Abercrombie & Fitch

720 Fifth Avenue

I may have mentioned that one of my favorite pick me ups, is going to get Cuban food from Sophie's and walking past Abercrombie & Fitch so I can see the door boys. I think I may even start posting pictures of my little lovelies. For the most part, any type of fit man you could want can be found standing by the doors of Abercrombie. (their website refers to them as models, but they will forever be door boys in my mind. sort of the urban version of a pool boy) black, white, latino, asian (a slight case of yellow fever seems to run in the family), and all sorts of delicious looking mixes. Now, just past the door boys, there is the half dressed boys with the great chest. Yesterdays white boy even had one of my straight male co-workers doing a double take. His body was SICK, with hipbones delineating a beautifully cut stomach and not too big pecs...

(I'll be back with you in a moment, after my imagination runs it's course. Le sigh!)

So anyway, today's guy I should have loved too, same sick body and he was a beautiful chocolaty brown. What turned me off, dude kept scratching! Listen up sweetheart, I want my eye candy clean! So cut out the scratching or go get a flea dip!

Casanegra

by Blair Underwood with Tananarive Due and Steven Barnes

Ok, so I actually just started reading this book this morning. I wasn't sure about buying a book written by a man that I commonly refer to as Blair with no Underwear. But Ms. Due and Mr. Barnes have written some of my favorite books, The Living Blood, My Soul to Keep and Between by Due and Charisma and Blood Brothers by Barnes - they mostly write Science Fiction from an African American perspective. Sooooo, I'm on the train reading and listening to International Players Anthem (I think the music helps me to keep time when reading, a friend of mine once asked how I was able to tap my foot to a beat and read at the same time, what can I say I'm a multitasker. Bet I'd be great on the drums!) and then I read this,

Guys, let me school you on head: Do not treat a clitoris like someone would treat your penis. It's the most sensitive place on a woman - probably on the human body, period - and it doesn't need yanking or bullying. It's a snail in a shell that need a little coaxing to swell and stick its head out. There is no end to its shudders, given the right tending. I've turned women on until they can't walk right, as if they're carrying a grapefruit between their legs. Unlocking a woman's passion is like cracking a safe. When I feel that responsiveness budding - when her hips begin to buck and my chin is drenched - I don't let it go. I go back to the same spots, again and again.

Weeeeellll....

(I let you know how the rest of it is...)

Cartoons and Couture!

Really does it get any better than that?

http://www.notcot.com/archives/2007/07/simpsons_coutur.php#more

thanks Hautechick!

Hey Mala!

http://malamag.com

Hey Danae!

I'm tagging you both by the way! So spill the beans...

(Mala's already been tagged so find out some tidbits at http://malamag.com/mala/node/222 and so has Danae, (twice actually) http://danae1.wordpress.com/2007/07/25/tag-youre-it/)

Hey Seattle Slim!

Hey Afro Jamaicano!

see! post a comment get a shout out!

Thanks for stopping by and laughing at me! (Only in the blog world does that sentence make sense...)

Hope...

My boss is currently sailing off the coast of Italy (lucky bastard) so I take this time to wander aimlessly around midtown in search of the perfect lunch. One such trek took me to Two Boots in Grand Central Station, but that's not the point. The point is I was on the escalator behind these three young men of color. Two of them had on shorts and shower shoes and socks and one of them had on a tee shirt (not white) and some matching sneaks. And before I even tuned in to the conversation they were having, I was kind of thinking that he needs to teach the other two how to dress.

So then I start eavesdropping and I hear one of the shower shoe dudes going off. "These motherfucker's don't know me! I'll fuck somebody up for disrespecting me. Shit!" And the young sensitive thug says, "Man, how the hell are you going to talk about respect, when you just disrespected everyone here that has to listen to you talk that bullshit. Man you are so ghetto, and that's not cool."

I was so impressed that I wanted to give the kid a $20...

Things I Hate...

Now some of these things I wish I didn't hate but alas...

(1) Boy Shorts - beginning of the day, they are the most comfortable thing in the world, but by the end of the day I'm seriously considering throwing them in the trash and going home commando. That front wedgie action on top of the regular wedgie is more than my sanity can bear!

(2) Peep Toe Heels - ok these might be a little worse than the Boy Shorts, because almost immediately I feel like someone is trying to amputate my big toe. And lets not talk about my pinky toe that always feels like its dying of heat stroke because it doesn't have access to the peep. Worse part of it is I think they are incredibly sexy! (A white fitted button down, a black pencil skirt, and a pair of leopard print peep toes is my "I wanna feel sexy and get complimented" outfit. Yes, I do own some of them, but I always bring sneakers of flip flops with me) And this weekend I was in DSW and came across a pair of Pony Hair Leopard Print Platform Peep Toe Pumps - I know that sounds like alot but they were so gorgeous, and they HURT LIKE HELL! One minute on a carpeted floor and I was almost crying.

(3) Victoria's Secret - I used to not hate them, but sometime during the early 2000's (that sounds funny doesn't it?) their bras stopped fitting me. Now I will admit, I'm only a 32B on a swollen day, but the salespeople somehow always make me feel like a flat chested little boy! Once I broke the embargo against buying bras from their snooty sales people only to have to return the thing because it didn't fit. I swear at least 5 people made me explain in detail that the bra was too big (as if I was not embarrassed enough after the first 3, by 4 and 5 there was a crowd! One simpering idiot had the nerve to ask me "Are you sure it's too big?") then they wanted to know if I wanted to exchange it, Shit nah, I just wanted out of that hell hole. (I do however luv the PINK sweatpants and pj bottoms)

(4) The snotty African girl at the MAC counter in Bloomingdales - I stopped buying MAC from Bloomies about 2 years ago because of this heifer, so I don't even know if she is still there. You ask her a question and she says dumb shit like "Ok, if you want too" while looking at you like your stupid. Or my favorite, she'll be standing there speaking French to the little Creole chick while 18 people are waiting for help then say "Well I didn't see you." All the while the nice white girl is helping like 9 people. I was so glad to see a truly brown girl at the MAC counter, but she is the most pretentious lazy bitch I have met in a long time. I even went so far as to call the manager and complain after she rolled her eyes at me. This was after standing by the mascara for 5 minutes, then going to the cash register to get some help and she's going to say to me "You're only supposed to be waiting here if you are ready to pay." Meanwhile all the help (except for that nice white girl) is standing behind the register. Now don't get me wrong, are some helpful people there besides the white girl. There used to be a great Curvy Light-skinned girl, a very helpful and funny gay guy, and an older browner woman that were always helpful and friendly. Lord only knows, what happened to them

(5) Settling Down - I don't want to settle and I don't think anyone should. When/If I get married, I want to feel like the luckiest woman in the world. I want to be able to wonder, what did I do to deserve someone so great. Fuck a settle, I want better!

(6) Friends With Benefits - So you want someone you can chill with who also puts out? ISN'T THAT CALLED A GIRLFRIEND?!? I swear if you are old enough to be fucking, your old enough to be honest about what you want. You just want ass? Good, so do I. Let's not beat around the bush. And don't get mad if I only call your ass for the D.I., remember you are not my man!

(7) Punk ass men who tell me that I am not the man in this relationship - well momofoko one of us has to be! (and who said it was a relationship, I think I told you before that I just wanted some ass!) And it's not even that I want to be the man, but if we are not equal (and that fact that you are always at my place and we never go to yours means we are not equal)then someone has to be in charge and I vote for me.

Mr. Pooper

That's my current nickname for my dog, Duke, a Belgian shepherd mix. He pretty much looks like a long haired German Shepherd. But occasionally I do get "Ghetto Lassie" comments.

Here he is dressed as Andre 3000 (thanks Hautechick!) He is totally a spoiled brat, and only half way trained, but I wouldn't have him any other way. (I mean come on, how can I be mad at him when I'm basically an untamed spoiled brat myself?!) I have a million Duke stories. There was the time that I was walking him at around 11 pm, totally oblivious, because really who would be dumb enough to mess with a 120 pound dog, even if a 112 pound woman is walking him? Apparently there are people dumb enough and one of them happened to be following me that night. I started freaking out a little bit. Not really scared for myself, more scared that Duke might tear his ass up and get taken away from me. You see, Duke was abused, and for about the first 4 months that I had him, he hated men in general, and addicts specifically. He would go ape shit crazy and attack. Once my brother in law had to throw a box on him to keep Duke from trying to bite off something very important to my sister.

So I was very happy (and quite impressed) when Duke stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, turned around and gave the dude following me his impression of a hound from hell. All raised hair, teeth baring, bass growling, terror dog! (It was so cool! Especially considering that when he wasn't trying to neuter my brother in law, he was busy pissing on my floor in fright. And who knew that crackheads could move that fast.) Then there were those nights that he insisted I let him out, only to follow him and find him (1) tearing someones jeans and they scrambled over my fence (dumbass #1 was trying to steal a bike that was in the yard, how he was going to get it over the 6' fence I still haven't figured out) and (2) have some dude pinned to the wall (dumbass #2's girl threw his keys into my yard and rather than ring the bell, he thought he would get them himself.) And my personal favorite, the time he humped the dude I was seeing. The only time that he has ever tried to hump a male (females your at your own risk, he likes the ladies) and dude didn't even realize what was going on. It was kind of like Duke was trying to tell me that homeboy was a bitch, of course I didn't figure that out until later...

My Tags...

Alot of the people I want to know about have already been tagged,

http://blacksupermodel.blogspot.com/

http://www.hipcandy.blogspot.com/

http://www.fashionnette-work.blogspot.com/

and Hautechick is my sister (you should check out her blogs if your into lingerie http://www.theskivvy.com/ or shoes http://scarpediem.blogspot.com/ even though she hasn't been updating Scarpe, which means shoe in italian) so I pretty much know about her so...

SeattleSlim - Love your comments on bossip and your blog so guess what love, you are it!

http://thebeatniks.blogspot.com/

Tag Your It!

So I've been tagged - how cool. So now whoever else is out there beside Chic Noir, gets to learn 8 things about me (you lucky bastards!) Then I pick 8 bloggers that I would like to know more about. So here it goes

1 I don't have cable. In fact, I've never had cable! And I keep saying that I'm going to get it but then my tv died, yada, yada, yada, and I still don't have cable (or a tv for that matter!) A guy I'm seeing (and by seeing, I mean I haven't silenced his ringer as of yet) told me that I should never tell people that. (you can see how well I listen) So I read alot. Mostly science fiction (I love Octavia Butler (RIP) and I don't like Samuel Delany) with some romance (I never saw the word turgid used so much (Swollen or distended, as from a fluid; bloated) as I have since I started reading romance, usually in reference to someones nipples) and some non-fiction thrown in (that's how I learned to knit and do bead work)

2 My dog weighs more than I do! Even though he still tries to sit in my lap, and seems to think that sticking his head under the bed means he's hidden. He is a rescue/shelter dog, and I highly recommend that if your considering getting a pet, you get one from a shelter. A freaking awesome site that constantly has me wishing that I had more time for another pet is http://www.petfinder.org where you can find animals for adoption from all over the country. He is the greatest thing on 4 legs in my opinion, even when he is shaking his head no at me (he hates water and trying to get him outside in the rain is like a comedy routine - me standing out in the rain soaking wet and pulling on his leash while he stands inside shaking his head. Bath time is pure tragedy)

3 I'm a recovering tomboy. I've always played with the boys, both literally and figuratively! And I was a three sport all-star/captain in high school (basketball, volleyball, and softball) Now the most active thing I do is the above-mentioned tugs of war with my dog! The upside is that I'm completely comfortable around guys. The downside is that I get slightly uncomfortable around a whole bunch of women. One of my best friends is a white boy that I met in 7th grade - hey Bubba! (he actually hates when I call him that!)

4 I love to eat, but I have some weird food issues. I'm allergic to fish, but I can have shellfish (I luuuuv king crab legs - which were $7.99/lbs last time I went to Costco!) I can eat peanuts, but most other nuts cause me to break out. Take the most common food allergies, and flip them and you get me. I also LOATHE eggs(I mean I really really really really really hate them!) Nasty little protein prisons! I hate the way they taste, the way they look, the way they smell, I even hate the way the eggshells feel. I haven't eaten anything that could remotely be taken for an egg since I was 7 and my dad thought I might like my scrambled eggs better if he crumbled up some saltine crackers in them. Obviously that didn't work.

5 I love Coach! (I'm even a preferred customer - if you buy over a certain amount you receive 25% off coupons about twice a year) This is my latest baby http://www.coach.com/content/product.aspx?product_no=9248&category_id=904 . I have it in Camel and wear pretty much everyday. I also get alot of Coach from Off Fifth, the Saks Fifth Avenue Outlet. They have these amazing sales where everything in the store will be buy one get one half off, including all the handbags. I even have Coach Wellies with a matching umbrella. I've been lusting after this though http://www.coach.com/content/product.aspx?product_no=9709&category_id=788 and pretty much all of the Legacy line. I also have a Legacy Turnlock Shoulder bag, that doesn't seem to be on the site anymore. I'd also love a pair of the boots, but doubt I'll buy them since all of the Coach shoes that I have hurt in someway or another.

6 My hair has been natural for most of my life. I'm currently sporting locks (does anybody out there have any locticians that they would recommend in the NYC area?) I had a relaxer for about 4 years (end of high school beginning of college) until I finally got hot one summer and chopped it all off. I actually went to a barber shop around the corner from where I lived and dude just kept asking me "Are you sure?" Alot of the guys in the shop were also looking at me like I'd grown a dick in the middle of my forehead, but I loved it. Especially when it was cut really close to my head and ginger colored. I also loved my afro, but got tired of everyone wanting to touch it. And by the by, to all the dudes who used to practically ignore me cause when we first were introduced I had almost no hair, but now all of sudden think I'm beautiful when the only thing that has changed is that I have shoulder length locks - Dig a hole, you wack ass momofokos!

7 I'm an executive assistant (aka - high priced concierge) and I cannot stand it when people ask me what I plan on doing with my life, or when I plan on going back to school. Like I don't have a real job, or like my job is something that I should be embarrassed of. Shit, I got the college degree, I own my home, I make enough to keep me in Coach bags and the dog full of Benefuls, and I really enjoy my job. No, I'm not saving the world. But to be honest, I tried that. I've had a seat on the Board of Directors of a Community Development Corp. in Brooklyn, done extensive internships with others and you know what I found out? They pretty much a bunch of lazy asses! I was the youngest on the Board and quite often I would be one of three people who showed up to do more than bitch. And that internship, where they were supposed to be building quality low and middle income housing? They built pieces of crap, and don't really care too much about the people who live there beyond collecting rents and getting government subsidies/grants.

8 I've never dated a white guy. I think Bubba may have ruined me for all others! It's never been romantic between us, but he was still the first white boy that I ever had a crush on. (By the way, the crush lasted only until he got me detention for talking in class!)

And yes eventually I will get around to making the site look a little better, and add links and such...

Hey Chic Noir!

thanks for reading my blog!

and to anyone else out there (hey post a comment get a shout out!)

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood...

As a little kid, I was only allowed to watch a couple of things on tv. Anything from Jim Henson (Fraggle Rock, The Muppet Show, and especially Sesame Street), anything cultural (I know that somewhere in my family's stuff there is a Beta Max tape of Alvin Ailey performing Firebird with Judith Jameson dancing the lead), Mister Rogers, Electric Company, basically anything that came on Channel 13. So from time to time, you will catch me quoting Bert and Ernie (does anyone else remember Ernie and the Magic Cookie? now that was an album!), or Big Bird or Fozzy, or Miss Piggy...

Anywho, did anyone beside myself and Hautechick notice the bounty of beautiful black men that were outside yesterday? I mean it was a virtual cornucopia of goodies out there ladies. I keep saying that I need to start carrying a digital camera with me, but I have the feeling that would probably lead to trouble (*tic)

So, full on eye candy I made my way home and lo and behold an empty C train. Wonderful, right? Wrong! I noticed that when I was on the platform this dude was staring at me. Now, I'm not completely superficial, so it wasn't that he looked like a short bus rider. Special folk have needs too right? It was the fact that he was staring at me like I would imagine men stare at the women who work in those XXX rated booths on 42nd Street (at least that's where those booths used to be, who knows where they are now). I had to look down and make sure that I still had on the white pants and blue and white stripped puff sleeved button down that I left the house in. Sure enough I was not wearing my freakum dress, so I figured it was a deficiency on his part.

So now we are on the empty C train and you would think that the wierdo would sit across from me so he could continue to stare. No he wants to sit in my lap. Just him and me sitting on the entire bench and he keeps scooting closer. Of course I keep scooting away and then another guy and a woman come to sit on the bench. The woman was trying to sit in between us and the guy sat on the other side of me, at the end of the bench. So of course, he scoots over so that he is sitting right next to me (thighs touching and everything which is totally unnecessary since like I said THE TRAIN WAS EMPTY. Not that I like touching strangers even when the train is crowded. There is nothing worse to me than somebody rubbing their sticky sweaty arm on my nice dry one). And of course she's looking at me like "Control your man." And I'm looking at her like "Sorry to have to do it to you!" as I scoot my narrow ass down so that I'm sitting next to the other dude and she doesn't have a choice but to sit next to Dr. Strangelove. Now of course other dude is looking at me like "Why the hell is this crazy broad scooting down here, when the got damned train is empty?" And politely got the hell away from my ass as the next stop. And the older black woman sitting across from me is looking like she is about to bust a gut trying not to laugh at me.

I'm only about 110 pounds soaking wet, so for some reason people (and by people I mean FAT people) always seem to think that they can squeeze in next to me. On a couple of occasions when people ask me if I would mind if the squeezed in, I have said, "Yes, actually I do mind. Exactly where is it that you think you will fit?" And those that don't ask and just think that I will move when their enormous asses start descending need to think again. You will get the unique experience that I call "Operation Bony Ass Elbow in Your Fat Gut!" Or the people who think that perching on the end of the seat isn't a pain in the ass to the people sitting on either side of them. Seriously, if you so desperately need a seat, wait for an empty fucking train you morons! And just because you've been on your feet all day is not a reason for me to feel sorry for you and give up my seat or my comfort. How the hell do you know that I wasn't on my feet all day? And don't get me started on the older folks. I'm not talking about sweet old men and women who don't say anything but so deserve a seat. (These are the people that I stand up for, you know the ones that go "No no I'm only going a few stops". And I always make sure to shame whatever dude is sitting close by but didn't give up their seats) I'm talking about those hard ass living folks that look like their in the 70s but are really only about 50. A few wrinkles do not earn you my respect.

Oh and to the sour pussed West Indian lady that gets off at my stop and likes to step in front of the whole entire door to keep anyone from getting off before her, even though it takes her like 10 minutes to get up the stairs: Keep your old ass on your side of the door and out of my way or next time I will do more than bump into you. I am not above tripping an evil ol' heifer!

(* by the by I didn't know that heifer is actually a young cow, usually over 1 year, that has not given birth - but I still think it applies)

Another Rat Tale

I must be on a roll today, cuase this is like the fifth post I've done! I guess I'm kinda making up for not posting last week or the week before. And hell, I'm not even sure anyone is really reading this, but fuck it, like I ever needed an audience to entertain myself. (I can do bad all by my lonely!)

Anyhoo, I was going to visit Hautechick and her hobbly husband (Luv You Bro!) and got off the C train at Utica Avenue. I walk to the stair at the front end of the platform (on the uptown side) and there coming down the middle of the stairs is a rat. A HUGE FUKING JUMP BAD RAT! and in case you missed this part, HE WAS WALKING DOWN THE GOT DAMNED STAIRS! So I did what any self respecting bad bitch would do, I squealed. And the man behind me, who didn't see the rat, laughed at me and starts to pass me and go up the stairs. That is until he saw the rat. He screamed, straight up screamed, like a girl I might add. And I guess that rat was a friend to my OG Burnt Leg Rat, cause he didn't seem to like the fact that old dude laughed at me, and headed straight towards Mr. Tough Guy. Who proceeded to hop his now non-laughing ass all around the platform so the rat wouldn't get him. Punk ass.

I don't call him a punk for running from the rat, hell I would have done the same thing. I call him a punk cause he laughed at me for being afraid of the rat, then acted more the fool that I did. Now chagrined, he gonna say to me, "Why didn't you warn me about the rat?" but by this time I was too busy laughing at his dumb ass to answer!

Random Thoughts and Observations

The Sequel

I read somewhere that the only people who would like the Transformers movie, were 9 year old boys. Weeeellll call me Timmy and my ninth birthday was last Thursday when I went to see that Transformers movie! I actually waited in line for 30 minutes to get tickets (which for NY wouldn't have been bad, but I was in Martha's Vineyard so that's like 5 hours NY time) and the only people in front of my party of 5 ( 3 grown women and twin 9 year old boys) was a group of 4 20 something year old women (and they loved it too) I mean yeah I know Bumblebee was originally a Beetle, but it wouldn't have been nearly as cool when he turned himself from the old style Camaro to the 2009 model (Gawd that car was hot!) I mean the new Beetle is cute, but I don't think it could kick ass like the Camaro. (and by the way my spell check know Camary, but it doesn't know Camaro - must have been made in the 80's)

And speaking of Martha's Vineyard, I love it for the simple fact that its probably that only place on Earth where you will find a large concentration of blond haired blue eyed pale skinned parents with brown haired chocolate colored children! Its like the reverse of what I see around Central Park - you know the black nannies with the white charges. But in this case, THOSE ARE REALLY THEIR KIDS! I've done plenty of double takes, when people I thought were white from afar, turn out to be black.

And speaking of which, I noticed that melanin seems to be coming back in style, the kids up there are getting darker and darker...

To prove my point, look at the upcoming issue of Essence. It features their 2007 Do Right Men, and the overwhelming majority are darker skinned brothers. (Does that mean that light skinned men are not giving back? hmmm) That Dhani Jones and his bowtie are going to feature in a number of my fantasies....

(the kinky fro, the semi-cocky grin, the fact that I've seen what is beneath the suit, Lawd Have mercy, hold on I need a moment with myself...)

Shemar Moore is on the list. And I keep seeing his naked peen all over the internet, not that I mind. In the infamous words of Hautechick "It's Moore than I thought it would be!" Fuck it, I'm a perv and that looks like a pretty nice penis to me. Great girth and we all know the length can change with a hard thought (ahem). But anyway, I didn't want to talk too much about his peen, but what I wanted to say is WHY THE HELL DOES EVERYBODY KEEP SAYING HES ON A GAY BEACH?!?!? I mean I don't see a single solitary other person on that beach but Shemar, not even a woman, but because he's naked and Perez Hilton wants it to be so, he's gay? Come on, I don't believe you, you need more people. Or at least one other person on the beach, preferably male, for me to believe this completely. I also heard that he was actually on vacation with two (2) women from Canada.

Get out of Work Free!

A friend was recently telling me about an officemate of hers that is constantly getting out of work early. You wanna know how? He just sets his desk up like he's stepped away for a minute (you know half full drink, music playing, document open on the desktop, maybe even leave your blackberry if it is separate from your cell) and bounces! Yes, its that simple. Even better if you are cool with your office mate, and they can tell people "Oh I think I just saw them go to the bathroom" (personally I would throw in something like "He/she had streetmeat for lunch, so...")

But something I just discovered that works equally as well, put the phone to your ear. No need to say anything and I actually find it works better if you aren't actually on the phone. Just look slightly pissed and whenever someone wants to ask you something, point to the phone. (I got a couple of rude momofokos in my office so on occasion I do have to say "Can't you see I'm on the phone?!" and turn my back to the door) It also helps to write something down or type something every once in awhile. Typically I can get anywhere from 5 to 45 minutes of downtime using this technique. But I should warn you that it doesn't work with the big boss - he comes in my office and is usually so preoccupied that I could have a moose on my head and he probably wouldn't notice!

Poopie Runs New York

aka A Woman's Look at Def Jam Fight for NY: The Takeover

Yeah, that was me on the C train. The woman in the J Brand Doll jeans, with the over-sized sunglasses and that fabulous Coach bag, getting completely carried away playing my PSP. For some things, I am completely and utterly childish. Candy being one (I will make a special trip just to get Jelly Belly Sour Jelly Beans or Morinaga Hi-Chews), cartoons being another (I sooo want to get the Thundercats Complete Seasons 1 & 2 on dvd) and fighting video games being the third.

Mortal Kombat kinda sucked to me, Street Fighter Alpha Max was cool, but where else can you watch Kimora kick Lil' Kim's ass? Or buy bling from Jacob? And it's strange because I usually can't stand role playing games, and I had only planned on using the Battle Mode of the game, but I was almost instantly hooked.

The first fighter that I created kept getting his ass kicked, and wasn't getting any respect even in his own hood, so I made him Better, Harder, Faster, and Stronger (Daft Punk rocks!) and Poopie was born! (everytime I think or type Poopie, it makes me giggle) He kicked ass, had Kimora and Lil' Kim fighting over him, it was great for the most part. But I do have a couple of complaints.

Mainly the shopping choices. I mean what woman doesn't want to play dress us with a man? But you only are able to purchase certain things once you've passed certain obstacles. Like you can't buy suit pants until your the boss of your crew. (How bout a little Oswald Boatang -you know that black British dude with the tailored suits) But in my opinion every man needs a suit, even if its only for funerals and court appearances. And since when are sweats considered pants?! And I was so looking forward to buying Poopie a rose gold rope chain, but guess what, one of the jewelery staples of the hip hop industry is not an option. And since I'm being ridiculous, how about some colored diamonds.

And I'm the boss of my crew but I'm still taking (and getting jumped on) the train!? Uh, at least let me pick up a lemon from Major World if I cant get a Bentley Coupe.

You can definitely tell who the head of Def Jam is, not only by his absence, but by the fact that Mephis Bleek is one of the strongest fighters in the game! (I definitely think he's a cutie, but I'm partial to short dudes and if I'm not mistaken he's only like 5'8"- still no way he coulda almost kicked Poopie's ass) And oddly enough Flava Flav was kindof tough to beat too. But the worse part of the game, the fact that my downfall came at the hands of a woman! I tried to avoid her, but the game drags you into fighting on her behalf and as far as I can tell, I didn't even get any ass out of the deal!

Thundercats Ho!!!

Ok so I totally screwed that link up so go see the first episode of the Thundercats over at Mala's site (*she's pottymouthed and snarky - my favorite type of people!)

http://malamag.com/mala/node/224

Thanks Mala!