The Good, the Bad & the Semi-Literate

So, thing is, I am obsessed with tracking this site. Seriously. I got a great new hit counter. It's really amazing. Just a few thoughts.... To the 2am - 7am readers... Get some sleep. Shit. 4am is way too late to be up. I can see you. No, really. This thing is grabbin IP addresses. Quit reading my blog and take your ass back to work. Especially you government motherfuckers. (That's my tax dollars at work damn it.) I love how many of you are going directly to this shit without being redirected from myspace or facebook. Thats love right there. Foreigners.... YOU ROCK!!! I'm international in this bitch! Students. Stop reading and pay attention to the teacher. I see how many people come here a day. If you think or feel some shit about something I wrote, Please feel free to leave a comment. I LOVE COMMENTS. I love to hear what yall think about the stupidity that I come up with. Ummmm, I gotta go be productive now.... But have a nice day tho..... KISSES!!!

I didn't get laid. But I also didnt finish my people math either. I recently got busy. I have something in the works right now. So you get left over randoms, that I compiled during my hair appointment yesterday. Don’t leave me Voicemails: I don’t check them. I have 3 from this weekend in my phone right now. I figure, if you left a voicemail, it was because you couldn’t reach me. Talking to me was your preference, but you settled for voicemail so I figure, calling you back is like 10 times better than listening to the fuck ass voicemail that you left. When in doubt, if you think I might not see the missed call, feel free to text me. I heart text messages…. I wanna give Lil Wayne the drawz. Yes, he is a crack head. But he is a functional crackhead. And not everyone can function on crack. So kudos to Lil Wayne. Kudos. If there is any doubt in your mind as to whether he is on crack or not, check out the lyrics to the “Crying out for me” remix. I take horrible pictures. Sorry. I'm

The level of blogging you get out of me all depends on what else I have going on. Really. It all depends. I like my blogs to be entertaining, well researched, edited and formatted. Sometimes I don’t have time for that shit, and you only get max 2 blogs a week. Lots of shit goes down in my life that prevents me from getting my write on, which if I could, I would do daily. For instance: Sometimes I get busy: This week has been hell. 11 hour days. The end of the month always sucks because: I am always behind on my timesheet and I suck at keeping track of my billable hours I have a minimum billable hour goal. I don’t know why. I’m not a fucking lawyer. Fuck it. End of the month closeout is fuckery Paying rent is depressing Every month they give me a new project. The due date for this project always fucking coincides with closeout. With all this going on, I’m lucky if I can remember to eat. Sometimes I get laid: And if I'm getting laid, I do not fucking care to write a damn thing. Also

The Tale of Thickness Thickness and I dated probably roughly 6 months ago. Thickness lived in New Jersey and I became acquainted with her through my father. She is sassy and he felt that we would get along. Thickness comes from a family that has a proclivity for shanking people. No, seriously. Her father went to prison for stabbing someone to death. Her sister is currently in prison for stabbing someone. She has on numerous times told my father (in regards to something that I may or may not have done) “Don’t that bitch know, I Will Kill Her Ass?” Now, her temper and tendency to default to violence would be an automatic two strikes, if she wasn’t SO FUCKIN THICK. And not just in the hips, but lips as well, with a lil ass waist. Loves football. Has no use for men unless they’re cakin her and is completely unapologetic in the manner in which she will cuss you the fuck out. And come to think of it, if she was just Thick , she’d lose part of her charm. Cuz she’s smart as hell. And sassy

The Time Dave sold me Darryl * for 5 dollars (aka Coke is the New Weed) I have a handful of male friends who have lasted me through the ages. I’d say 3 really good ones. I can call them up and they get me. They actually really understand me. They never trip. If I overbook and have to bump them, it’s never a problem. They understand the concept of obligations and are always willing to reschedule. I can talk to them about whatever and if I am having a testosterone flair up, they are the BEST people to talk to cuz they have seen me at my best and my worst of plotting and scheming. They have helped me out more than once when I am trying to pull off a bit of pimptrickery and never once has there been an ounce of hate if I were to turn to one of them and say “Yo, what’s good wit ya Boy?” . They hold it down unequivocally and that is cause for celebration. One who has lasted throughout the ages is Dave. I’ve know Dave since 1999. We met and spent probably the equivalent of a year hanging ou

I learned a whole lot this Easter weekend. Some of it was from church. Some of it was from Podcast sermons (I need extra Jesus, because tho I look real innocent, I am not in fact a good girl. Shocking, I know. I need so much Jesus that just when I think I can put myself on good girl Jesus Auto pilot, next thing you know I’m almost arrested or entertaining some semi-legal and completely immoral proposition…..But that’s beside the point.) I also learned quite a few things from the two women who were drunk on Mimosas sitting across from me and my cousin as Sequoia’s for brunch. I will now dispense the shit I learned. Apparently if you give two 30-something women Mimosas and let them run loose, it is a little like watching an up close and personal “Waiting to Exhale”. Hiding shit from God is stupid… He already knows everything. And he already forgave you. I can walk into a church without immediately bursting into flames. I don’t like the Hymn part of church and when they skip the s

Saturday afternoon randoms. There are 2 movies in this world that never disappoint me : Clueless and Bring it on (the original not the numerous straight to video bastardizations). Clueless is classic 90’s. And Bring it on is the best. They never promised you Shakespeare. Just cheering and spandex. And boy, did they deliver. This guy I know (Joe New Jersey) said the most homosexual thing I ever heard, but shit, I’ll let you be the judge. Joe is this 300 lb burly New jersey guy, accent and all. Joe said (mind you, no one asked and this was completely out of the blue): "I’d let a dude fuck me up the ass for a million dollars. I could use the money and I shit things bigger than most dudes dicks.” I, in turn, looked at Joe like this: Because the thought of Joe taking dick up his hairy man anus was entirely too much to bear. When you take an HIV test or a Pregnancy test and the results are negative, its odd. Cause a Negative result is really positive news if you think about it. So

This is a little more personal than the other shit I normally write. It’s probably not funny. It’s not supposed to be. But it’s about the realest 20 minutes I ever lived. So here it goes. So I get this call, saying immune systems might not be up to par. Simultaneously as I am finding out that the object of my affection was putting his affection elsewhere last night, I’m hearing that I need to go get tested to make sure I’m not dying. Talk about a reality check. And I’m thinking…. Was it worth it? Was any of it worth it? Cuz I’m at this clinic, waiting for this test. Of all the things I’m trying to figure out: how many at risk motherfuckers have I been with…. That Playgirl Centerfold? The Pro Athlete? Were these sexy trophies bound to be the death of me? And I’m pondering one of my favorite quotes: "My memory is well filled with stale smoke left over from mistakes I made while hunting down secrets to rescue myself from waves of darkness" -excerpt from Gordon Parks Poem "

Randoms from last nite (and essentially not enough for a real blog) That guy, in the red, in the VIP: OFFERED TO BUY ME (not a drink, broke ass bitches) A CONDO. Fuck T-pain. Fuck buying me a drink. That’s not ballerific. That’s not whats hot in the streets. Offer to cop me property. That’s what tha fuck is up… And you know he got my number…… BALLIN’ One chardonnay (okay), Two (still not that bad), topping that off with Moet and whatever tha fuck those red shooters were…. Not too hot. I hurt. Getting hoisted up by a 20 year old…. Crazy. Seeing 2 people from high school and 1 from college. Cool shit. The only way to club is posted in the DJ booth, real talk. Thanks Money. (I hate to sweat. Always. Weighted squats + Stillettos = not fun... I hurt. To the white guy in the glasses. You wrong for sayin you were from the ATL and then laughing when I guessed your ass lived in Alpharetta. That hair move, not too slick. Lisa, I got drunk and left your coat in my homeboys car. Ill get it

"30 Rock" (2006) {Pilot (#1.1)} Tracy Jordan: You know how pissed off I was when U.S. Weekly said that I was on crack? That's racist! I'm not on crack - I'm straight-up mentally ill! "Boondocks, The" (2005) {The Itis (#1.10)} Riley: [after eating The Luther] Whoa. This is what crack must feel like. "Chappelle's Show" (2003) – A varitable cornucopia of Crack jokes Tyrone Biggums: Remember what the Bible says: He who is without sin, cast the first rock. And I shall smoketh it. Tyrone Biggums: ...and that, kids, was the first time I sucked a dick for crack. Tyrone Biggums: [hands full of money] Crack, here I come. AND MY FAVORITE Tyrone Biggums: Why do you think I carjacked you, Rhonda? Rhonda: 'Cause the cops found you in it three hours later asleep, high on crack! Tyrone Biggums: That's impossible, Rhonda. How can you sleep when you're high on crack? Chinese riddle for you. "Cold Case” (2006) {The River (#3.22)} Ni

I am PMS (kinda like that Movie I AM LEGEND) I am PMS and therefore I hope you all die. No. Seriously. To those who just don’t seem to get it, let me make it clear ONE LAST TIME: I will never answer my phone when you call. I think you are a pushy self righteous asshole. Thanks for not arresting me. Done. It’s a wrap. Leave me alone. I do not wish to know you any further and I would rather slit my wrists than have a long drawn out discussion about why you feel that we should be friends. You are now referred to in all passing conversations as “That dude who is buggin and won’t stop texting me”. I don’t care how you feel, just as blatantly as you don’t give a fuck how I feel because rather than going away, you’re still contacting me. So onward to the countdown to when I change my mother fucking number. You bastards. I am PMS. I still hope you all die and if can speed that up by ripping off your arms and beating you to death with them, well so be it. I am a heinous bitch. I will not be a

Why is it wrong to laugh at ugly babies? It’s not like the babies know. And if the only reason I’m not laughing at ugly babies is so that my baby doesn’t turn out ugly, well…. That is just not a good enough reason. I am all about fidelity. I’m a huge fan of it. But I have to say, I like the thought that someone I am seeing is fucking someone else. Get that basis of comparison. Get mad that she's not me. Appreciate what you have. I love the phrase “Better the devil you know, than the devil you don’t know”. I do what I do because I can and you don’t do what I do because you can't. But if you could, you would. Don’t be mad at me because you can't and I can. Fuckin haters. You either choose or get chose. I like to be chose BUT I choose who I am willing to be chose by. Just because you choose to choose me, doesn’t mean I am willing to be chose by you. Don’t be mad if I choose to be chose by someone else. I run this cuz im picky and I’m bitchy. I only allow people I respect to to

Weird ass shit that I saw yesterday. Yesterday was kind of off. Seriously off. I woke up at 6 am and got in my car to go home. I was really thirsty so I stopped off at this Food Mart in Largo or Bladensburg or one of those fuckin places… Bowie maybe? I was hoping for a 7-11 but that shit wasn’t gonna happen. At that point I was tired, dehydrated and disheveled. I got 3 drinks - Cherry Lemonade (which is still in my fridge), a Diet 7-Up (which was OK) and Diet Chocolate Cherry Dr. Pepper (which I am unable to recommend to anyone.) I also picked up a bottle of vinegar. My sink is stopped up and if you pour baking soda in there and then vinegar cover it tightly, the fizz clears the blockage and the sink will drain. (Try it. It works). Anyway, I go to the counter and witness the most bizarre fucking conversation between this Drunk/High man who was playing Keno and the woman behind the counter. It went like this: Drunk/High Man: Do you ever play Keno? Woman behind the Counter: No. Is bad

My shrink says some of the most amusing shit. This is one of the reasons that I pay him egregious amounts of money, so that he will tell me the shit that I am entirely too dense to absorb of my own accord. So my shrink says, "Jeanetta, it is possible to trust someone and not be gullible." Hmmm…. Now my first reaction to this was to think "Wow! That sounds like some shit you'd say to a gullible motherfucker, to get them to let their guard down so you could fuck em over." This is quite possibly the LEAST trusting reaction that someone could have to the advice that my shrink gave me. I honestly was sitting around trying to figure out his angle. I mean, I trust him. But only because I pay him for that Doctor/Patient privileged shit. He’s like legally bound to keep my secrets and I like that shit. I don’t trust damn near anybody. If my mother called me today and asked me for my social, the first words out of my mouth would be "What you need that for?" The

RANDOMS! Anytime I see any church spread out on a big ass piece of land with more than 3 buildings, I assume that whatever organization that is, is really a cult and that the big ass plot of land constitutes their "Compound". When asked a question, my default answer is no. I find that declining is often the best answer..... For instance: “Can I stick ants up your ass?” NO! Always a safe bet. Nextel is by far the shittiest phone service ever. I called a Nextel user and they told me in both English and Spanish to "Please hold while the Nextel subscriber you are trying to reach is located". You know the service is shitty when they have to be bilingual when they tell you they suck. If someone attempts to have sex with you without a condom, you should sincerely ask yourself "What god awful disease this person have that they don't give a fuck about the chance of catching some new shit." Assume AIDS and run away. I have a rating scale of STD's: 1st t

The Economics of Penis and why you’re not as freaky as you thought you were. Pussy is a commodity. Always has been, always will be. Men buy pussy. They also buy anus sometimes but that’s a story for another day. Anyway, I have this theory: Nothing would have ever been accomplished by Men in this world had it not be for the pursuit of vagina. No wars would have been fought, no lights invented, Not a dollar made and best believe there would be no Wall Street. Pussy makes the world go round. You can try and argue this but I think it holds true. Men move out of their parents houses, get nice cars, clothes and jobs, all for pussy. If it wasn't for pussy, they would all be sitting around in dirty smiley face boxers with their dicks hanging out of the slit watching TV in their mother's basements. Jay-Z said it best when he said: The power of the P-U-S-S-Y, Thatz why every mutherfucka in the world dress fly. Every baller that can afford it they cop the best ride, for the power of th

24 hr Laundromats and my run in with the Toothless Crack Whore Lesson Apparently I have any affinity for 24 hr Laundromats. I developed this habit in Atlanta while working the night shift. Night shift is hell. Your appetite gets fucked up and sleep schedules all off and shit. It’s so fucking hard to get on a night time schedule that you don’t want to fuck that shit up, so on your off days you sleep all day and stay up all night -hence night time laundry. Also, along the same time I developed a severe aversion to people and to being touched. Don’t get me wrong: Select people are allowed to touch me and they know who they are. If you have any questions about whether you are one of these people, then your not one of them, TRUST. . Anyway, Damn near no one is at a Laundromat at 2am so it all worked out. So, it’s 1 am on a Saturday/ Sunday. I’m doing laundry, avoiding the club because apparently I’ve decided that I’m a social alcoholic. I am addicted to drinking free drinks at the club and

The Simple HO Equation… Cuz Ho-ing is a science! Preamble to the reexamination of the HO Equation: Last night I lost my thumb drive, which has negative implications for me (ie. I can't just repost old shit anymore as I have lost all of my older material) and what could be perceived as positive benefits for everyone else (ie. My lazy ass will have to actually write new shit if I want to keep up this fucking blog.). Much to my dismay, the only surviving copy of the HO equation was on that fucking thumb drive. The HO equation came out of a frenzied evening at Target with my cousin where I was analyzing a statement made by my ex. He called me an Ugly HO. The Ho part I shook off…. His argument was solely based on the fact that I bought big boxes of condoms. Nothing wrong with buying a family pack of condoms. It makes logical sense. Think about it: Price per unit it is cheaper to buy a large box than a 3 pack. It’s not like they go bad. Its not like milk that’s gonna go bad in a couple

Things I lost in the divorce. Breakups are never easy. The longer the relationship, the more you stand to lose…. Whenever I go through an especially difficult breakup, I call that shit a “divorce”. Case in point: Ever known a couple who was going through a breakup and had to sit around arguing about visitation rights for their dog? When shit gets to that point, that shit has escalated beyond a mere breakup into what I would deem to count as a divorce. I mean, if you are figuring out who gets what and arguing over it, that shit is more serious than just a breakup. Whenever a relationship that involves cohabitation comes to an end, someone is about to seriously lose some shit, real talk. You never know when some shit will fall apart and next thing you know, you just lost the scarf your grandmother gave you before she passed away. This is why I try to make a point not to leave shit, ever . The best methods I have found are Don’t bring a lot of shit over. What the fuck do you need your

There but for the grace of god go I…… I am not nearly as grateful for the blessings in my life as I should be. I honestly should be in jail right now. No joke. I could go into the details but just know that at this very moment I should be facing at least 3 different charges (at least 3) . And I have to say, I should have seen this coming. My behavior, though better than it has been in the past, is still out of control. Here is a list of several of the contributing factors to my freedom: My breasts: The police like my boobs. I have never before been so grateful to have boobs. My Sassiness: Apparently, the police are amused by my cursing and my feistiness. I have never before been so happy that I have a smart ass mouth. A dress very similar to this one: It was more of a neutral print but whatever. Quite possibly the look on my face: I am pretty sure it was a cross between sad, hopeless and being intensely blown. There was a moment when I just gave up and was like “FUCK! I’m bout to