Wednesday, January 30, 2008

F*cking Demon Birds...

So this week I’ve been “training” at my old property because apparently I need training.

Or at least that’s how my manager relayed it before he booked out of the country for the next two months.

I’m not going to complain, I mean aside from the behind the scenes bullshit which caused me to leave in the first place, I genuinely like most of the people that still works there. We still go out for drinks, kick it, and of course trade property gossip among one another.

And besides I needed a vacation from my old property so yeah I can suck up a couple of days of basically doing nothing but answering phones and clowning on the job’s clock.

I mean because that’s all my “training” was- me bullshitting around.

Oh and clowning. Can’t forget the clowning.

Like one of my friends was like “Sooo you just gonna strut in here with the Josie and the Pussycat boots huh? Like Bam…I’m just ready to perform huh?”

So of course you know I about died laughing right? And then with the impromptu dance routine he broke out in…I was too through.

The rest of the week I was “Josie”.

Folks I haven’t seen in a minute of course asked about the wedding plans and were surprised we haven’t jumped the broom yet.

Hell some skipped right over the wedding and got straight to the point: Am I knocked up yet?

*Questions more funnier by the fact that Dej asked the same questions*

I don’t know why people seem to get insulted when you say “No”.

I’m like damn the man upstairs has more plans for me than my damn uterus!

Be fruitful my ass. The Lord knows me.

He knows I don’t have a clear “exit” strategy yet *lol*

And yes I’m serious…I’m a punk when it comes to pain.

Said the chick with numerous tattoos and random body piercing over the years.

Contradicting statements I know.

Like I love chicken but I’m terrified of most flying creatures.

Like Ok today…everyone knows I’m terrified of pigeons. I think they are the scummiest, nastiest, most what less birds ever and I’m convinced one is going to peck my eye out one day.

I swear it’s like those demon rats smell my fear and make a devious effort to terrify me to no avail.

So I’m walking home from work *I know one of the perks I miss from working there…the ability to walk my ass home from work. Oh and for a random hour or two but who’s counting* and I know they lurk under the walkway so I try to walk as close to the side walk as possible.

Tell me why one came from underneath the car and charged at me?!

Ok well he flapped his wings or something but by that time I was screaming like hell and running down the street like a mad woman.

Outside of the treadmill the last time I ran that fast…in heels no less…was when I had less than 10 minutes to get to Cold Stone before it closed. No lie. My ass will move for some food.

So I’m like brushing imaginary bird fluff from me, shuddering at the close encounter, when I hear someone calling my name.

Now I have to tell people I’m from the Chi and in my parts of town blowing horns, slowing down in a vehicle, and calling one’s name is NOT the business. I’m immune to all of that and if you slow down too much best believe I’m in the fighting stance because someone’s ass is going to get whooped trying to drag me in the car.

So I’m ignoring the voice because who knows who it is and chances are it’s someone I don’t want to talk to.

Car straight stops in the middle of the cross walk spooking my ass.

Turns out it’s no one but one of the managers at my property…cackling his ass off because he saw my flight of the birds escape up the street. Dude is like dying in the car.

So yeah…I can expect a mass work email of my blunder by tomorrow.

I am such a lame lol.

Monday, January 28, 2008

Responses to Broken Record...

Dej asked:
1.How many kids do u plan on having?

How many kids do I want? One maybe two since I haven’t figured how exactly I’m going to get the baby out since vaginal birth is definitely out because I’m afraid my coochie lips are going to swing low, sweet chariot down to the ground. Not to mention the thought of a c-section turns my stomach and I’ve heard about phantom pains and stuff and we all know I’m a huge punk when it comes to pain so ummm I don’t have a good exit strategy right now ya know?

Now how many kids will I have if JBN has his way with my uterus? Five or more. He wants a starting line up and shit. He doesn’t know about the secret vasectomy he’s going to have after baby #1 *lol*

2.When you gon get started on it?

God willing I don’t plan on having a baby until I’m 28 or 29. I’m in no rush to enter parent hood. Shoot I have enough family popping out babies as it is. Every time I go home I swear there’s a new baby in the house.

Now this is pending honey moon that is. Nothing would piss me off more than if I got knocked up on the honey moon.'s the wedding crap coming along?

At the end of the month I’m mailing off invites *finally*! My last major milestone will be cleared. Then I can focus my side eye on my bridesmaids and groomsmen. Folks been slacking and it’s time to get up in that ass right quick.

4.Describe your reaction if you woke up a 32d cup tomorrow?
Girl…you already know…straight put ‘em on the glass.

That’ll be the day I’m walking around bra less the entire day complete with the slow “Baywatch” running…even when my ass has no reason to run. I’m going in VS and pulling the bras from the front of the rack, and did I mention I’m putting my knockers on every counter I can find? Girl I’m straight clowning with my 32D.

Nexgrl asked:

5.Did you go to the doctor yet?

I have a doctor’s appointment *finally* on the 8th…One day after the dentist *sigh*. How much you wanna bet my cold will suddenly disappear so my doctor can once again give me the side eye and send me away.

6. Is it just a cold?

I’m convinced it’s cancer.

7.Have you ever been tested for allergies?

I haven’t been tested in years but I don’t think it’s allergies…unless I’m just allergic to work in general.

Pro asked:

8.Do you read literature other than blogs? Fiction, chick lit, Black romance, nonfiction, self-help... What?

I read a little bit of everything. You should see my book shelf. If it catches my eye and I want to read past the first page, I’ll pretty much read it. If we’re asking for specific authors…mmmm….I think I have read almost any one you can think of, either for college papers or just on some general stuff. My genre is mainly fiction because like a small animal I’m drawn to shiny covers but lately I’ve been drifting into the nonfiction section at the bookstore.

9.Does JBN know about your blog? If so, does he read or comment (in person) on occasion?

Actually he does, I never made it a point to hide it from him and he reads it from time to time, I can’t tell you the last time he might have read it though. We haven’t had a dispute over something I’ve written in ages *lol* and I think the last time when I was talking about this dude called “Cutie” and he was more upset at the fact that I called him “cute” than anything…old jealous cow *lol* From time to time, you might see an anonymous commenter…often times it’s him.

10.What TV show(s) are you into of late?

Outside of old Law and Order, House, and CSI episodes, if it’s not Boondocks, Family Guy, Without a Trace, Cold Case Files, Intervention, South Park, The Wire, Entourage, and various shows on The History Channel, The Discovery Channel or TLC…I don’t watch a lot of television. I’ve never seen an episode of Lost, Grey’s Anatomy, or Heroes. I don’t watch what most people watch. I'm such a loser.

11.Night owl or early bird?

I do my best work at night *wink wink* but I’m more functional during the day. I moan and groan but once I take a hot shower, I’m up for the rest of the day. Of course this includes my “nap time”.

12.Have you ever considered natural remedies as opposed to OTC drugs/meds to cure your ailments?

If we’re talking natural= I don’t take anything and just suffer for x amount of days/weeks/months until I’m well otherwise I never thought about it too much. I’m not really a drug taker. Another reason I stay sick…I never finish any medication I’m given, I usually have more than ½ the prescription left. I’m actually scared that everything will fuck with my birth control and next thing you know…a tearful blog talking about how I went to get my 8th opinion and I refuse to accept that I’m knocked.

But I’m always willing to broaden my thoughts. Send me the info and I’ll look it over.

13.Favorite secks position; with description (especially if it's some hang on the canopy that doubles as a skripper pole move your drunken-ass done made up with your fi-nan-say/fiance)?

LOL only you Pro!!

Ok after the fiasco concerning the lamp doubling as a pole resulting in a skinned knee and hurt pride…I stop letting furniture double as my own personal stage/pole.
My favorite position is naturally from the back. I dunno I think I like the way my booty jiggle or something because I HAVE to have sex from the back, like if I don’t have sex any other way, I gotta get it from the back.

The best is when I’m leaning over the bed/couch/counter and he lightly smacks my ass before sliding in reaalllll slow and just pause for a hot second before he hits that spot and my back arch all the way up and….

OK Pro…you’re trying to get someone raped when he walks in the door *wink*

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Broken Record...

Since I'm fighting yet another persistent Ebola/Malaria/Flu super bug, because you know, germs love me and all...ya girl is under the weather yet again.

I swear if I actually tagged my entries, more than half would fall under the "Death and Disease" thread. It seems like I am always sick.

I'm making a doctor's appointment right now as I type...OK well I'm still on hold but whatever, this is getting ridiculous.

And since I'm one of the biggest hydrochondriac in the world, I am convinced it's something serious. Like I think I have asbestos or something. And although my best friend and JBN are like "Yeah asbestos causes cancer and not the common cold...I might have ran up on the new asbestos or something. Might have rapidly mutated in my body or something."

Oh yeah...I also have an overactive imagination as well.

It's like as soon as I get well...someone sneezes and BAM sick all over again.

So because I can't concentrate because I'm doped up on various meds...I'm going to do yet another open forum.

Ask me questions, no topic off limits, and I'll answer it to the best of my ability.

Don't worry this isn't like the last time when I fell off the face of the earth...My muse is still going strong but ummm....yeah...drooling all over the lap top is not really going to help my muse.

So ask away.

And why did my job block blogger?! I can look at everything damn thing I want BUT I can't log on to blogger and while I can view blogs, for the most part I can't comment.

Now ain't that some shit? I can view all I want but can't comment on my favorite blogs?

Man that's that bullshit!

So I gotta make my rounds at home...don't worry I'm still reading just can't comment!!!

*stomp off mumbling and coughing*

Monday, January 21, 2008

I Heart Alcoholics

You know since I’ve stopped “social drinking”…ok let’s be honest stopped being a drunk…I’ve gotten so much delight in messing with the drunk.

How come no one told me it was so much fun to fuck with drunken people?

Especially drunk white people?

Case in point: One of co-workers and I are really cool. We call ourselves the “Ebony and Ivory” of our department. We lightly flirt with each other and it’s a favorite past time of mine to make him blush, as white people blushing amuses me.

Told you…I amuse easily.

Now when we first met, we didn’t like each other. He thought I was a mean bitch and I thought he was an uptight asshole. We butted heads constantly and it was times we went all silent treatment on each other for a number of days, only communicating via email…even though our desk were right across from one another. Yeah we would email each other to ask for a stapler…which shows how petty we both were.

But over time the ice melted and we became friends. Hence “Ebony and Ivory”. Not to mention we joke about the bi-racial babies we will have when I divorce JBN after he leaves me for a white girl when he gets that 120K job.

*lol* My humor is sick and racist I know.

So we’re all out on a Happy Hour thing with some folks from work. As a white guy, you know he proceeded to get wasted. I mean I think beer is nasty as shit but apparently it’s an acquired taste. I mean he must have drunk close to 5 beers before the hour was up and was urging the bartender for me.

I mean I’m sipping my little watered down Coke, deflecting the taunts and teases of me being a “pussy” because I didn’t want to drink. But I’m not going to go over my calorie intake for some Captain Morgan’s, no matter how passionate Captain Morgan and I used to be.

But as he gets drunker, the conversation went to the perverted side.

Now you know I’m down for some good old dirty talk because I’m a pervert like that. So he’s telling me this super graphic story about some skank he picked up at the bar, *clearly AIDS is not an issue in the White community*, and banged her ass out before sending her ass home in a cab, *clearly $$ isn’t an issue either, her ass would’ve been on Metro fucking around with me. Hell lucky if I drove her to the station*, when he turns to me and asks me…

“Is it true Black women don’t suck dick?”

Now honestly, if he was some other guy I probably would’ve gotten mad and cursed him out but we’re cool. I consider him a good friend and he’s one of few white guys, hell people, that I don’t think is an undercover racist. I mean we joke around but “nigger”, “honkey” or any derogatory term has never entered our vocabulary.

Stereotypes on the other hand….

Now he’s weaving, looking at me all squinty eyes, and with a completely straight face. Ok as straight as a drunk could get.

…And it was on and popping from that point.

Now clearly I’m amused because I know HELLA black chicks that will suck a dick with the quickness. I mean have no problems with throwing their lips to the shit, no big deal.

I mean I like sucking dick myself, I don’t love it, but I like it. I’m not doing just any old Joe but I will suck a dick.
…Now my dick sucking skills may be questionable as I don’t have that “Look”, or so I’ve been told, but it is done.

…Killing part…he was like “I look like I don’t suck dick”. I was *dead* right then and there.

So we’re having a drunken/sober debate about sucking dick. Of course since I say “dick” or “penis” on a regular basis, most of our co workers ignored our conversation, just a regular conversation as far as they’re concerned, although the bartender is raising his eyebrow at this point, I mean it was loud and we were kind of shouting.

And then he just blows me with this statement:

“You know…I love eating pussy. And I KNOW I would eat the shit out of yours.”

Now…I LOVE performed oral sex. Someone just have to mention eating pussy and the Coochie Sense *kinda like Spidey Sense* just goes off. Got to cross my legs and shit.

But I’m laughing hard because he’s so drunk at this point, due to me cleverly plying him with drinks, I don’t even think he knows what he’s saying.

Getting mad *drunk style* because I’m laughing at him, I guess he thought I was blowing off his pussy eating skills, he gets REAL loud.

Now folks' heads are turning because they see this “angry” white guy yelling at a black chick. I guess they were being alert in case I came out the purse with my AK-47 because, you know, Black people packs heat all the time just like in the movies and rap videos.

And he would yell out super loud, as there was a dull silence due to a song ending, that he would eat the SHIT out my pussy right now and we can go get a room RIGHT NOW if I don’t believe him.

I swear I’ve never seen a place get quiet so damn fast. Even I had an open mouth.

I swear he turned so red from embarrassment I thought he was about to pass out. It didn’t help that I start laughing loud as hell.

Giving me the evil eye he just turned and went to the other side of the room.

Didn’t talk to me the whole night esp. since everyone *including me* was teasing him about it. And you know me…straight ignorant.

So of course the next day at work he pulled me aside and apologized for his behavior. And of course said he was NEVER drinking around me ever again in life. Talking about “I tricked him”.

Tuh as if I would…I mean I might have steered the conversation in that direction but tricked? I think not.

I can see why it was fun when my friends would tease and bother me while I was drunk so they can relive the conversation(s) to me at a later date.
…I can imagine some of the toasting speeches at the wedding and I shudder.

Being sober all the time might not be a bad thing after all.

*wicked smile*

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Unsolicated Mess...


…Well what do you know? Rappers can spell. And *gasp* might actually know the definition. Although I had NO idea what the hell they were spelling or even talking about at first.

Then again do I ever know what rappers are spelling or talking about?

Of course you know I got chuckles out of this song…I’m like what is this…the Ghetto Chick “independent woman” song?

…and then again this is a friend’s ring tone which is how I first heard the mess in the first place. Not to mention the song assault my eats every time I turn on the radio. Killing part is she’s about as independent as one of my fingers.

…How are you independent and yet still live with your mother and have no job?

Ok the other day I’m checking one of my personal email accounts at work *shut up*, see an email from SIGMA and although I’m tempted to just delete it, which is what I usually do since he’s not talking about anything but this time I decided to open it to see what the hell he wanted.

Tell me why there is a HUGE picture of his dick with the message “It wants to taste you”.

I about died from embarrassment because due to ongoing renovations at my property we’re all corralled into one general space and I mean this was a BIG ass picture of a dick, a hard long erect BLACK dick, completely engulfing my screen and folks couldn’t help but smirk and give me the side eye.

And like I said we’re about as un-“PC” as you can get.

So while I’m frantically trying to X the screen I’m getting jokes all around about my “porn” addiction, JBNs and I sex life and the such. And when I mentioned it was actually my ex’s penis and JBN sends shots like that straight to the cell phone, a couple of girls were like, well can I have his number then?

…And even today the jokes just keep rolling in. This is going into the infamous “Office” stories folder.

Granted he has a very nice dick but…umm yeah…I’m going to need him to utilize the CC format when emailing lewd pictures.

I’m just saying don’t send the SAME picture you have sent to other girls. It was like 25 email addresses on the “to” line.

I was like Damn so you’re just that lazy huh, just send the same email and wait for a reply huh? What ever happened to discretion when trying to be a player? Thirsty ass.

…And yes later on I went back home and looked at the picture again and noticed that *lol*. I may not like the man attached to the penis but damn if I don’t like the penis attached to the man. *lol*

…Ok and I am a pervert.

And yes I showed my “roomie” since she is NOT convinced of this man’s craziness. And ever the pervert like me, she’s like “Well I wouldn’t still call that crazy but *looks closer at the screen* but damn G…he does have a nice dick though. I mean that shit is really nice…Is it real?!”

…I told her if she wanted walls looser than what they already were *lol* she’s more than happy to tangle with him. I don’t need King Dangalang…the Prince will do just fine…Hell the Duke can do the job as well. I don’t need a dick that doubles as a kick stand. A super huge dick in my book will get you the infamous “leg cramp” stunt and a quick deletion from my phone book. *lol*

While I’m not keen on passing along my sloppy seconds and thirds because well...they’re my sloppy seconds and thirds and I’m like a weirdo when it comes to stuff like that because I’m not too concerned about who a man sleeps with before me you know as long as she was disease free but if it’s someone I know…that’s just disgusting because all I’m thinking about is “I know this guy ate [insert name] pussy and they probably fucked and I’ll be damned if he kisses me on the mouth or I give him head…”

…But of course he’s free to use his mouth on my lower regions only *lol*

…I know. I am the biggest hypocrite in the world *lol*

I told JBN about it, ok well he caught us giggling into the monitor, and just like the person he is, he’s like, “Well if you’re so insulted…Why yall all up in the screen?”

…Like that is the point. I hate when he’s like, logical, and stuff. *lol*

Always thinking and shit *lol*

After giggling a few more times like I’m 15 sneaking and watching a dirty movie, I went ahead and deleted the stupid thing.
...and by deleted I mean transferred to another email account *lol*

Lesson of the day: Don’t send me unsolicited penis shots unless you want me to show it to all of my friends and we laugh and dissect your treasured body part.

I mean at least ask me or something, like " mind if I send you this shot of a penis you will never get..." So I can at least "Sure lemme see.." or "Nah Bruh I'm look like you're not working with anything...why waste the time"

…I mean jeez I’m almost a married woman. I shouldn't be looking at another man's penis in the first place, I mean outside of porn that is because you know they're, like, not really people you know so that makes it ok. However...

*looks at phone*

Maybe JBN will be inspired to send me more naked pictures.

…Now he can send me all the shots he wants. Thank god for the memory card *wink*

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

The Nerve of Some People...

You know…some niggas have a LOT of nerve.

Take for example a couple of weeks ago.

My godson’s mother *I’m really going to have to remember the alias I gave her* called me and gave me some earth shattering news.

We’re talking about the wedding of course, because you know when you’re about to get married that’s all people want to talk about, and she tells me how she spoke to KAPPA *they dated in high school* and how he told her he was going to be a groomsmen.

*record scratch*

Excuse me?! Wha?

Now of course she laughs in his face and told him he was delusional because there was no way in hell he was making it through the door let alone becoming a member of MY wedding party.

So he goes into this tirade with her on how JBN is his pers and it’s tradition and how it would be wrong for JBN to not honor the tradition and all that jazz.

I mean sure we had a drunken tryst that I rather poke my eyes out with a hot poker than admit you took advantage of my drunken state, then stalked me for numerous months not to mention almost broke up my relationship…but um yeah nigga you can be in the wedding. I mean I always let niggas I’ve fucked take part in very important parts of my life.

I mean that nigga who ate my pussy freshman year? Oh yeah he so walked across the stage with me at my college graduation because I mean, why not?

I mean no hard feelings right?

I don’t have to tell you I was heated and I was so tempted to call and curse him out…but I didn’t want him to have my number. So I had my friend, who was amused by this because we get amused so easily, relay a message back to the psychopath.

And then I shook JBN out of his nap on the couch and relayed the same thing to him. To which he yawned and went back to sleep. *lol* I guess he’s used to my temper tantrum.

The nerve of this nigga!

Then recently I stopped hiding my status on Yahoo because I effectively gotten rid of the random stalker/perv who thinks I’m into IM sex with a complete stranger.

Yeah like I’m up at this ungodly hour trolling for internet booty. And although I don’t know you, let me type dirty words to you and masturbate like I do know you because you know the fact that I know NOTHING about you makes me so hot.

*roll eyes*

So one night, I get an IM from SIGMA. Effectively riding him as a stalker a minute ago, I’m on some “what the hell do you want?” type of attitude.

Do you know this fool asked can he have an invite to my wedding?!

The nerve of this nigga!

Sure I’m more than willing to let a man who has confessed his love for me, his desire to be with me, hell wants to marry me himself and has persistently bugged me for over a year come to the wedding he was so determined to stop a few short months ago.

The fuck he think this is…a Mariah Carey video?

Like I’m going to be standing at the alter, torn expression on my face, looking back over my shoulder scanning for him, only for him to burst through the door, I gather my dress up and run down the aisle into his arm, JBN looking on with slumped and dejected shoulders.

… Riiight.

Then had to nerve to get upset talking about “We’re friends”.

I closed the window on his ass. I don’t have time for that shit.

I even had to burst a few co-workers bubbles.

I don’t even like you but you’re making plans to come to a wedding you’re not even invited to.

One chick even asked me what the weather is like in Chicago in August so she knows what to pack.

“For what? You’re not invited.”

*insert stunned face*

“But…We’re co-workers.”
*insert As if I gave a damn face*

“Yeah…this is a family and close friends wedding. Co-Workers need not apply”

*accusing tone* “Well you invited [insert a couple of co workers I’m cool with names]. They’re co-workers.”

Since clearly home girl wasn’t getting the picture and already had her hands on her hips, I just had to shut it down.

“Oh…Well…I just don’t like you” *goes back to typing email*

Looks up, she’s still standing by my chair.

“That is all. Please close my door on the way out.”

The nerve of this nigga. Well she’s not Black; she’s from some where in the Middle East, but still…the nerve of this nigga.

I don’t remember a wedding where invites are so coveted.

I almost feel like hiring a bouncer.

Who knew I was so popular?

…And damn who knew the pussy was that good? Maybe I do need a “Platinum Pussy” t shirt complete with glitter.

I’ll wear it to the bachlorette’s party.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Weekend Recap...

Unfortunately there's nothing to tell about Philly.

While we had a good time eating *like I never have a good time doing that*, shopping and doing the tourist thing, snapping more pictures of the same things we took pictures of this past summer, we didn't do anything significant.

Although we did go to King of Prussia mall *thanks J for the clarification* and I almost died in Hello Kitty heaven because they had a Sanrio store in the mall.

I did have a picture of me jumping up and down in glee but of course the picture is too blurry.

Ok and I may have knocked over a small child or two getting into the store but hey they should've gotten out of my way...shoot these young kids have, like, no respect for their elders, ya know?

But dammit if Pennslyvania doesn't have a lot of toll roads! Man I mean got damn, it seemed everytime we turned around we hit a toll.

We thought of hitting Atlantic City but after walking the entire mall *in boots at that* I was tired as shit.

And while JBN loves that mess called a "Philly Cheese Steak", I can't stomach that bullshit. My stomach turned everytime we passed a place selling that mess.

And damn that "You gotta find the right spot", if I don't fucks with one, damn sure I don't fucks with all. And all them joints steaks looks like my first, second and third attempts at cooking.

But we had a nice time, I mean I wanted to go to Boston but after finding out how long of a drive that is, I had to veto the idea.

Tenacious does not do road trips. I'm a flying *although I hate doing it* broad.


..and sorry X I know you licking your chops waiting for some drama to kick off with my unplanned roomie but so far...nothing.

I'm at work all day, JBN is either at work or in class, and she's gone out the house all day. We all meet up around dinner time and shortly after that I have been in the bed.

I came home today and she has good news, she'll be out by Friday. Apparently she found a place to stay. It's in her price range and it's not too far from the Capitol. She's kinda "boughetto" so she wanted something real nice for the cheap, which we tried to explain to her she's not find Champaign, IL prices in a DC world.

But she found something so I'm happy for her.

Besides she has a boo anyway that she coos into the phone with all hours of the day. Works for me as long as I don't have to hear that shit when I'm trying to sleep.

I don't do that cake shit. *lol*

But then again this is only day 3. It's usually Day 5 when someone works my nerves.

Ok who am I kidding...usually it takes less than 10 minutes for someone to work my nerves.

But I secretly think she's quick to leave because we have the cat. She is convinced our cat, the cat who was chewing on my $42 bra just the other day, the cat who likes to lick my shoes, better yet the cat that remains passed out on the table, is trying to eat her. Talking about she woke up and the cat was inches from her face eyeing her licking his chops.

I about died laughing but hell this is his crib.

Shoot if I knew it was a cat that would get someone out the crib, I would've sent a gang of them to my mama house when my brother was living at home with his baby moms turned wife.

So...keep them fingers crossed. Might be a different story the next time I blog *lol*

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Short Trip...

This weekend I'm going to Philly.

Not sure how what we're going to do as I don't like to venture outside too much in the winter.

The last time we went to Philly it was hot and sunny and plenty to do, although I never did get to hit up the Mall of Prussia or whatever it's called.

Is this a good mall *for any Philly readers* or it is like a "tourist" trap mall?

I mean I can do those types of malls but if it's the ghetto mall with about 8 nail salons, nothing but urban stores, often with the name spelled wrong or still trying to sell Dobb hats and Pimp someone my age is really going to rock a Purple suit, matching gators and hat.

And I don't want any fist fights in the food courts or you know a random jacking in the parking garage.

I'm going to have to do my research on nice indoor things to do because I don't do the cold.

I may need this short stint since *sigh* apparently one of my friends will be staying in the area for about 6 months doing god knows what.

Ok I know she's doing some type of political internship but my eyes roll in the back of my head and drool forms when she goes into her job description.

Now she had months to find a short-term apartment because I had made it quite clear she is NOT spending the entire 6 months crashed out on my couch so she can avoid paying rent.

Now JBN and I offered to help her find an apartment because we've been in the area long enough and besides we don't want her to go through the horrors we did looking for an apartment online. I'm not trying to have her in the projects or a rough part of time.

I mean we're from the streets but we ain't from the streets, ya dig? She's a fashion whore and I know someone wouldn't hesitate to hem her up at the bus stop for her Coach bag and loafers.

But you know how friends are..."Oh I got somebody looking out for me yada yada yada"...she swore up and down this chick she knows was hooking her up with an I washed my hands clean of the situation.

Now of course she's calling me with the sob story of how her plans fell through yada yada yada she's homeless and she starts her internship Monday and can she crash at our apartment for a week and she swear she's gone by the following week.

*insert side eye*

Now cruel and evil Tenacious who can really give a fuck about the plight of others as long as it doesn't affect her had her mouth twisted to tell her "Hell No"!!

But compassionate Tenacious is like I'm not that cold. It is the winter...Spring/Summer would have been another story.

Consulted with JBN about this because if he said no, oh well girl I tried. But we're all mutual friends and although we're both pissed about the situation, I'm not going to leave her out in the cold.

I told her she has exactly one week. She comes into town on Saturday, she's on her own getting to our crib as we'll be in Philly.

Oh yes, one monkey doesn't stop the show.

She has until next Saturday and she's out the door. And I don't play with that shit. Too many people in my family have tried to pull that "1 month=2 years" bullshit and I'm only 10% compassionate and understanding. She's got to go at the end of the week.

I remember when one of my cousins tried to pull that shit a few years ago. Shit it's damn near 5 people in a two bed room apartment and she wanted to move her AND her kid in. Oh no best believe at the end of the month her bags were packed when she came back from where ever she was kicking it at.

So we'll see how this run. This will be a long ass week I can tell you that.

Tuesday, January 08, 2008


Courtesy of my BK buddy Dej

Two Names you go by:

1. Toy

2. Ten

Two Things You Are Wearing Right Now:

1. Old college t-shirt of JBN’s

2. PJ bottoms that I snatched up before JBN could get into them. Out of all the PJ bottoms I have, I love to wear his and get an attitude when he asks can he wear his pants for a change.

Two Things You Would Want (or have) in a Relationship:

1. Excellent communication skills

2. A good time, sense of humor, etc.

Two of your favorite things to do:

1. Sleep, my favorite past time.

2. Mimic dance videos. Yes, I am the lame that learn dances from the videos. Including the pauses from when they cut away to another scene *lol*

Two things you want very badly at the moment:

1. More money.

2. Not a six pack but a flatter stomach. I’m getting there, just slowly.

Two pets you had/have:

1. Cats. I am a cat person.

2. A salamander that escaped his cage and later was crushed by my moms, convinced it was some type of insect. Then she tried to cover it up by buying me another…only it was the wrong color *sigh*

Two people you think will fill this out:

1. Pro

2. T. Cas

Two things you did last night:

1. Slept.

2. Talked on IM with my best friend.

Two things you ate today:

1. Salad. No dressing.

2. Shrimp fried rice.

Two people you last talked to:

1. JBN

2. Stupid guy at the gym who tried to take a picture of my sweaty butt. Perv.

Two things you're doing tomorrow:

1. Going to the gym. If I’m not banned, that is.

2. The bookstore.

Two longest car rides:

1. Driving to Chicago from Virginia *and back*--about an 8 hour drive, 9 if we count when we got pulled over in Ohio for speeding.

2. Driving from Chicago to Arkansas as a kid. I don’t know how long it was but I damn near died from boredom.

Two favorite holidays:

1. Thanksgiving. Need I say more?

2. My birthday…which I consider a holiday lol

Favorite beverages:

1. water

2. orange juice

Person no longer alive who you'd like to talk to:

1. My grandfather on my father’s side.

2. My great aunt Rose.

Mrs. Pro, T. Cas and're up next!!

Sunday, January 06, 2008

I Hate Being Sick...

So Mama Bear is sick yet again.

I just don’t understand.

I eat healthy, I’ve began taking vitamins, I actually dress for the weather now *Meaning I toss on a sweater instead of a long sleeved t-shirt*, and my fruit juices are not mixed with alcohol anymore...and I still manage to contract a cold.

I’m all healthy and well…someone sneezes on me, two days later…”Dawn of the Dead” complexion, chapped up nose, and puffy eyes.

I’m convinced it’s work.

I’m never sick or feeling feverish until I pull into the parking garage.

I think my job harvest typhoid, ebola and malaria. I mean as soon as I get out the car, I get the aches. The sniffles. And the moans of despair.

Ok I’m moaning because I have to go to work but still…moans of despair.

Of course I call to whine to my mother while at work, not like I had anything to do. I’ve been so bored at work I’ve been looking up random stuff on Wikipedia. You name it, I’ve probably looked it up.

Might as well use the company phone for personal phone calls right?

Of course my mother, the old school home remedy queen, wants me to smother myself in a blanket to “sweat the fever out”. Then a good old dose of the “Tussin and slathering my body in Vicks Vapor rub should do the trick.


There was no going to the doctor as a kid for the common cold. My brother and I were my mother’s personal test subjects. It’s a damn shame when you’re sick as all get out and rather crawl out the door than alert your mom to your illness.

We knew what that meant.

A couple of nights on the couch, wrapped up like a Vicks pig in a blanket and a space heater blasting in our face. She had us so tight we couldn’t even move. She’ll come in every couple of hours and turn us over and shit, wipe the sweat off of our forehead, smirking in satisfaction because she was convinced we were getting well because we were sweating thus “sweating the fever out”

Yeah Ma, the space heater blasting on 100 and a thick down blanket had nothing to do with it.
I’m still convinced this was a form of child abuse.

We used to fake getting well just so we wouldn’t have to go into the “Blanket of Doom”.

*insert traumatic flashback*

After work I went to the store and loaded up on tissue, chicken noodle soup and orange juice and I’m going to hope for the best.

If I keep getting randomly sick, I’m going to buy a gas mask.

Friday, January 04, 2008

Blond Moments...

I know I don’t have not a blond hair on my head…at least not anymore *Bad Ass Perm*…But I sure do have Dumb Blond moments.

Take the time I went up to the wrong car, hit the “Unlock” button and I was puzzled when nothing happened. Tried to put the key in the door, key wouldn’t turn. So I get mad and starting yelling and beating on the car *like that was going to do something*…only to hear someone calling my name. JBN is looking at me like I’m crazy.
…Why was I at the wrong car? Same make, model and color of the car…but with Maryland plates.
…Embarrassed I slunk away to our car with my head down while JBN is rolling. He must have teased me for a week.

Or the numerous times I’m pushing on a door…when it says “Pull”. And I’m always getting mad as hell at the door, like it’s the door’s fault I can’t read.

And the time I walked right into the door.
…Ok that one was kind of not my fault. I was reading and walking at the same time, looked up to see a guy holding the door open for me, I guess I took too long to get to the door so he let it go but I’m still looking down at the book…walked right into the door.
…Complete with that “thoink” noise so everyone looked up.
…I couldn’t even play that one off.

Or how about the time I was on the elevator and I’m pressing the button wondering why the elevator isn’t going down
…Tell me why I was pressing the button for my floor instead of “Lobby”?
…Even got my ass off the elevator to inspect the buttons…
…And it still took me a minute to realize WHY the elevator still wasn’t working?!

I’ve gone to the wrong apartment thinking it’s mine and had the nerve to get indignant with the person who answered the door like it’s their fault I’m virtually trying to break into their apartment.

I’ve blanked out on the simplest tasks, like learning to tie my shoes. I’ve stared in puzzlement as I’ve tried to remember what the hell I was trying to do.

Man and last week…Why did I get trapped in the bathroom stall? How the HELL do you get locked in a place? And I was a struggling sister with that door.
…And I’ll be damned if I crawl under the door. And put my hands and knees on a public bathroom’s floor?! Not to mention fuck up my jeans?! Have dust and shit on my knees, folks would swear up and down I was sucking some dick in the bathroom.

I know I know…laugh.

I do it all the damn time.

My friends and I say ”Cole…You stooo-pid…” when an overwhelmingly blond moment occurs to one of us because we’re completely random like that. Use random references and such.

We’re not blond when it comes to random pop culture facts and the random quote but let one of us get locked out the house on our own accord…Blond for days.

Am I the only one at least one blond moment a day?

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

New Years Recap...

My New Years wasn’t a complete bust.

Sure I cheated on my diet and had two drinks
…but I had the vodka with cranberry juice…and cranberry juice is healthy right?

BUT I was not drunk.

In fact, I was completely sober.

I was actually home by 1 am too. Yeah I know. Sober and I beat the rising sun?

’08 is going to be a great year.

Actually I slept all day Tuesday. I think I woke up officially around 3:00pm.

I apparently needed that rest because my feet were burning from last night.

I am convinced one of the circles of hell consists of stilettos, endless dancing, and the agony of walking two blocks to the car, hobbling from the pain.

I don’t know I always insist on buying the highest heels my little ass can find. I trip over my own feet wearing flip flops but I always want 4 inch spiked heels.
…to bob and dance in.

So I was at FUR last night and I enjoyed myself thoroughly. I guess since we got there by 9 and nonstop dancing and drinking *for them* the minute we got in the door, no wonder we were popped by midnight.

Or maybe our asses are just old.

So we danced, snickered at white peoples dancing, avoided the OBNOXIOUS amount of “Arabs” that suddenly infiltrated the club, avoided more drunk white people, and fought and scrapped to get to the door.

I don’t know who is more annoying on the dance floor: drunken white people or drunken “others”. None of them can dance after a certain number of drinks but damn if they’re not going to flay their arms about like they’re having a seizure and fall all on you while you’re trying to get your groove on.

I swear for it to be against their religion to drink and all that jazz…Arabs sure do get fucked up in the club.

I mean I could only wonder would they be stoned if only people knew how geeked the men got from Beyonce’s “Get Me Bodied”.

I’ve never seen so many “straight” men “Uh Oh Dance” more than the ladies. Hell I got knocked out the circle so some guy can twerk his ass up.

And another note…Wash your ass before you come to the club. Smelling like grilled onions and a Dock’s fishwich sandwich is never the hotness.

…It's always the musty ones who are the most active on the dance floor. Main ones wanting to dance and wave their arms around like they don’t know they stank.

Better yet...Don’t get your drunk, sweaty, musty ass on the dance floor knowing you’re not Sure. Put those fucking arms down.

I fucked around and walked in a mass of sweating, writhing bodies trying to knock my way to the stairs so we can go…damn near passed out from the smell.

Never mind I almost got trampled when there was bottlenecking at the steps as people pushed/pulled to get up/down the stairs.

…And since I’m that rude bitch in the club who will push you aside when I think you’re taking too long to move out of my way, I was pushing my way through the crowd. I’m usually the “leader” in the girl train when we’re trying to move somewhere in the club.

I’m straight throwing bows and knocking folks to the side because sometimes the polite “excuse me” just doesn’t work.

Although this one girl wanted to pop her lips when I knocked her ass aside since she wanted to hesitate on moving and I had to ask her did she want an ass whooping for the ’08.

About 10 people must have stepped on my already throbbing toes, toes that were begging for mercy, and this guy’s entire drink was dumped down the front of my shirt when he was pushed and the cup was knocked out of his hand.

So I was tired, my feet were hurting and I was wet from the alcohol.
…and I smelled like I dove head first into the Bacardi bottle.

Then my people got lost in the crowd so I had to wait for them…and oh yeah these big ass dudes decided to start the ’08 off right by getting into a fist fight right in front of me.
…Thankfully I was repaid for getting the hell out of the way by getting splashed with a daiquiri.

We finally stumbled out the club where every 10 feet we were approached by bums begging for money.

Ummm…did we not just leave the club? Fuck out here, we spent our money on booze.
I mean the homeless here are far more polite *at least the ones I’ve ran across* than the ones in Chicago but damn, don’t assume I have spare money lying around just because I just left the club.

I know some want to catch the drunk folk slipping and either rob them or get more than a buck or two out of them while they’re in their drunken state…but trust I’m never that drunk.

I finally made it home and threw my ass into the bed. I actually wore socks to bed because my feet were hurting just that bad.

I’m so glad I didn’t have to work New Years.

But my ’08 wasn’t a bust. I brought in the New Year sober and had a great time.

…Oh and one of my friends is cheating on her husband…and she wants a divorce.

See? Always a confessional.

Happy New Years!!