Yum!

reggie bush + david beckham = yummy!

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Random Thoughts and Observations

Why did the man in the hoover-round laugh at me because I tripped? That's just not right, the non walking should not be able to make fun of the walking impaired.

And for that matter, why is it that I trip more when I have on flats, then when I have on 4 inch heels?

And what the hell is up with young Asian women not covering their mouths when they yawn or cough? Didn't learn any damn thing from SARS? (and its young hip looking ones too - though there sure as hell ain't nothing cool about showing all of the A train your lack of tonsils)

And why do I love black men with British accents - well actually I love any man with a British, Scottish, Irish (though they are hell to understand) or Australian accent. And anyone with a french accent, male or female doesn't matter, say my name with a french accent and I sigh (le *sigh*)

Speaking black men with British accents, I was in the magazine section of Barnes and Nobles and saw a magazine with

on the cover. Lewis Hamilton Formula 1 racer and my newest crush. Yummy in a straight laced, slightly preppy but drives really really fast kind of way. Plus anyone that knows me, knows I have a thing for little men and he's 5'7". Now lets just hope he's got a thing for skinny, snarky, bubble butt black beauties from Bed Stuy.

And if any ladies (or gay men for that matter) are in need of a pick me up in midtown, head over to the Abercrombie and Fitch store on 5th and 56th Street. The door boys are definitely worth a gander or two. Just don't stop in the middle of the sidewalk and gawk! (Shit I hate it when tourist do that crap, like they never seen a fucking building before "Look Ma, it's a building" "I see Pa, and it look lik dey gots real glass in the winder frames.") One day they had a gorgeous chocolaty black boy (you know the kind where you just want to lick him to see if he taste as good as he looks?) and a gorgeous blue eyed blond boy - what a beautiful contrast. Then they have the tall Asian boy, the pretty hispanic, its like a UN for mancandy. The ultimate destination for all you boytoy needs!

(the Sophie's Cuban around the corner is a great cheap place to get your strength up before hand or for a nice cool lemonade after)

And while I'm on the subject of mancandy, page for page, month for month, GQ magazine has the best mancandy around. After all, its where I got this

and on that lovely note, Have a great weekend!

and remember, it's all kicks and grins til somebody gets kicked in the balls!

Damn It!

Why did I just see these sunglasses (at a store that shall remain nameless cause I hope they are still there!) for $79! They were hella cute, but I wasn't sure and I was being rushed (don't you hate shopping with people that hate shopping?) so I passed them up and here there are on smartbargins. Damned shame!

Marc Jacobs Sunglasses

Ex Reflux Part Duex

It never ends! So this dude I used to deal with is good friends with a good friend of mine. So naturally I see him from time to time. But he cockblocks like a mutherfucker! "Yo, you need to take your hands off my wife." "I know she's not disrespecting me again with that corny nigger" Once he even told this guy that was trying to get my number "We're just going through some stuff right now. She's mad at me but she always forgives me."

Now I think that I should mention that we only dealt with each other for about 3 or 4 months top. (and I never claimed him!) And that was about 6 or more years ago. So, Presidents Day comes around and our mutual friend throws a bus ride to Atlantic City and I'm horny. Long story short we hook up for like 2 months. And the whole time, he's bitching about how I need to settle down, and he's gonna get me a ring. Honestly, after a while I started hearing "Whah whah whah whah whah" like on the Peanuts cartoons. That shit doesn't interest me. I OWN my home, I have a great job, and I'm way too selfish for kids right now.

So he stands me up one night. I call the next day and the negro sounds like he's sleeping off a hangover. So I tell him I'll call him back later, but in reality I'm done. Like I said, I am way to selfish to have kids. I don't want to have to tell you what you did wrong and it is not my job to keep you in check. You fuck up, thats on you. A week later (yes a whole f-ing week!) he starts leaving me messages. "So you're not going to call me anymore? What the hell is this?" "Where are you?" "I was in a car accident and I dont even get a fuck you?!" Actually he got the fuck you, it was just in my head.

When we finally speak, he's mad. Come to find out the night that he was supposed to take me to dinner, he went drinking with some people from his job (thats what he says, but our mutual friend slipped so I know thats not quite true) and got so drunk that he passed out and crashed his car. Well Boo Fucking Hoo! I'm sorry but I'll be damned if I feel sorry for someone who was driving drunk. Not to mention that if he had taken me to dinner like he was supposed to, he wouldn't have crashed his car! So we stopped seeing each other soon after when he stood me up again.

I believe my final message went something like "You know you get on my last fucking nerve. You're such a fuck up and I can't stand your trifling ass. Go dig a hole!" or something along those lines. Now flash forward to yesterday, I get a voicemail (not a phone call, the asshat must have replied to the last message I left) "Uh, hi, I was just calling to see how your doing. Call me when you get a chance" Yeah he should hold his breath for that. It's gonna happen right after I grow a dick and join Chippendales!

It's In The Hamster's Cage!

I swear Janet Evanovich is tryin to kill me! I'm thinking about suing for defamation of character and grievous bodily harm, cause I swear that white woman constantly has me making a fool of myself on the train. If I'm not laughing my ass off, or shaking like I'm having a seizure, I'm choking because of something outrageous that she had written. Specifically I'm talking about her Stephanie Plum series, and its latest offering Lean Mean Thirteen.

There was a point in my life when I used to only read Black authors. After years of private school and getting to read maybe one minority author a year, I decided that I was going to do a catching up. That all came to a screeching halt for two reasons.

1 - My Barnes and Nobles got rid of the African-American Literature section. Now fiction is broken down into, Literature, Romance, Science Fiction, and Mystery. So no more picking books by the cover.

2 - Zane I soooo want to give this woman (?) a thesaurus, an editor and a gift certificate for a creative writing class. Not to mention break the Cap Lock key off of her keyboard. What in the dumbed down, tacky, ghetto hell?! I simply cannot understand how this woman (?) sells books.

So, I started reading stuff by the debil aka the white man (I kid, I kid!) and Janet Evanovich has restored my faith that it's not just black folk that are crazy (although Lula's seem to got crazy on lock). And I swear I want a Ranger of my own (is it wrong that a character in a book makes me hot?) But seriously I give high praise to any author that can make me feel something and I will have the child of any author who can make me laugh out loud (Janet, call me ok?)

And with that I highly recommend that you read Lean Mean Thirteen, or any of the other books in the series (One for the Money, Two for the Dough, Three to Get Deadly, etc)

Rat Fight

I'm a New Yorker, born and raised. More specifically, I'm a Brooklynite, so it is pretty safe to say that I have seen my fair share of crazy things. Especially on the trains. I've seen business men shit on themselves. I've seen all kinds sex acts and just about any other form of lewd and lascivious behavior that you could possible imagine. Once this man had an enormous erection. I mean I've seen some pretty big ones, and even though disturbing it was damned impressive. I swear that at least 4 women couldn't take their eyes off of it. He was obviously embarrassed, he hid his face for most of the ride, and definitely uncomfortable, the only touching he did was an occasional adjustment. Or maybe he just didn't want his picture to end up on the news.

Then on the hygiene end, there was the man whose underarms smelled so bad, he knocked about 3 people out when he raised his arm to hold on the the bar. You always get the nose pickers, and for some reason they are usually older Asian men. And I'd never have to take the train again if I had a dollar for every time I had to tell someone to cover their mouths when yawning/sneezing/coughing. (And for some reason the yawning seems to be mostly younger hipper women, who obviously have no home training. Come on, do you really think that all of these people want to smell your rank morning breath or see what you ate for breakfast?)

But by far the most interesting thing that I've seen in a long time was a rat fight in the tracks at Rockaway Avenue station. Now any New Yorker worth their J Brand Jeans knows that a good way to tell if the train is coming (long before they started installing those alarms and probably more reliable) was to see if the rats were scurrying off the tracks. So last night I thought nothing when I saw 2 rats emerge and start sniffing around. Since the were scurrying away from the express tracks, I figured that an express was about to pass through. I noticed that one of the rats had a rather nasty burn on one of his back legs - no I'm not making that up, nor do I know why I noticed this - and was limping slightly, and thought to myself, "he better hustle if he doesn't want to get hit."

Then, as the train passes through the station, I hear what I swear is a rat scream. I look down and homerats are scrapping like their lives depend on it, and maybe it does. I enjoy a good fight of any kind, and this was my first rat fight so I was riveted. I gotta say that it was slightly more entertaining than the last Merryweather fight. One was seriously getting his ass kicked to the point where rather than continue to fight, he ran right under the train that was passing through the station. Now I wasn't at all sad to see a rat lose its life, but I did think "aw poor burned rat got his ass kicked royally!" But when I looked at the victor, it was my old buddy burned rat! He was a straight OG, not a limp at all during the fight so I was starting to think that maybe it wasn't a limp, maybe that's just his swagger!

Ex Reflux

I have a chronic case of ex reflux. Boyfriends, lovers, even friends, they all seem to come back. In some cases, it is definately my fault. I mean thats what I get for dealing with friends of family or friends of friends. I once dated my sisters best friend's brother and to this day I'm still not invited to things that he is invited to. It makes no sense to me since he is married with a kid and I'm still very much single. Or there is the friend from high school who moved to South America during college. She kept in touch initially, but within a year I stopped hearing from her. Then I started running into other people who knew her that would ask why I wasn't at the get together that she had when she was in town, or tell me that they just spoke to her. I wrote it off as a lost relationship. But then, a couple of months ago I get a phone call from a number that looks vaguely familiar.

Its my long lost buddy, and she's going on and on like we just spoke last month. She's back in town, working temp jobs and wants to know what I'm up to. At least that's what she said to me. Now call me snarky, but I'm pretty sure that the reason for the call is to see if I have any connections that she can use. I've been known to put friends on to jobs, housing, discount shopping, etc., even in high school and I'm sure she remembers this. But all I can think is that if we were really friends I would have spoken to her sometime within the last 7 years. And that last time I saw her, I wasn't working and she left town with out giving me back some cash that I lent her. Now I admit, I could have reached out to her, but why bother. I didn't miss her and to be honest our friendship was superficial to say the least. You know the race friends. The people that you form bonds with simply because they are one of the few other minorities present. Any other situation and you would have never ever spoken, but throw a bunch of semi-ignorant white folk in the mix and you've got instant bonding.

Then there is the guy that I was briefly seeing about 3 years ago. Nothing much ever came from it, maybe three dates at most, because he lived in New Jersey and I live in Brooklyn (do or die, never ran never will!) Oh he was nearly perfect, college education, owns his own business and home, only one child, and so much fun to play with. But that extra commute just to get some was not at all appealing. Plus he used to develop a stuttering problem whenever I asked him to pick me up. So I let it go, and he let it go, then about a month ago he calls me. Perfect timing too, because I just stopped seeing another ex, who I gave another chance to. The commute is still a bitch, as evidence by the fact that I still haven't seen him, but I'm thinking I might (key word being might) make more of an effort this time. But still can't figure out what possessed him to call me. And do I want to think about what he's been doing the last three years?

Then finally there is my ex-boyfriend from 9th grade. I hardly saw him at all during my last three years of high school and the 2 years I was away in college even though he lived 6 blocks away from me. Then I hear he moves to Miami and I'm running into him all over the place! He even ran into Hautechick in Miami once. She had no idea who he was, of course, her memory isn't the best, especially when it comes to my conquest. But him I actually don't mind running into. It's never awkward or uncomfortable, and I'd like to think that we've moved from being exes to being friends. He never gets mad that I haven't called him and I could care less if he doesn't call me, so it works. Especially since he doesn't leave a bad taste in my mouth