The First Fight

It was inevitable. I knew it was coming, but I'm still not sure how to handle my disappointment.

I invited Four to Gutz' wedding about a month ago - the wedding itself was held yesterday. I told him that it was to be a ghetoriffic affair, bride all tatted up, groom with cornrows and tatts as well, held in a place (not a church) right in the middle of the hood. I also said that some of my favorite people would be there and I would like for him to meet them. My gorgeous lil cuz (who's 21 and at least 6 feet tall so I should really stop calling him my lil cuz!), my god daughter, Cousin T, my aunts - so I was happy to be going. And at the least I expected it to be entertaining.

The disagreement started a month ago when I showed him the first dress I had planned on wearing. He didn't like it, which was fine but a bit of a let down. I love to shop, so I found another dress - it was $20 and adorable so that kind of took the sting out of him not liking the first dress. But then he said that this dress was too short. It covered my ass and nothing was hanging out, it wasn't skin tight, so I figured he would get over it. Now for the next escalation.

Four assistant coaches some 13+ boys in a basketball league. I asked him if he was sure that he could make it or if he had a game the day of the wedding. He tells me that yes they have a game but that he should be able to make it and if anything that he would just meet me at the wedding. Ooooookay! I'm thinking that he has a game at 11 or 12 and that he'll be down at 1, head home to take a shower and still be just able to make it to the wedding at 3:30. Then last week, he tells me how the head coach cancelled practice on Thursday and Friday so that he could go to a friends rehearsal dinner and wedding. I'm hoping that he will take the cue and say that he can't make it to the game on Saturday so that he can be my date. No such luck

To make matters worse, my cousin who is the photographer asks me for my help since he is the one giving Gutz away. I'm excited for the opportunity since I recently started getting back into photography, something that I haven't done since I was a sophomore in college. I tell Four thinking he'll be excited since I am, and his reaction is "So you're going to be leaving me alone with a bunch of people I don't know!?" I'm calm, cool and collected even though I'm more than disappointed in his reaction. I don't point out that that is exactly what he did to me when we went to the wedding in VA. I don't point out that in VA, he didn't have a specific function that kept him from being with me, he was just off talking to his friends. Instead I tell him that I will make sure that he is seated with Lil Cuz since they have alot to talk about and my Lil Cuz is the best! He still doesn't look convinced and I'm starting to get nervous about how this wedding is going to play out.

The day of the wedding, I wake up early to take care of some stuff and around noon I send him a text message to see what he's up to. I'm expecting him to tell me that he's in the middle of a game and instead he waits about 10 minutes before texting me back and telling me that he doesn't start coaching until 1. WTF!!!! If he had been in Brooklyn, where the wedding is, or even in Queens, where he lives, I wouldn't have been concerned. But he's not, he's in Harlem and I can see no possible way for him to make it to the wedding. So I say as much, I send him a text that said "So your not going to make it to the wedding..." He waits an additional 20 minutes, til about 1:30 and then he calls me. He tells me that he has his clothes with him. Getting madder because even though I told him it was a ghetto wedding, I still expect him to take a shower before getting dressed. He tells me that the game has been forfeited and that his boys won. Getting even madder because the way I see it that means that he REALLY didn't need to be there. He tells me that he's about to leave and he can make it to the wedding. Getting really mad because I feel like he should have been in the car already making his way to Brooklyn. So I tell him not to bother, that I can go to the wedding by myself, he doesn't have to come with me.

I'm mad and I'm the first one to admit that most people do not act rationally when they are upset. But it's the way I feel. Sure he could have made it to the wedding and I really didn't expect it to start on time (actually didn't start until after 4) but I was feeling like he didn't really take it seriously. Like his priority was the boys basketball team, not going to a wedding with me. I'm thinking about how I spent 4 days in VA to go to a wedding with him. How I paid for my plane ticket. How I spent one of those days mostly alone because he couldn't fly down til Friday night and I came in on Thursday night. How he left me alone at the table while he went and entertained his best friends girl. How he would walk off and have conversations with people and leave me alone at the table and how I would have been madder about it had I not gotten along so well with one of the women at the table. And I don't want to deal with him. So when he sends me a text 20 minutes later that he's on his way to Brooklyn and am I sure that I don't want him to come, I say "no thanks!"

And when I get there and he's sending me text messages about how badly I behaved, I indulged in a text fight for awhile, then realized that I was having a good time at the wedding and told him I didn't want to deal with him now because I was enjoying myself. I was even more pissed off that he would feel the need to lash out at my reaction DURING the fucking wedding. Felt like he was trying to make sure that I didn't have fun. I also got pissed when he told me that he felt that I reacted badly. I didn't curse him out, or scream, or anything of the sort. I just calmly told him that I didn't want him to come with me. When he texted to tell me that my reaction and choice not to have him come was not cool- I told him that I would rather be at the wedding alone than have him with me and be pissed off the whole time because of unresolved issues. Sure the issue is still unresolved but because he wasn't sitting next to me I was able to put it aside and actually enjoy myself.

I know that I made the right decision telling him not to come with me but I know that today is a new day and eventually I'm going to have to deal with my anger at him...

Fashion for Change

Oh. My. Gawd!  I just absolutely must have/will wither without the following items.  Seriously.

• Marc Jacob's Obama '08 Button Tote Bag - $75
• Rag & Bone's Change is Awesome Tote Bag - $75 (yes I need two tote bags!)
• Tracy Reese's Obama '08 Black Ladies Long Sleeve T - $70
• Nanette Lepore's Hope Anchor With Pin Ladies T - $65 (OMFG I lurv her!)

There are also t-shirts by cutie patootie Pharrell Williams, Juicy Couture (Dude, Where's The Hope?),  Alexander Wang, Zac Posen, Narciso Rodriguez, Vera Wang, Maria Cornejo (i really like hers too), Russell Simmons, Tory Burch (which would look absolutely adorable with some cuffed jeans and a pair of her ballet flats) and more people who I either don't feel like typing, don't know or don't care for.

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...

Buggy

Despite my tom-boyish tendencies as a child, there was always one thing that could make me turn into a shrieking girly mess, bugs.  I hate them, all of them.  Butterflies are pretty to look at, but let one of those mutherfuckers land on me, and I will hit a high note like Mariah.  I don't care if its harmless, or pretty, I don't want it to touch me. 

So naturally bugs flock to me in hives.  I don't have ants in my apartment, or even roaches.  I get fucking centipedes, one of the most horrid bugs in my opinion.  Not only are they multi-legged but they are also kinda slimy and thus EXTREMELY GROSS!  One night I left a glass of limeade by my bed in a big red plastic cup (what I think of as a party cup.)   I wake up in the middle of the night, grab the cup and got a little something extra with my sip.  No, it wasn't tequila, IT WAS A FUCKING CENTIPEDE IN MY FUCKING MOUTH!!!!!!!!!  But I didn't realize it at first, thought it might have been a bit of pulp.  Good thing I can't stand pulp.  Bad thing I spit it out in my hand and turned on the light to see what it was.  (I can admit now that if anyone else had been in the apartment with me when this happened, they probably would have laughed their ass off at my antics, but seriously it was a bug in my mouth!)  Lots of listerine, lots of tooth brushing, lots of willies....

Then the other night, I get out of bed to go potty and I step on something kind of squishy.  I'm really hoping that Duke spit a piece of food out on the floor.  Of course not.  I killed the summabitch, but I still stepped on the damn thing with my bare foot.  Needless to say my right foot was scrubbed til it was pink like a white babies bottom, and just as soft.

Strange ting gwan

Hautechick is famous for telling me how she saw this guy and he would be just perfect for me!  She never really knows the guys, usually she sees them in the street or on the train and I always end up saying to her, "It's not like you're going to run into dude when I'm with you."  So her tactics have changed.  Recently she's been coming to me with guys names.  She and the Artist are renovating their house, so she called up some contractor tells him her name and the guys says, "Oh, you must be Omar's wife."  Actually she's not but dude has the same last name as her hubbie.  So she says to me, "That would be soooo cool if you married Omar and we had the same initials again!"  How or where I'm supposed to meet this guy, I'll never know.  Sheeet we don't even know what dude looks like.

A couple of weeks past and she says to me, "Hey remember Omar?"  like we really knew dude or some shit.  Well turns out she's was standing in line at the post office behind a guy who she thought was even more perfect for me than the possibly imaginary Omar.  And she knew his government.  Of course my snarky ass says, "Well thats nice that you know his name, but where the fuck do you suppose I'm going to meet him?!"  Weird ass sister comes back with "Google him!"  I'm starting to think that either my sister has stalker tendencies that I knew nothing about, or she really has no faith that I'll be able to find the man of my dreams.  

So, skip forward a couple of days, I'm over at Hautechicks for a visit and decide I'm gonna make a pizza for dinner and want some fresh mushrooms.  Hautechick and the Artist don't have anything to dinner so we all take a trip to Foodtown (one of the local stoopidmarkets).  The line was ridiculous, so I'm standing on line with Hautechick while the Artist (who has the longest legs of the three of us) ran around getting the rest of the stuff that we needed.  Hautechick's running her mouth and I'm only half listening when I spy with my little eye a gorgeous specimen of man candy.  Tall, thin, gorgeous locks I would luv to play in, and I can't take my eyes off of him.  I hear Hautechick gasp then she says, "Oh my Gawd, thats RN! I told you, you would like him!"  It would have been perfect, if it hadn't been for the older woman that was sure not his momma that was with him....

The Answers....

1. True - I'm good as long as I don't see the needle
2. True - but in my defense, she never knew I did her man, she suspected but its not like she could ask me straight out.  Well she could have but I think I already established her ass was weak anyway.  Seriously, if thats your homegirl and I'm sleeping with her man, let me know on some real shit not on some "Ooooo let's jump her ass!"  cause its not like I knew.
3. Hell Naw that shit is false
4. Truly
5. True!  I love NYC cause you never know who you'll run into!
6. True - I really really really don't like eggs
7. True - for some strange reason (probably cause the fish know I can't eat them) I always catch a shit load of fish, but someone has to bait the hook and retrieve the fish for me - even touching them makes my throat itchy.
8. False - at least not to my knowledge, but I have been in the room when other people had sex - not by choice, they thought I was sleeping and I couldn't exactly get up and walk out of the room!
9. False - I have dated someone that was 15 years older than I was.  The youngest person that I've dated was 8 years younger than me.
10. Sadly true - I wasn't aware of it when we first started seeing each other, he said they were separated, but not separated enough for my ass.  They still lived in the same house with their two kids....
11. True, but I'm not telling and I doubt you guys could guess who it is....

I think Swag was the only one who got them all right.  Don't know what the questions were?  Go Here

Dancin for Dollars

I've been kinda worried lately.  Not that I wouldn't find a job, but that my not having a job might make Mommy feel like she has to pick up more of the slack.  I've been sending out resumes, but alot of employers ask what my yearly salary was with XBossMan and then I wouldn't hear from them again.  I met with a couple of placement agency but they were not panning out.  It seems to me that they lure you in with promises of $80,000 plus bonus jobs that never materialize.  Meanwhile they're trying to convince you to interview for jobs that pay a little more than half of that and to lie and say that your last salary was less than it was.  Wouldn't want to discourage the cheapskates now would we?

Then there were the fucking test.  Do you really believe that I've spent the last 7 years working as a personal/executive assistant and I don't know how to use Word or Excel?  It's fucking insulting.  What's even more insulting is that the fucker didn't tell me that you can't use shortcuts during the test, in fact they take off points for using shortcuts, so I got a 90 on a test that I should have gotten 100 on.  Oh, and how about the asshat counselor that wanted me to contact the companies that I worked for 8 and 9 years ago and ask them to confirm the exact dates of my employment.  WHAT THE FUCK?!?!  

So I was trying to avoid any employment agency listings.  But one intrigued me.  And I was half way sold when she got back to me and told me that there was no need for me to do any skill testing.  But she had just had a baby and was not working out of the office, would I be willing to meet with her assistant?  Sure, I've always been intrigued by women with male assistants.  The meeting went well, very well.  But I still kept applying to jobs, cause Mommy didn't raise an idiot.  

In my online travels, I came across a couple of jobs that really interested me.  Two weeks ago, one was practically screaming my name.  I mean sooooo right up my ally with some perks that I could reallllllly enjoy.  So I submit my resume, I think it was a Saturday evening or Sunday morning.  I get up early on Monday to head to Tangers with Cousin T (see post below) and Mommy sticks her head out of her apartment sees me and says, "Oh, I thought you were going on an interview."

About 3 hours after that, I'm standing in the middle of the Nike Factory Store and my cell rings, its the HR department for that amazing job that I applied for.  Would I be able to come in on Thursday for an interview?  3 hours after that, my new placement agent calls my cell and ask if I would be interested in a phone interview for a job at a sturdy company.  I say its a sturdy company because there would definitely be job security and a good salary.  The thing is, I'm not really interested in the industry and I would be the second assistant, answering to the first assistant.  I really dont have a problem answering to someone else, but I do have a problem with most women.  I'm not gonna prevaricate, I usually don't like them and they usually don't like me.  I have never been hired by a woman.  Wait thats a lie, when I was 14 I was hired by a woman.  But job security!  So I said yes to the phone interview.

I wasn't sure how it went, its kinda hard to gauge reactions when you can't see someones face, but I didn't think I tanked it.  But I must be very hard on myself, cause my agent called me a short time later to say that the the HR lady loved me and wanted to know if I could come in the next day to meet in person.  So that's how I ended up with two interviews last Thursday, which was also the day it was 87 degrees here in NYC.  And then yesterday I got called in for a second interview at the job that I found on my own.  So things are looking up, but forgive me if I disappear.  Hopefully it means I'm dancin for dollars!

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)

How I think

PrettyBlack did a post about Things She's Learnt So Far, and it inspired me.  Here's some shit I think

• Compliments are beautiful things.  Everyone loves to be complimented and sometimes a sincere compliment can go a long way.  And there ain't shit wrong with giving yourself a compliment or agree with a compliment that someone has given you.
• You can be cocky and gracious.  When your agreeing to that compliment, make sure you say thank you cause there is no bitch bad enough to be rude all the damn time.
• Respect your elders, but don't take no shit from them either.  I have this one Aunt that will take the last dollar out your pocket if you let her.  It's not that she needs it, by any means.  It's just that she CAN and WILL do it if you let her.  For some reason she's gotten it into her head that it's her right as an elder.  She even did it to me when I was a kid.  Actually she did it to all of the cousins when we were kids.  I'll never forget the time she beat me with a slipper because I called her on it when I was 10...
• Some dude LOVE a psycho chick.  They don't want a broad who acts normal.  If you don't call them 18 times a day, they think you don't really care about them.  If your not willing to give up everything and everyone for them, they don't think your committed.  If you don't scream and yell at them for some dumb insignificant shit that they did (probably to try and get you to act like a psycho), then you couldn't possibly care about them as much as TheNextChick.  
• Conversely, some chicks LOVE a psycho dude.  If he's not insanely jealous, then he must not care.  If he's not cursing you out or putting his hands on you, then how are you supposed to know that he wants to be with you?  If he's not shady as hell and suspect as fuck, then you don't want shit to do with him.  And heaven forbid he have a job instead of a hustle!
• There is nothing wrong with loving animals and eating meat.  NOTHING!  I love Duke, but if you think I'm gonna stop eating red meat or wearing leather, your fucking cracked.  Humans have been living with and eating and wearing animals since the fucking dawn of time.  The problem is in the wastefulness not the consumption.  The Artist's Dad hunts, but he uses just about every part of the deers that he kills.  Ever had deer jerky?  Antler buttons anyone?  He made the Artist the baddest deerskin jacket.  It's very rustic goes metro
• I FULLY believe in the right to bear arms.  I understand that guns aren't for everyone, but if shit goes down...
• Learning computer programming is cool and shit, but I think that more minorities need to learn skilled trades.  I'm talking carpentry, masonry, and other unionized construction trades.  And lest not forget about other hands on skills like culinary arts, gemology, pattern making/garment production and others.  
• I want to be cremated.  Some of you might think it's morbid for a 30 year old to think about things like what they want done with their remains, but tomorrow is not promised.  And the idea of burying my body just does not appeal to me.  AT ALL.  I've discussed this and my other wishes with Mommy and I know what she would like me to do for her.
• If you are old enough to get your nails done regularly (I'm talking to all you teenage girls with tips or eyelash extensions or whatever have you) then you are old enough to maintain yourself ALL around.  I can not STAND to see these young chicks out here sporting blinged out nail tips with earwax dripping out of their ears.  Or young dudes with $200 sneakers on and a fresh fade with same dirty ears and even worse, they apparently have never thought to take a washcloth to the back of their necks.  Come on people, how are you teaching these kids how to half take care of themselves?!  I mean I remember being a teenager and just knowing that some wackadocious outfit I was wearing was the shit.  I was headstrong and didn't listen to shit anyone tried to tell me about style.  I might have looked crazy as hell on several different occasions, but I was always clean.  Couldn't anyone say that I smelled or was dirty.  The same can't be said for a disappointingly large number of youth that I have come across as of late.
• And speaking of children, I will hit someones child if they step bad to me or mine.  Dead ass.  If some little 13 year old girls jumped my god daughter and I was there to witness, please believe that I will be throwing said little as far as I can.  And should said little girls think to swing on me, I will be swinging back with 25 years of fighting dirty behind me. Parents please raise your children with manners and self confidence and the thought that your children might run into me someday.  I'm not gonna try and kill them, but I will put them in their place if they think to jump bad.  (there is a recent real story behind this - don't worry I'll spill and I didn't have to hit anyone's child.)
• Karma is a man stealing, dog killing, best friend turning, food spitting, car scratching, std riddled, yeasty pantied, $2 whore. beware that bitch

Half Baked

• I really tried to do my homework this weekend but a couple of things slipped through.  Damn you PYT and your flaky ass!  Thats why I ate your cupcake you momo!
  
• WARNING LADY SHAY!!! although if we are still synched, that might have been a little late.  I was early
• I spent about an hour and a half on the phone with my sister the other day.  By the end of the conversation I couldn't breathe, my throat hurt something awful, and tears were streaming down my face.  She reminded me of how I used to put bandaids on myself at night when I was little.  No reason, I just liked bandaids.  One day my Mom found all of the bandaid wrappers under my bed and freaked out a little.  She asked me why I was putting on bandaids, did I hurt myself? and I replied (at least according to Hautechick) "No, I just like bandaids."  I still have a thing for bandaids
• I also used to stick stuff up my nose, which is strange cause I can't even do nasal spray now
• So Cousin T calls me yesterday with a rather strange request.  Superslag (her sister) sent her a text message that morning asking her if she could contact me on her behalf.  It seems that she would like for me to make 33 red velvet cupcakes for her birthday next week.  She tells Cousin T that she would have called me herself, but she doesn't have my number anymore.  Then she says that she will pay me for all of the supplies.  Uh, bitch I know you think your slick, but I'd have to be a real idiot to fall for that one!  I made the cupcakes for your daughter because I LOVE HER, you I just barely started to be able to stand for more than 5 minutes.  I should calculate the cost of supplies, the cost of using the gas to cook those bitches, AND an hourly rate for my time.  I started to charge her a buck each but that is cheap as hell and while I might do that for someone I like, her not so much.
• Speaking of baking and Superslag, I will never forget the time that someone paid her to make them a birthday cake, $20, and this chick makes a box cake and says some shit like, "Do you know how much a box of cake mix cost?!"  Actually I don't, my Mom taught me to bake from scratch and since in my opinion it only takes a little bit more time, and taste 1000 times better, I stick with scratch.
• More interviews.  I'm about to send XBossMan a letter of recommendation for him to sign.  I drafted all of his correspondence in the past and I figure this way I at least know the basis of what the lil shit is going to say in the letter, and I dont have to deal with him everytime I want a recommendation
• Gnarls Barkley in NYC!!!!!
• Is it me or is this season of Top Model excruciatingly boring, the majority of the girls are not attractive or intelligent or interesting in the least.  I cant stand the African chick or the drag queen.  I liked the chick that got kicked off for a hot minute, but even she turned into an ass

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.

Vice

• today I did post on sex, violence, and politics.  i guess you could say I'm feeling horny, angry, and argumentative.  you could say it, but you might get cut.
• Did anyone hear about the fatal crane collapse that happened last weekend in NYC?  I mean besides the people that live in the metro area.  It is sometimes an amazing thing to watch those cranes put up skyscrapers, especially in NYC where space is always at a premium.  But it is also terrifying.  They are these amazingly tall structures that look so delicate.  My heart goes out to the families of the 7 people that lost their lives...
• sheesh and I dark and moody today or what?!  I think its the rain, cause it couldn't be that whole no job to go to thing.  Good thing a bitch is still getting paid.  A check for doing nothing will lift your spirits like nothing else will!
• there was an FDNY ambulance and a police car in front of my house today for awhile.  I saw them helping a woman into the ambulance and then the cops talked to her for a while.  am I smart or paranoid to want to go outside and take pictures of the sidewalk around my house just in case?
• I really dont think that really high class call girls would advertise their services on websites where any dick tom and harry who had a good night at the craps table and little sense can acquire their services.  I'm just saying
• I think that it is toooooo huge a coincidence that our guvnuh is forced to step down for a sex scandal right before the ever problematic NY State budget is due.
• I remember what it was like to be 22.  to think that being with your friends and partying was the most important things in the world.  i also recall that I didn't really date 22 years olds even when I was 22.  Back then I was a lolita instead of a baby cougar...
• when I was 19, I decided to leave the college that I was going to in CT in order to take a full time job back home in NYC.  So when I was in my early 20's I had already been working for awhile, had my own little bit of money, and was cocky as shit.  I also used to smoke and met a number of men when they asked me if I was too young to be smoking.  I dated alot of 30 year olds during that point in my life.  A LOT and I'm pretty sure that there was a 40 year old in there somewhere briefly
• before I left that school in CT, I managed to make my way through a crew of guys.  I don't think that most of them even knew that I had dealt with the others despite the fact that there weren't too many people of color on campus.  I actually didn't sleep with all of them, but I was courted, coddled or spoiled by each and every one of them.
• People tell me that I look innocent, and I used to take great advantage of that.  I think thats a major reason why I was able to get away with pulling that last stunt pretty much unscathed.  The scathed part was that I didn't figure out that the dude that was acting like my brother, was the one that was the most interested in me.  Of course he was the one I was least interested in and he started talking shit about me.  It only took about two sentences for people to figure out that he was just jealous of the dude I was seeing (not one of the crew.)  Note to guys: never finish slamming a girl by saying, "You should have been with me!"  
• The other scathed part was the fight I almost had with this chick over the one dude in the crew that could have been considered my man, sort of.  He was sleeping with her too, which was cool because while I didn't want to know who, he did tell me that he was seeing someone else on campus.  She unfortunately wasn't as realistic with the situation as I was.  She was also older than me and to say marriage minded would be an understatement.  Anyway, one night at a semi formal party, she and a friend walked up on me while I was dancing with another guy (part of the advantage of being a tom boy and a seductress is that people never know if the dude is a friend or a luvah - this one was currently a friend but was a past luvah) he was a (something I can't say cause it will give away more than I want) but saw the set up and warned me.  She managed to get a swing in, but then again so did I.  Let's just say, I was a little more accurate.  I lost a $5 necklace and had a scratch on my neck, she had some bruising.
• Got damned confused as fuck seagulls!  Cawing out my window like I give a fuck.  Bitch this is CENTRAL Brooklyn, take your ass back to the sea and leave me alone damn it.  Fucking bird goes off, wakes up Duke, then he starts barking cause he don't know what the fuck that is. It's happened twice this afternoon. Sheeet....

Perception

When I first started this blog, you'd be hard pressed to find a picture of me.  There was a reason for that.  You see, when people first see me, snarky is usually the last thing that the think.  For one thing, I'm pretty tiny.  Despite being almost 5'7", the most that I have ever weighed is 125 lbs and that was when I was working out 4 to 5 days a week.  Add to that, what Hautechick calls my cow eyes (big brown eyes with pretty long lashes) and the fact that I could pass for someone 10 years younger and I'm not what you would call intimidating.  As a result, weak willed bitches always want to test me.

I cannot tell you how many times I've gone out with Cousin T, shit will pop off, and some dumb chit thinks I'm the one to be tested.  There was the time we went to a party with her sisters (CoHo, SuperSlag, and Bobby) and it was raining.  I should insert here, that I have a thing for walking umbrellas, I have to stop myself from buying more.  So needless to say, you won't catch me carrying around some generic black umbrella if I can help it.  I check my umbrella going in, but on the way out its a total mess.  All of the tags have fallen off of the wet umbrellas.  But I know my shit, and I made sure to speak to the dude that was checking them, so he hands me my shit right off and I'm out the door waiting for the rest of the crew.

Here comes Cousin T, cause her shit is always purple, but before she gets to me heres some random chicks in my face.  Two of them are gonna walk up to me and start talking about how they think I stole their umbrella.  "Yeah I'm pretty sure thats my shit she's holding."  "Yea, that looks like the one you had."  Me, I'm standing there with my eyebrow cocked, waiting for it.  Cousin T is standing behind them, waiting for it too.  One of them reaches out and makes to grab my umbrella.  It wasn't raining at this point so I use it to smack her hand away, "this is not your umbrella, walk away." real calm real quiet like, which should have been her first clue.  "I think it is mine, let me see it."  "Now, if you had walked up to me and asked to see it in the first place, I might have let you.  But you want to try and grab shit and I hate rude people.  Get the fuck out of my face bitch."  Now she's going off about how I disrespected her and Cousin T has been joined by the rest of the people with me, so they are pretty much surrounded by some chicks that are in some cases ALOT bigger than me.  All of a sudden, they want to be nice.  "My bad, I thought it was mine."  Little chick standing by herself they wanna pick on. Little chick surrounded by some burly big backed bitches and the want to back off.

It's the story of my life.  Some low self esteem bitch thinks she can feel better about herself by picking on the skinny chick.  What they don't know is that the skinny chick is kinda quick with the wit and the fist.  And I'm not above fighting dirty if the person is bigger than me.  Which pretty much means I fight dirty all the time since I can't ever remember being in a fight with someone who was my size or smaller.  I can honestly say that I NEVER in my life started a fight, but I've finished quite a few.  I've had my share of busted lips and scratches, but they've all healed.  But I don't think that I would be able to live with myself it I knew that I let other people intimidate or bully me.  That's just not the type of person that I am...

and for the record, I don't back down whether I'm surrounded by burly big backed bitches or by my lonely!   

Sickly...

So I started feeling kinda funky on Sunday, a slight tickle in my throat.  By Monday it was a full blown sore throat.  I started taking Yarrow, which I think helped to stop it from turning into the flu, but I was congested and had a headache all week.  I got a call on Tuesday for an interview and scheduled it for today, Friday, hoping I would be up to top speed.  Of fucking course, today would be the day that I lost my fucking voice!  Not all day mind you, just the 4 hours that it took me to get to the city, do the interview and get home.  I made a point to let them know that I am not usually so softly spoken.  Anyway, I missed you all bunches and I'll make sure to check all my peoples blogs on tomorrow.  And despite being an invalid (or maybe because) I said and heard alot of interesting things this week.  Here's a couple to keep all 14 of you entertained...

Trouble to Mommy:  So did Nana (my gramma) make pork chops for you before she was Jewish? 

(I was going to explain this in the tagged post, then I read the rules!  So, my Nana was married three times.  Her last husband was Jewish, not an Israelite a black Jew, and she converted.  My Uncle was actually raised Jewish but he converted to Islam when he got locked up. (that makes me giggle! and it should not be funny, but I can't help it!)  Before that she was also attended a Catholic church and an AME -African Methodist Episcopal.)

Trouble to Hautechick:  Hey, can you ask the Artist if I can come over and use his colored pencils, I got some new coloring books 

(yes I'm dead serious, but they are adult coloring books, one is Mystical Mandalas, one is Erte designs, and the other is decorative tiles)

Mommy to Trouble on my latest purchase a rose gold and black diamond ring:  Ooooooo, it looks too small for you and look at that it fits on my pinky, you should give it to me for my birthday! 

(admittedly she'll be 60 this year, but her birthday isn't until September and I'd like to point out that she told me not to buy it.  (Maybe cause I dont have a job?) I did get it back though, its gorgeous! I think I found my new favorite stone, and black is supposed to absorb the negative energy around you...)

PYT to Trouble (we were kinda on the outs but not really more on that later): You soo don't sound like you grew up in Bed- Stuy, say totally or dude or something....

Trouble to PYT: You're lucky your cute or you would've gotten popped in the mouth for that shit

PYT to Trouble (he was getting his ass kicked at Monopoly handing me two singles):  I always pay the strippers with ones. 

(it sounds fucked up but it was funny when he said it and even funnier when I said the following...)

Trouble to PYT (paying him his rent, I dropped the singles on the floor and said):  Yesssss darling now pick them up slow for Mama

And can I just say if I haven't said it before that I love Snoop Dogg!  Ego Trippin  did not disappoint but I'm renaming "SD is Out" to Oooo Weee.  Thing I can't stop saying "Stacks in my jeans, Phantom up in my garage.  My pockets look like ReRun your pockets look like Rog"

Speaking of poop...

When I was a sophmore in high school, Hautechick was a freshman in college. Since she spent high school locked up at an all girls boarding school, she decided to go to college in NYC and live at home to save some dough. I wanted to kill her for that decision. The main reason was because of our bathroom situation. Three women (well I was a young woman at the time) and one freaking bathroom. Mommy and I had pretty much worked out how to not inconvenience each other when here comes Ms. Stink Booty.

Here would be my typical morning routine in high school; Wake up and wait for Mommy to finish in the bathroom, use the toilet, brush my teeth, start the shower (it was an old house, took awhile for the water to get hot), and as soon as I put both feet in the tub, there would be a knock on the door. "Troub let me in, I have to go to the bathroom!"

The first couple of times I felt sorry for her and let her in. Each and everytime, I wouldn't be able to smell anything for the next 2 hours! I have no idea what the hell she was eating in those days, but boy did my nose sure suffer. Soo, I took to not letting her in. That worked a couple of times, then she decided to get Mommy involved, "Mommy! Trouble won't let me in the bathroom and I reallllllly have to go!" Of course I had to let her in, but usually by this time I would be done with my shower (I think I got it down to about 5 minutes to soap up and rinse off) and just lotion up in my room.

It wasn't until my junior year that I decided to get revenge. I would sneak downstairs to Hautechick's room while Mommy was in the shower. Then I would either sneak into her closet and steal her clothes/shoes/sneakers/bags/etc. or if I knew she got in really late the night before I would just ask her. When she would mumble something back (I told you, I come from a a family of sleep talkers. Just the other night Mommy asked me out of nowhere, "Does it have a finished basement?" She must have been dreaming about her vacation home.) I would take that as a yes and boogie. The clothes were cool and all, but they still didn't make up for all of the singed nose hairs.

Til this day, whenever Hautechick comes over, she always wants to use my bathroom. Doesn't matter that Mommy's apartment has one and a half baths, she still wants to use mine. And if I tell her no, Mommy says, "Oh stop being mean and let your sister use your bathroom!" (I notice that Duke always vacates the premises whenever she gets to pooping)

Endnote: This is kinda gross, but the reason this post popped into my head is cause Hautechick recently told me that she tried that new pro biotic yogurt. You know the one that as Tina Fey put it, makes you poop. Wellll, she sooo did not need to try that. On top of being highly highly regular, she's also a little lactose intolerant. All I have to say is that I feel really sorry that her husband and her co-workers had to go through that genius experiment with her. To them I gift some frankincense, myrrh, and some of that air displacing stuff...

Hot Damn!

Its late but I need to get this out before I forget.  Sorry if it doesn't make too much sense but I dont think I'm going to get much sleep until I get my day off of my chest.  (Current song : Sexual Eruption, Snoop Dogg) What a fucking day.  My interview wasnt until 1 but I was up at 7.  I stared at the ceiling for awhile til I got a huge hairy paw in my face.  Took Duke out, ate a doughnut (mmmm doughnuts), showered and headed upstairs to get dressed.  (And my curls dropped some in the shower!) Wondering why I had to go upstairs to get dressed?  Well, while I live in the studio on the first floor, Mommy occupies a very nice 3 bedroom duplex.   I'm currently keeping my work clothes up there while I continue to renovate my apartment.  Keeps down on the dog hair on them that way too.  Last minute I decided to wear all black.  Good fucking decision.

I'm moving and shaking, even managed to put a coat of neutral polish on my nails.  Then I can't find my mittens.  I love those mittens!  And they go perfectly with my long black shearling coat.  So I settled for some black knit gloves and stuffed a hat into my newish Coach bag.  (Newish cause I bought it in December and haven't ever carried it, til yesterday)  I'm out the house ahead of time and when I hit the subway platform, heres the momo fucking train.  Owww!  I get to the city a full 30 minutes early for my appointment.  Head up to the office and first impression was that maybe I had made a mistake.  The people in the reception area weren't what I would call quality applicants and the former crackhead looking black receptionist was hating on me from the moment I walked in and took the attention of the former crackhead looking dude waiting in the lobby.  Lucky me.  

Then this chick is asking me to fill out an application.  Would someone please explain to me why I have to fill this shit out when I gave yall my resume and all that shit is on there.  And fuck no I'm not giving you the name , cell and HOME phone numbers for references!  Just when I'm thinking this might have been a waste of my time, here comes my Agent.  An adorable incredibly well maintained upper middle aged Italian woman dressed very nicely in ALL BLACK (go Troubsy!) with some funky colorful glasses on.  We head to her cubicle and pictures of her kid, grandkid and her dogs!  

Sidebar: Would someone please explain to me why I have been given the task of changing the opinion of what dreadlocks are?  I sit down and first thing she says is "Ok, first off, I think your gorgeous, but can I ask are those dreadlocks?!  Whatever they are, they're gorgeous..."  15 minutes later, the woman that sits behind her says "Excuse me, your curls are beautiful, I've never seen dreadlocks like yours." (Current Song - Honey, Ms. Badu)  

After about a half an hour of talking to her and doing some MS Office testing (I had to do some mail merge labels LaShay!) what do you know, I'm on my way to interview at this great little company.  I was supposed to meet with the Head of the Company's assistant, but I ended up meeting with her, one of the partners and the Head.  Go Trouble!  Not only would the job give me the opportunity to do something that I really love, but because of my major it would be the perfect place for me to advance as well!  Only thing is I would be taking a pay cut.  Nothing that would hurt me financially, especially since BossMan is still paying me for awhile longer.  But do I really want to go backwards?  On the other hand, the benefits are really really good and one of the perks is that I wouldn't have to pay for breakfast or lunch.

Shit, I mean this company does exactly what I told Mommy I was interested in when she asked me what I Wanted to do.  I might be jumping the gun, but I'm pretty confident that I impressed them.  I mean the fact that they interviewed me alone told me something, since they had stopped interviewing yesterday.  And I was the first person to meet with more than one person that worked there.  The job would be replacing an admin that is relocating to another state.  Her last day is tomorrow....

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...

Hey...

more random shit to keep you entertained til I can get back on my regular grind.

• I have been on a job finding mission as of late.  I sent out a buttload of resumes on Monday and I have an interview tomorrow with an agency.  
• So I have this interview tomorrow and I start pulling out possible outfits.  I know I've told you all this before, but I have way too many clothes for such a small person.  I've narrowed it down to about 3 different outfits and a possible, but it will probably be a game time decision.  I decidedly very quickly against one of my skirt suits, but I will probably wear a skirt.
• I've been feeling kinda strangely about PYT.  Nothing bad, but I just kind of feel like I'm not in control.  I guess its the fact that I went from seeing a potential stalker, to seeing someone who has their own shit to do.  I basically came out and asked him if I was wasting my time or if he really just had other things going on.  Which is about stalkerish as I get.  He said that he really hoped that I didn't feel like I was wasting my time with him and apologized for not spending a little more time with me.  I can't decided if I really like him or if its just cause I hardly leave the house anymore and have nothing better to do.
• I actually did leave the house yesterday and spent about 3 hours in Ikea.  Saw alot of shit I liked including a bar table for my living room and a buffet that would fit perfectly right outside of my kitchen.  Oh and the vanity!  Lord how I feel hard for that vanity.  I think I may ask the Artist to borrow the pick up truck (despite my somewhat frou frou ways, I love a nice pickup truck) and go back and get it this weekend.  I also saw a canopy bed, but it didn't seem sturdy enough to have sex on.  My internal monologue was broken so I actually said this out loud in the store, in front of Mommy and like 3 families.  I was a little embarrassed but went with it and said, "What?  It's not!"
• Mommy got American Hustle from Blockbuster and was quoting Katt Williams all weekend.  That shit was hilarious, both Mommy quoting him and Katt Williams himself.  And damn that Lunelle is fucking funny.
• I found my Daddy's rope chain, straight from the 80s, and I haven't taken it off since I found it.  Its not a really thick one like Nas has been rocking, but its beautiful Italian gold. So I'm stuntin like my Daddy...
• So this is like 2 weeks late (sometimes a little slow) but I think I mentioned that I had loaned Big Mr. Sad a book and after I told him to break yoself fool, I suspected that he was just trying to see me again using the book as an excuse.  So I told him to slide in through my mail slot when he was in the neighborhood.  I even took one of my other hardcover books to the mail slot to make sure it would fit.  I thought it did.  But then I got a call from Sad saying that it didn't and to let him know when I was home and he would drop it off.  So he did and I was on the phone with Cousin T and hit him with the "Thanks.  Take care" and a door slam.  I forgot about the book til I was cleaning up on Sunday and just for kicks I took it to the mail slot.  There I am, 11 pm outside of my house in my pajamas and a down jacket trying to put the book through the mail slot.  The son of a bitch slide right through, fucking bitchass.

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