Teenage Boys

So Four asked me to do him a favor since he's in Philly this week. A good friend of his, and a guy who went to high school with both of us (and I actually likes as a person even back then) runs a basketball camp for teenage boys one week each summer. It's actually not just a basketball camp because they also teach the boys leadership and life skills. They talked to them about how they can turn something they love (basketball) into something that can help them advance their lives. So I really had no problem saying that I would help out. And boy am I glad that I am for several reasons.

First, there is no better balm for a 31 year old woman's ego than to be the only female in a camp full of 30 boys and about 15 college educated men. Especially if she knows a thing or two about basketball which of course I do! The second reason is kind of related to the first. Since I'm the only woman, I naturally get alot of attention from the guys. But because GoodGuy and Four are such good friends they usually talk fairly often and I suspect GoodGuy must have mentioned something about that to Four because he has been calling to check on me at least three times a day. Once in the morning when he wakes up. Once while I'm at the camp to make sure things are going ok. And then there is our usual 2 hour conversation at night when I get home. Four has always been attentive but me being surrounded by males for 5 hours a day has taken it to another level.

Then there is the fact that it is rewarding as all hell. I highly recommend that everyone find a way to volunteer in their community in some way shape or form. There is no greater reward than making a difference in someone elses life. I haven't actually played ball in years so I dont think there is too much that I can offer the boys in the way of that, but I have yelled at alot of them about speaking up, introducing themselves with some pride, pulling their damn pants/shorts up, etc. I always leave tired but refreshed if that makes any sense. Yesterday I spent a good 45 minutes of my nightly convo with Four talking about various boys in the program and the potential that I see. I'm pretty sure that there are a couple of future stars in the program and one kid who is definitely going places - his personality and level of maturity is amazing, not to mention he's adorable and has a pretty good game.

So thank you Four for asking me to help, because I've really been enjoying myself!

The Make Up

So Four let me be mad for like a day. Then he called me and asked if we could get together and discuss what was going on. I have to give him this, the man is smart and he really pays attention to me. I've never been the type of woman to yell and scream at a man that I'm seeing but Four made sure that wasn't even an option. In fact he made sure that I was going to be as happy as possible before we got down to brass tacks. What did he do? He picked me up and took me to Five Guys! Yes, the way to my heart is through my stomach! How could I be really pissed when I knew he was taking me to my favorite burger joint. So even though we started the conversation in the car on the way there, I still had a bit of a smile on my face.

We got through it calmly, with a frank and open conversation about what was really the heart of the matter. I felt as if he really didn't want to go and showed it by trying to cut it so close with getting there, He felt that I just completely shut him down and gave up on him. This is especially poignant because the previous week I had told him how I usually dump guys after three months rather than invest more time with them. He thought that was what I was doing to him since it was about three months since we have been dating. Funny thing is, that have never even crossed my mind. I actually think that I might be falling in love, but since that would be something that I have never done before I'm not sure if I can trust my feelings.

Four broke up with a long time girlfriend at the end of last year and it really sent him for a loop. I personally think the woman was an idiot with self esteem issues but to be honest I am extremely greatful to the dummy. I mean without her fucking up, I wouldn't be with him now, and if it hadn't ended as badly as it did, then I dont think Four would even have considered dating me. It's not that he wouldn't have been attracted to me cause lets face it, I'm a hottie. But I am not anything like the typical woman that he dates. Despite gaining about 20 pounds (in all the right places!) since January, I'm still alot slimmer than the women that he has dated in the past. As he put it, he usually goes for the big body model and that is definitely not me. Also I have never had a problem admitting when I'm wrong - Four calls it my auto correct feature. Then there is the fact that we joke around alot more than either one of us have ever done with a partner. It is not unusual for me to call him a jerk at least once during a conversation and vice versa. We constantly make fun of each other and ourselves and laughter is a big part of our relationship.

All this has kinda helped me to realized what I've been missing in my relationships in the past. Four travels alot for work and his latest assignment is a 6 month stint in Philly. He started last week and brought me with him. I have to admit that it gave me a taste of what a housewife would feel like, sending him off to work in the morning, greeting him in some naughty lingerie when he got back. But it also kind of spoiled me, I miss falling asleeep and waking up next to him. I think I've got it bad...

Lions, Tigers and Bears

Jazmine Sullivan's song is really speaking to me right now.  I feel like for the first time in my life, I'm in a truly mature adult relationship.  We've actually known each other since high school, and as is my way, Four is younger than me.  We hadn't seen each other in a couple of years, but he was always one of my favorite people back in the day.  This was despite the fact that he used to love to hug me when he was sweaty (from playing basketball) and was always poking holes in my afro.  Back in high school we had a brother sister relationship, and for a minute when we found each other again, thats how it was.  He invited me to his birthday party and I while I noticed that he was looking a little yummy, I kind of chalked it up to the fact that I had been celibate for a good while.  He made a point of introducing me to his boys, and by doing so, I got alot of dirty looks from some of the females in attendance.  One in particular looked like she was ready to scratch my eyes out!  Cousin T was with me, and we had a great time.

Then about a two months ago, I was in the house bored and decided to see what he was up to.  On his way back to Brooklyn about to head to his boy's party, did I want to tag along?  Most definitely.  I put alot of thought into my outfit.  Not because I wanted to look good for Four but because I didn't want to get the side eye from any of the chicks that he might want to bag.  Bubba (my best white boy) and I have arrived at parties together and I know from those experiences how tight women can get when they see a boy they want to bag arrive with a female.  So I wore some tight jeans that make my new booty (I've gained about 15 pounds since September) look great and a low cut dolman sleeve shirt.  Did my makeup a little more subtle than I usually do for a party and was ret to go.  Four texts me that he's outside and when I open my front door, he's standing in front of his MDX waiting for me.  I realize now that I've lowered my standard considerably in the past, because this was the first time in a long time that a man was actually waiting to open the car door for me.  

Four gives great hugs.  I know I've never been that big, but I always see myself as a big burly bitch.  But hugging his 6'4" frame made a bitch feel dainty and ladylike and damn it if I didn't like it!  But I'm still thinking that we're just friends and that he's looking at me as a big sister not a potential partner.  We hit the party and one of his good friends from high school (who I always thought was a sweetie) was there.  Four and I are joking about all the tall men in the party and he's telling me that I should go do my thing.  But for some reason I thought it wouldn't be cool and I stayed by his side.  We sit down and sure enough he takes the "she's with me stance."  That's when I started wondering, "is this a date or am I just out of practice being around male friends?"  But no the second thing is not true.  I recently hung out with my gorgeous god-brother with no problem. (You might be thinking that of course I wouldn't hit on my god-brother, but we hadn't seen each other from the time we were about 9 until about 2 years ago and we are in no way related by blood.)  So what was going on with me?

We leave the party and I'm still deep in thought about what the hell is going on between me and Four.  I'm not paying attention and two boys start a tussling.  Four grabs me by the waist and pulls me in close to him and honestly I just about melted.  Something about being in his arms just felt soooo nice.  And I picked up that he liked me being there when the boys stopped the bullshit and he still didn't let me go.  We went out to eat after and just like in high school the conversation was great.  We definitely can wax poetically about more now than we did in high school, but I remember that we were never at a loss for words when we were together back then either.  He could always make me laugh with his strange sense of humor and acerbic wit and I've found that nothing has changed about that.  He also has the most uncanny ability to say the most outrageous things to me without me getting offended or pissed off.  Actually they usually just make me laugh.

So he drives me home and the whole way there I'm wondering if I'm the only one who thought that this really felt like a date.  I'm wondering if I kiss him will he pull back, let me because he doesn't want to offend me (and besides what man doesn't like kissing a hot woman!?) or will he be thinking the same thing that I am - wondering what those lips will feel like?  So we get to my house and he gets out to open my door.  For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead I got another one of those hugs.  It was a great hug, don't get me wrong, but I wanted to a kiss.  So what do I do?  I bet your thinking that I reached up and planted one on him.  You'd be wrong.  Or maybe that I asked him straight out to kiss me.  You'd still be wrong.  You know what my smooth ass does?  I mush him!

A Bitch Is Back With Rats & Whatnot

The Rat

So I'm at Nostrand Avenue train station, which is just about as bad as Utica for sighting rats.  I'm walking toward the back of the Express platform because even though I need the local, I know that downstairs is like, I can't even come up with something its like cause its like nothing else you've ever seen.  Rats every fucking where.  And bold as shit too, don't think that stomping your foot is going to scare them off.  So, I'm walking towards the back of the train and I see dude sitting there and I'm thinking that I sure as fuck wouldn't be sitting on the stairs with as many rats as there are at Nostrand.  And just as I think that I see a rat by the edge of the platform.  I'm still kinda far, Nostrand Ave is a long ass station, but it looks like the rat is closer to me than the man is.  So I keep walking and as is my way, my mind starts to wonder.  Where the fuck it goes, I haven't the foggiest, so if you come across it, just make sure it doesn't cause too much damage.  (I was going to say trouble, but you were expecting that weren't you?)

I had my iPod with me so I'm sure I was singing along to something.  All of a sudden I see the man jump up about 5 feet in the air and I see the rat running away.  What.  The. Fuck.  Right?  I mean did I really just see that.  Did I really just see that rat sneak up on the dude and try to crawl up his shorts?!?  Yes.  The.  Fuck.  I.  Did.  And nearly passed the fuck out for him.  I mean the leap in the air, in retrospect, was hilarious.  But I couldn't even laugh because I was so fucking disgusted.  So dude says to me, "You didn't just see that!  You can not tell anyone one that you saw me scream like a girl."  And I'm all private school snarky ass black chick with the, "Seriously are you kidding me?!?  It was a fucking rat in your pants!   I sooooo saw that and I'm soo writing about it on my blog!"

The Whatnot

If you were wondering where I've been, I was severely depressed after LadyShay came to New York, turned me on to the ways of Sapphic love and then abandoned me.  After which I briefly stalked Taimak from the Last Dragon, which lead me to discover the death of Julius Carry which further deepened my depression.  The situation was further exacerbated (whoa, I spelled that right on the first try- and I'm about to use it correctly!) when I discovered that two of the most disgusting, unattractive people I know are getting married (If a woman who has no problem spreading her thighs on the beach so that she can pick at her numerous razor bumps and I guy who has so many cavities that he doesn't even have to open his mouth for you to see them can find love, why the fuck can't I?  Probably cause my ass is way too picky for some of these half assed dudes...) The depression abruptly lifted upon discovering the deliciousness that is Peaches (a restaurant) and smothering my blues in copious amounts of Chicken Fried Chicken from the Comfort Diner, Bacon Cheeseburgers and fries from 5 Guys (I am obsessed with 5 Guys - The Artist calls them crackburgers), spoiling my Mom with a Mojito soaked lunch at Cabana, discovering the funnocity that is Wii, washing an incredibly big dog who hates water and throwing myself into my work.  You would think that I'd have gained some weight, but you'd be wrong, tummy's still 100 good sit ups away from a 6 pack.  Ahh it is wonderful to be naturally thin. (and don't worry that food was supplemented with organic heart healthy oatmeal for breakfast and plenty of fruits and vegetables!)  

Smooches Hooches!

Whew!

Ok, 4 post in one day.  I think that should be enough to get you through the week.  But I got one more story.  Ok, 2 more stories that I think you'll enjoy...

• So its hot as the hinges of hell in New York right now.  Has been for the last 3 weeks or so.  And humid as shit!  So I woke up on Saturday and took Duke outside in the backyard and decided that he looked hot and needed a haircut.  Now I should point out that I've given Duke a haircut a couple of times and it generally comes out looking good.  Not so this time.  I don't know if it was because I was hot (I mean I was sweating buckets out there!)  or because Duke was hot (he kept fidgeting) or because Mommy jinxed me ("Wow, it really looks like you know what your doing!"  that was about 5 minutes before I took entirely too much off of his back left leg.  Then he wouldn't give me his back right leg so that I could at least even it out!)  Needless to say, my poor Pooper looks a mess.  So bad that everytime I see him I say "Awwww, I'm sorry!"  At least he's a lot cooler now.  I, on the other hand, gave myself heat stroke out there cutting all that fucking hair off.  I was thisclose to passing the fuck out.
• After the heat stroke/bad doggy haircut debacle, I decided that I was going to take it easy on Sunday.  Go get a mani/pedi and then go pick up dinner so that Mommy wouldn't have to cook.  I was going to say Mommy or I, but who am I kidding, I'm allergic to the stove in the summer.  So I get the mani/pedi (no thank you, designs are fine for some people, but fuck no I don't want polka dots on my toes!) and then stop at the ATM and hop on the train at Kingston/Throop to go get some food.  I walk towards the back of the platform, but not too far cause I don't want the rats to get me.  I'm waiting, I'm waiting.  Everything copacetic until the train comes cause it brings a big ass rat with it!  The rat in on the platform running from the train and heading right the fuck for me!  I can admit I screamed a la Mariah, but I bet any of your asses would have done the same damned thing if you saw a NYC subway rat charging up the platform at your ass!  So I'm screaming and running away from the rat and the people waiting in the middle of the train platform and wondering what the fuck is wrong with me, UNTIL they see the rat then those mutherfuckers start hitting high notes too.  So the train stops and the people getting off the train are looking at the people on the platform like we all lost our minds.  AND then, they see the rat and a couple of them seriously looked like they were contemplating hopping right the fuck back on the train.  That is until it looked like that was what the rat was going to do too...

Oh shit, I just remembered that I had a CWAAZZZY story to tell you about SuperSlag - somebody remind me...

Brownie

So I tried to call it quits with Brownie this weekend.  I guess my reasons are kind of silly, but it really doesn't take much for me to cut and run.  I once broke up with a guy because he got mad when I forgot his birthday.  (And nicely had that fool turned around so that it was his fault that I was dumping him.)  Then there was the guy who asked me to put Duke outside.  (In his defense, he was mildly allergic, but Duke lives here, you sir do not.)  Back in college, I once kicked a boy out of my room with the excuse that his breathing was disturbing my sleep.  (Well, it was!)  Needless to say, I'm not the chick that is trying to tie a brother down.  But at the same time, I feel as though if I've been seeing someone for over 3 years, I should be getting a little more out of the deal then some mostly good dick.  

I'm trivializing of course, Brownie and I have had some great conversations and we bounce ideas off one another all the time.  It's just that he lives so far from me, that when we do see each other, it's usually about how much sex we can have in the alloted time.  I'm guilty of falling prey to my hormones just as much as he is, but I always end up feeling a little cheated when its all said and done.  And I said as much to him, and he came back at me with a, "Well you know I want you, babygirl, that goes without saying.  I can admit that I get a little carried away when I see you, (it's that little thing I do when he's behind me) but you should know that its always been more than sex at least for me.  You gotta give me some credit here, I always come after you..."

Which is true, he may wait a couple of months, but he doesn't give up on me.  Lord knows I can be frustrating as hell!  Most of you will have caught that I said, "I tried to call it quits" not I broke up Brownie.  Thats because we talked and it seems that he doesn't think I take him seriously, and he feels like whenever he wants to take me out, I always say that I'm doing something with either my sister or Cousin T.  (which sounds like something I would say.)  And that he knows and understands that I have my own life, and that he would ever try and take that away from me, but that he wishes that I would try and make a little more time for him.  "I want you to call me not just when you want to see me, or when I ask you to call me back, but because you just want to talk to me..."

It was all kinda sweet and shit, but can I honestly say that it also kinda scared the crap outta me!  I got my Nike Rifts by the bed just in case I need to get my FloJo on...

Boo!

Yes I know it's been awhile.  And a lot has happened in the land of Trouble...

• Almost got back with PYT
• Got back with Brownie
• Went to Martha's Vineyard with Cousin T and The Gang
• Got the plague from Gutz (she's Bobbie when she ain't giving me contagious viruses)
• hung out with J.O. (he's Cousin T's best friend)
• hung out with Bubba a couple of times
• saw Grant Hill!  (oh my Gawd! can I just say that I have had a crush on that man since he played for Duke and if that didn't make me feel old, the 10 year old twin boys I was with at the time had no idea who he was - the man is still fine.  No disrespect Tamia)
• went on my annual trip to the movies (I am REALLY not a fan of sitting in the cold cold dark with a bunch of strangers surrounded by surfaces whose cleanliness are entirely too questionable for my liking. I saw Hancock - felt like it was missing a half hour, but entertaining for the most part.)
• found a temp agency that actually got results.  as in sent me on more than one interview within the first week of me interviewing with them.  as in ALL of the jobs that they sent me on were in my salary range AND interesting as hell.  as in bitch got two offers...
• oh, did I mention I got a job?
• got a kick ass job
• got an exciting wonderful challenging engaging lucrative position 
• did some serious shopping on a budget
• ran into Giraffe from the OldJob on the train one morning.  Congratulations on the baby boy!
• went to a couple of parties
• i think i might have run into a boy that i used to love when I was a freshman and sophomore in college.  shit, he loved me too, a least a couple of nights. well anyway, dude was a lot paler and not as cute as i remember.  hence, the i think i might have, instead of a oh, i ran into.
• made some spec-fucking-tacular red velvet cupcakes for MonkeyBoy's 9th Birthday.  It was at Dave & Busters and half the staff was lingering to see if they could get a left over. 
• got really fed up with Brownie's bullshit and came to the conclusion that some dudes just don't change and I am in no way shape or form interested in trying to change any damn body.  I'm not one of those women who is going to tell you what I think you should or should not be doing.  I expect to be dealing with a grown ass man who knows what the fuck is right and what the fuck is going to make me suspect that some shit just ain't right with you.  And if I come to the said conclusion, that some shit just ain't right with you, I am not going to waste any more of my time.  
• told Brownie to have a nice life - wait that's on my to do list...
• saw all kinds of short pant atrocities!  I'm talking ass hanging out the bottom AND the top, thighs that should have been far from hungry devouring inseams like they were baby carrots in a room full of dieting women, all kinds of colored printed and patterned underwear underneath white of all things.  I gotta say ladies, some of you are really trying to give short pants a baaaaad name.  
• saw one of the WORST TATTOOS EVER!!  it was so bad and horrific that I dont even think I can describe it properly.  I was on the beach, and there was a woman in a bikini with flames tattooed around her torso.  But, my gawd, her torso.  And I think the tattooist might have been on crack, or having a seizure, or a heart attack.  Or that might just have been the impression that her cottage cheese gut and stretch marks gave his work...
• bowled a 146! (in Wii bowling but I think it should count, that's my best score evah!)
• I have not been online for more than downloading music/movies/porn (all legally of course!  itunes is my false idol.) so I haven't been reading your blogs.  sorry!  I'm a flake like that.  You should forgive me cause I'm cute.  And did I mention I got a job?  You should be proud of me. I promise to heaps loads and loads of (unwanted) attention on you immediately.  kisses, bitches!
• I missed you all terribly! even that sassy bitch I've been stalking...
• decided to change the blog a little, nothing drastic.  Just realized that a lot of my old content was focused on the OldJob.  I will never say that I didn't enjoy being there at one point, but I am so grateful/thankful/blessed that things worked out the way they did.  I wouldn't be where I am today without them and for that the OldJob will always hold a special place in my heart.  Sadly, it also still leaves a bit of a sour taste in my mouth and I am determined to start fresh.  So, no talk about my job.  Not even a hint, except to say it's great and I love my new boss.  Seriously, love.  But not like that.  Anyway, I started this blog with funny stories about taking the train, and my luck or lack there of in love.  A snarky black woman takes on the world with a bit of humor, a hell of a lot of sass, and a shit load of curiosity.

*Please note that the above list is NOT in order of occurrence.  Names have been changed to protect me from the dumbasses out there, what can I say they outnumber me.  and HI SWAG!

Love and Hate

• I love watching my god daughter grow up, remembering the first time I saw her, the day after she was born, causing a fuss in the incubator room
• I hate the fact that she failed her fucking social studies test.  Come on kid, it's Social fucking Studies!  I know she can read so what the fuck?!?
• I love that my mom still remembers things that I used to love as a kid and will bring them home to surprise me
• I hate the fact that most of the time, the things she remembers are things that I made myself sick on and no longer eat
• I love my incredibly silly and equally talented brother in law - I swear Hautechick, if you two break up, I'm going with his ass
• I hate the pressure of having to bring home and equally wonderful man of my own
• I love that I have "met" so many wonderful people through my blog - PrettyBlack, LadyShay, Daners, Afro, Anners, Jennifer, The Swagalicious One (Damn! Man puts up a pic of hisself and single female bloggers start to flocking huh?  Must be that swagger man) and everyone else
• I hate that some of you are so fucking far away.  Damn, bitches could really cause some fucking trouble (*tee fucking hee!) if we were within driving distance!
• I love that Shay can smell lavender in FL and I'm smelling gardenia's in NY
• I hate that bitches are getting some and I'm not!  Ok, so not really but I was going with the theme here.
• I love that a bad bitch like me can sleep til 11:30 AND STILL buy a fucking Coach bag when ever the fuck she wants it!  (wanna be a bad bitch? ask me how - I should get that shit made into a t-shirt)
• I hate that I wasn't taking better care of myself while I was working.  There was no got damn reason for me to be that skinny and that stressed out.  For real
• I love that I can feel insecure as fuck some days but I still act like my shit smells like roses
• I hate that I feel insecure at all
• I love that I can cry at the drop of a dime.  
• I hate that dumb chits think that cause there might be tears in my eyes, I won't hit them
• I love how soft the underside of Duke's snout is
• I hate that my Pooper is getting old 
• I love my paradoxes - girly tomboy, conservatively liberal, casually glamorous, well mannered potty mouth, sweetheart bitch of an underachieving success.
• I hate that I haven't found my match yet
• I love that I haven't settled for less than the right man
• I hate that I've never fallen in love yet

Tangers Outlet

So two weeks ago was gorgeous weather and last week was Spring Break for NYC Public Schools.  Which meant that Cousin T was off of work. YAY!  That meant from the following Friday til this past Saturday, we were hanging out.  We went to a house part two Friday's ago where we got politely drunk and then not so politely made fun of people.  I got to wear my brand new Skinny Bitch t-shirt.  I love that shirt.  And I think I might have said something about wanting to go to Tangers Outlets in Riverhead NY.  There are Tangers all over the country and the one in Riverhead is probably my favorite outlet center in the tri state area.  So Sunday night T calls me and asks if I want to head out there with her and her Mom on Monday morning.  Two words - HELL YEAH!

Ok, so you might be thinking, Bitch don't have a job, what the hell is she doing shopping?  But to be honest, I really didn't spend that much.  Ok so I really shouldn't have gone into the Coach outlet store.  And maybe I didn't really need those navy blue UGGS.  But they were both sooooo cheap that I couldn't leave them and in the past week I managed to wear both of them twice.  The UGGS are the superlow booties and they have been perfect for this reverse spring weather we're having here in NYC.  Really two weeks ago, in the 70s and 80s.  Last week was in the 70s for most of the week then it hit 87 on Thursday.  This week, rainy and in the 60s if were lucky.  And the Coach bag - do I really need to explain about how I feel about Coach?!  (and it was originally over 300 and I got it for about 150.)  I spent about $12 in Old Navy Outlet ( two tank tops, and a v neck sweater - one of the tanks says Drink Until He's Cute) $26 in the Puma Store (a cute pair of brown and pink linen Roma's) about $20 on outfits for NewBabyGirl (I swear I got about 5 outfits!) and about $15 in the William Sonoma outlet on mixing bowls and a spoonula (like a spatula but you can scoop things!)  I found out that both Cousin T and her Mom are obsessed with kitchen gadgets - which is cool cause I am too.

My favorite things by far, were the things that I didn't pay for.  First, was the time I spent with Cousin T and her Mom.  Despite the fact that she's been married to my cousin for most of my life, and has lived around the corner from me for about 4 years, I really haven't spent that much time with Cousin T's Mom.  We had a great time!  And because I gave Cousin T free cupcakes, she bought me a cupcake carrier from Tupperware.  And its turquoise, which is one of my favorite colors!  I love it!  It inspired me so much that I made chocolate cupcakes with fresh amaretto whipped cream and strawberries.  I actually made a mini bundt cake for Cousin T.  Since Hautechick thought my lemon cupcakes were dry, she only got a mini cupcake (which is like one bite) while the Artist got a a jumbo cupcake with cannoli cream (I was experimenting with Ricotta cheese)

Dance MonkeyGirl Dance!

I think I owe you guys about two weeks worth of stories.  The week before last, the weather was so nice that I spent as much time as possible outside.  I spent alot of time being Mommy's garden bitch.  But I also went to the Spring recitals at MonkeyGirls school.  She goes to a school that has programs for both the performing and graphic arts and I think thats great.  I also think that its great that they do not let the children preform if their grades are not up to par.  What I don't think is cool is that there were soooo many children in the audience last time I was there (poor grades.)  What I don't like is that they teach them how to preform, but they don't teach them anything about public speaking.  You get these amazing dancers and singers who had the opportunity to preform at DisneyWorld , graceful as shit til its time for them to tell you about their trip.  Um, ah, em, ummm.  That shit was working my last nerve.

What I also don't like is that had the performance been last week, instead of the week before, MonkeyGirl would have not been able to perform.  Little chit failed her Social Studies test.  I had brought her a new swimsuit but shes not getting shit til she gets her act together.

Also that week was Spring Break for public school kids in Connecticut so Cousin T's lil Cuz C (LCC) was in town.  She's the same age as Monkeygirl and has to be my second favorite 13 year old girl.  She's got 3 brothers, one older and two younger, and I've always loved her for her girly tomboy ways.  Now that she's thirteen, she's also gorgeous, not that she wasn't beautiful before but its become very apparent that her and MonkeyGirl aren't lil girls anymore.  Makes me feel old as shit and hella protective.

So you can imagine my reaction when some lil shits were sitting behind LCC at the performance and were clearly talking shit.  LCC being 13, decided to sit behind us, rather than with us.  She was steadily ignoring that shit, like a junior Bad Bitch, but I was about to jump outta my skin at those lil hating asses.  Cousin T must have read my mind cause she got up and went and sat with LCC with a well heard, "Let me go sit with LCC before I have to knock out someone's child."

The Where I Was...

So last week was ab-so-lute-ly gorgeous in NYC.  I'm talking perfect late spring type weather.  (If you're not from NYC, than that means upper 70s and sunny, slightly cool at night.)  So I spent alot of time out of doors.  I spent about two days giving Duke a shape up.  Of course, a week later and he looks like he could use another trim.  Then I spent an afternoon with Mommy at our local Lowe's Home Improvement.  I found a exotic houseplant whose common name is Lipstick Rasta so of course I had to get it.  Not to mention that its tendrils look like my hair when I put it in curls.  I paid for Mommy's lil Lowe's adventure and she thanked me for her Mother's Day gift. 

For the past couple of years, I haven't remembered when Mother's Day is.  So instead of missing it and being a jerk, I always try and buy Mommy something in early April just to be safe.  As it turns out, thats also the time that Mommy starts to plan out her garden for the summer, so I usually end up getting her plants or garden related items.  Now when ever I buy her any thing of that sort during the month of April, she adds it to the Mother's Day gift list.  She kind of gets over.

So then the next day we spent in the garden together, planting all the shit she got.  I'm not allowed to plant things with out her permission and can only plant things in the places that she designates.  She's a really strict gardener and shamelessly uses me for cheap labor.  On the up side, my ass and thighs are gonna be right for the summer.  All that damned bending, squatting, and lifting is doing a body good!

The whole time, Duke is laying in the grass doing his best impression of an urban lion.  I wish I could say that old age has mellowed him, but every time someone too rowdy got too close to the gate, he would take off like a bat out of hell and scare the crap out of them.  He finally seems to have tuckered himself out, and here comes this little boy from up the block.  I'm hidden behind one of Mommy's ginormous evergreen bushes, and I hear him say to Mommy, "Excuse me miss, where's your dog?"  Mommy points to Duke, splayed out in the grass, and right on cue, he yawns huge at the kid and rolls his eyes.  I love that dog!

And of course after all that time outside, my hair was dirty.   Didn't smell of anything, but I had been sweating and I can't stand nasty dreads.  Since I was at it I put the curls back in.  That shit took forevah, but they look amazing, if I must say so myself.  Then I made lemon cupcakes with raspberry buttercream icing.  I have to admit that I ate most of them myself, but I did give two to Cousin T, Mommy ate probably one less than I did, and I gave one to Hautechick and one to the Artist.  Everyone loved them, except for Hautechick, the asshole.  I'm on the phone talking to her about the Tupperware that Cousin T brought me (its a cupcake carrier!) and she says, "Why would Cousin T buy something for you?  Oh and I meant to tell you your cupcakes were dry."  I said, "What?!" to give the insensitive chit a chance to rephrase and she says, "your cupcakes were dry"  I hung up on her ass and she has the nerve to call me back and then leave a message repeating that she thought my cupcakes were dry, "since you didn't let me finish."

Lil Heifer...

So me and Cousin T pull up at SuperSlag's house for MonkeyGirl's birthday dinner and here is lil miss thing standing there looking like a junior me.  I have on black skinny jeans, she has on black skinny jeans.  I have on some Coach high top sneakers, and she's got on the low top version.  I say, "Hey Monk, do we have on the same sneakers?"  And this lil shits gonna say, "Uh uh, mine are Coach!"  with full attitude.  I swear I fell the fuck out and then informed the lil heifer that mine were Coach too!

Oh can I just say I put my whole mutherfucking foot in them red velvet cupcakes!  Cousin T's dad (my actual cousin) used to make THE best carrot cake until his diabetes got out of control.  He never gave the recipe to anyone, not even his daughters.  But he's giving it to me after tasting my cupcakes.  And its a good damn thing he got the diabetes under control cause he ate like 3 of them joints.  Even Mommy, the red velvet hater, ate two and was trying to steal more before I left the house with them.

Oh and I'm working on my homework PrettyBlack!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MONKEYGIRL!

on this joyous day, in 1995, my god daughter was born.  A whole 4 pounds of eyerolling, hair grabbing, hollering, side eyein bundle of joy and rebellion.  Only baby in the incubator room lifting her head up and I think trying to get out of that damned plastic box.  Gosh I love that kid.  You see, she was born my senior year in high school and at the school I attended, seniors were pretty much finished with classes by the end of March.  (The rest of the year was spent preparing for the senior play and doing community service.)  So I spent alot of time with her, I watched her just about every day until I left for college.  And when I was away, my Mom used to get her and bring her up to see me.  They would usually come up on the weekend and I will never forget the time they were there for one of my volleyball games.  She charmed just about everyone in the stands by the time the match was over.  My coach had to cut the post game meeting short because MonkeyGirl would not be denied!  And she was absolutely adorable with her too small self walking and talking when no one would expect her to.  We were once at the library in the children's room at Grand Army Plaza (it a huge library in Brooklyn that in this amazing building - actually alot of the libraries in Brooklyn are architectural gems) and this maybe 8 month old baby waddles by.  MonkeyGirl was about 2 at the time, and still small for her age, she's gonna look at me and say, "Babies can't walk!"  The kids Mom looks at Monkey at says, "well they aren't supposed to talk either, but look at you!"

She's almost as tall as me now, in fact she can fit most of my clothes and some of my shoes.  We're even built alot alike.  Shes a dancer where I was an athlete, so she's not a musclely as I was at that age.  Lucky her.  The summer before my sophomore year, my varsity basketball team went to an Invitational Basketball Camp.  I spent 2 weeks doing nothing but playing basketball and running basketball related drills.  Two days after I got home, I had to go to a wedding.  It was the first time that I had worn anything besides workout gear since being home.  I put on my girly pink dress, took one look in the mirror and burst into tears!  "I look like a boy!"  It was terrible, I looked like a body building reject.  Mommy still made me go to the wedding though.  What's one of my post without a crazy tangent!  I know alot of you were expecting it and I sooo hate to disappoint!  You should see my biceps after I've actually been working out consistently...

Anyway, back to our regularly scheduled post, I am so glad to have that no longer little girl in my life.  So I'm making her Red Velvet Cupcakes for her party tomorrow!  I might even whip out Mommy's decorating tools and get my icing flower on!

AND as a bonus tangent I present to you my theory about birthdays.  When I was a kid and someone asked me how old I was I would say something like, "well traditionally I'm 10 years old, but actually I've been alive for 11 years."  It used to piss Hautechick off for some reason.  But its true!  When some one celebrates a birthday, they are actually celebrating the completion of that year, so when you turn 30 (like I did last November) you are actually beginning your 31st year of life.  I used to wonder about why age was counted this way.  I also wonder if it has anything to do with high infant mortality rates that used to exist before medical practices were standardized.  AND since this post was in honor of my 13 year old god daughter, I didnt even curse!

The Skin I'm In

• lots and lots of water, I drink that is.  Plus the MAC doesn't hurt a bit
• speaking of makeup, the handle on my makeup train case broke this morning and I'm really sad about it, I think I'm going to take it to the shoemaker since its leather and see if he can fix it.
• remember I used to do those post on things that every woman needs?  well I just thought of another one, a really good old school shoe maker.  They can take the calf of your boots in, or if they are really good make them a little bigger.  Stretch your too tight leather shoes (or do it yourself with some wooden shoe trees and some rubbing alcohol) fix the run down heel on your favorite shoes, replace a worn down sole, fix the leather strap on a makeup case, at least I hope so
• i actually had a really bad case of the chickenpox when I was in the 4th grade.  So bad that I missed the last month and a half of school.  I still have the dots all over including one on my right cheek and a couple on my nose.  They just dont show up in pictures for some reason.  Then again people usually think they're birthmarks...
• speaking of the chickenpox, did I ever mention that I have a half brother?  He's a real shit.  Anyway when I got the chickenpox, he was in the Marines and he came to see me when he was home on leave.  that would have been strange considering that we spent hardly any time together when I was a kid, but our dad had just passed away the year before, so he was trying to pretend that he's not an asshat.  Anywho, guess who gave the fucktard the chickenpox and guess who ended up in military quarantine for 2 months?
• and continuing on the theme of my shitwit brother, have I ever mentioned that I'm an aunt?  dont think so.  well anyway come to find out I'm an aunt again.  How did I find out?  My buppy cousin gets an email birth announcement from Shitwits (I really like that one, and it really fits my brother) wife, Shitwitta (shes an ass too), so she forwards it to my Mom, who checks her email like maybe 4 times a month (and that does not mean once a week) who mentions it to me last week.  The kid, a boy, was born on Valentines day.
• my home phone went out this weekend, actually all three lines in the house were acting wonky, so Mommy called Verizon and they said they would be here on Monday morning.  wait I should correct that, the first dumbass broad that answered the phone told Mommy that it must be a problem with one of our phones.  I said that was bullshit and told Mommy to call them back (after she made me check all the jacks - good thing the designers of this house were asses and there are only three of them, one on each floor) and THEN they said they would come on Monday.  And what a day Monday was...
• I'm knocked the fuck out, and I kinda hear Mommy's line ringing on Monday morning, but I rolled over and what do you know, it stops.  then my cell phone rings, it the verizon guy and he's outside.  oops!  So I throw on some sweat pants and a hoodie and answer the door.  Hello!  I was for a minute regretting my choice of attire when I realized that the sweats are kinda low rise and show off my flat belly very nicely and actually make me look like I have hips!  it didn't turn into anything but flirting, but that was my choice.  he called me once after he left to make sure that everything was ok, then he stopped by a little later to "make sure."
• so the verizon guy leaves and Mommy comes home and says, "huh, i thought that they were going to come and read the meter today." and right on cue the door bell rings.  I'm right there, so even though this is something that Mommy usually does, I answer the door.  First off, by this time Duke is pretty sick and tired of getting locked up everytime someone comes to the door, so he sticks his snooze in the door and follows me out into the vestibule.  Good thing I hadn't yet answered the front door.  So after a brief yet frenzied battle with the hairy beast I answer the door.  Dog hair everywhere and a tall young cutie here to read the meter!  Sheesh!  That boy better be happy Mommy was home cause I was seriously thinking about jumping the young man right there in the basement.
• My god daughter is going to be 13 on Thursday!  She wants a Sidekick and/or to go to Dave and Busters with a crew.  I'm all for the Sidekick - shes a good kid and she doesn't have a cell phone, but me and Cousin T had a long ass talk about the Dave and Busters thingamajig.
• I was in Filene's Basement shopping for MonkeyGirl's birthday and I saw the most adorable Ralph Lauren baby girl clothes.  I really was debating with myself if I should buy something for NewBabyGirl, SuperSlag's newest kid, but I decided against it.  She'll take it as were cool again and as always expect more.  It tears me up that I can't buy something for the kid without her Mom trying to hit me up for more.

Where's My Fuckin Cookie LadyShay?!?

Why is it when LadyShay says "Fuck you!" to me, I feel luved?

I actually took some pics when I finished doing my hair, but I look kinda pissed off and aggravated so I'm not posting them.  There's one of me with curly locks, and one with straight. Sort of a before wash and after.  Anyway, heres some snarky broad in all of her locked glory.  Don't you just love my enormous bamboo hoops?  I'm sooo old school...

Sesostris

• I was watching Engineering an Empire : Egypt and now I can't get the name Sesostris out of my head or Snefru for that matter
• ella ella ella eh!
• Last weekend I went to my godson's (MonkeyBoy) basketball game with Cousin T.  We showed up in time for his second game (the first was at some ungawdly hour in the morning) and the other team hasn't shown up, so it was a forfeit.  
  

1. Superslag was there with NewBabyGirl and WackThug showed up.  We're watching the kids shoot around for a while and there's this little boy who is pretty damned good.  Doesn't hurt that he's taller than most of the other kids, but his Jordan's are barely tied.  So I say, "That kid would be awesome if someone took the time to tie his sneakers."  And Cousin T starts choking and everyone else (SuperSlag and WackThug) get quiet.  Cousin T told me later the kid was WackThug's son...
2. MonkeyBoy makes the same stink face as that his mother (SuperSlag) used to make when she was upset about something as a child
3. Cousin T and I went to see her Mommy in the hospital after we left the non-game.  She was doing much better (trying to get us to bring her some real food!) and is actually home now.  I promised her that I would make her some incense...

• Memory foam Sock Monkey Slippers (from Target) are apparently "gangsta."
• can I just say "ARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" ah, much better
• I had the worst cereal I have ever eaten this morning.  It tasted buttery and sweet and sour, it was in a word disgusting.
• So I usually do my locks myself.  Its a long and arduous task, but I'm always happy with the results when I'm done.  The worse thing that happens when I do it, is that I think my curls are too tight, or something else trivial.  The same can't be said for when someone else does it.  

1. There was the African Hair Braiding place where I used to have to wash it first (if I wanted it really clean) and bring all of my own supplies.  And forget asking them to style them.  And I usually would have to tell the woman not to use so much product in my hair.
2. Then there was the professional loctician.  She was right near my house, and not too expensive.  Sistah can really do hair, but she has no customer service skills or personality at all as far as I can tell.  I went twice.  Both times it was just me and her in the shop and she said about 20 words to me.  The first time, I kept trying to ask questions, one word answers.  I'm not asking for your life story, but if we have to sit here together for 2 and a half hours, the least you could do is turn on some fucking music or talk to me!    The second time I wore my ipod and brought a book.  Yeah my hair looked nice, but I always left there feeling uncomfortable, like she really didn't want my business.
   
3. So now I found a new place.  I know I'm just being completely and utterly lazy, since I'm home all day it's not like I couldn't do it myself.  But I kind of want to get out of the house.  So I walked over there the other morning, and they weren't open.  I think that's a sign that I should get off of my ass and do it myself.  No curls this time though, they take too fucking long to do.
4. Speaking of hair, but almost completely unrelated (like something in this post was related) you know I really can't cornrow.  Lately Mommy has been making me practice on her, talkinbout what if I have little girls.  But PYT has braids and asked me if I could do his hair, I was like, "Uh..."

• I was going to say that I was verrrry goood last month in terms of not shopping.  But thats not entirely true, so I was going to amend it to say that I didn't buy any clothes last month.  But thats not true either...

1. I got my rose gold and black diamond ring.  To say I love it would be an understatement.  I also have to learn to stop staring at it like an idjeet, but I'm fascinated that something sooo black could be sooo sparkly
2. And I got a pair of high top Coach sneakers that I could not resist.  The look like Chucks (which I also love) and they are all black but they fold over to a leopard print (real genuine illegal leopard - sorry, the Artist used to say this to me all the time)
3. I got the Coach Chucks when I was looking for a pair of black pumps.  Which I realized that I didn't have when I was cleaning out my closet.  I got a fairly standard pair from MaxStudio with a rounded toe, but they have really great toe cleavage.  
4. And I got a dress, hammered silk off the shoulder BCBG.  But I'm not sure if its for me or for my goddaughter (MonkeyGirl.)  She has a formal event coming up next month and I saw the dress and kind of thought of her, even though I already gave her a dress.  But I was also thinking of me a little, since we wear the same size.  Can I just take a moment to say that I'm really kind of pissed and proud of that!?!  I mean what the fuck the kid used to fit on my lap, her whole freaking body used to fit on my lap!  And now the kid can borrow my clothes AND shoes! So anyway, the dress came (I got it from my favorite BCBG seller on ebay) and welll, I tried it on.  I really have no where to wear it, but it looks great, and I'm kind of hoping that she won't like it.  that is a really fucked up thought
5. I also got some lingerie from Victoria's Secret, they're having a clearance sale.  I haven't worn any of it yet though

• Speaking of the Artist, he is the worst joke teller ever!  But he always manages to make you laugh, just not at the joke he's telling.  So, he calls me up and is like "Hey Troubsy, what do you call cheese, that's not your cheese?" and he's cracking up while he's asking me.  I can hear Hautechick in the background saying, "Nooooo Artsy!" and I'm like, "I don't know Artso (*ahahahaha I dont know Artso! that rhymes) stolen cheese?"  And he's all, "Nnooooooooooo! (giggle giggle guffaw guffaw) Nacho cheese!" and then falls into a fit of hysterics.  Hautechick picks up the phone and says "He told that sooo wrong!  He was supposed to say, what do you call cheese that doesn't belong to you!  He's soo silly."  (she said it in that gushy "aww I love him" kind of way)
• This post is just a lame attempt by me to put off doing my hair as long as possible.  Thank you for playing along!  If you don't hear from me in awhile, no, I'm not being my usual flaking self.  I'm probably just tangled up in my hair.  Wish me luck, maybe I'll take a picture when I'm done

Some Shit

No, no more poop tales.

• from time to time, Hautechick and I will end up in hysterical laughter when talking to one another on the phone.  Most recently, she said something about how I always got along with the Artist and that I need to find her a brother in law that she gets along with too.  That lead me to saying that, no, actually I didn't always get along with the Artist, he used to get on my last nerve.  It was Hautechicks fault, she used to tell him all of these embarrassing stories about me, usually things that I did as a child, and he would tease me.   I hated it.  So Hautechick asked me what happened that got him to stop teasing me.  And for a second I couldn't remember.  Then it hit me, it was the time I was hanging out with the two of them (Hautechick, Mommy, and I all still lived together then) and we were inebriated, to say the least, and the Artist went upstairs to use the bathroom and passed out.  He hit the floor so hard that we heard it downstairs.  My mom ended up calling Hautey to come check on him and she found him on the floor with his pants (and underwear) around his ankles.  Just typing about it makes me incredibly giggly.  
• So I think it was yesterday that I got this email announcing $8 fares on a certain airline.  Then today on the news I hear that same airline has been under investigation by the FAA for flying planes that have not been inspected.  
• My god daughter, Monkey Girl, had another recital tonight.  I love that child but can I just say shit, damn, motherfucking 3 hour program, including a got damned dance piece that I saw last time, a whole bunch of teachers on stage so called modeling, and Monkey Girl was only in the last 5 minutes of the damned thing!  I swear...
• Speaking of the recital, I heard about it from Monkey Girl's step family, Step Grandma called me and asked me to get her a leotard and for my help in finding a dress for a formal event coming up in April.  But thats not the point.  The point is, I walk in start looking around for familiar faces and who should wave and quietly call my name, SuperSlag.  Don't choke someone out one time and they think yall cool again.  Buuuut, she had the baby with her and oh does she know how I am a sucker for baby girls.  Actually, its the clothes shopping that I love.  I swear Monkey Girl was dressed to the nines when she was a wee one, and the new one reminds me alot of her.  She's so tiny.  So I sat, behind not next to her, I still don't trust her with my back.  Her and WackThug (baby daddy) actually drove me home.  
• Cousin T's Mom is in the hospital, I'm gonna send her some flowers tomorrow.  She's in my thoughts...
• I had a discussion with Mommy about me moving out of state.  But that lasted just until she told me that I couldn't take Duke with me.  Any time something needs to be cleaned because of him, he's my dog, which is 98% of the time.  Of course he would become her dog on this issue.
• This is kinda wussy but, I can't leave Duke.  He's getting old, I dont know how much time I have left with him, and I'd really be mad at myself if I missed out on it
• My mom has one of those KitchenAid Stand Mixers (how gorgeous is this dark purple one?) my dad brought it for her as a gift.  That means its really old (if you haven't been following along, my dad died when I was 8) and kind of precious to her.  That mixer has made plenty of delectable treats so I've always loved it, but I've also always shied away from using it.  That has soooo changed.  One of my favorite things to make is pizza with homemade dough.  That mixer cut my prep time down by so much and made everything sooo easy.  I've fallen in love with it.  I usually only make pizza about 4 times a year, cause the dough is such a bitch to make.  I made it twice in the last two weeks.  The one with wine soaked mushrooms was reallllly gewd.
• Someone set off a small explosive at the Military Recruiting Station in Times Square early this morning.  Its the third incident in which a man on a bike has set off a small explosive device in the early hours of the morning in NYC  since 1998 (I think it was 98)  No one was hurt.
• I made a bouquet of balloon tulips for Monkey Girl...

Hair Drama Llama

ok so there's no llama, but ever since Daners said it I've been dying to blog jack it.  Plus its hella fun to say.

So I have this interview tomorrow at a placement agency, and I've got the wardrobe thing figured out.  But I have no fucking idea what to do with my hair!  You see, I spent about 12 hours this weekend, washing my hair, tightening my locks and putting each and every single one on a got damned rod roller (how I get my luscious curls.)  So by the time I finished washing and shit, it was like 12:30, no fucking way I was gonna spend 2 hours sitting under the dryer after all of that.  So I tied the largest silk scarf I could find around them bitches and hit the hay.  Or tried to in any case.  Felt like 5 fucking million rollers were trying to bore their way into my skull.  ALL FUCKING NIGHT!  I was cranky the next morning, to say the least.  In fact, it's fucking Thursday and I still have a sore spot on the top of my head.  Which I can't figure out, it's not like I slept standing on my head.  That should be the one spot that doesn't hurt, right?

So the next morning, after all of my hard work the night before, I decided to sit under the dryer just to make sure my curls set.  I sprayed them all with some water, then some good ole fashion oil sheen and promptly fell the fuck asleep under the dryer.  That put a crick in my neck.  But my curls were tight.  No, not tight like good, tight like the belong on a got damned poodle!  And I have a interview tomorrow, errrrk! scratch that, today, my curls still haven't dropped any and I don't know what the hell to do with them.  I was just gonna snatch them up into a ponytail, with all the curls it looks like an elaborate bun, but then I can't put on a hat.  And its supposed to be cold tomorrow.  I just don't do under 30 weather with no hat.  Hell, most of the time if its 40 I still have a hat.  Might not be on all the time, but it'll be stashed in my bag somewhere...

Da Biznass

Since Afro likes my random post I've been talking about sex a lot recently, I decided to combine the two...

• You know Lady Shay, I've turned down a tongue lashing on more than one occasion.  For one thing, I had a very strange relationship some years ago where the sexual aspect of it mainly consisted of him going down on me while he jacked off into a pair of my panties.  I shit you not.  Not that his head games wasn't incredibly tight, but it kind of left a sour taste in my mouth for lick with no stick.  Then there was the dude that, shit I don't know what the fuck he was doing but it wasn't nothing nice.  And don't forget about the dudes that say "Oh I just want to taste it, nothing else" when they know full well that ain't all they want. 
• Speaking of that rather strange relationship of my youth (there is so much shit there I could do multiple posts on Chef and me) he first explained his sexual restrictions on my age (I was 16 he was 19) then on the fact that he was sort of in a relationship with a chick who was away at college in Florida, but the real reason was that his dick was about 3 inches long...
• Thats not to say that some men don't know how to work 3 inches.  Ok, so I've never had a fabulous lover with a 3 inch winky, but I'm sure that there are some out there.  Somewhere.  I've also known some men with 10 inches of thunder who don't know how to bring the rain.  The thought of bad sex with a big dude makes me cringe a little more than the thought of bad sex with a little dude.
• Did you know that some bodegas in the hood sell counterfeit Magnums?  I'm sure that some people don't even notice that they aren't as large as the real ones.  And the latex is different.  What the fuck is the world coming to when big dicked men in the hood (and the women that luv them) have to worry that Jose at the corner store is trying to dick them on the condoms.
• It's really not fair, if someone is tickleish and the other person isn't, the one who isn't should not be allowed to tickle the one who is.  Specially if there is a danger of said person peeing themselves.
• I couldn't laugh, at least not in his face, but PYT busted his lovely tight ass in the snow last night.  All I could do was say, "Oooo damn!  That looked like it hurt sweetie!  Are you alright?" then duck the snowball that headed my way.
• Fucking snow!  I love to look at it, maybe ski on it, but gotdamn if I dont hate to have to shovel that shit!
• In the recent past, I had a man tell me that I made him feel self conscious about being naked.  Needless to say that was the wrong dude for me.  First off,  I'm either in as little clothes as possible, or as many clothes as possible, depending on the weather.  If I'm in some coochie cutters and wife beater, I sure as hell don't want my dude to be in a turtleneck sweater and corduroys.  Secondly, I love to be naked.  It's fucking natural.  I'm not a flasher nor do I dress obscenely in public, but in the privacy of my own home, hell the fuck yeah I'm gonna walk around bare ass.   And lastly, I'm not the chick you want if you need a woman who is going to boost your ego.  I give compliments where they are due, not when they're asked for. 
• Speaking of compliments, twice in my life have I reached into a man's pants and said, "Wow that is really quite large" (or something like that) and the dude was kinda surprised at the compliment.  I think I mentioned that I don't give compliments unless they are due

Jump on it in the morning and ride it til the night...

...wanna give you real jewelry so when it hits the light, bitches will momentarily lose their sight.  She said, "I know what boys like, I know what they want, they want to sex me, they think I'm sexy.  I know what boys like, boys like me."

Just a little trip back in hip hop time when I actually liked Jay-Z.  This is going to be another one of those random post that I do from time to time.  Bear with me...

 I recently realized that I've never slept with more than one man at a time.  Wait, I'm not sure how you took that, but what I mean is that if I'm sleeping with one man, I don't sleep with anyone else.  I guess you would say that I'm sexually exclusive.  I just couldn't see myself going back and forth between men.  Twins on the same night at the same time, now thats another dirtier story.  I don't expect my lovahs to be sexually exclusive, but I do expect them to be discreet and most importantly clean.  Dont you ever fucking come to my house smelling like some other woman or just as bad, you own funky ass.

I thought I lost my The Incredibles DVD.  I love that movie!  Shit, who am I kidding I love Pixar almost as much as I love Jim Henson and thats saying alot if you know how I feel about the Muppets.  Speaking of the Muppets, I just got The Muppets Take Manhattan on dvd!  How cool is that!  (ok maybe not that cool to you, but cool as shit to me! fuck you very much if you think I'm a dork.  But I'm pretty sure dorks don't have head game like I do...)

Speaking of head game (is it wrong to segue from Muppets to Blowjobs?) can I just say as a woman, that I actually do quite enjoy the power of giving a blowjob.  The feel of having something so vulnerable yet so hard in the palm of my hand.  Doing just the right thing to make him hiss and that extra swirl of the tongue that will having him calling out.  If you're a woman and you're thinking that its an act of submission, than sweetie, you really haven't been doing it right.  And to the maybe 3 straight guys that may be reading this, if you learned to really enjoy eating the puss, (that is if you already don't) you'd probably get a hell of a different reaction than if you just eat it cause you think its what she wants you to do it.  If you don't enjoy it, chances are you're partner won't enjoy it either.

Sorry I haven't been around the blog world lately, I've been off playing with a boy.  Well at least part of the time.  I've also been cleaning this sty I call an apartment, fine tuning my resume (I should start sending it out by Wednesday) and trying to groom Duke.  It took me about 4 hours just to give him a really good brushing.  Then I spent another hour using the undercoat rake.  Then I needed a break so the next day I got started with the clippers, and we were doing pretty good until I tried to cut him back left leg.  He didn't want me on that side.  So I was pretty tired and said I would try the next day.  But then it snowed.  And since we live on the corner and own the lot next door I had to shovel all of that shit and I think I pulled something.  So the haircut is incomplete.  He looks alot better, but my back is fucking killing me from the snow shoveling.  Then it had the fucking nerve to rain the next day and most of that fuck ass snow disappeared and today it was in the 60s!?!  Fucking weetodd weather, I blame it on the industrial revolution.  Fucked up weather, cancer and pollution.  What a great fucking time in history that was...