When to call "Bullshit" and Throw Hot Grits....

Sorry. I've been way to busy to write lately. Lot of random shit has been goin on and I kinda got caught up. Then I felt extra guilty because (very much to my surprise), I now have 51 subscribers and feel some kinda responsibility to produce. Anyway, on with the show.

Oddest thing happened on Monday. I walked out of my house to catch the bus and realized that I'd just missed it. Fuck it. I decided to walk to the metro. Cross the street and next thing I know I am being yelled at.

"WHERE THA FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN? GET IN THA FUCKIN CAR!"

Whoa. It's my old best friend from high school. I hadn't seen her in about 4 years. Long story short, a bunch of unnecessary drama popped up and between the drama she created, My job, and all the miscellaneous shit that was going on, I cut her off. Changed my number and called it a day.

So to see her out of nowhere after so long was a tremendous shock. I got in the car (she was holding up traffic on a major thoroughfare during rush hour) and we headed in the general direction of my job. I gave her my number and we've been catching up.

We went through a lot of shit together back in the day. Just talking to her reminded me of things that I'd totally forgotten. We learned a lot through the years and I thought I'd share alil.

Shit Nikki and I learnt throughout the years

• Some things you just have to peep and generalize.
  
  If you have one long pinky nail, I assume you do Coke. If all of your finger nails are long, I assume that you smoke weed. These are all fair assumptions and I stand behind them.
  
  
• You can't regress so that someone else can play catch up.
  
  There is just some shit that is off of my “To Do”
  Threesomes and Orgies…. Got knocked off of that list a long ass time ago.
  
  Honestly I seent more than you can imagine before even hitting college. All of my friends graduated high school or left before I hit senior year so instead of being bored at school everyday, I had my mother yell at the Principal, Vice Principal and My Guidance Counselor.
  
  It was determined that I would be allowed to leave school for the second semester of my senior year. I would attend Community College and take English 101 and College Math. I would send my official transcript back to my high school and they would accept these two courses as meeting my requirement for the 2 credits that I needed to graduate. I would still graduate with my class but I wouldn’t have to attend school. I would also get College credit (6 total credit hours) in the process.
  
  Sweet deal. This meant that at the age of 18, I attended class Tuesdays and Thursdays, worked on Wednesdays and had a 4 day weekend every week.
  
  Debauchery. We had a friend named Mellot, who lived in a row house by Howard off of Rhode Island. One Friday we were partying and I was looking for a cup to drink out of. I knock on Mellot’s bedroom door and she tells me to come in. Open the door and I see Mellot riding our homeboy Ronnie while wearing a maid’s outfit. I apologized and started to back out of the door but Mellot said “No! what’s wrong? What were you looking for?” So I explain that I was looking for a glass and she tells me where to find it and offers to get it for me. I decline. Mind you, that whole time, she’s riding Ronnie.
  
  This was typical at Mellot’s house. It was not unheard of to see someone running down the hall butt naked or to walk in and catch an eyeful. I have lived out all of my fantasies and then some. So tha shit you fantasizin bout, I mastered before I was 18. Your fantasies are irrelevant to me.
  
  
• For a while we employed the referral system. For some reason, we thought this would help avoid crazy. Wrong.
  
  
  The referral system spawned all the following scenarios:
  
  1. Steve
     
  2. The crazy Bail Guy
     
  3. Phone Game Sting Operations
     
  4. Catholic Cockblocking
     and worst of all
     
  5. Attempted Murder
  
  
  So, at this point, referrals don’t mean shit to me. I straight spy. Ill ask whoever the fuck I need to so I can figure out if you crazy before you’re engrossed in my life.
  
  Any common friends we have are fair game. Google, too. And I pray to run across a female that a dude I'm talking to used to smash. There is no more valuable source of info than a woman that hates a man. Real talk. An angry woman drops quarters.
  
  Matter of fact, I even have a home girl who’ll background check that ass if need be.
  
  Alls well that ends well. So long as you don't have more than 13 felonies and you aren't trying to give me HIV, trust, you can’t be worse than anything I already seen....
  
  
• For every time you catch a man cheating, there are countless other times that slipped under your radar.
  
  When a man gets caught cheating, it’s not cuz you’re that smart or ingenious. They get caught when they get sloppy.
  
  And if he’s smart, his shit is probably like an Iceberg:
  
  

  About 7/8ths of an iceberg is below the water line.

  
  
  The times you “see” it are probably way less numerous than the times that you didn’t.
  
  
• Trust your instincts.
  
  At this point in my life I don't need concrete proof of cheating or triflingness. All I need is a strong suspicion, 2 suspect text messages, 1 phone call taken in hushed tones and 1 guilty look in your eye.
  
  After that.... It’s a wrap. I'm too old and way too tired for gettin aggravated.
  
  
• Always talk to the other woman.
  
  Sadly, I value knowing the truth more than I value blissful ignorance. Also, I strongly believe in the strength of women helpin women. This is why, when faced with a cheating boyfriend, I talk to the other woman.
  
  You can't ask a guy who cheats on you what really happened between them. He already lied. That's what liars do. They lie. Well.
  
  He'll tell you any of the following:
  
  • “She crazy!”
    
  • “She just wanna be where you at.”
    
  • “We were talking but we never fucked and she's mad cuz I just wanna be friends.”
  
  
  I call "bullshit!"
  
  The other woman is a valuable source of info.
  
  Plus with the added benefits of technology, you can map out lies he told to you with dates he was off "with his cousins", when really he was off fuckin her. The combo of text messages, phone records, old emails, chat histories and a calendar are straight lethal..
  
  
• Never trust a Prince Charming.
  Shit that's too good to be true always is. Any man who, off top, is everything you ever wanted might soon become your worst nightmare.
  
  Also, be wary if everything he tells you is what you want to hear. Sometimes, I like a lil bullshit in my ear. Sometimes I enjoy being bullshitted. But I still know, in the long run, that it’s not true. Anyone who tells you everything you want to hear is normally hiding something.
  
  
• Weed effects penile fortitude.
  
  Lemme just say this:
  
  

  For the record: If your dick goes soft, and you drop down to eat ass as a means of distracting or compensating for the fact that you went soft, you have neither distracted nor compensated for your flaccid penis. You have merely guaranteed that you will no longer get kissed in the mouth and that imma tell all my friends that you can't keep it up and that you're a freak who likes to eat ass.

  
  
  
• You can't move forward if you’re looking backward.
  
  Chasin after “The one that got away” is a bigger waste of time than trying to blow up shit with your mind….. Cuz if you actually manage to blow up shit with your mind – you just acquired a new skill. If you catch “The one that got away”, you normally end up in the same bullshit all over again. Don’t bother. Go shopping instead.

Tips of the day:

"If you marry a man who cheats on his wife, you'll be married to a man who cheats on his wife." – Anne Landers

If a man cheats on you, leave.
If he lies to you, leave.
If he hits you... throw hot grits on him in his sleep.

And.... Elvis has left the building.