Monday, August 21, 2006

I Hate You

If it please the court
I'd like 2 have the defendant place her hands behind her back
So I can tie her up tight and get into the act
The act of showing her how good it used 2 be
I want it 2 be so good
She falls back in love with me...
-- Prince

That's some dynamite sex right there.

That "you've might have a new girlfriend but your dick belongs to me" sex.

That "she don't know where your spots are yet, but I ain't forgot" sex.

That "just think of my pussy as Memory Lane" sex.

That empty, wishful thinking, emotionally-wrought cry in the dark.

Yeah...that bomb shit.

Close your eyes
I'm gonna cover your ass with this sheet
And I want U 2 pump your hips like U used 2
And, baby, U better stay on the beat
Did U do 2 your other man the same things that U did 2 me?
Right now I hate U so much I wanna make love until U see
That it's killin' me, baby, 2 be without U
Cuz all I ever wanted 2 do was 2 be with U...
-- Prince

Oh yeah...Nina has definitely tried to fuck her way back into a relationship before. When I was younger...

Crying. Pumping. Clutching. Screaming. Clawing. some shit that was better off dead, but that was all I knew. And all that I wanted.

Incredible how our emotions hold us hostage in hostile territory.

Glad I learned that lesson before I gave out any more Hail Mary pussy.

I'm compassionate to a degree towards the homeless.

Long as you keep it respectful, Nina will keep it respectful for you.

But I'm about to mow down this broke wretch who stands on the corner of 13th & H every evening if she knock on my fuckin' window ONE MO' TIME.

Don't fuckin' touch my SHIT. That's where I feel they cross the fuckin' line. DON'T put your hands on or near my shit.

Next time she do it, I'ma take one of her black ashy legs right. Off.

I watched Fantasia's life story on Lifetime this weekend, and yeah, yeah...I know it lacked much in terms of actual thespian workmanship...but was Nina the only one who gained a newfound respect for the big-lip broad?

I didn't know 'tasia was living hard like that. 'tasia was livin' like a straight ghetto gutter bunny, was she not?

Go on, 'tasia. I'm all for second chances. Third and fourth ones too.

Oh yeah...and I'ma need Sharmba to stop letting HOBO design these boxing skirts he be wearin'.

Either that or stop reppin' D.C.

Cuz as Sonny would say, that shit's not ballin' to me.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

It Keeps You Runnin'

I know what it means to hide your heart
From a long time ago
Oh, darling
It keeps you runnin'...
-- Doobie Brothers

I wish Cingular would stop sending me these yearly mailings talking about that cell phone bill. I'm not paying that shit. I said as much in my letter to their stupid asses.

I'on care who pays it. I'm not.

Over-charging muthafuckas.

Bill collectors will keep your ass runnin' though. If I never get another call from one, it will be too soon.

Not because they disturb me, but because I get a perverse pleasure from fuckin' with their asses. I literally had one tell me "You're sick, Ms. Millimeter."

Stating the obvious for $1000, Alex!

I'm so sick of SonnyRedd's ass...lawd. If that nigga don't stop saying shit "ain't ballin' to him," I'ma lose my muthafuckin' MIND! I laughed for a good HOUR off of that shit, man!

Keep up, keep up...Sonny has a blog I read often. You can find it over there ---->

At any rate...he sittin' in front of me on the Hell Express, and he's wearing 93 Octane cologne.

Them niggas starvin'...

I can't READ it no more!


I'on have a problem with Mo'Nique bein' all fat and shit. That shit don't bother me. Not even that malarky about her being fat and HEALTHY. *insert eye roll here*
But why she gotta sound all fuckin' fat? Huh? Sound like she gargle with butter and shit.

I'ma need her voice to go on a diet. Fat fucka her.

You're still a young man
Baby, don't waste your time
-- You're Still A Young Man, Tower of Power

I like the slender tenders. I will fuck wit' a baby or two. 22? You old enough for me. I'll gi' you some.

...though, objectively, I don't recommend that younger men date older women. The succubi that we are. You'll learn alot, but at what cost? 25 year olds should do what 25 year olds do.

But in the event that you don't take my me.

Generous portions of grapes and cherries will keep you running as well.



I didn't get to see the season opener of "Celebrity Fit Club," but I'm mad in advance at Carnie "Fat Ass" Wilson.

How the fuck you gon' put your life on the line and have a gastric bypass operation, and then fuck around and get fat again? That's some pressed shit. Food ain't that serious, Carnie.

Didn't her momma and daddy tell her that Mama Cass choked on a chicken bone?

Though my sister's version had her chokin' on a chitlin'.

Her fat ass choked on something! Does it really matter?

Wednesday, August 02, 2006


Talkin' 'bout that happiness
Whole lot of lovin' without the stress
You're not my only, but my favorite
I tried to let go but I can't forget...
-- Jaheim O's lovesick ass comes traipsing over here tryna spread love, instead of spreadin' lies...

And I dare say he challenged me to talk about happy shit.

I'ma try. Ain't too happy right now though. I'm just a'ight.

But here goes...

There are some of the things, upon flitting across the backs of my eyelids, evoke a smile in me. A smile deep down inside of me. Might not show. But I like these things. Not quite sure if they meet the threshold of "happy," but fuck it.

Best I can do right now.

Looking at Daddy's snaggle-tooth smile, with his missing front tooth.

Teaching my niece how to put her fist up and say "White Power!" To white people.

Cheese grits. (My southern momma would never DARE let us put cheese in our grits, so this novelty is quite new for me)

Talking shit across a spades or dominoes game.


Having something new in the closet, tags still on, and no particular place to wear it. Just have it.

Cold pillowcases.

Getting stuck on a groove. (Like right now, I'm so stuck to Van Hunt's "Suspicion," it's sickening. I can't listen to anything else.)

Finding money in my hamper.

That first swig of ice-cold Gatorade.

The touch of my freshly-shaved legs.

Supported silence. (Ask me about that another day)

The comforting voice of a true friend.

Gain detergent.

Welp, O. You can die, having lived a truly fulfilled life now.

Nina got some shit that makes her smile. You ain't got the lock on joy!