Tuesday, March 20, 2007

What Kind Of Fuckery Is This?

You can't keep lying to yourself like this (to yourself)
Can't believe you played yourself (out) like this...
-- Amy Winehouse

That's how I greeted Mister's day-late-and-a-dollar-short call to me this evening.

My daddy in the hospital, and your selfish muthafuckin' ass ain't called me since your vain ass started packin' for the DR last Wednesday.

That's just some...unacceptable shit.

See, these are the flags that go up that make me think you ain't ready to marry me. Shit, you ain't ready to marry nobody, you asshole.

Can't think of nobody but your damn self.

The BAD thing about it is I hadn't even realized he HADN'T called until Saturday. Cuz that's just how busy I been with my pappy, but damn.

How fuckin' easygoing do a bitch gotta be?

What kind of fuckery are we?
Nowadays you don't mean dick to me (dick to me)
I might let you make it up to me (make it up)...

I'm not tripping, but it's one of those cases where it's the principle of the gotdamn thing, and I just might trip cuz it's my fuckin' right to trip, and somebody need to trip on that selfish, rotten ass of his for him to understand why he got it so fuckin' good with a tripless bitch like me.

But he'on see it.

Sometimes...sometimes, you just gotta kirk the fuck out on some theatrical shit just cuz a muthafucka don't deserve a non-triptical experience.

Butterbean ass nigga.

Yeah, I said it.


*pushing the air*

I've got insomnia again.

If I had thought about it earlier, I would have taken me two sleeping pills so that I'd have a fighting chance at a good night's rest.

But I was too busy chompin' on a Whopper, in between puffs.

The girlies are free
Cuz the crack costs money, oh yeah!
I said the girlies are free
Cuz the crack costs money, oh yeah...
P is Free, Boogie Down Productions

Like a fiend, I found two sample packets of Bextra that my doctor had given me before the recall in one of my night table drawers, and a bitch was HAPPY.

Ok...maybe happy ain't the word.

A bitch was GEEKED.

Even had the nerve to clutch them to my chest.

On some fiend type shit...

But you'on know what I know.

Bextra was that only shit that got this pain out of my arm. Bursitis is what she called it. And rightly, I'on give a fuck what it is...I just want it gone.

And...I got 5 more pills with my pain's name on it.

Don't be lookin' at me like that. Tell it to my momma.

She dead tho'...


Blogger Berry said...

I didn't know you were still ranting and raving. Sorry to hear about your dad. Hope you go back to kissing the air stuff real soon.

March 20, 2007 12:02 PM  
Blogger Amadeo said...

Fuckery is the right word. I know I'm bad at keeping in touch...but certain people you know you gotta call and I make sure I hit them up.

March 21, 2007 11:28 AM  
Blogger Peach said...

I DIG THE HELL out of Amy Winehouse. I dont know you enough to tell you anything, but sometimes people need to be tripped on...or at least "dropped subtle hints"

March 30, 2007 3:12 PM  
Blogger Carmen said...

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March 31, 2007 2:16 PM  
Blogger Omar said...

Sorry to hear about your pop, though given this is a month and a half after you wrote it, I assume he has recovered and you are better.

As for the dude, all I can say is wow. And as for the bextra, just be careful. The pharm company did a big recall or something on Bextra and some other stuff awhile back because of some bad reactions.

May 09, 2007 10:38 AM  
Blogger Monie said...

Great blog. Hope your dad is doing better...

May 18, 2007 9:20 AM  

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