Man That's That Bull......

I wish I could say I had stories about my trip to Atlanta.

However I spent less than 24 hours in Atlanta.

Not to mention my bank account is now about $600 leaner.

NONE of them broads came to Atlanta- All but one on some bullshit excuse.

So you know I was hotter than fish grease.

And people wonder why I am extra selective on whom I go out of town with.

Spoke to my best friend (the birthday girl- the whole reason we were going to Atlanta) on Wednesday and Thursday morning- all was a go. Spoke to my other girl on Wednesday- shit was a go.

Called before I left the airport- shit was still a go. My girl was at work and they were getting on the road that night

(Never mind that when I purchased my plane ticket and reserved the hotel room everything said arrival THURSDAY and then I was hit with the “Well we’re going to make it a road trip and drive” with arrival time Friday but whatever)

Cheap bitches. I should’ve known some bullshit was going to go down- who knowingly likes to be on the road 8-10 hours?

After the flight from hell (Air Tran will never get another dime of my $$)

I mean I got to the airport NO ONE is at any of the counters. I was already annoyed because I tried to check in the day before and that morning and I kept getting error messages- but damn, no one is at counter?

Then the $15 bag fee *sigh* that’s that bullshit for real

Then there was Bitchy McBitchy and her mom (I guess it was her moms) who COMPLAINED from start to finish. Heifer had the nerve to cop an attitude because she had to check her FULL SIZE luggage “carry on”….I mean seriously- she knew DAMN WELL that big ass suitcase was not fitting under the seat OR the overhead compartment

Bitch stop playing

So to tune out the nagging, I put my headphones and snuggled under my Hello Kitty blanket *shut up*

I wake up- why is this broad under MY fucking blanket?!

I mean mad comfortable and shit then smiling at me and shit- Naw hoe I don’t play with my Hello Kitty shit. Shit pay about $100 for that lice infested brillo pad they call a blanket.

Then because we got to Atlanta extra early- we had to circle the airport. I swear we flew to Florida and back.

Turn on my phone- I got like a 90 page text message story.

What had happened was…

Story of my motherfucking life.

So originally it was six of us- me, Birthday Girl, Best Friend #2, Best Friend #2’s sister, Birthday Girl’s cousin, and Birthday Girl’s friend.

Oh…Birthday Girl’s friend decides she want to get another tattoo- yeah, another motherfucking tattoo- before she leaves for Atlanta on her other leg. Ohhhhh the tattoo artist goes too deep or some shit and fucks her entire leg up. She can’t walk- so she’s out.

We’re down to five people.

Then ohhhh Best Friend #2 and her sister just “remember” they have to attend a funeral Friday.

Now keep in mind I spoke to her on Wednesday. NO mention of any death. Birthday Girl spoke to her Monday, Tuesday AND Wednesday- no mention of a funeral. Birthday Girl calls her to let her know she’s picking them up soon- and NOW all of a sudden there’s a funeral to attend.

Now come on now- I don’t know ANY black funeral where someone is buried the same week he or she dies.

So I’m like, “Who is this person? What are they, Muslim?”

Like who just “remembers” they have to attend a funeral? Clearly you are not close to that individual if you weren’t aware he or she died in the first place but whatever.

So by then Birthday Girl is pissed (and I was extremely pissed as I’ve heard the story an hour later)
Best Friend #2 is like “well the funeral starts at 12, the repast is over by maybe 6, oh and I have to get my hair done, so maybe we can leave Friday night”

Hellllssss toooo the naw

What sense does that make?

So Birthday Girl is extremely pissed because it was Best Friend #2’s idea to drive in the 1st place! Birthday Girl wanted to catch a flight- like me, we are NOT road trippers- but she was convinced to take a chance and take this road trip.

So Birthday Girl is like well fuck yall we’re leaving tonight

So six people are now down to 3 people- me, Birthday Girl, and her cousin.

Meanwhile I am in Atlanta fuming.

Its one thing that I’m in Atlanta a full day before everyone else but I see right now I’m going to have to head back to DC.

Although my other best friend lives in Atlanta, our wires got crossed, and he thought we were coming next week (now this week) so he planned on going back to Chicago the same weekend I was in Atlanta

(Although like a real friend he offered to cancel his flight and remain in Atlanta)

So by this time I’m at Gladys Knight’s joint with my best friend and his friends- they’re listening to me Jap out on the phone- I’m like call me when you hear from your cousin.

Birthday Girl- like me- is not a night time driver. In addition, as pissed as I am, I did not want her on the road, alone, trying to drive to Atlanta.

So after eating, I went to my hotel (oh the Ritz by the way- an indulgence for the best friend- um yeah but don’t think I paid retail- DISCOUNT baby!)

Flawless property. I was fawned over so much it was embarrassing.

I’m in the room bitching to Hubby, bitching to my other best friends, and more importantly calling the suspect broads I call friends (no answers from them- FYI its Thursday- I haven’t heard from them since last week)

Birthday Girl called.

Ohhhhh well her cousin juuuussst remembered she had to pay her gas bill otherwise it was going to get cut off so she can’t go.

Right- the ol’ “my utility bill is overdue” excuse. Last time I checked you’d have to be behind quite a few months in order to get service disconnection. In addition- how early do you get your gas bill?

Right- that bullshit.

So my planned trip of debauchery and sexual harassment collapsed right before my eyes.

I’m like this is some bullshit and don’t ever EVER ask me to go out of town with any of yall for any reason- that $ (meaning the original flight and the stay at the hotel) could have been used for another trip.

Hell I could’ve stayed at the Courtyard for about $30 with my discount!

So in the morning I checked out and went back to the airport.

A return flight cost me an additional $213- pretty much the price I originally paid for the round trip flight.

Plus that damn $15 bag fee.

Then every time I turned around some dude was all up in my face (I mean seriously- do all the straight men in Atlanta work at the Airport?) and checking out my ass.

I mean I was wearing my uniform of a t shirt and leggings- but come on now?

The chick who served me my Midnight Train to Georgia had a bigger ass than me

(Then again she was from the Chi as well...lol…Midwestern Chicks have ass too you know)

Asking me if my ass was real? Do I get injections? Do I take my clothes for money (only when times are hard lol)…I mean really- dude can you please check my boarding pass so I can go through security?

Offering to buy me Popeye’s and shit (I won’t lie- I was tempted- fuck what you heard- I love Popeye’s biscuits)

Trying to take pictures on the sneak tip (FYI- turn the fucking sound off the next time- jerk face)

So I was back in DC less than 24 hours after I left that bitch.

Hot and annoyed.

Left one oven (Atlanta- boy I don’t see how people can do it- almost sweated my damn perm out) for another oven.

So I don’t have any real pictures of Atlanta

*sigh*

Take 2 of Atlanta will hopefully happen by the end of the summer.

Some straight bullshit.

ATL Shawty

Ok so I meant to write on Monday as promised but see what had happened was…..

Now I did have a quite hilarious story but between completing a three slide power point on the ethics of online advertising *fail* and straight clowning on the Vh1 Honors (if that’s what they want to call that epic fail of an award show) via G-Chat with my best friend- who had me in tears from laughing so hard.

I swear I was going to die laughing like the Toon Patrol from “Who Framed Roger Rabbit”?

Speaking of which…ummmm…yeah since I know you’re reading this…you know you’re mopping floors on the 8th circle of hell for talking about Fresh Kid Ice’s arm…and my husband is washing the windows.

But anyway- thanks to those two- the story escaped my thoughts. Well not the story but of course the way I wanted to tell it.

So this weekend my best friends and I are going to Atlanta to celebrate my best friend’s 29th Birthday.

(For the record- I’m now 27- just gotta throw that disclaimer in lol)

Why Atlanta? No clue. But Atlanta was the spot picked this year (last year was New York).

Now my friends are convinced that since Atlanta is the “spot” (allegedly) we’re going to run into a slew of celebrities.

Namely T.I.

My crush of yester-yesteryear.

*sigh* Outside of Prince, he was like the only tiny guy that could get it. And by get it, I mean he could get it with about 4 condoms on and a written contract promising he won’t try to kiss me or anything- I mean cute or not that herpes thing going on around the mouth is really not the business.

I’d hate to have to sue *lol*

Like this guy this weekend. All up in my damn face with a cold sore on the corner of his mouth. Trying to tuck his lip like I can’t see that shit. Talking about “lemme buy you a drink”. How about you let me buy you some Abreva? And shouldn’t you be quarantined or something? Trolling for booty and the lips are looking like the Appalachian Mountains.
*shudders* Cold Sores skeeves me out.

My girl is convinced that we’re going to run into TI out and about (and by run in that probably means low-key stalking) and it’s going to be a wrap.

Had to point out that from what I read on my gossip blogs sites Tiny (bless her heart because the face is just not it anymore) is willing to do anything, and I mean anything *wiggles eyebrows* to keep her man.

I was like face it G, she’s on some other level hoe shit while you’re just on the basic hoe shit.

Just get an autograph and keep it moving.

Of course I will have my trust camera along to record all types of fuckery that is bound to happen. It’s been months since I’ve seen my girls and since I’m the only one that’s married- I have to be able to prove that I can “hang” past 11pm. Shit a sista get sleepy lol

I was damn near going to sleep in the club last Friday- although that was more intoxicated sleep than tired sleep. I had entirely too much Sweet Tea Vodka before leaving and needless to say I was 3 sheets to the wind by the time we darkened the club’s doors. Already had a bouncer side eyeing me- however that was from a previous club incident and he had to throw my friend and I out the club because we (and by we I mean she, I turned my head to talk to someone I knew, next thing you know I was getting dragged out) got into in with the girl who takes money at the door.

Don’t get it twisted- I can still get low wit it- I mean I need help getting off the floor afterwards- but I can still drop it with the best of them. Although I have a feeling the music in Atlanta is going to take me back to 2003-2004 when “crunk” was the shit.


While they plan on spending time trolling for men, I’ll be looking for a shopping buddy

I mean the men in Atlanta do have a nice shoe game *giggles*

I know I know

I know I'm like that suspect dude that you random meet, get real real cool with, I mean daily conversations, dinner, drinks, get you comfortable enough to give up the Hello Kitty panties after a game of drunken Twister *don't judge*...and then begin playing Jedi mind tricks...pulling disappearing acts and ish...

I think my suspect ass Muse just sent me a text message talking about "What's Up" although we haven't spoken in about two months

I'll be back to blogging on Monday

Although I'm not sure what I want to talk about- this past drunken weekend, my recent trip to LA, work, married life or sex

Or a combination of all of them...

Facebook is the devil

Ok well not really

but close

One thing that amuses me about Facebook is the pure randomness

I'll admit that I am a Facebook junkie

I'm on it all day every day...mostly snooping and lurking

Oh yes, I'll hit up a photo album in a heartbeat.

Hell I'll even ask to be your friend just so I can look into your album

But I'm not on the catty "oh she/he has gotten fat/have seven kids/ugly significant other/oh's he/she is gay now/what a bad wardrobe" shit.

Sure it's always nice to see that hot nigga that paid me not a bit of attention in high school looking like Tyrone Biggums or the broad that swiped one of my boyfriends from me looking nice and busted...however I'm just nosy.

And I do have my limits...I won't request to be your friend when I KNOW we've had beef.

I just make other people request to be your friend *lol*

Don't judge me *lol*

And trust I know I'm not the only guilty party...as noted via FB messages and random friend requests. I just love the guys who like to send request just so they can ask if I have a man. Or because they've seen the profile picture and thinks it gets better.

One had the nerve to cop an attitude because I am married.

*shrug* If you weren't so thirsty, you'd see my husband in 95% of my pictures

But anyway....

I mean my claim to fame is that I at least know 95% of the people that are my friends on facebook in some shape or form. I've found old friends from elementary school, high school, and of course college. I have even found a few people I've grown up with and just lost touch over the years.

Low key- I've found a few exes. I'm 99% sure there's more out there but thanks to the name change, I haven't had many requests. So far only one...and I finally had to send him a message after blocking his request about 20 times to inform him not only are we NOT friends in real life, he's for damn sure not my friend via the internet.

And I would NEVER play myself by asking to be an ex's friend.

News flash: If you send a friend request and it is not accepted...give it up. Sending constant requests will not make me want to be your friend.

I admit I am always super geeked when I find people. Like super, super happy. I even found my best friend from the 6th-10th grade on facebook. It was like old times...

So sue me, I'm a lame

The 5%....eh that was during my "accept anyone who sends me a request* days. And one of these days I will get around to deleting them.

I mean I have high schoolers from other states as a facebook friend. I have "friends" that I only know through a mutual friend. I mean really now? I wonder what the hell I was smoking besides turkey.

I won't trip on how one b*tch had the nerve to de-friend me before I could de-friend her only because I sent her a message about her public bullying of some other random girl on FB. I was trying to be the adult and state that it was immature to have the girl's picture on FB with lil dicks painted all around her mouth....and the heifer promptly de-friended me.

Hmpf...Now I was going to send the heifer a nasty note...however I don't e-beef.

Outside of pure comedy (I mean I can't always get my shits and giggle from Craigslist "Casual Encounters" or "Missed Connections") I can learn everything that I want to about people from status messages.

If I want to get my daily church on...I look to my Jesus freak friends who can't resist placing the entire bible in their status message on a daily basis
...I believe in God, don't get it twisted, but ummmmm yeah...some people go a little bit overboard proving how much a Christian they are
....and it's also hard to take you seriously when you post a bible quote...then upload an album of you swinging from a pole on Saturday

Just Saying....

If I want to know all about your relationship status...everything from your boyfriend/girlfriend is trifling yet again for reason XYZ to "oh woe is me there isn't a man/woman out there that really "gets" me....to how many months your baby daddy is behind on child support and how you hate him (only to post a status professing your love three days later)...I can read about all of that
...And lemme tell you...there are a LOT of people on FB with FUCKED up relationship
...But these are the same people who are quick to cop an attitude when you post a reply...

I can scan a status and learn a little too much about people...it's crazy.

It's like "dude we had one class together freshman year...I can really do without learning you havent had a bowel movement in three days and should you go to the doctor"

Or what does it mean when "pus comes out" *shudder*

All of this of course further feeding my addiction to FB.

I mean now I have to def. scan facebook because there is a high school war of the world going on with picture and I'll be damned if some of my old high school pictures make their way to the internet.

I shudder to think of my pictures with the fly-a-way hair, baggy clothes, and thick glasses making it's way to the net.

I already had to notify family members that they will be instantly banned if they tag me to any old pictures that do not have my prior approval.

Hell I got a reputation to protect on facebook. Shit as much as I roast people on their wall or album?!

Nah, not the kid. I am not going out like that.

I've already began limiting my family's friendship on FB. Snitching and shit on me. My moms don't even have a facebook but knows about every single picture in my albums since I have snitching ass cousins.

Who tried to block me from their albums but they got the personal phone call curse out *side out* There will be no booty tooting and middle fingers pics on the internet.

Funny enough my father is on facebook. We're currently beefing because I REFUSE to be friend on facebook. Let him request my husband. As I had to quite rudely tell him, if we're not "friends" in real life, you're not my friend on the internet.

I don't need him all up in album, writing lame shit like "I love you princess" on my wall...or acting surprised that I am 26 going on 27 in May. Like *gasp* I wear low cut shirts! And short skirts!

And I partake in the alcoholic beverages.

He is clueless about me in real life so he can further remain clueless on the internet.

This coming from a man who thinks I don't drink *LMAO*

I remember at the wedding he was bragging on how my husband and I don't drink. Which was comedic gold for our friends.

Umm maybe because the reason we weren't drinking was because we were still drunk from the booze we consumed on Friday (and we got married on a Sunday). We definately are a match made in heaven as we both passed the fuck out at our respective parties.

In fact.... *looks at time*

Time for me to get back on FB right now...

Happy Valentine's Day

A commercial holiday nonetheless but still....

Happy Valentine's Day!!!

And speaking of work:

Job from hell is now a distant and unpleasant memory...last day was Friday...and I did not take a poo on evil, hating ass heifer desk.

I did however track snow into her office...HA!

I'm back at the hotel as an accountant now thanks to a hook-up from my previous manager.

So I guess I'm officially back in the building....and in charge of money!!!

Secret Confession of the Week

While it's no surprise that I am NOT a cry baby...No emotional female over here but

I cry every time I watch "Schindler's List"

And not just a few tears here and there

I cry throughout the whole movie. It's one of the few adult movies that will make me sob like a baby.

It took me two weeks to make it through the film. I kept stopping it because I was crying too hard to see most of the scenes

It's one of my favorite movies...and I watch it in secret just so people will not see me cry.

I also watch it only at night when my husband is asleep so he doesn't hear me cry.

Although he knows the movie makes me cry and ask why do I torture myself...

...but don't get it twisted, b*tch will still throat chop a negro.....

Secret Confession of the Week...

Ok so I used to stuff my bra...like I've recently stopped like four years ago *lol*


And no wearing a padded bra didn't have the same effect. Granted I'm not well endowed in the cleavage area but why do bra manufacturers think I want a bra that's filled with nothing but cotton?

However Victoria's Secret *shad up Paj* that I will endorse more than my endorsement of a pizza puff with fries from Nick's on 79th & Ashland in Chicago.

OMG the Bombshell bra from VS is like my new obsession. It REALLLLLLLYYY does increase your cup by two sizes!

I've gotten so vain that I refuse to wear my other bras outside. I mean I have real cleavage! And not the type that I have to press my arms against the side of my chest to push them out either

Where the hell was this bra during 6th period lunch Junior year of high school when I spilled juice all over myself and revealed that I was a fraud?!