Tuning you into not-the-mother wit, insight into your blindness, knowledge of your ignorance, and various and sundry profundities untold.
Basically, I'm just talking shit...
In the months you haven't heard from me, I've...changed. Not so much that you won't recognize me, so don't trip. But update your blogrolls, and come visit me. I'm on an all-white block, and you know they waitin' for me to throw some chicken bones on the curb. See you there!
You make a bitch wanna snatch the cat back How you gonna act when I snatch the cat back? I wish I never let you hit it from the back Cuz now I wanna snatch the cat back... -- Khia
Oh, what a perfectly ignorant way for me to make a comeback.
Snatch the cat back, eh? Really?
Let's see...
I would snatch the cat back from Keenan and his anal, sexually-repressed ass. Nice piece, nice thickness. Jive yummy in that area, but the hang-ups this fool had? Lawd. I couldn't enjoy myself for all of the rules I had to adhere too. Huh? Can I enjoy this shit? Damn. And he was hella jealous too. Last time I almost saw him, I called him while he was on his way over and told him naw...I changed my mind. I want to end up in somebody's lunchbox over a fuck. Keenan looked like the type to cut me into coldcuts.
You make a bitch wanna snatch the cat back...
I'd snatch it back from Darren too. What grown ass man has bald pubes? Took his pants down and shorty was butter-b-ball nekkid 'round his hither parts. I looked up at him, Where's the hair? Long silence. I like it bald, he said. I suddenly felt unsexy. Well my shit ain't bald. I'm grown. I got pubes, I offered. Let's just get that shit straight right here and now. S'posed to be some hair down there. But then again, this was the same dude that had a taste for my toes and who I had to lock the bathroom door with cuz he would sneak in and watch me wipe myself. Now Nina likes a little kink, but let me wipe myself in peace, ya dig?
You make a bitch wanna snatch the cat back...
Took his draws down and I 'clare I thought Rod reached down and tried to shake my hand. Tiger-print draws, and he had a leopard hiding in there. The schlong on this man! Mama-say-mama-saw-mama-coo-saw! I can't take...all...of...that, I muttered. He snickered, Oh yeah you can. And oh yeah, I could. And ooh..um. *gyrating* Oooh, lawd, yeah I could. *gyrating* And just when, and just when, I could really take it...he took it. And ugh. That leopard morphed into a sleeping dog. And it ain't bark no more that night. Lazy big dick mu'fuckas make me sick.
You make a bitch wanna snatch the cat back...
I have no idea why I was so crazy about Carlos. No, I know what it was. He was entirely and completely arrogant. God, I love that in a man. Ugly as 10 miles of bad road, but if you were a toilet, you couldn't tell him he wasn't the SHIT, ya heard? Loved it. E was tryna get down with me, but he was moving too slow, so I let Carlos do what he did best, and kick his best game to me. Took me home after a party (after I unceremoniously blew my boys off), and attempted to sweat my Cream of Nature out. Damndest thing though...every angle he hit -- hurt. No, he wasn't packin' like that. Straight average. Just had the most hurtin' dick I have ever experienced. EVER angle hurt. Every one. I thought he must have little barbs on his shit, cuz I'm like...why in the world am I in pain? Then after I soldiered through the vaginal irritation of it all, this ugly muthafucka gon' talk shit.
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.
Move.
*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.
We live from the head down and not the feet up And I'm adorned with the crown that's making this up And I'm fine under cloud 9... -- Donnie
I have been having a torrid love affair with life lately.
Waking up, and just kissing the air And hugging the wind Gazing at myself longingly in the...
Yeah, well. Um, you get the picture.
Just being gloriously and deliriously happy with myself. Cuz you know, I realize the more I come into contact with other people that I'm pretty fuckin' remarkable.
I mean, I got cause to be here. My existence brightens shit up. Yanno?
Ok...now that I've run my commercial...
She can't do the things I do to you, No one is loving you the way, the way I love you She can't be everything you need and what you need is me Coz its the way I love you... -- The Way I Love You, Tamia
Alot of women approach shit in this manner. As though they have the patent on loving. How you know if she can't love him the way you did?
Does it ever dawn on them that the way you were lovin' him is what drove that muthafucka right down the street?
I'm just sayin'...
I know personally, as many times as I've seen the brakelights of a past lover drivin' down the highway of my love, that somebody gon' love him.
And if not as much as I do...better.
I'm inherently competitive, but I need to compete on things that are stagnant and constant. Some measurable shit.
Not no love.
Drive yourself crazy tryna compete with somebody else's love.
Hey...if what I was giving you ain't meet your specifications, then tip out on that shit then.
Fuck you lookin' at me for.
I'm never upset when I gave my best.
Tell me who's gonna take The heartbreak I took (nobody) And still be there at the close of the book When you've grown older and lost your way And all your rainbows have turned to gray You better stop and think about what you're doing You better stop and think about what you're doing... -- You're Gonna Need Me, Dionne Warwick
See! That shit never works! When the nigga leave you, he ain't thinking 20 years down the road. He's just thinking about getting.away.from.your.mouth.today.
That's all he's thinking about ladies.
Cutting off the broken faucet of your shrill, and incessant voice.
And I can speak on that shit, cuz I got one helluva SHRILL, incessant voice.
Gotta love men for their simplicity!
There's this really fat lady at my job.
And yanno...it's not the problem that she's fat.
I mean, her greasy hair is pretty fuckin' disgusting, but even that isn't as bad
...as all that muthafuckin' fluid in her legs.
It looks like she put a shoe on the end of her thigh.
I'm serious, yo...no bullshittin'.
And that made me...like. Instantly.
Not like her.
I know it's cruel. I know it. But I.can't.handle.looking.at.her.
Aren't I allowed my prejudices?
Fuckouttaherewitcher morality.
So here I be.
Insanely and deliciously crass.
Lovin' the skin that I'm in.
Marinatin' in my own juices.
I don't want to be Anything other than what I've been trying to be lately All I have to do Is think of me and I have peace of mind I'm tired of looking 'round rooms Wondering what I've got to do Or who I'm supposed to be I don't want to be anything other than me... -- I Don't Wanna Be, Gavin DeGraw
The children Need something With more substance And more meaning A message, intended To leave them with something much more to believe in Now its cool for us to say All the things we say and do All the things we do to express ourselves But we should, try to find a way To bring balance to this hate and Leave a good impression on someone else... -- Musiq Soulchild
My niece sent me a scripture, bless her heart. Amazing that the baby that I rocked and changed is a grown woman herself. Mother of her own.
Sending her Auntie a scripture. Just cuz she thought it was something I needed to read.
That type of shit makes this all worth it.
'Cause in this world There isn't much love goin around We should try to, give a little bit more There isn't much love goin around (We should try) We should try to give a little bit more -- Givemorelove, Musiq
I prayed for the first time in umpty ump the other day, because I seriously want to start this year in a more positive light.
I fully admit to myself that I'm carting around too much baggage with me.
Shit, I ain't even gonna call it baggage. The shit's luggage.
And it's not the luggage that you would expect a sophisticate such as myself to be totin' around either.
I got Puerto Rican luggage.
Issues and problems and challenges and shortcomings and flaws and past pains and lowered expectations all packed up into these crummy little bags of ego-plastic.
I can't go nowhere I can't be the same I don't know my name I can't understand just Why It seems to hang on... -- It Seems To Hang On, Ashford & Simpson
I'm having a "awww hell naw" moment here. Bear with me.
So acknowledgement's the first step, eh?
So anyway...back to God.
I miss Him, I do. And I figure...how far from the vine must I be when I find it hard to get on my knees and let it go?
Not really sure that I want to know the distance I've traveled these last four years.
Just content to go to hell, eh?
Hell isn't even relevant to me right now. And that's just it. I need it to be relevant to me. I need at least the concept (not the probability that there is such a place) to motivate me to LIVE better.
Because I said the other day, pain is no excuse to live badly.
So the days of living badly have been conveniently double-knot tied into the Puerto Rican luggage that I left on the curbside of 2006 Boulevard.
And I'm walking into 2007...unabashed. Unafraid. And untied.
I'm scared.
They say your attitude determines your latitude I'm high as a motherfucker Fly as a motherfucker And still the motherfucker you love to hate But can't Because you love what I make Now ain't that about a bitch... -- Brand New, Rhymefest
My knees might be shakin', but as fast as I walked my ass out of 2006...
I'm enchanted with Li'l Wayne's primordially simian ass. I'd put a big fat hickie...on you guessed it.
That Adam's pomegranate of his. Umm hmmm.
No, for real. I'd fuck Li'l Wayne. Repeatedly, noisily, and without inhibition.
I'd even let him do me in the butt.
Heh.
Now that I've had my crass moment of the day, I'm gonna attempt this meme. This nosy ass meme. If I get annoyed in the middle, and abruptly derail from the scheduled program, and start talkin' some crazy shit...you know the deal.
1. FIRST NAME? Nina
2. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? Naw.
3. WHEN DID YOU LAST CRY? Friday. Cried my ASS off, as a matter of fact.
4. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? My handwriting is beautiful. All loopy, and perfectly measured letters that I line up in my mind, and girly. Most people think I've taken some kind of calligraphy classes, but naw...it's from practice. My mother told me growing up that a female should have flawless penmanship. Like...it was some woman "code." I guess it was part practice and part genetics. But I'm sure you're tripping more on the fact that I went on and on about this shit. What can I say? Handwriting is one of my "things."
*Translation of "things" -- shit Nina obsesses about*
5. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCHMEAT? Not a big lunchmeat eater, but I will fuck up some Dietz & Watson's Black Forest Smoked Turkey deli lunch meat. And I love salami as well, but I just don't buy it that often. I usually raid all of my Dad's salami out of his fridge.
6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? Absolutely. I'm a maven...and a connector. And a helluva resourceful nigga to have in my rolodex. Hell yeah, I'd be my friend.
7. DO YOU HAVE A JOURNAL? Naw...I'on put SHIT in my own handwriting. This shit here? Man...I can deny this shit.
8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? Yep.
9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? Definitely not. I don't do heights.
10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? Total Raisin Bran (once it gets nice and soggy). Oh, and Frosted Mini-Wheats comes a close second.
11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? Rarely.
12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? Physically? I'm pretty strong for a girl. Mentally strong? Questionable. Emotionally strong? Definitely, but only in the retrospect.
13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR? Butter Pecan.
14. SHOE SIZE? 6 1/2.
15. RED OR PINK? Is that a trick question? PINK, of course.
16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? My impulsiveness, especially when I'm ill-equipped to control it.
17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? My grandmother. Though my momma's gone now too, I don't think she'd approve too much of the asshole that I've become. I'm sure we'd be at odds with each other, and I'm even more certain that I would have pushed her in her pea-head for talkin' shit to me by now. But I was and I am crazy about her, and honor her for holding on for 9 years to raise me to a point where I could manage (relatively well) on my own wits. So I'll have to say my Nonie, cuz my Nonie wasn't tryna be all up in my face about shit. She was just tryin' to show me shit through her eyes. And I could talk to her about some real shit, and not get judged, antagonized and manipulated into doing things her way. Plus, she's the one I had the longer relationship with. I'on know...the more I try to explain it, the more it sounds fucked up, but somebody out there feels me.
Or not.
Anyway...
18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU? My self-absorbed ass didn't send this to anyone else. It's all about me and what I think.
19. WHAT COLOR PANTS, SHIRT AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? I got on what I call a housedress. Yeah...you old school muthafuckas know what that is. It's a dress like thing that I wear -- DUH -- in the muthafuckin' house. And it's gray with red, pink & cream stripes. No shoes.
20. LAST THING YOU ATE? A nasty ass steak chalupa from Taco Bell.
21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? Fantasia's new CD. I'ma talk about that in the New Year, so stay tuned for that.
22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Bronze. Do they even got bronze crayons? Well...that's what the fuck I would be. Bronze.
23. FAVORITE SMELL? Gain detergent, freshly shampooed hair, and a baby fresh out of the tub.
24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? My sister.
25. THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE YOU ARE ATTRACTED TO? Their mouth. The lips, mostly. I'm not a stickler on teeth since I don't have Osmond chops, so I've been known to fuck with a choppy-toothed muthafucka err'y now and then. Long as his lips cover them nicely...yeah. I can fuck with that.
26. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON you stole THIS from? I like Berry's blog persona alot. And that's sayin' alot, cuz I'm jive hard on people for real. On the 'net or off.
27. FAVORITE DRINK? Sweet tea or Pepsi.
28. FAVORITE SPORT? BOXING!
29. EYE COLOR? Dark brown.
30. HAT SIZE? The size that fits.
31. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? Yep.
32. FAVORITE FOOD? I'on have favorite...foods and shit. I like food. Period.
33. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? Scary movies!
35. SUMMER OR WINTER? Summer.
36. HUGS OR KISSES? Kisses.
37. FAVORITE DESSERT? There we go with that favorite food shit thing again. I like sweets, period. I really dig banana pudding, yellow cake with chocolate frosting, german chocolate cake, rice pudding, and I just got turned onto key lime pie. YUM!
40. WHAT BOOKS ARE YOU READING? I'm about to pick up Eric Jerome Dickey's "The Other Woman" and "Too Beautiful for Words" by Monique W. Morris and read them at the same time. That's another one of my "things" -- I'm too impatient to read one at a time, so I'll read two at a time. Sometimes three.
41. WHAT’S ON YOUR MOUSE Pad? Don't have one.
42. WHAT DID YOU WATCH LAST NIGHT ON TV? Tombstone, with Kurt Russell and Val Kilmer. Val Kilmer FUCKS me up with that Doc Holliday character. I 'clare that's one of my all-time favorite roles in LIFE. He's brilliantly hilarious within a serious role.
43. FAVORITE SOUNDS? The best sound is silence.
44. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? Beatles.
45. THE FURTHEST YOU’VE BEEN FROM HOME? Cali? I know. I ain't as cosmopolitan as my ego needs to be.
46. WHAT’S YOUR SPECIAL TALENT? I'm of superior intelligence.
47. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? Ok, whoever wrote this shit must have run out of stuff to ask.
48. WHO SENT THIS TO YOU? I "borrowed" it from Berry's blog.
Ok.
Now I want the 20 minutes of my life spent doing that^^ shit back.
Guess its 'bout time I'm due another love Messing with this nigga got me falling apart I don't wanna be someone I know I'm not... -- Teedra Moses
Okay, so I done thrown the longest fuckin' pity party in all of D. world's history.
I had hats, favors -- you know them little things that you blow, and the paper folds out and then back in -- and 'loons.
Even had clowns. And Nina don't fuck with clowns.
Pennywise fucked that shit up for me forever.
...but I did have them shits at my party. I just wasn't fuckin' with none of 'em.
And now the candles have been blown out, and the cake has been cut.
And I'm done with that shit. Or at least that's what I told God, and that's the story I'm stickin' with.
I got Thing 1 and Thing 2 to clean err'thang all up the way I had it before
...and for now. Shit is right tidy.
If I get any more depressed, I'ma be pushin' up daisies. So it's wrap for that shit.
Got it? A fuckin' wrap!
I just wanna be Happy, sipping, puffing, passing Relaxing with my family No more tears for you... -- No More Tears, Teedra Moses
I was so pressed for a drink this evening that I started to pour some Goose in my Crystal Light Peach Iced Tea.
Yeah. I know, right...
I stared at that glass for all of 2 minutes and decided that I wasn't quite at the brink of self-destruction, like I thought I had been.
More like the porch of my own self-destruction, but not quite in the house.
So I put the Goose back in the freezer, and watched "Dick in the Box" for the 50-11th time, and got my high that way.
You know your weed is old when that you break that shit down and it turns into powder in between your fingers.
I couldn't even get the tobacco out of my Swisher Sweets before I tore them dry fuckas to all be damned.
Can a nigga get high? FUCK!
When I feel You...dreamin' I think of sunsets How high, my high gets... -- Everlasting Love, Chaka Khan
If I wasn't as vain as hell, and practical...I'd probably be a drug addict.
Now wait. Now I know that sounds bad.
But gotdamnit, ain't NOTHING like a drug-induced stupor to put shit into it's proper perspective and light.
I'm trying to get my tolerance up to the point where I can actually manuever the car satisfactorily when I'm fucked up.
I can get used to being soiled, stankin' and broke, I'm sure. I mean...how hard can that shit be? If I'm fucked up all day...would I notice?
Once I figure that out, oh...it's on.
Crack whoredom, here I come.
Wake up baby Cant you see I'm half insane Wake up baby Cuz you know I'm not to blame... -- Wake Up Baby, Lisa Stansfield
Half?
PAH!
Try whole.
I'm fully convinced at this point that I'm functionally deranged. And brilliant as fuck, but see...that's what feeds my psychosis.
I know too fuckin' much.
Is it just suspicion Or woman's intuition? I can't tell But it takes one to know one And she know me too well... -- Suspicion, Van Hunt
That's all I do is watch people. I watch the shit that people say. I watch the shit that people do. And then I balance that shit.
Some of it's my gut, and the rest of it is...you.
Yeah...you.
Oh yeah, I heard what you said. And I understood that your intention was for me to believe that shit, but the.shit.don't.add.up.
You can put wings on a pig, but that don't make that muthafucka a bird.
Stop playin'.
You think just because you told her from the get-go Now that it's over she can be like you and let it go When she laid with you, she broke you off a piece of her spirit She tried to tell you when you met her how she was and Now you're caught up in this fatal attraction You can't pretend like This isn't partly your fault... - Stop Playin', Anthony David
Box? What box? To think outside of the box, I'd have to acknowledge that there IS a box, right? Well. I'm random as hell, what can I say. Get used to it. I love kettle corn, God, Hennessey, silence, men, words, and peppermint patties...not necessarily in that order.
If only to hear Londee belt out Forever, this CD is a must-have in any music collection that is geared towards the most poignant vocalization of the 70's R&B scene. If not for Leslie's cum-compelling rendition of Dream Merchant, she would have but stolen the entire show.
This Is The Type Of Shit I Would Say
I'm Da Baddest Bitch
Can't nothin' change that
Every nigga that I fucked
They done came back... -- Trina
