT AN HOUR AGO! I DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR TRUCK FLIPPING OVER AND YOUR LEGS ARE BROKEN. YOU BETTER HOBBLE THE FUCK TO THIS SHOP I KNOW THAT MUCH!”
*CLICK*
I like order and I like things to go according to plan. I’ll be watching the weather like a hawk for weeks just to make sure it doesn’t rain on my day. And I will make a complete back up plan just in case it does rain, complete with alternate routes to get to the church and reception.
I’m seriously considering hiring a wedding planner but at the same time I know I wouldn’t like anything he/she did. I would go behind them and check their work which would probably bug the shit out of them. And knowing that I will go behind that person, do I really want to shell out $$ for a job that technically I am still doing?
And sad to say I can’t trust my family to do anything major. Let me ask my mother to order the flowers or reserve a space for the reception. I’ll hear “I’ll do it” and either the job is half ass done or I’ll hear, “Oh…I forgot. Sorry.”
And of course everyone wanted to tell me their own “wedding tales”. Oh how they spent $30,000 on the entire wedding *”aren’t you divorced though?” cricket chirp*, how many people showed up, the colors, the people, oh it was in the neighborhood’s “society” pages and all this other shit that I could care less about.
I don’t want a huge wedding. I just want something tasteful. Hell we can grab a few friends and hit Vegas as far as I’m concerned. Go out, get drunk, get married and go right back to the club and finish partying.
Although…could you imagine the pictures *lol*
But I’ll get it together one of these days.
First thing first…My ass need to go on a diet or it’s girdle city for the big day.
Oh yeah, we found a Philly Cheese Steak place not too far from the park and decided to buy one.
That was the nastiest shit I’ve ever eaten in my life.
I spit that shit out right there in the restaurant. What the fuck is on yall bird? *lol*
The parts of Philly that we saw and toured were nice. No “State Property” visits and shit. Philly is a nice town. I didn’t get out to Kings of Prussia mall, I was very upset at that, but Philly was decent. It was hot as fuck out and since I am deathly afraid of pigeons I almost got hit by a tour bus fleeing the flying rats, but it was pretty cool.
And…They have a Walgreen in Philly. I was walking around the store in amazement like it was a Tiffany’s or something.
*lol* Don’t laugh but I miss Walgreens. They have little to none in this area and shit I’m tired of fucking CVS and Rite-Aid!
I’ll have to post up the pics when my lazy ass has a chance.
Now that cheese steak bullshit Philly yall can have that shit. And don’t try to blame the place. It looked equally nasty every place we went.
Now I had a hoagie. That was fye. But *shudder* I still got a bad taste in my mouth from that sandwich.
I’ll just take an Italian Beef dipped and covered in mild sauce thank you very much.
Next week I’m going home to Chicago.
Now that will be interesting.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Summer Is Almost Over....
What’s the big deal about the 4th of July anyway?
I mean people get excited and plan trips to the city and for what? A 5-10 minute display of fireworks? Sure it’s a nice display but…they’re fireworks!
I refuse to get excited about a day that personally I can care less about. I mean it’s not like my people were celebrating our independence. More likely, my people were cleaning up the mess from good ol’ Massa party…I mean if they weren’t fighting in a war that would of course remind that that while they’re helping another’s man war, they would not be free in the least.
Yeah a little bitterness for the 4th. So sue me.
Besides I’m not really into fireworks. I broke my ankle when I was a kid thanks to fireworks, leaving me ass-ed out for the summer, so I’ve always kept my distance from them.
Instead I went to see Transformers and despite its flaws, I enjoyed the movie.
I’m sure the true 80s babies will find a way to tear down every single scene from the movie but considering I haven’t watched Transformers since I was like, what 7, and I don’t collect action figures, trading cards, and other collectibles that true nerds dicks get hard over, it was decent.
Not Oscar-worthy. But my $10, ok JBNs $10, were well spent. Some parts of the movie I didn’t like but eh, over all it was highly entertaining.
Besides I like Shia LaBeouf. I have always thought he was a little cutie. So sue me, I liked the Even Stevens series.
But you know I am waiting for Harry Potter.
This weekend we are driving up to Philly for JBNs family reunion. His family is a lot more…tamer than mine.
You know they get their BBQ catered. No face twisting and “Who made the Potato Salad…Mmmm I don’t fuck with her cooking like that” comments. Everyone seems genuinely happy to see one another. No card tables being flipped over due to losing spades. No fist fights over a game of Bones. Drunken relatives actually go to sleep in the shade instead of picking arguments or doing the drunken “Good Foot” dance. No family secrets put on blast.
You know, like my family reunions usually turn out. *lol*
I told him I don’t care what we do but we are not going to take a tour of the Philly projects. I do not want the “Ghetto Tours”.
Damn that State Property, Paid In Full bullshit, I am not trying to see where Beenie Siegel supposedly beat the block.
Leave me in the downtown/suburban areas please.
I am not one of those tourists who want to see the “real” parts of a city. Fuck that. Leave me in the comforts of my hotel and the surrounding locations. I am not trying to get lost in certain parts of the city.
I mean I like DC but you will never catch me in SE after dark.
Hell you won’t catch me there during the day.
Gas is too expensive and I’ll be damned if I get car jacked after filling up the tank.
The car jacker is going to have to drop me off at the Metro station or something. It’s too damn hot to be standing at the bus stop.
Last summer I had so much fun. This summer? Eh so far it’s been ok. I just realized I was sick for damn near ½ of the summer though. That sucks.
Hopefully in Philly I’ll have a chance to buy a real Philly cheese steak. Just to see what the hype is all about.
Have a great weekend everyone.
I mean people get excited and plan trips to the city and for what? A 5-10 minute display of fireworks? Sure it’s a nice display but…they’re fireworks!
I refuse to get excited about a day that personally I can care less about. I mean it’s not like my people were celebrating our independence. More likely, my people were cleaning up the mess from good ol’ Massa party…I mean if they weren’t fighting in a war that would of course remind that that while they’re helping another’s man war, they would not be free in the least.
Yeah a little bitterness for the 4th. So sue me.
Besides I’m not really into fireworks. I broke my ankle when I was a kid thanks to fireworks, leaving me ass-ed out for the summer, so I’ve always kept my distance from them.
Instead I went to see Transformers and despite its flaws, I enjoyed the movie.
I’m sure the true 80s babies will find a way to tear down every single scene from the movie but considering I haven’t watched Transformers since I was like, what 7, and I don’t collect action figures, trading cards, and other collectibles that true nerds dicks get hard over, it was decent.
Not Oscar-worthy. But my $10, ok JBNs $10, were well spent. Some parts of the movie I didn’t like but eh, over all it was highly entertaining.
Besides I like Shia LaBeouf. I have always thought he was a little cutie. So sue me, I liked the Even Stevens series.
But you know I am waiting for Harry Potter.
This weekend we are driving up to Philly for JBNs family reunion. His family is a lot more…tamer than mine.
You know they get their BBQ catered. No face twisting and “Who made the Potato Salad…Mmmm I don’t fuck with her cooking like that” comments. Everyone seems genuinely happy to see one another. No card tables being flipped over due to losing spades. No fist fights over a game of Bones. Drunken relatives actually go to sleep in the shade instead of picking arguments or doing the drunken “Good Foot” dance. No family secrets put on blast.
You know, like my family reunions usually turn out. *lol*
I told him I don’t care what we do but we are not going to take a tour of the Philly projects. I do not want the “Ghetto Tours”.
Damn that State Property, Paid In Full bullshit, I am not trying to see where Beenie Siegel supposedly beat the block.
Leave me in the downtown/suburban areas please.
I am not one of those tourists who want to see the “real” parts of a city. Fuck that. Leave me in the comforts of my hotel and the surrounding locations. I am not trying to get lost in certain parts of the city.
I mean I like DC but you will never catch me in SE after dark.
Hell you won’t catch me there during the day.
Gas is too expensive and I’ll be damned if I get car jacked after filling up the tank.
The car jacker is going to have to drop me off at the Metro station or something. It’s too damn hot to be standing at the bus stop.
Last summer I had so much fun. This summer? Eh so far it’s been ok. I just realized I was sick for damn near ½ of the summer though. That sucks.
Hopefully in Philly I’ll have a chance to buy a real Philly cheese steak. Just to see what the hype is all about.
Have a great weekend everyone.
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Wipe Me Down
That song “Wipe Me Down” by Lil Boosie has got to be the DUMBEST song I’ve heard…this month.
Why did I think they were saying “Bite Me Now” though?
Blame my bad hearing and the fact that I am known to fuck up some lyrics in a heartbeat.
Although I shudder to think of any one nasty enough to put a set of lips on any parts of his body.
He needs to be wiped down all right…with some hot bleach and ammonia.
I mean this “looking dirty” trend is not hot. I’ll take the old fashioned “looking and smelling clean” any day.
No so-called “hustlers” or “gangsters” around my way has ever looked dusty as hell in the pursuit of making that “chop”. Standing on the corner all day meant crisp clothes and fresh kicks to profile in. It meant going in the house to take a shower when that Chi-Town humidity got too much for them in the summer. It also meant lacing the local hoodrat with the finest Baby Phat, Avirex and Davoucci leathers that you can find at Man Alive or The Lark.
I mean it was so not sexy to have your so-called significant other out there looking busted and you're supposed to be a big time hustler.
I mean sure a few were the variety “Pig Pen” assortment but they were nasty before they got into “The Game”. And really, I don’t expect a lot of chicks to come flocking to a bruh who has a big ass MILD sauce stain on the front of his once white but now cream tee.
I mean really, is it necessary to wear that big of a shirt out in public? Knowing damn well you're a smedium rocking a XXXL shirt.
And I'm sorry, white Hanes tees were strictly undershirts in my household. My mama wished you would walk out the house with your "under garments" showing. That was an automatic ear yank and a march right back into the house.
Boy how times have changed. Now what's a little bra strap, panty and thong display among strangers *yours truly in the guilty party as well*
Although...If your panties and/or boxers are on a tad bit dare I say it dingy and holey and the elastic is just through, I'm going to need a prompt investment in new underwear stat!
The elastic in a thong should not be showcased for the world to see. I'm just saying.
And ladies...if the bra is white...can the bra strap match the bra please?
But I will admit the dirtiest rappers have the catchest songs *side eyeing Lil’ Wayne*
When my rap album comes out, I'm going to have a dance called the "Tenacious Bop". I don't know what it will be yet but man that's going to be hot for the streets.
But…*hangs head* I do the lil “Wipe Me Down”, “Walk It Out” and any other lil’ dance number that comes out. Hell “Walk It Out” is an excellent work-out dance. You know shaping up your thighs and stomach. I don't know what I'm walking it out to just yet but I'm getting there.
But these dances are done in the privacy of my own home of course.
In the words of FH: I don’t do them nigga dances out in the streets.
I am too classy for that.
*lol*
Why did I think they were saying “Bite Me Now” though?
Blame my bad hearing and the fact that I am known to fuck up some lyrics in a heartbeat.
Although I shudder to think of any one nasty enough to put a set of lips on any parts of his body.
He needs to be wiped down all right…with some hot bleach and ammonia.
I mean this “looking dirty” trend is not hot. I’ll take the old fashioned “looking and smelling clean” any day.
No so-called “hustlers” or “gangsters” around my way has ever looked dusty as hell in the pursuit of making that “chop”. Standing on the corner all day meant crisp clothes and fresh kicks to profile in. It meant going in the house to take a shower when that Chi-Town humidity got too much for them in the summer. It also meant lacing the local hoodrat with the finest Baby Phat, Avirex and Davoucci leathers that you can find at Man Alive or The Lark.
I mean it was so not sexy to have your so-called significant other out there looking busted and you're supposed to be a big time hustler.
I mean sure a few were the variety “Pig Pen” assortment but they were nasty before they got into “The Game”. And really, I don’t expect a lot of chicks to come flocking to a bruh who has a big ass MILD sauce stain on the front of his once white but now cream tee.
I mean really, is it necessary to wear that big of a shirt out in public? Knowing damn well you're a smedium rocking a XXXL shirt.
And I'm sorry, white Hanes tees were strictly undershirts in my household. My mama wished you would walk out the house with your "under garments" showing. That was an automatic ear yank and a march right back into the house.
Boy how times have changed. Now what's a little bra strap, panty and thong display among strangers *yours truly in the guilty party as well*
Although...If your panties and/or boxers are on a tad bit dare I say it dingy and holey and the elastic is just through, I'm going to need a prompt investment in new underwear stat!
The elastic in a thong should not be showcased for the world to see. I'm just saying.
And ladies...if the bra is white...can the bra strap match the bra please?
But I will admit the dirtiest rappers have the catchest songs *side eyeing Lil’ Wayne*
When my rap album comes out, I'm going to have a dance called the "Tenacious Bop". I don't know what it will be yet but man that's going to be hot for the streets.
But…*hangs head* I do the lil “Wipe Me Down”, “Walk It Out” and any other lil’ dance number that comes out. Hell “Walk It Out” is an excellent work-out dance. You know shaping up your thighs and stomach. I don't know what I'm walking it out to just yet but I'm getting there.
But these dances are done in the privacy of my own home of course.
In the words of FH: I don’t do them nigga dances out in the streets.
I am too classy for that.
*lol*
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
I'm Contributing $5 To The BET Budget....
So yesterday due to lack of anything good on TV, I sat down and *gasped* watched BET.
Yes…I watched the BET Awards. And since I’m a hater, I hated on the entire show *lol* Except a few parts, which I liked. The rest…Damn shame there wasn’t anything better on TV. I mean really, could I have gotten a few reruns or something?
Ok I missed, like the first 20 minutes of the show and the entire red carpet thing so I didn’t see the Jennifers sing. I’m sure it was a hot mess all around.
Don’t get me wrong, I like Jennifer Hudson and NOT because she’s repping the Chi. She’s a gorgeous woman, fantastic voice but umm yeah…Ima need her to sit down somewhere. I haven’t even seen DreamGirls and I’m tired of that song.
She did, however, have a cute dress on.
But Best New Artist….?
And NO Album? I’m glad she said that though.
I don’t care what folks say, I kind of like Mo’Nique. Sure that weave was a lil’ tired and I’m really going to need her stylist to NOT stuff her in dresses that make it pretty obvious that her stomach sticks out more than her breasts cuz Sista aint got no form of so-called “Big Girl” titties and she was a lil dry on stage. But she rocked quite a few outfits. Namely the red dress and the white pantsuit at the end. I want that damn red dress. And the “Do Me” heels? Fed Ex them bad boys to me right now!
T.I. *sigh* I just want to feed him a chicken sandwich. Maybe two. He can still get it, ya know. Just no kissing due to the scar around his mouth. And um yeah those STD/HIV tests are still mandatory.
Ne-Yo. Still mad cat-fish looking.
Fabolous…He’s looking a little off to me lately. I can’t put my fingers on it but he’s looking quite…special nowadays.
I like Beyonce. Yeah I said it!
I liked her performance. Complete with the gold metal bra and sequined leggings. Ok well maybe not the outfit *lol* but I liked her performance. I thought it was cute. It’s nice to see Michelle and Solange getting work.
However I am not feeling the dance number for that song. I don’t really like the video, although I want a weave ponytail so I can swing it around like B at the club *and probably get fucked up for my hair falling into someone’s drank* some parts of the dance is nice but others…eh.
Although I think she dulled down her performance so Kelly could shine because you know people will compare it to hers but Kelly's was ok. Singing could have been better but um yeah Kelly can UPS me her legs and Eve…Ima need those boots STAT…thank you. The whole concept was cute *at least to me* and Beyonce looked really happy for Kelly.
Although Solange was NOT a member of Destiny's Child so they could have left her ass off the split screen.
P. Diddy, Keyshia Cole and Lil Kim did give me my first good laugh of the night. Ummm…why? That’s all I have to say. Kim must have been getting my emails about her rocking a bra at ALL times though. They weren’t dragging to the floor as in previous pictures. She has gotten a lil’ thick too. One sandwich away is all I’m saying though.
Keyshia has a nice voice but I don't really like how she seems to howl whenever she gets on a stage. And two stiff ass people need not to coordinate a dance. We all know Diddy can't dance for shit *but he can spin in a circle, coat billowing behind him like the best of them* but it was painfully obvious neither one can hold a beat to save their careers.
Her pants were hot. The wife beater? Eh not so much.
I was severly disappointed by Robin Thicke's performance. I know he can better than that shit. And I hate that damn song. That is the weakest song off his album, he should have "debuted" a new song or something. But he can still get it three times though, bad singing and all.
I mean it's not like he was the worst of the night.
And please BET…can we get some more rehearsals for reading off the tele-promoter please? You know most of them can barely write their names let along read big words. I have stage fright and I can do better than most of the presenters. Folks up there sounding dry, missing cues, bad jokes, and looking awkward as shit.
Come to think of it:
1. Chris...Just stop. Let’s let the 80s die ok?
2. Lauren London…HOT. I think she is so cute.
3. Reggie Bush…He can still get it but Ima need him to work on his pronunciation.
4. Ashanti…I see she went to the same dress maker as her little sister.
5. Lil Wayne…I know he was high on something. He has a cute lil girl though. I was feeling the little kids’ outfits. Granted my kids wouldn’t walk out the door in that shit but it was cute on her. I still want to Lysol him down though.
6. Mmmm Henry Simmons. That is all. Damn the gay rumor, he is sexy as hell!
7. Patti. Lawd knows I loves me some Patti but that dress….
8. Ya know if you struggle to read kind words about your moms off a tele-prompter…maybe you should improvise. Just a thought.
9. And aside from one or two, those videos that were shown before the nominees were not hot!
10. Was it me or were there more performances than actual awards?
And while I admit that I like T-Pain, he will my comedic muse for quite some time, the “Prep” look only works, if well, you washed your ass before the show.
Oh yeah and you don’t look like a spider monkey with glasses.
BUT I love the song and I liked the quasi-performance.
Who were the other two dudes though? Someone help me out.
I missed 50’s performance. Hey I had to get something to eat. I heard there were technical difficulties. Tony Yayo…I swear that man is gay. He’s a little too close to 50 if you get what I mean. And he should NEVER go without facial hair. I know it makes some men very clean cut but when you’re already dirty…come on now!
I enjoyed Diane Ross’s tribute. She is looking pretty good for 63. Erykah rocked it though!
Although…Stevie’s stylish must have a hellva sense of humor because that jacket was NOT hot.
Confession: I always wanted Diane’s hair. My hair is as thick as hers but no way is it that full. I always wanted her wild hair. My mother saw otherwise.
I did not, however, like the Gerald Levert tribute. I mean could I have gotten a…Gerald Levert song?!
Now they did sing extremely well *I was side eyeing Gladys wig though* but it was too…gospel-ly for me.
Don’t get me wrong, I love gospel music but umm…do Black people always have to bust out the gospel, complete with long drawn out singing, for every BET event? I get it: Black folks love the church! But damn…can a tribute consist of a song the person being honored actually sang?
*still side eyeing Patti’s dress*
James Brown tribute…eh. It was ok I guess. Public Enemy is a little too old though to be hopping around the stage. Chuck D was looking a little out of breathe.
Ciara…well at least it is confirmed sista girl is a dancer and NOT a singer. I’m bias though, I love the song and you know my fake Fatima ass know the dance steps. Except the one when she leans all the way back…um yeah I tried that once. Let’s just say I had to soak in Epsom Salt when JBN scraped me off of the floor.
Overall…I can see why I stick to the MTV awards. At least their budget is better.
Yes…I watched the BET Awards. And since I’m a hater, I hated on the entire show *lol* Except a few parts, which I liked. The rest…Damn shame there wasn’t anything better on TV. I mean really, could I have gotten a few reruns or something?
Ok I missed, like the first 20 minutes of the show and the entire red carpet thing so I didn’t see the Jennifers sing. I’m sure it was a hot mess all around.
Don’t get me wrong, I like Jennifer Hudson and NOT because she’s repping the Chi. She’s a gorgeous woman, fantastic voice but umm yeah…Ima need her to sit down somewhere. I haven’t even seen DreamGirls and I’m tired of that song.
She did, however, have a cute dress on.
But Best New Artist….?
And NO Album? I’m glad she said that though.
I don’t care what folks say, I kind of like Mo’Nique. Sure that weave was a lil’ tired and I’m really going to need her stylist to NOT stuff her in dresses that make it pretty obvious that her stomach sticks out more than her breasts cuz Sista aint got no form of so-called “Big Girl” titties and she was a lil dry on stage. But she rocked quite a few outfits. Namely the red dress and the white pantsuit at the end. I want that damn red dress. And the “Do Me” heels? Fed Ex them bad boys to me right now!
T.I. *sigh* I just want to feed him a chicken sandwich. Maybe two. He can still get it, ya know. Just no kissing due to the scar around his mouth. And um yeah those STD/HIV tests are still mandatory.
Ne-Yo. Still mad cat-fish looking.
Fabolous…He’s looking a little off to me lately. I can’t put my fingers on it but he’s looking quite…special nowadays.
I like Beyonce. Yeah I said it!
I liked her performance. Complete with the gold metal bra and sequined leggings. Ok well maybe not the outfit *lol* but I liked her performance. I thought it was cute. It’s nice to see Michelle and Solange getting work.
However I am not feeling the dance number for that song. I don’t really like the video, although I want a weave ponytail so I can swing it around like B at the club *and probably get fucked up for my hair falling into someone’s drank* some parts of the dance is nice but others…eh.
Although I think she dulled down her performance so Kelly could shine because you know people will compare it to hers but Kelly's was ok. Singing could have been better but um yeah Kelly can UPS me her legs and Eve…Ima need those boots STAT…thank you. The whole concept was cute *at least to me* and Beyonce looked really happy for Kelly.
Although Solange was NOT a member of Destiny's Child so they could have left her ass off the split screen.
P. Diddy, Keyshia Cole and Lil Kim did give me my first good laugh of the night. Ummm…why? That’s all I have to say. Kim must have been getting my emails about her rocking a bra at ALL times though. They weren’t dragging to the floor as in previous pictures. She has gotten a lil’ thick too. One sandwich away is all I’m saying though.
Keyshia has a nice voice but I don't really like how she seems to howl whenever she gets on a stage. And two stiff ass people need not to coordinate a dance. We all know Diddy can't dance for shit *but he can spin in a circle, coat billowing behind him like the best of them* but it was painfully obvious neither one can hold a beat to save their careers.
Her pants were hot. The wife beater? Eh not so much.
I was severly disappointed by Robin Thicke's performance. I know he can better than that shit. And I hate that damn song. That is the weakest song off his album, he should have "debuted" a new song or something. But he can still get it three times though, bad singing and all.
I mean it's not like he was the worst of the night.
And please BET…can we get some more rehearsals for reading off the tele-promoter please? You know most of them can barely write their names let along read big words. I have stage fright and I can do better than most of the presenters. Folks up there sounding dry, missing cues, bad jokes, and looking awkward as shit.
Come to think of it:
1. Chris...Just stop. Let’s let the 80s die ok?
2. Lauren London…HOT. I think she is so cute.
3. Reggie Bush…He can still get it but Ima need him to work on his pronunciation.
4. Ashanti…I see she went to the same dress maker as her little sister.
5. Lil Wayne…I know he was high on something. He has a cute lil girl though. I was feeling the little kids’ outfits. Granted my kids wouldn’t walk out the door in that shit but it was cute on her. I still want to Lysol him down though.
6. Mmmm Henry Simmons. That is all. Damn the gay rumor, he is sexy as hell!
7. Patti. Lawd knows I loves me some Patti but that dress….
8. Ya know if you struggle to read kind words about your moms off a tele-prompter…maybe you should improvise. Just a thought.
9. And aside from one or two, those videos that were shown before the nominees were not hot!
10. Was it me or were there more performances than actual awards?
And while I admit that I like T-Pain, he will my comedic muse for quite some time, the “Prep” look only works, if well, you washed your ass before the show.
Oh yeah and you don’t look like a spider monkey with glasses.
BUT I love the song and I liked the quasi-performance.
Who were the other two dudes though? Someone help me out.
I missed 50’s performance. Hey I had to get something to eat. I heard there were technical difficulties. Tony Yayo…I swear that man is gay. He’s a little too close to 50 if you get what I mean. And he should NEVER go without facial hair. I know it makes some men very clean cut but when you’re already dirty…come on now!
I enjoyed Diane Ross’s tribute. She is looking pretty good for 63. Erykah rocked it though!
Although…Stevie’s stylish must have a hellva sense of humor because that jacket was NOT hot.
Confession: I always wanted Diane’s hair. My hair is as thick as hers but no way is it that full. I always wanted her wild hair. My mother saw otherwise.
I did not, however, like the Gerald Levert tribute. I mean could I have gotten a…Gerald Levert song?!
Now they did sing extremely well *I was side eyeing Gladys wig though* but it was too…gospel-ly for me.
Don’t get me wrong, I love gospel music but umm…do Black people always have to bust out the gospel, complete with long drawn out singing, for every BET event? I get it: Black folks love the church! But damn…can a tribute consist of a song the person being honored actually sang?
*still side eyeing Patti’s dress*
James Brown tribute…eh. It was ok I guess. Public Enemy is a little too old though to be hopping around the stage. Chuck D was looking a little out of breathe.
Ciara…well at least it is confirmed sista girl is a dancer and NOT a singer. I’m bias though, I love the song and you know my fake Fatima ass know the dance steps. Except the one when she leans all the way back…um yeah I tried that once. Let’s just say I had to soak in Epsom Salt when JBN scraped me off of the floor.
Overall…I can see why I stick to the MTV awards. At least their budget is better.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Don't Call It A Comeback....
It’s a damn shame when you haven’t written in so long, you’ve forgotten your password.
I think I have a persistent strand of Malaria or something. As soon as I get well, I mean as soon as my nose clears up and I can actually smell something, I get sick all over again.
I’m convinced it’s work. You know you’re fine until you pull into the parking lot and all of a sudden you’re coughing and sneezing? I swear that’s me. I’m fine at home but as soon as I hit 110, my throat contracts and I have to pull over because I’m coughing too hard to see straight. I think I should have a note that excludes me from work, benefits and pay included of course, but my doctor and boss are not convinced.
Do people still get sick notes from the doctor?
I remember in college I got sick notes like they were going out of style. I mean having a hang over is not a medical condition but I sure could fake it like I had a cold or something. I’m sure my professor(s) thought I was about to drop dead given all the notes I gave.
Best believe I used all four/five of those “missed class penalties before it affects your grade” days.
I probably would have done better in some classes if it wasn’t for $5 pitchers of Long Island Ice Tea at White Horse on Wednesday. I mean really, who puts all the good drink specials on a weekday? Like I’m going to pass up $1 shots!
So here it is hot as hell outside and I’m having hot flashes. It’s 90 degrees and I have on a hoodie and sweats complaining that I am freezing. Then at night I’m lowering the AC to 60 and I’m kicking the covers off complaining I’m hot.
And why is it when you’re sick it seems like people want to get extra close to you to talk?
I don’t like being around too many people when I’m sick, you know I’m considerate enough to not want to release the Plague of 7 Deaths on people, but people want to get all up in my face to ask a question.
Ima need your breathe to not be on the back of my neck.
Then have the nerve to have an attitude when I tell you to fall back.
Probably the same damn reason I’m sick, too many people in my face.
Damn Community germs.
I’m going to start wearing the white mask over my mouth like the Koreans who do my nails do. Although…damn can I get a mask too? Why do I have to breathe in the fumes? Can I have healthy lungs too?
My best friend FH is finally back from Iraq. Alive and well. She’s relocating to San Antonio so a road trip is in order. Broad is still crazy.
She’s going to live next door to a strip club. I was like well there you go…part time job right there. She’d never be late for work. And after every dance she can go home and shower.
I told her I would strip but the pole is a little too unsanitary for my taste. I mean all that random coochie juice on the pole and you expect me to put my own coochie there? Please. I’d have to wipe that stage down with ammonia, bleach and Lysol spray before a bare body part touches any parts of the stage. And damn those strippers shoes, I’m too clumsy, I’m stripping in some footies.
With the little balls in the back. Gotta keep it hood.
*lol*
But until I am completely well, my ass is on house arrest.
Well besides tanning that is. Gotta get my chocolate on.
I think I have a persistent strand of Malaria or something. As soon as I get well, I mean as soon as my nose clears up and I can actually smell something, I get sick all over again.
I’m convinced it’s work. You know you’re fine until you pull into the parking lot and all of a sudden you’re coughing and sneezing? I swear that’s me. I’m fine at home but as soon as I hit 110, my throat contracts and I have to pull over because I’m coughing too hard to see straight. I think I should have a note that excludes me from work, benefits and pay included of course, but my doctor and boss are not convinced.
Do people still get sick notes from the doctor?
I remember in college I got sick notes like they were going out of style. I mean having a hang over is not a medical condition but I sure could fake it like I had a cold or something. I’m sure my professor(s) thought I was about to drop dead given all the notes I gave.
Best believe I used all four/five of those “missed class penalties before it affects your grade” days.
I probably would have done better in some classes if it wasn’t for $5 pitchers of Long Island Ice Tea at White Horse on Wednesday. I mean really, who puts all the good drink specials on a weekday? Like I’m going to pass up $1 shots!
So here it is hot as hell outside and I’m having hot flashes. It’s 90 degrees and I have on a hoodie and sweats complaining that I am freezing. Then at night I’m lowering the AC to 60 and I’m kicking the covers off complaining I’m hot.
And why is it when you’re sick it seems like people want to get extra close to you to talk?
I don’t like being around too many people when I’m sick, you know I’m considerate enough to not want to release the Plague of 7 Deaths on people, but people want to get all up in my face to ask a question.
Ima need your breathe to not be on the back of my neck.
Then have the nerve to have an attitude when I tell you to fall back.
Probably the same damn reason I’m sick, too many people in my face.
Damn Community germs.
I’m going to start wearing the white mask over my mouth like the Koreans who do my nails do. Although…damn can I get a mask too? Why do I have to breathe in the fumes? Can I have healthy lungs too?
My best friend FH is finally back from Iraq. Alive and well. She’s relocating to San Antonio so a road trip is in order. Broad is still crazy.
She’s going to live next door to a strip club. I was like well there you go…part time job right there. She’d never be late for work. And after every dance she can go home and shower.
I told her I would strip but the pole is a little too unsanitary for my taste. I mean all that random coochie juice on the pole and you expect me to put my own coochie there? Please. I’d have to wipe that stage down with ammonia, bleach and Lysol spray before a bare body part touches any parts of the stage. And damn those strippers shoes, I’m too clumsy, I’m stripping in some footies.
With the little balls in the back. Gotta keep it hood.
*lol*
But until I am completely well, my ass is on house arrest.
Well besides tanning that is. Gotta get my chocolate on.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Viva Las Vegas Part 2
Got to the hotel, checked in, took a quick shower, and it was off to the strip for us.
Ok…here’s where our common sense failed us.
We stayed next to the Convention Center which is about a mile off the strip. Next time we’re springing to stay on the Strip. The monorail is next to the Convention Center, which would take us on a quick *and refreshingly cool* ride to the Strip.
What do our black asses opt to do?
WALK.
IN 95 FUCKING DEGREE WEATHER.
TO THE STRIP.
Never the fuck again.
I don’t even like walking 4 blocks to the Metro anymore.
What made me think I could walk A MILE to the strip?
I’m breathing hard and sweating and I’m just in front of the hotel?!
I’m hot, miserable, sweating running down my back, feet hurting *although they were fierce in my Coach loafers* and I’m like dying. No shade. Hell no bugs were even out in that heat.
Just some Mexicans with wet shirts around their head. They offered me a shirt but tuh fuck up my hair?! With water?! Nigga you nuts!
So when we FINALLY hit the strip, we did the tourist thing. Snapping pictures of any and every thing. Ducking in and out of casinos. Losing money of course. Shopping at The Forum. Eating. Talking on the phone and avoiding all the bodies and traffic.
Some basketball dude was in The Forum causing a commotion. Shit he wasn’t anyone I wanted to see so I kept it moving. Like I knew who he was anyway.
JBN told me he played for the Suns and they just lost in the play offs.
I was like Oh nice, lose the playoffs and drown his sorrows in shopping and cheap booze and women in Vegas.
We’re walking in Caesar’s Palace and I’m chasing down Cleopatra and her crew for a picture, ‘cuz that’s just what type of person I am.
Like a camera whore isn’t going to troll for pictures. JBN was my official photographer. Folks were like, damn did he take any pictures, and I was like eh he’d fuck up the great shot of me for Face book.
No Myspace.
Which is the devil.
So I’m talking on the phone with one of my buddies, bragging how I’m in Vegas and her weak ass is defrosting chicken for dinner in the Chi, when I slam right into this dude.
Typical “motherfucker although I’m all in the way how dare you walk in the path that I was walking in” behavior: I chew him out. Like dude watch where the fuck you going while inspecting my shoes to make sure he didn’t step on them cuz that would’ve been a fight, stepping on my brand new fresh out the box shoes.
I go back to my phone conversation and dude kinda chuckled and was like his bad or some crap like that.
Next thing you know people just come out of no where asking to take his picture.
I had no idea who he was, thought he was another athlete or something, so I’m on the phone chatting away.
JBN walks up and is like do you know who that was? That’s that Ultimate Fighting dude who just won the fight. Once again the name slips me and I’m too lazy to google it but he’s the big Black dude whom I’m assuming whooped the hell out of his opponent, who I did recognize from an episode of “Entourage”
*lol*
JBN is like I can’t believe you don’t know who that is. His posters are like everywhere, in fact there go three right there.
So I’m like the Ultimate Dink.
BUT am I a lame for wanting a picture though? *lol*
But alas I turned back around and he was gone.
So yeah that’s my run in with a “celebrity”.
You know if some shit went down JBN was not jumping in right? Dude was like a solid side of beef.
So we gambled some more, lost money, and left to go to several more casinos. Walked around for a bit and took our asses back to the hotel for some rest.
Got up the next day, still sweltering out, got some breakfast and did the same shit we did yesterday. Got to the other end of the strip this time. Hit another mall where they were serving this BIG ASS cup of daiquiris. Those fuckers were strong as shit. More like Alcohol with colored ice. So we’re sipping these, walking in the hot ass sun, sun+alcohol don’t mix and before you know it, we were both drunk as skunks.
And since you can walk around with alcohol that made it even better for us. Stopped at another place and ate lunch and got some more drinks.
Passed out shortly after getting to the hotel.
You’d think we would’ve gotten tired of doing the same shit every day but you know we didn’t. I was into hitting the clubs, I’m weaning off of them, so what did I do to make up for not shaking my ass in some club.
I ate my ass off.
I think we ate in almost every restaurant on the strip.
And don’t let me get on some of the buffets we went to. I know people were thinking I know she’s ain’t going back up for 5ths…but I did.
There goes my diet once again.
It cooled down enough for me and I spent a couple of hours at the pool. Just chilling with the one good breeze I finally felt.
We got dressed up and went out to dinner and chilled on the strip until it got late. Had to take the taxi back as the Monorail stopped running and I was NOT walking back.
Monday we left sunny Vegas and it was yet another LONG ass flight back. It took 7 years for the sun to go down AND yet another long ass ride through another state. Not as much turbulence though and I did get at least two hours of sleep.
Apparently the AC went out while I was snoozing, giving the germs plenty of time to infiltrate my body so when we landed at Dulles, already my nose was running.
It took a downhill from there. I have been sick the entire fucking week. I’ve been completing my work and leaving early all week. Passing out on the couch with booger tissue all around me.
Smelling like Au De Vicks.
Nose as red as its going to get and skin all dry and ashy.
Voice so scratchy people have been asking me did I just wake up.
Yeah the girl is looking bad.
I’ll be back on my feet soon though.
And then I can tell you about this guy who I secretly think is stalking me.
And I’m sick but not so sick I’m not going to see Katt Williams tonight! In concert that is. I’m not that much of a groupie.
Well only for Etan. Hey I can dream can’t I?
Ok…here’s where our common sense failed us.
We stayed next to the Convention Center which is about a mile off the strip. Next time we’re springing to stay on the Strip. The monorail is next to the Convention Center, which would take us on a quick *and refreshingly cool* ride to the Strip.
What do our black asses opt to do?
WALK.
IN 95 FUCKING DEGREE WEATHER.
TO THE STRIP.
Never the fuck again.
I don’t even like walking 4 blocks to the Metro anymore.
What made me think I could walk A MILE to the strip?
I’m breathing hard and sweating and I’m just in front of the hotel?!
I’m hot, miserable, sweating running down my back, feet hurting *although they were fierce in my Coach loafers* and I’m like dying. No shade. Hell no bugs were even out in that heat.
Just some Mexicans with wet shirts around their head. They offered me a shirt but tuh fuck up my hair?! With water?! Nigga you nuts!
So when we FINALLY hit the strip, we did the tourist thing. Snapping pictures of any and every thing. Ducking in and out of casinos. Losing money of course. Shopping at The Forum. Eating. Talking on the phone and avoiding all the bodies and traffic.
Some basketball dude was in The Forum causing a commotion. Shit he wasn’t anyone I wanted to see so I kept it moving. Like I knew who he was anyway.
JBN told me he played for the Suns and they just lost in the play offs.
I was like Oh nice, lose the playoffs and drown his sorrows in shopping and cheap booze and women in Vegas.
We’re walking in Caesar’s Palace and I’m chasing down Cleopatra and her crew for a picture, ‘cuz that’s just what type of person I am.
Like a camera whore isn’t going to troll for pictures. JBN was my official photographer. Folks were like, damn did he take any pictures, and I was like eh he’d fuck up the great shot of me for Face book.
No Myspace.
Which is the devil.
So I’m talking on the phone with one of my buddies, bragging how I’m in Vegas and her weak ass is defrosting chicken for dinner in the Chi, when I slam right into this dude.
Typical “motherfucker although I’m all in the way how dare you walk in the path that I was walking in” behavior: I chew him out. Like dude watch where the fuck you going while inspecting my shoes to make sure he didn’t step on them cuz that would’ve been a fight, stepping on my brand new fresh out the box shoes.
I go back to my phone conversation and dude kinda chuckled and was like his bad or some crap like that.
Next thing you know people just come out of no where asking to take his picture.
I had no idea who he was, thought he was another athlete or something, so I’m on the phone chatting away.
JBN walks up and is like do you know who that was? That’s that Ultimate Fighting dude who just won the fight. Once again the name slips me and I’m too lazy to google it but he’s the big Black dude whom I’m assuming whooped the hell out of his opponent, who I did recognize from an episode of “Entourage”
*lol*
JBN is like I can’t believe you don’t know who that is. His posters are like everywhere, in fact there go three right there.
So I’m like the Ultimate Dink.
BUT am I a lame for wanting a picture though? *lol*
But alas I turned back around and he was gone.
So yeah that’s my run in with a “celebrity”.
You know if some shit went down JBN was not jumping in right? Dude was like a solid side of beef.
So we gambled some more, lost money, and left to go to several more casinos. Walked around for a bit and took our asses back to the hotel for some rest.
Got up the next day, still sweltering out, got some breakfast and did the same shit we did yesterday. Got to the other end of the strip this time. Hit another mall where they were serving this BIG ASS cup of daiquiris. Those fuckers were strong as shit. More like Alcohol with colored ice. So we’re sipping these, walking in the hot ass sun, sun+alcohol don’t mix and before you know it, we were both drunk as skunks.
And since you can walk around with alcohol that made it even better for us. Stopped at another place and ate lunch and got some more drinks.
Passed out shortly after getting to the hotel.
You’d think we would’ve gotten tired of doing the same shit every day but you know we didn’t. I was into hitting the clubs, I’m weaning off of them, so what did I do to make up for not shaking my ass in some club.
I ate my ass off.
I think we ate in almost every restaurant on the strip.
And don’t let me get on some of the buffets we went to. I know people were thinking I know she’s ain’t going back up for 5ths…but I did.
There goes my diet once again.
It cooled down enough for me and I spent a couple of hours at the pool. Just chilling with the one good breeze I finally felt.
We got dressed up and went out to dinner and chilled on the strip until it got late. Had to take the taxi back as the Monorail stopped running and I was NOT walking back.
Monday we left sunny Vegas and it was yet another LONG ass flight back. It took 7 years for the sun to go down AND yet another long ass ride through another state. Not as much turbulence though and I did get at least two hours of sleep.
Apparently the AC went out while I was snoozing, giving the germs plenty of time to infiltrate my body so when we landed at Dulles, already my nose was running.
It took a downhill from there. I have been sick the entire fucking week. I’ve been completing my work and leaving early all week. Passing out on the couch with booger tissue all around me.
Smelling like Au De Vicks.
Nose as red as its going to get and skin all dry and ashy.
Voice so scratchy people have been asking me did I just wake up.
Yeah the girl is looking bad.
I’ll be back on my feet soon though.
And then I can tell you about this guy who I secretly think is stalking me.
And I’m sick but not so sick I’m not going to see Katt Williams tonight! In concert that is. I’m not that much of a groupie.
Well only for Etan. Hey I can dream can’t I?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
