The Good, the Bad & the Semi-Literate

I has twitters

2011-05-22T20:46:00.000-07:00

You can follow....
https://twitter.com/#!/Jeanettisms/

Shit i say at work, cuz im too lazy-busy to blog. (my supervisor writes these down)

2010-11-20T14:50:00.001-08:00

Who likes Jell-o? It’s just juice that jiggles.” 5/24/2010

“Is there a movie about invisible sharks? Cause we should make one.Think how cheap it’d be!” 5/26/2010

“If I lived in a village, I’m sure they’d, like, put me down. They’dbe, like, ‘you’re too weird to live.’” 5/26/2010

“It is better . . . to have eaten . . . and lost . . . . than to never have eaten at all.” 5/27/2010

“. . . I was just thinkin’ you’d make a horrible woman. I mean, evenif you shaved the beard, you’d still be too lazy to gussy it up.”5/27/2010

“I love bar codes. I’ma bar code my kids. ‘It’s 10:00 pm, do youknow where your kids are?’ *Bloop!* Got ‘em!” 5/28/2010

“Wouldn’t it be great, like, if you had a friend who could pop-lockreal well, and you get them drunk and put them in a cow suit and madethem pop-lock for you?” 6/2/2010 (Ed: This was entirely unsolicitedand unrelated to anything that was going on).

“If there were giant hamsters, they would look like you . . . . . . Ithink that’s a compliment.” 6/8/2010

“I like your hair! It says ‘business in the back, party in thefront.’ It’s, like, a reverse mullet.” 6/8/2010

“We should have, like, one day a month where we get you a cheap shirt,like, a cheap hand-me-down shirt, like, five people had it before youkinda shirt, and then you’ll just Hulk out of it. ‘Cause really, whodoesn’t wanna just Hulk outta stuff? I think it’d be even better ifit was a Members Only jacket, cause then you gotta find a Members Onlyjacket, then you gotta . . .” 6/14/2010 (Ed: Totally unrelated to anyprevious conversation. This was the beginning of the conversation.)

(Ed: With regard to the above). “. . . It was related to theconversation going on in my head . . .” 6/14/2010

(Ed: In response to being whistled at on the street). “I was supposedto go out tonight, and I was supposed to change and put on heels and ajacket and all, but I feel like this outfit’s workin’ for me.”6/15/2010.

“You know what I wish? That I had legions of tiny, tiny penguins todo my bidding. They’d be really small. They’d nip at your ankles.You’d be in constant fear. What are you doing? Are you writing thisdown?” 6/15/2010

“It’s times like these I wish I had those f#!*in’ penguins.” 6/15/2010

J: “Well now I know that, and knowing’s half the battle.”Me: “You know it ‘cause I figured it out!”J: “Figuring it out was the other half of the battle . . .” 6/22/2010

“I need to get you a bobblyhead doll. It’d be you, but bobblyhead . .. . . . . . er than you are.” 6/22/2010

“I googled ‘evil slinky’ hoping to get a picture of a slinky with evileyes on it, but nothing came up . . . . it’s not unreasonable . . . .. maybe I googled it wrong.” 6/23/2010

(11:08 AM) jbrown: i is happy today. I woke up and put on pants andwas like "YEAH. A.M. AND I GOT PANTS ON!!!!!" 6/23/2010

“. . . you’re like if a hamster decided to stand on two legs, and beevil . . .” 6/24/2010

J: “What’s the patron saint of prostitutes?”Me, googling: “St. Nick.”J: “Yeah it is. Ho, ho, ho . . .” 6/30/10

“You ever get so tired that you just wanna end your life, just ‘causeit seems like a really long nap? Not like life isn’t great, or I’msad, but just ‘cause I’d get to sleep for a long time if I suicided.”6/30/10

“What’s wrong with thanking oxygen? You need it . . . . it’s there .. . . need met!” 7/1/10

“I look at it this way: I’m sleep deprived, I’m a little hungover, I’mmasking it with electrolyte pills, but I’m not in Queens, and I haveall my limbs. You just gotta look at it that way.” 7/1/10

“I’m waiting for my ‘real New York experince’ when I get roofied.When does that happen?” 7/1/10. Ed: (There were air quotes. Yesthere were.)

“Why does everything revolve around alcohol? I’m serious! It hurts.No one’s taking that into account . . . .the pain. I gotta learn howto turn down a drink.” 7/1/10

“I’m not from Jersey, but when in Rome, listen to dance music and fistpump.” 7/1/10

“Between tequila, Cinco de Mayo, and piñatas, I heart Mexico.Blatantly.” 7/2/10

“(11:49 AM) jbrown: gettin funky on these drives like an old batch ofcollard greens.” 7/2/10

Me: “You always lose your blackberry.”J: “No I don’t! It’s on my sheep.” 7/2/10

“I’d make a crappy Tina Turner. My hair doesn’t get big enough.” 7/6/10

“I’m so glad you’re here and alive. You’re should work on stayingthat way fer, like, forever. Put that on your to-do-list. ‘Stayalive.’ . . . . sweet infant baby Jesus, where’s my stapler . . . ”7/6/10

“If hard drives killed you, I’d put you on a dolly and wheel youaround with sunglasses on, like Weekend at Bernie’s. If it worked ina 1980’s movie, why wouldn’t it work in real life? I think we all sawMannequin . . . . valuable life lessons.” Pause. “How did they havea Weekend at Bernie’s 2? He could only die once.” 7/7/10

(Ed: Related to nothing) “You could fill a piñata with gummi bears,right? You’d just have to make sure it’s not too hot out.” 7/7/10

J: “Why’s your rice so orange? Is it arroz con a l’orange?”Me: “That’s two languages and 3 kinds o’ crazy.”J: “Yeah, but you understood it.” 7/13/10

“You know what accounting is like? A math sorority . . .” 7/13/10

“I’ve started to expound on the crazy. It’s no longer just soundbites of crazy.” 7/13/10

“I also hate all black and white movies. I’m, like, get some color upin that piece. My opinion is valid! It’s just as valid as critics’and -ologists’.” 7/13/10

“Sometimes you just have to have a baby by Lil’ Wayne. Sometimes it’sjust what you have to do today.” 7/14/10

(Ed: During a discussion of electrolyte pills and their curativeeffects on hangovers). “It cuts it by a good solid 50%. Instead ofwaking up and wishing for death, you wake up and wish for . . . morewater.” 7/15/10

“I don’t trust the elderly, kids, or puppies. Tryin’ to get by oncuteness, then all of a sudden they’re a zombie, biting your neck.You’re like ‘oh, you’re cute . . . oh wait’.” 7/15/10

“I look at it like this: You can save the children, but what worldare you saving them for? There’re zombies! They can’t play outside,there’s zombies out there! And old people? They’re gonna becrazy-strong old people zombies.” 7/15/10

“My cat lost her couch, ‘cause we’re renovating, so now she justsprawls out on cardboard boxes like a hobo cat. That’s what you getfor takin’ shit for granted, hobo cat!” 7/15/10

“I wanna buy a baby lamb. I’d Little-Bo-Peep the hell outta thatshit.” 7/15/10

“We should play a . . . aww, we’re at work. I was gonna say we shouldmake a drinking game out of it.Stupid work. Spoils everything.” 7/16/10

“Hey John. One day, you’re gonna have kids. One day, you’re gonnahave to teach those kids to drive. I hope you’re ready for it. Did Ijust mess up your Tuesday? Sorry!” 7/20/10

“I wear my glasses to drive, because they make things clear, but whenI’m walking around the city I don’t wear them, because things arecrazy, and I wanna keep that shit fuzzy.” 7/20/10

“I like to use captions while I watch TV so I can use both sides of mybrain; the smart side, and the dumb side. ‘Cause, not only did I seethat shit, I read it.” 7/21/10

(Ed: The following is a selection of chats received via BlackberryMessenger while the editor was on vacation for a week. All spellingand punctuation is accurate.)

Did you get me a Space Otter?

Aaaaallllllllllll by MMMMMYYyyself

Whatcha eattttin

By the mighty power of RAED and his magical dolphins, I swear, iffin Idon’t get an otter imam hold my breath until I die!

Its soooooooooo lame here. Theyres no you or otters? Or hamsters and shit

M pan ada

Wish I had a Muppet. Sadface.

“I plague you with a curse of babies.” 8/2/2010

(Ed: Related to the above) “Every time you dash my hopes, they swim10% faster. Just think about that. Keep dashin, mother@*$#er . . .”8/2/2010

“We could coat you in Cheez Whiz and call you Senor Cheez Whiz.Y’know?” – 8/5/2010

(Ed: Regarding the editor.) “The fact that he doesn’t live somewherein a cabin somewhere, plotting against the world, constantly shocksme. He’s got the facial hair, and the woodworking, and the randomskills. I should probably get off the phone, though, ‘cause he’sprobably writing this all down. All’s I’m sayin’ is I can see it. Ifhe starts getting’ disgruntled . . .” 8/5/2010

“So says Whoopi. Yes, I have taken to watching The View. Don’t judgeme. When menopause comes, I’ll be ready.” 8/6/2010

(Ed: The following is a selection of chats received via BlackberryMessenger while the subject was on vacation for three days. Allspelling and punctuation is accurate.)

Ipoached a egg. Imma eats it. Imma eats it good

2 things I learned today. Cold case is a horrible tv show and peoplecan eat Beggin strips. Yep. I keep you up on facts

If you think about it, we all really kinda resemble gerbils and hamsters

I really think you should invest some time in learning to breakdance

“I had a boyfriend who left a didgeridoo by the door, and I was like,“you’ve got to go.” Who leaves a didgeridoo at someone’s house?”8/16/10

“When you scratch it, it spreads. Knowledge I learned from AdamSandler movies. *Thumbs Up*.” 8/16/2010

“I just don’t think I should be the only one subjected to the crazythat’s in my head. I think a) it should be shared, and b) I shouldn’tbe the only one.” 8/18/2010

“I lost five pounds, like by accident. That’s creepy. I could havethe tape of the worm.” 8/19/2010

“Ow. I have chest pain. I felt like a tiny monkey paw had gripped mychest. The heart part. The bottom ventricle. And it squeezed. Butthen it let go. Who really needs a ventricle?” 8/20/2010

“So, yesterday I tried to buy an evil monkey paw on the internet. Whywould they not sell that?” 8/24/2010

“Do you think 1,000 dollars is too much to invest in a monkey paw?What if it grants me three wishes? Three eeeeeeevil wishes?”8/24/2010

“People are people, but if I cut you up and put you in a sandwich,it’d be meat. It’d be a you sandwich. You would needmaaadtenderizer. Unless I put you in a slow-cooker. But where wouldI get a crockpot? I don’t eat meat!” 8/24/2010

“I wish I had a human sized burrito.” Ponder. “It couldn’t feed theworld . . . but it could feed a lotta people.” 8/25/2010

(Ed: If she were a fruit or vegetable, what kind of fruit or vegetablewould she be) “A pineapple. Confounding . . . and delicious! Like,I can’t eat your center! What’s up with that? Also, it’s myfavorite.” 8/25/2010

“It’d be cool to be a waitress for a week. ‘Cause everything Idropped off I can say, ‘you just got served!’ But only for a week.”8/25/2010

J: “You know what I wish? I wish that one day you could pop up and beBilly Zane. Just for one day. You could wish I was somebody else forjust one day, too.”Me: ”Why Billy Zane?”J: “Why not Billy Zane? When is he not awesome? I guess you could beGhost Ship.”Me: “Is that even a person?”J: “That’s a movie. But seriously, how many movies do you know aboutships? Titanic and Ghost Ship. Of all the movies about ships, GhostShip is definitely in the top 5.”Me: “You just told me there are 2 movies about ships, and that it’s inthe top 5.”J: “Well if there’s only 2, then it’s gotta be in the top 5. Theyshould really make more movies about ships.” 8/30/2010

(Ed: Regarding the fact that she uses other people’s CVS cards.) “Youshould see the points they get me. Off the chain! They must havekids. Or that stuff. Athlete’s foot.” 8/30/2010

(Ed: With regard to strange banging noises in the office.) “We shouldjust wander the halls with a flashlight and Nancy Drew this out.”8/31/2010

“There’s things outsides. Like bugs, and oxygen, and New Yorkers.Not so much oxygen, more New Yorkers.” 9/1/2010

(3:15 PM) jbrown: Mi nombre es Jeanetta. Yo como espanol y quierobueno espanol mas(3:15 PM) jshumway: My name is Jeanetta. I eat spanish and want goodspanish more.

“If you were a puppy and you had sneakers, you’d be trying to chew onthem, that’s how much no good you’re up to. I’d put you in a cone ofshame. You’d get the cone.” 9/1/2010

(4:23 PM) jbrown: did you know i was gonna drive you thiiiiiis crazy tho.(4:23 PM) jbrown: basic crazy.... okay. but this is like premuim crazy(4:24 PM) jbrown: like cable

“I wish Jackie Chan was here.” 9/2/2010

“I wish I had a lemur.” 9/2/2010

“I wish the Swedish Chef would do a version of Eye of the Tiger.*Bloop, bloop boop bloop*.” 9/2/2010

“You know what I hate? Alien abductions. You wanna swoop down inyour flying saucer, snatch me up, experiment on me? Do I come to yourhouse, experiment on you? You should call first. That’s rude. Theleast they could do is call. What if I was in the middle of somethingimportant? We couldn’t have a time that would be mutually agreeable,so they don’t have to interrupt my whole life? “ 9/3/2010

“I wish I was a Canadian sitcom. I’d say ‘aboot.’ And ‘soorry.’” 9/3/2010

“If I have to continue to pop my collar to shake these hatas off,you’re gonna owe me a new collar.” 9/7/2010

(Ed: Regarding noises upstairs in the office.) “You should justignore it. You clearly did not live in enough apartments as a kid.Unless I hear a scream and a thud . . . and then I’d call from apayphone, cause I don’t wanna be a witness. There’s no winnin’ inbein’ a whatchamacalit . . . ‘witness’.” 9/7/2010

“The force is strong within me, and the will is weak within you. Youwill fall to the dark side, and I will get a cool hat.” 9/8/2010

“You’re like a penguin . . . friendly . . . but coooooldd.” 9/8/2010

“You definitely can’t barbeque a panda at the zoo. Someone wouldcapture you.” 9/9/2010

“I would tell you, but you would just judge me. With your eyebrows.Wispy peaks of evil.” 9/9/2010

“(4:29 PM) jbrown: am i the only one who perceives "open bar" to be apersonal consumption challenge?” 9/9/2010

“It’s like the bar ran up on me and called me a punk.” 9/9/2010

“It’s like you’re built to be someone’s suburban dad. Go get yourselfa house. Go. You need one. With a backyard and some swings.”9/10/2010

Me: “Do you want to go back to berating IT?”J: “I was kinda gettin’ into it . . .” 9/10/2010

(Ed: By BBM on a Sunday) “Itd be cool to fill a bathtub w squirrels.” 9/12/2010

“What’s that movie with the guy from 300 and Jennifer Aniston wherehe’s a bounty hunter? Maybe it’s The Bounty Hunter . . .” 9/13/2010

“If I had an ice pick . . . . . .” 9/13/2010

(Ed: By BBM) “I donbt think abe lincoln liked the ladies” 9/14/2010

“I want to LOL on that panda’s face. I’m just sayin’ . . .” 9/14/2010

J: “You know what, John?”Me: “What?”J: “. . . I didn’t really have a follow-up to that . . .” 9/14/2010

“This book smells good. You wanna smell it? No really, it does. Youknow that smell that books have? One day they won’t have that smellanymore. They’ll have, like, Kindle, and the internets. It’ll belike audio cassettes. Where do you even play them in? And won’t themusic be warbly? Tapes were not good. That’s probably why they’regone . . .” 9/15/2010

“Your face is a wookie-bear.” Pause. “That didn’t sound right.” 9/16/2010

“I get ignorant and thoughty when I get drunk.” 9/20/2010

“I say thoughtful statements of awesome.” 9/20/2010

J: “I gotta see the second one of those, ‘cause I saw the first one,and I liked it. It had pants, and they travelled.”Me: “I couldn’t’ve gotten that from the title?”J: “Shut up! I like pants! And travelling! And it’s kind of asisterhood! You like pants, too. You wear them every day. You alsolike travelling. But you’re indifferent towards sisterhood. Still,that’s 2 out of 3. You should watch it.” 9/20/2010

One day long after Im dead, people will realize my genius. Ill be inbooks and shit like Aesop and his fables. 10/5/2010

I wish I could talk to cars. 10/6/2010

J: Is today Tuesday?Me: Todays Wednesday.J: You know what tomorrow is?Me: Thursday?J: Yeah it is! 10/6/2010

Burt Reynolds has a Tom Selek mustache, which I think means that,technically, Tom Selek has a Burt Reynolds mustache. Woah. 10/7/2010

So I can badger them later with violence. And badgers. 10/7/2010

That was creepy. It reminded me of the movie Fame. 10/7/2010

(2:54 PM) jbrown: How do you even celebrate columbus day? run up onsomeone, rob them and give them syphillis? i mean cinco de mayo couldget you accidentally shot but at least it gets you drunk, gives youcandy and a hat first. 10/7/2010

Ima eat these cream puffs like they owe me money . . . 10/8/2010

(Ed: regard the editor not talking.) I wish you would hush up with allthat quiet. 10/8/2010

(Whispered). Joooohn. Guess what. Im pretty fly for a white guy. 10/12/10

I am too precious for this world. Too precious! 10/13/2010

(Ed: the following was because the editor was ignoring J)

J: If you were my neighbor, Id call the cops on you.Me: Why?J: Really, it would be because youre anti-social, but Id tell the copsthere was a funny smell. Some of my threats are idle, but this onesfor reallss. And then the news crews would come later and Id say Heseemed so nice, you woulda never seen it coming. Who would play me inyour Lifetime movie? This is all contingent upon them actuallyfinding something. Otherwise its just me making crank calls.10/13/2010

Pandas wrestle, right? I mean, like, for fun, not for money. 10/13/2010

J: Im done for today.Me: Today jumped the shark in the last 10 minutes.J: It was a whole cluster of sharks! We jumped all the sharks, and nowwere over the moon! 10/13/2010

I wish I had a lobster. Not to eat. Just to hang out. 10/18/2010

Some days youre the hamster, some days youre the wheel. 10/19/2010

Tweed jackets you can get real cheap. English teachers die every day. 10/26/2010

Me and the west coast dont seem to get along. Them mofos is too laidback, son. I like my people a little more hostile than that. 10/29/10

I saw a hipster the other day with a teardrop tattoo, and I gotconfused and just decided to move on with my life. I was like, Yourpants are so tight. Who did you kill? 10/29/10

You look indifferent. I should make a mask. It would be a mask ofyou giving a damn. Pause. It would really just look like the BurgerKing. 10/29/10

Why dont people play beer pong at brunch? It seems reasonable. 11/3/2010

(Ed: The truest thing ever said . . .)I was talking to my friend and we decided that hes the Jack Donaghy tomy Liz Lemon, but youre the Liz Lemon to my Tracy Morgan. Maybe TracyMorgan and Jenna, both. 11/3/2010

The fact that I do not have a lamb is starting to piss me off. 11/16/2010

They just banned Four Loko! How did they get that through that fast?You know how long it took em to get through healthcare?! The wheelsof justice are slow except sometimes, why couldnt this be one of thosetimes! 11/17/2010

I guess youre never too young for white hair. Its genetics. Thinksfor a moment. Points to self. Jeannetics!

Tiny Bottles of Wine are Ingenious.

2010-09-18T10:49:00.000-07:00

Preface: Let me start by stating that I postponed my LSATs. I need to work further on my Reading Comprehension and the hiatus that I took from writing has left me feeling completely unprepared for the actual writing section. It’s funny how the step that I took to leave me to focus on my studying diminished my confidence to actually perform on the test. Go figure.

I’d love to fill you in on everything, but there is too much to tackle as to what has happened over the last few months so I’ll hit the highlights and then try and narrow in on the last two days.

I’ve taken a break from dating. There are a lot of reasons for this break.

I have a severe commitment-phobia.
If I am seeing someone who is generally interested, I bolt. If I am seeing someone who doesn’t give a fuck, I linger. This is crazy-behavior.
I’m happier single.
I am.
I am not really friends with any of my exes.
Because before we started dating we weren’t really friends either.
I have found all parts of sex pretty disappointing lately.
Good sex doesn’t seem to have a satisfying duration and the bad sex…. Oh my fucking god, the bad sex just wants to go on and on and come back for second, third and fourth rounds. Its like a hedge maze of horrible stroke and I cant find the exit. I think this should be referred to from here on out as the “Riddle of horrible dick”.

Big dick is not an excuse for a lack of technique and ridiculously tiny penis cannot be made up for with a preponderance of skills. That old phrase “It’s not the size of the boat, it’s the motion of the ocean” is stupid. What little dick motherfucker made that up? It doesn’t even make sense. See below why the boat has nothing to do with how the ocean moves and if “the small ass boat” is used to describe your little ass dick, your dick factors not into the equation at all… Sigh.

The last sex I had was preceded by what I shall refer to as “The Single Woman’s Prayer”. It went alil something like this:
Dear God: I like me some him. I hope he can fuck. Please god let him be able to fuck....Let him be freaky but not too freaky. It doesn’t have to be huge. I would like a nice circumference and about 6 inches or more. Please lord; don't let him ask me to put nothin up his butt. That is all.

The Lord answers some prayers. Just not all. The Lord ignored the second sentence in my request. SMH. That was the most important sentence and after the debacle that ensued, I lowered my head and momentarily gave up. Sigh.

Let me fill you in on the last 2 days. They were adventurous to say the least.
After work on Thursday, I headed off to Penn Station with a coworker. We parted ways to head to our respective trains and I was met with what you can see below.

A mass of people. Apparently a tornado hit a bunch of power lines and there were wall to wall people in Penn Station. The LIRR service had been suspended and the New Jersey Transit is delayed. Hmmmm

I quickly procure 2 tiny bottles of wine.

This is my default plan for fuckedupedness. I head outside and meet up with my coworker who is trying to figure out how to get home. I hand her an open tiny bottle of wine in a paper bag and then ask “Do you know what we are?”. She replies “Crackheads?” and I proudly proclaim “NO! We are winos!” and point enthusiastically at the open bottle of wine. I emphatically declare the creator of tiny bottles of wine to be a genius and state that he should have won the Nobel Prize for awesome and that if he was not the recipient of the Nobel Prize for Awesome, that he was robbed. ROBBED, I SAY!!!

There is a homeless man outside boxing air. I decide that I must steer clear of him. He then gets mad (I assume because the air was fighting dirty?) and spits at the air. This reaffirms my previous decision to steer clear.

We then meet Jared. Jared is an Advertising guy. We decide that Jared is awesome. He does the Absolut Campaigns. I get mad at the lack of the old school bottle campaign. I’m still mad about that right now. 

Jared needs to pee. Jared walks up to the police, beer in hand, to ask if its cool to pee outside. The police inform Jared that, not only is it illegal to pee outside but it is illegal to drink beer in the streets as well. Jared then counters that it is legal to drink on the train and that we are at the train station. Logically the train station should count as an extension of the train and therefore drinking should be fine. The police disagree. I pull Jared away from the police to avoid him getting ticketed or arrested.

We head off to find a bathroom and I later return to my coworker. It has started to drizzle and she is trying to get home still. We head to the post office across the street and I have to leave soon to catch my train. I abscond, she never did make it home and I met a nice guy named Joe on the train. (I mention Joe here because I feel like he may become a blog staple. He is funny and nice and lives right around the corner.)

I would tell you all about yesterday but I feel too hung-over to function any longer, so I shall bid you adieu… Until next time.

Tired. Very tired.

2010-09-02T18:16:00.000-07:00

I am emotionally and mentally tapped out. I dunno. Im about to withdraw for a while to think some things over. Thus is all.

Things I learned while studying for the Lsats

2010-08-14T21:07:00.000-07:00

I feel like this time that I've spent studying has given me a quiet spot in my mind to reflect on things.

When I say "You'll be alright" to someone I'm breaking up with or breakin things off with, I don't really mean "You'll be alright". What I really mean is "Ill be alright". I'm gonna start saying "we'll be alright" because we will. Its never that serious. It truly isn't.
I am combatting my desire to be fawned over. That shits like heroine. I like it a lot, til I OD on it. There's a such thing as too much, you know.
I'm reading "Eat Pray Love" because I haven't read enough and I need upliftment, like people in jail need "Rape-Off". It has made me want to do all three. And This part stuck with me. "There are only 2 questions that human beings have ever fought over, all throughout history. How much do you love me? And Who's in charge?"
I have control issues. I want to control everything. God thinks that shits hilarious

I was praying the other day not to end up sitting next to this elderly woman on my flight. I'd seen her waitin for the flight and she was utterly confused. Like early onset dementia or Alzheimer's confused. I prayed sooooo hard not to end up next to her, with her endless questions and confusion.

I board my flight and see the man behind me with his son. The man was discussing with the flight attendant how he would hopefully be able to trade seats so that they could be next to each other. And.... On walks the elderly woman. She was supposed to sit behind me, but with the seat change, she was next to me. Sigh... God laughs.

I helped her put on her seat belt, and stow her bags. I reminded her to get the bag she checked at the gate and helped her with her snack options. I even buttoned her jacket when her fingers wouldn't quite work right.

I figure if God seated her next to me, he was probably tryin to teach me something.... She was a pretty nice old lady, now that I think about it.
Even the strongest man can't be a man if you're unwilling to step aside and let him do his thing.
I want to give more and take less. Be more sensitive w my words. Talk less and listen more.
I am smarter than I thought.
I take for granted the compliments I receive. Many women would love to hear they are beautiful and I hear it and shrug it off.
Also, it takes a lot for men to compliment a woman and I shouldn't diminish their man bravery or efforts.
I am not as fat as I thought.
Antidepressants literally saved my life.
Fuck you. I don't care if pretty woman is about a prostitute. That shit was cute.
Tho Dirty dancing is still shite. A horrible allegory for a young womans coming of age
I woke up. Several times. Both literally and metaphorically
I finally learned to recognize when my needs surpassed the limitations of any given situation and to leave. The leaving is an old trick, but the leaving for the right reasons is kinda new to me.

I think all this has spurred a need in me to think more and live more in my own quiet. I also suspect that at the end of this, I might decide that I don't want to go to law school after all. And that's totally cool with me.

Out of pocket due to the LSATs

2010-08-05T19:03:00.001-07:00

Hey yall. Sorry. I has been too busy to write lately. Deal with it. Meantime catch me on twitter. @Nettarose1 or on FB..... http://www.facebook.com/NettaRose

Goddamn Crazy Magnet.

2010-07-06T18:36:00.000-07:00

Things have been alil crazy with the rooftop pandemonium and all. I have this new habit that I am working on establishing in my life. I call it, "Breaking up with people that I'm not even dating". No, really. And it’s the best shit I ever came up with.

And it begins: I met a guy on a Wednesday night after getting drunk the night before.

Let me recap: The night prior to that, I was at a table in a club on a rooftop drinking large quantities of alcohol. I finally made it home at around 2am and still had to work.

So the next morning, I get up and head onto the train at 6am. I am dead to the world. No lie. We get to Penn station and I am still dead to the world.

The train unloads at Penn and goes to get cleaned in Queens. When I wake up, the train is rolling. I bolt up and run to the front. I find the conductor and ask "Am I headed to Queens?" because I've blatantly resigned myself to my fate.

He asks "Do you want to go to Queens?"

So I ask "Do I have a choice?"

Train conductor:"Sure! Just run to the back and we'll let you out!"

YES! Not even 8 am and I am surmounting adversity. Go me.

After work I am walking home and a cab pulls up to me. The guy was cute. 25. He looked like Clinton Portis mixed with Michael Vick, minus Herpes.

So I gave him my number and he hit me up the next day asking if we could hang. Ok. Fine. So Thursday night I went out and drove around with this cab driver. He was funny and interesting and it seemed promising.

The next morning he texts me to ask if I'd like a ride to the train station. Sweet.... but its only two blocks away so I pass. He meets me there anyway to talk because his shift isnt over. Ok. Fine.

That night I had plans with
my dad. I tell him as much.

Him:"Well can you meet me for a drink beforehand?"
Me: "Sorry, I really cant"
Him: "OK"

I get to the train station.... and he's waiting for me. HOUSTON, WE HAVE A PROBLEM. 3 days in and we are already having a discussion about boundaries. He tells me he understands.

Next week, he stops by my house without consulting me first. He wanted to lock me in for a date that Friday. I try to explain that I am hostile when I get home. Tired, angry and borderline violent.

His answer: (enthusiastically) I like violent women. Especially when they hit.

Done. Fuck this. Shut it down. I have found that when shit looks crazy, its best to get out early. Once you let crazy in your life, its there. Crazy is hard to get rid of.

Most of the crazy paranoia stems from 2 places.

In high school I had a stalker. We were cool before he went crazy. I guess he always liked me. Well, one day he tried to push his way into my house. I slammed the door on his arm, repeatedly. I thought that would be the end of it.....

Until he called me when he got home and said "If you see me on the street, don't look at me or speak to me."

Ok. You angry. That's reasonable.

He continued "If I page you, don't call me back...."

umm, weird but I guess I can do that.(Tells you how long ago this was. I still had a pager.)

And then the final crazy straw.
"If I call you, don't pick up the phone."

How the fuck I'm spossed to do that. I don't have no damn caller ID. Couldn't you just do us all a favor and not call me!?!

It progressed into deeper crazy. This was my senior year of high school. Every morning, he would hide in the park across the street from my house in the morning and watch me as I left for school.... (He would hide behind trees and peek round them.) Most bizarre shit ever.

He didn't actually go away until he got arrested FOR BEATING AND ROBBING OLD PEOPLE. Swear to fuckin god.

My second true run-in with crazy was "Ex 07".

One night Ex 07 went out with his cousin. Ex 07 was an alcoholic. He promised to stay away from the alcohol and that he would be home that night but kind of late.

Sufficed to say, he ain’t make it home and it was a Saturday. Hair appointment day. I head out around 9 and my phone really doesn't work in the salon.

The minute I get close to the window, my phone is blowing up.

Its Ex 07 with the following convoluted ass story.
He went out with his cousin and fell asleep in Silver Spring. He'd promised his mother a ride from Clinton, MD to the airport which he missed because he overslept (later it was revealed that he was drinking the night before). Now his Mom was pissed and he needed his house keys so that he could go housesit and make it up to her. He then went back to my place to get his keys. I wasn't there (duh). So he walked a couple of blocks away to my job.... On a Saturday. Convinced the security guard to let him onto our floor and then knock on the triple locked heavy ass door for about 20 mins.

All of this dumbness culminated in "Could I leave my hair appt. to go back to dc to let him get his keys so he could go house sit? Or could he come to silver spring, get my keys so he could go get his keys and go to Clinton."

Dear god, why would I let your dumb ass take my keys an hour from my house with you to housesit? I swear I should have a job dealing with hyper reactive morons in crisis.

So I ask "Why do you need to housesit now?"

Ex 07: Cuz my mom is pissed.

Me: But how long is she gone for?

Ex 07: A week.

Ok. Not an emergency. Meet me in silver spring, ill take you to get your keys and drop off in Clinton later.....

Sigh... I swear. Dumb and crazy. Much worse than just plain crazy.

I am now wary of people who are too eager or too attentive. That shit seems to be crazy camouflage.

There is a growing list of waries actually. Ill share next time. This has gone on too long

All these Motherf*ckin Rooftops

2010-06-23T17:40:00.000-07:00

The level of crazy in NY has actually managed to up the ante on crazy. I has seen 2 people "walking" birds on leashes. I have seen 2 people in Grossly inappropriate attire. I have seen so many people who count as "crazy" it defies my counting capabilities.
I am ok with all of this as I am alil crazy too. I like to wave at my Train conductor when get off the train. Eh. Just cuz its New york, don't mean you should refrain from politities....

Mostly what I have seen is rooftop bars. They apparently ran out of "land" room so they started using up all the "air" space.

The views are fantastic and I have settled into a pattern: New York on Fridays and New Jersey on Saturdays. I go "bar" in NY, and make it onto my last train (cruelly scheduled at 1am). I make my way back to Jersey and spend time laughing with my dad in this serene ass town on the water. Its a nice pattern and I enjoy it.

The dating aspect has been interesting.

I have noticed, what I like to call "Bitter @ 30" syndrome. I used to think that older men were more mature, worldly and settled. I know realize that was incorrect. They are just as pouty and bitter. Bitter like angry women who alienate men in bad movies. And trust me.... Its alienating as shit.

I'd started talking to one guy and he said "I no longer cater to women"..... This is not the way to vagina. This is not the correct path to get you where you would like to be.

The phenomenon of being "Geographically Undesirable". My brother and father had mentioned this before, but I had brushed it off as being crazy talk. Its not. By the time I get home, it is late. So weeknights are out. And if you live an hour away from me, I need to block off a half a weekend day for you, just so I don't feel guilty for having you travel so far.

I'm tired of arguing. This is gonna sound bad, but whatever: every time I date someone who didn't finish school, they pick arguments. Maybe that's an unfair generalization but :fuck it. Its my blog. They pick arguments and insist on winning. I don't care if I lose an argument because I'm wrong, but when you attempt to win an argument using fallacious logic (when you don't even technically know what fallacious logic is) it is annoying. I feel like Oprah in "The Color Purple".... " I had to fight my whole life"...

I'm done. Ill get a cat and become one of those people. I swear I will.

I have boundaries: I need my motherfucking space. That meet each other, head over heels volatile shit is for the birds. I just wanna hang out. Enjoy life. Have a drink on a rooftop. Take a nap. Beach.

Meeting each other and being bunned up all the time leads to unplanned pregnancy with assholes. That way lies despair.

I'm into asking for what I want and demanding what I need and the emotional blah blah is killing me. I'm tired. If you start one more sentence with "I feel" I'm leavin.

The food here is crazy good and every time I turn around, I see another celebrity. This week : Kelly Cutrone. Last week Marlan Wayans. Definitely enjoying it. I like this city. The fashion, the food. Good friends, great cocktails. And all these motherfucking rooftops.

Single in the city

2010-06-05T00:40:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the vastness of the city astounds me. The singles, the “in loves”, the marrieds….

It is amazing how, in a city so big with so many people to connect with, how some people can feel so alone.

I am embarking on dating again, kinda. After all my years of “failures”, at least I have figured out what I do and do not want.

I want:

Someone with a four year degree.
I am tired of dating people that I can only have perfunctory conversations with. I should not have to dumb down our conversation because you cannot keep up.
Someone who has read more than just what was assigned at school in order to get that four year degree.
I am not wowed when your list of favorite reading materials merely consists of things that were required.
Someone who isn’t crazy.
This one seems simple but I have a history of “what the fuck”…. From the delusional to the sociopathic. I can’t do it anymore.
Someone who makes as much or more money than me.
I am tired of dating dudes who make a 3rd of what I do. It’s ridiculous. When we go out and I always end up paying to assuage my guilt over the fact that I have a better job than you…. That is a problem. “Get up, get out and do something.”
Someone who is single.
Seriously. If you are “Married and Unhappy/Lonely”, get a fucking divorce before you step to me.
Someone who is independent.
This is more complex than it sounds. If you are always worried about what other people think of you, then you are not the person for me. I like to live outside of those constraints and if that is your main concern… we ain’t gonna make it. We just ain’t.

This also applies to people who believe in trade offs. Like “I was a computer nerd but I was also cool with (fill in the blank with popular high school group) so it was ok”….. Bitch, I graduated high school in 2001, and when I was there, I gave not a fuck about how other people saw me. If your self worth is predicated upon how others perceive you then we should give up now.
Someone who is honest.
Honesty will take you far with me. Having the integrity to step up and admit when you have fucked up is sexy and grown.
Someone with confidence.
No self deprecating bullshit.
Someone who isn’t bitter.
That thing that happened 10 years ago when you felt wronged and disenfranchised…. Let it go. It was a long time ago and that’s why you aint do shit with your life. You are hung up on and living in the past. MOVE ON.
Someone who doesn’t obsessively read this blog to see if they’re mentioned.
Yeah. This also links in with the above. You’re pressed. It’s sad. Move on. “You’re so Vain…. I bet you think this blog is about you….”
Someone who doesn’t compare me to their last girlfriend.
I am not her. I do not care what she was like or how we are similar or different.

I also have a list of things that don’t matter to me.

Shit that I don’t care about:

Race…
Just be normal. Color doesn’t matter.
Sex.
Just be normal. I don’t really care.
Kids.
So long as they are not like severely numerous, I don’t care.
Monogamy/Fidelity
I find that, the older I get, the less I care about this. If I had to choose between Monogamy or Honesty, I’d choose honesty. I feel like the implications of Monogamy make people feel the need to lie. I would rather have an open and honesty relationship than one where we lie to one another and pretend that we aren’t attracted to others.

I know what I want. This city is vast. I intend on finding something that suits me.

MeatPacking, The Jersey Shore and The "Bones" Effect

2010-05-15T00:31:00.000-07:00

Last weekend was incredibly satisfying in that every day markedly different the last and yet everyone was awesome in its own way.

Friday, I left work and headed to my friends friends home to get ready for this party. I took the first half of my journey with my supervisor. Walking along and seeing everything was great and I hear this voice that sounds familiar. I look up and who do I see but "AJ"..... Blatantly not who I wanted to run into while walking with my supervisor. I moved to a whole new city and still can't out run my Vagina. Stoopid Vagina.

Anyway, we walk along and are talking about random shit when my supervisor explains one of my main flaws. He calls it "The Bones Effect" and it really is pretty ingenious.

See, I religiously watch Bones. I do and not because I love it.... I watch it because I hate it.

Let me explain:

Bones is like CSI but shitty. I would love Bones if CSI didn't exist but it does... So Fuck Bones.
Bones is the same show as NCIS. (Side note: I dubbed it NCSI by me because every time it came on I'd get excited like "OH shit!!! It's a new CSI... Wait! This isn't CSI. This is Not CSI..." Hence NCSI.) It is also the same show as Criminal Minds. They have main characters I don't care about, 1 kinda hot guy and "the Quirky Chick" who sits in front of a computer, cuz she's too quirky to leave the fuckin lab.
Bones (the character) isn't pretty. Not in the least. But they like to pretend like she's beautiful. She isn't. That bitch looks like a skeleton with a wig on and I hate her nasal ass voice. A lot.
They keep trying to pretend Angela (the quirky chick w the computer) is sexy. She isn't. She's just promiscuous.
The plots are horrible. The "Avatar" episode combined two things I loathe, Avatar and shitty ass Bones. Side note: I hate Avatar cuz its Fern Gully meets Brave heart in 3D combined with the one thing that James Cameron invariably supplies me with : A runtime that is at least 1 hour longer than necessary.

Yet, I watch this show weekly on Hulu. Just to confirm that I really do hate it and that I should hate it. A lot.

Apparently I have the same dating pattern. I date people I hate but I stay around just to be sure that I hate them and that my reasons are valid. "The Bones Effect".... is the reason I fail at dating. Yup.

So we part ways and I'm off down 5th avenue to 14th. I thought I was going to W 14th but I was headed to E 14th. Wikipedia told me that 5th ave is the dividing line so I go right, hit Union Square, walk past NYU and find my location and a Kennedy Fried Chicken. I proceed to laugh for a good 10 mins at this fake ass KFC.

I still don't know where I'm headed to at this point. I meet up home girls home girl and we kick it and head off to the meat packing district... where they pack meat. We wander into STK and I'm drunk. Flat out. The door holder guy opens the door and I hear Journey's "Don't stop believing". I proceed to yell out "This is my Jam!" Then I pull the door guy close and go "I love this song but I suspect that it is about Promiscuous bar sex. I'm just saying. Peep the lyrics." I know realize that this probably constitutes flirting. Shrug. Fuck it. I get a 14 dollar glass of Riesling and we wait for my girl.

Now dinner was supposed to be at 10:30. We don't get seated til like 11:30 and I gotta go by 12:30 sos I can catch my last train. I give home girl and the waitress a heads up cuz I def wanna cover some of the bill before I roll. I get miraculously drunker throw some dough at the bill and run off. Make my train after watching 2 people fall down and telling someone how important it is to have fun, regardless of whether you end up looking alil foolish. "Acting cool" cockblocks fun. Real talk.

Get home and pass the hells out. Slept til it hurt. Woke up and assembled furniture. I am still in my unpacking phase. I commend myself several times for ensuring that my drunk self made it home last night. Yay me. Yay responsible!

I end up taking a mid day nap. I was watching "Inkheart" but it sucked. Spoiler- If you read aloud and shit happens, and you read aloud and accidentally suck your wife into a book and suck bad guys out.... Would you A) wander around looking for the book that you read and lost so you could attempt to read your wife out of the book or B) sit down and write "My wife miraculously emerges from the book adorned in platinum jewelry while the bad guys that I accidentally read out of the book are simultaneously sucked back in...."?

You'd choose B cuz A is stoopid. Well the premise of the movie is that he chooses A. Jackass.

I wake up to my brother telling me that we are going clubbing on the Jersey shore! What what. We head off to this club and it is everything I dreamed. Bad chunky highlights. Ed Hardy. Bronzer and a fist pump. Werd.

So, I order 3 drinks. Bill comes. 18 dollars. What a stark difference from the previous day. I order more. I get accidentally drunk. I end up talking to this guy in the air force about how sometimes you gotta save people but fuck it, sometimes folks gotta die. Shrug.

I hear there's been a fight in the bathroom but I gotta pee so I go thataway. There is a shitload of blood. Seriously. The floor of one stall is covered in blood and glass and there's a girl outside the bathroom with her arm elevated and security applying pressure.

None of this stopped my need to pee so I go into the stall next to the bloody one and keep it moving. On my way out I usher other folk to the empty stalls, which is all of them. Tip: If someone in the bathroom breaks their glass and accidentally slices an artery or some shit, go to the bathroom. There's no line. None.

We dip out and head to the crib. I am awoken by two youths. It is Mother's day at my brother and his girlfriend's spot. I got to meet her kids and honestly, though I am not really with the whole kid thing, they are wonderful adorable bundles of youth.

I go home later that day after hanging with them and I pop up in the house. I harass my dad and we watch "9". And its cute.

I love the New of the city and the contrast of Red Bank which is quiet and calm. I have still given up on dating, at least until I conquer this "Bones Effect". There's one constant in the background. He knows who he is and to me, he is my ideal but for now, I'm just celi-chilling, makin dough and enjoyin the OD of this city.

Anatomy of a Good Ass Grift : The Hustle Chronicles

2010-04-23T17:05:00.000-07:00

See also: Anatomy of a Hustle

This chick came on my NJ transit train today wit the ill sob story.

*sniff sniff* (wait for it, I'm bout to break this down.)

I'm so sorry to bother you. My son and I are stranded here. We have no money and we are just trying to get home. *sniffle sniffle* I am asking that if you have something to spare, it would be a blessing. I am trying to raise 24 dollars. *sniffle sniffle* Thank you for your time.

Now...... This bitch was a pro. Jewelry, light makeup. Right age for a mother. Low ponytail. Light sniffles, no tears. Big purse, well dressed. Motherfuckers starting diggin in purses and shit and then this one guy goes "She does that shit everyday. Same fucking story."

She was smart, tho.

She hit up the transit.

Probably commuters. People not worn down by city grifting.
She never said she was robbed.

Draws attention and possibly brings the cops into the equation.
If someone starts to ask why she has no money she can dip because....
She didn't bring her "son" with her.

Where is this "oft spoken of but never seen kid? On the platform? Being watched by Amtrak employees? Don't matter, he's a quick escape in case shit goes awry.
She hit her demographic on the head....

Cuz her demographic is everyone.
Single mothers. Fathers. Sons. Just pullin heart strings and weaving sob fuckin stories.
She asked for a reasonable amount of dough.

24 dollars is the cost of 2 one way NJ transit tickets. She could get ones, fives, tens, even big ball with a 20. She could do this in every car between the 10-15 minutes alloted for boarding.
and rule No. 1....
Leave no victims. We're all bout to leave on a train. Who the fuck we complainin to?

I give that bitch kudos. Getting caught in a solid grift aint shit to be ashamed of. That shits an art.

Similar shit happened in Miami.

(This will be hazy. I was drunk most of the time) Walking down the street with my girl. This older broad and younger broad are walking past us. The older one stops my friend and says "I just want to tell you one thing...." And then follows it up with some shit like "He loves you" or some dumb shit. She goes on to explain her psychic "gifts". The younger one starts in on me with this "free reading" bullshit..... with the caveot that if I thought she'd earned it, it would be 40 bucks.

And the convo goes like this:

Me: I don't carry money so naw. Ill pass on the reading. I'd hate for you to do all that work and then I have nothing to give you.

Psychic: There are always atms.

Me: Naw. I don't trust them things. Plus, I don't think I really want to know my future. I enjoy the surprises. I think that's what lifes all about.

Psychic: Well, I can tell youu have a beautiful spirit. I'd like to give you one of these stones...

Me: (at this point I get excited) Ooooooo. I have stones, too.
(At this point, I pull out a drawstring bag with several pieces of Agate, Hematite, Amethysis, Snowflake Obsidion and a Shiva Lingam)

Psychic: Those are really nice.

So I break down each stone and explain them to her. I tell her that Ill pass on her piece of clear crystal quartz.... Pass.

Psychic: Oh, do you mind if I smoke?

Me: No. But you really should try nicorette.

Psychic: I tried the patch, but it didn't work. Is this different?

I explain the difference. Between the patch and nicorette and leave her with a couple of pieces. She hugs me and by then my friend was ready to go...

The end result... My friend got a $40 dollar psychic reading because she got snared into "Letting someone tell her what she wanted to hear".

Beware of flatterers and those bearing gifts. Sychophants kill me. They do. I no heart that shit so I averted. That and the daughter wasn't as seasoned as the mother. Breakdown of a hustle: Go for 2. If you can't get 2..... Separate so that you can make sure you get at least 1.

The daughter was the wingman. Had I been all "Oh, I'm bored let's go".... (Tho I'm really not that chick) it would have spoiled the hustle. Made a good story in the end (though if you ask my friend, I'm sure she'll have something different to say.

"There is no such thing as a no sale call. A sale is made on every call you make. Either you sell the client some stock or he sells you a reason he can't. Either way a sale is made, the only question is who is gonna close? You or him?"

I can't fault a hustle. Everythings a hustle. Some just dress it up more than others. A stripper grindin on a pole, pretending to love you and only you til you run out of dollars... A straight up grifter... Or you at your job, readin this blog and pretending like its work... A good hustle.... I commend that shit. Clap, clap Bravo. When done right... That shit is a work of art and fuck it. Everybody's got to make a living.

Bitch, I want cranberry juice!

2010-04-22T18:47:00.000-07:00

I feel like my attitude was hand crafted for this city. I always did like cities. That's why I got an urban studies degree. There's this collective swarming energy in cities that is damn near palpable.

I've been wandering Tribeca, the Village and Chelsea on my way home and I just dig the vibe. If silent (or drunken, boisterous) observation is the name of the game then I had excellent training. Atlanta taught me how to wander and observe at all hours of day or night, head phones on, head up and eyes forward. Like Dc with training wheels. A friendly host of homelessness, poverty and piss smell.

Dc was more ramped up. Alil faster but definitely less frenetic than NY. This shit is crazy. So I work in the same building as ClearChannel Radio. My first day I am headed in and I see Tiny exiting the building.

That shoulda told me everything right there...

NY has taught me that God's greatest gift to man is that of observation. The shit that you will see if you just pay attention.

The other day I saw a dude with a cockatoo on a leash standin next to me on 8th. People kept walking past and startling the bird. It kept trying to fly away but couldn't go anywhere cuz its ankle was leashed. Smh. Silly bird.

One of the things that strikes me as odd is people stopping in Penn Station. Like imagine hundreds of people walking around and one person just stops. Then they get upset when they get clipped. Would you just stop your car in the middle of the highway? No. You'd pull over. Same thing with Penn Station. Pull yo confused ass over.

I love how there are whole blocks that will sell you anything you want. You want fake Ed Hardy? Got you, son! You want shitty jewelry and a banging Vietnamese sammich from the same establishment? Got it! Want gay sex toys? Blocks and blocks of stores tryin to bring you giant dildos and fists 24 hrs a day. The land o plenty it is. O plenty.

I don't even remember half of last friday.

I know the following:

I double fisted some cocktails.
I ran my hands thru some guys hands while on line for the bathroom.
I didn't eat food but I did buy a stromboli.
I berated someone at a Starbucks.
I lost my MTA card.
I passed out on the train.
I gave up on Black Love. (I'll give details but only upon request)
I got sick.
Think I blacked out.
I tried to go to the damn bodega again to get juice and all they had was fucking Tamarind and Mango! Again.... Bitch, I want cranberry juice!(God damn Bodegas!)

Learned a valuable lesson: Being Drunk in NY is fun. Being Piss drunk in NY is not....

I'm headed back to DC and I am apprehensive. I used to dread goin back before I lived here and though I miss my cousin and my bestest Eve.... I still hate the glum lull that I feel heading back there. I'm happy with the move. I love being by my dad. He's super funny and we chill and watch movies and eat sushis.

I'm glad I've moved. I'm very happy with my decision.

The Ideological Oxymoron and the 14 dollar "Gourmet" Grilled Cheese.

2010-04-10T17:09:00.000-07:00

So, I made it to the big city. Yeah. Me. I made it.

Tuesday was my first day and I think I love the city, though I cannot seem to escape the damn commercial that's running through my head.

I get on my A.M. commuter train at 7:20, which for me is insane. Insane. I haven't seen 7 something in the morning in like ever.

I gets on my train and arrive in the most fucked up place ever. Penn motherfucking station. I get lost deep in Penn Station and then I wander over to the A train to get to work.

Get off the train and Im lost. Straight up lost. I found an awesome store. They'll sell me anything for 2 dollars. Anything!

I go to work and I like it. After work I head home and make it into bed by midnight. This is my new thing. I go to work and I go home for good sleep.

The next couple of days are interesting. I go to work. I get lost. I get on the wrong A train, get off at 59th street and turn around. The train driver keeps saying "Have an optimistic day" and a Geico Gecko is on the train. Hehehe Gecko.

This is what lives outside of my office.

Not to mention the Ghostbuster fire house.

Sophia and I catch up on friday. We head off to a birthday party. We drink a shitload of drinks and eat 14 dollar "gourmet" grilled cheese sandwiches while trying to ignore "The fake nerd" sitting behind us in an Argyle sweater and hipster frames. Phia checked to see if he was wearing chucks but no. No, he wasn't. Had he had some chucks and a backpack and a skateboard, we could have sent him off with Pharrell and them.

I glanced over my shoulder and made eye contact with a cute guy in a suit. He was friendly looking and clean cut and looked employed. Yay for employment. Then I turn my attention back to the action in front of me for 2 reasons.

I was at a birthday party and didn't want to be rude.
I like a man who knows what he wants and knows how to take the lead. I opened the door, by making eye contact and I wanted to see if he'd be man enough to walk through that door.

He was and he did. I like that so I gave him my number.

Sophia and I went to the bathroom and got caught up in a convo about Vegas, H & M, Miami, plumbing, tile.... And the next thing we know, some girl runs into the bathroom talking about "Oh my god. Its a fight."

Uh Uh. This is ridiculous. We head upstairs to get our shit. Once it's a fight, it's time to go.

That actually turned out to be more difficult than it was worth so we just sat back down and get two more drinks.

This random guy crooks his finger to ask me to come over to him. I have several problems with this. Several.

First off, he is standing up and already not that far from me. I am not getting up when you are already standing up.

Second, He was not cute. Not at all.

3rd, I didn't get him. No. Really I didn't. He had locks and a white polo with a collar that may or may not have been popped. Like, seriously. Your hair is saying one thing and your top is saying another and the combo of the two is bullshit. You are displaying conflicting ideologies and honestly, I don't like either of them but now you just look like an oxymoronic douchebag.... Sighhhh......

So, I say flat out, "I'm not getting up. You can come over here."

Again with he crooked finger and the demanding eye.

I repeat myself.

Again with the god damn finger.

So I say "Dude I'm not fucking getting up. Fuck it. Whatever." and I put my head on the table.

When I lift my head he is mouthing "I like your style....."

Fuck....

Argyle sweater pops up again with a drink for someone. He tries to hand it to one girl. She says no. He tries to hand it to Sophie and me.... We pull him back over and ask him what it is. He says it's a Malibu something. We then force him to drink half, in spite of his loud protests that it is too sweet. Once we are satisfied that he hasn't roofied it by using him as our taste tester, we swap out his straw for ours and go to town on that shit.

He asks me what I do. I tell him that I'm an Evidence Tech at a computer forensic consulting firm.

He says "Oh. Like prosecution shit".

Me: Noooooo.

Him: So what do you do?

Me: I'm an evidence tech at a computer forensics consulting firm.

Him: Oh. So, like IT.

Me: Nooooo. God. Sound it out. Wtf. Break it down by the base words. The BASE WORDS.

At this point I'm just being rude and I give up. Time to dip. We pee and grab our shit. I check in with the guy I gave my number to and tell him to hit me up tomorrow and we're out.

We wander to Penn Station and I get on the last train and head home...

All in all, dranks occurred and we have a great NY experience. I curse out a guy, we spend 14 dollars on a "Gourmet" grilled cheese sandwich and my drunk ass gets home around 3. I like it here. I do. Quite happy

Best way to never run into your Ex Jump Off's ever again

2010-03-16T21:18:00.000-07:00

I realized while driving home from Jersey after dropping a load of stuff off in Jersey that the best way that you can truly avoid running into your Ex Jump offs ever again is to just plain move to another city.

NYC is a whole new crop of man folk. A whole new crop of penis and adventure. Yay Penis. Yay Adventure.

My new shrink says I should fall in love. According to him, 27 is a great age to fall in love. I told him Love was a really strong word and that maybe he should use the word "like" instead.

The NY transition and the DC exit requires a whole set of rules. Seriously. So, here it goes:

The term "Love" is on Pause....
I think that shit has been thrown around way too often. By me, By other folks, By everyone. So that shit.... On pause. Love is not to be replaced with the term "Strongly Like". Like this shit is a survey or something. Fuck it.
I am no longer going to off brand clubs or to shit on off brand nights.
I work in an office. Sunday - Thursday, contrary to recent club promoter ads, are not clubbing nights. I cannot hang on those days. Off brand clubs.... You know who you are. No. No. No.
Lines and Covers.
I can't do both. I can't. If your club is poppin enough to need a cover, I can't stand in a line. If your club is hot enough to need a line, I can't deal with a cover. Both? Really? Both? I can't do both. Shit.

I'm a female. I have Vagina. Let me break it down for you.
The goal of a club is to sell drinks. The door doesn't make shit compared to the motherfucking bar.

Honestly there are three types of people who buy drinks:
1. Men
2. Ugly Women
3. Attractive women who don't want to be bothered by having to talk to ugly men who just bought them an 8 dollar drink.
Straight men don't want to go to a club without attractive women. So to get the women there, we should get in free. That shit is basic fucking economics.
Men...... Oh men....
Hmmmm. This is gonna be alil bit much. I want it all. 100%. No half stepping. No cheating ass dudes. No players or crazies or nothing. Just gooduns.
1. No half steppin.
  If you are a pop up and disappearing type dude... kick rocks. You're not welcome.
2. If you ask me "When does your shift end?"....
  We ain't gonna make it. I don't work that kind of job or those kinds of jobs.
3. If I ask you what school you went to and you go off about how "People don't need college to succeed"....
  We aint gonna make it. There are all kinds of schools in this world. Pre-school... Middle School.... High School.... You had to attend at least one and when you go off on a hostile tangent, it just displays your baggage that I don't want to deal with.
4. Comparisons to your Ex's.
  Keep that. Save it and your baggage for the next one. I aint that chick and trust, she isn't me.
5. Weigh the pros and the cons.
  I can be difficult. I am... and thats honest. Don't disrespect me. Don't come at me wrong. Don't try and play me. But I have pros too. I'm smart. I dress well. I can write. I am funny. I am pretty. I will break your back. That's real shit. Balance it out. Deal or walk.

I've been writing and focusing lately. Working on my own screenplay. That and the moving and the upcoming going away pandemonium is makin shit alil hectic. No lie. I'm ramping up for a huge blow out leave fest of shit. I will lose my shoes. I will come home with strange bruises. I will not remember half of it.... and that is as shit should be. Thus is life.

Two Tranny Hookers & a Coke binge at the Bronx Zoo

2010-02-26T11:57:00.000-08:00

Yeah. I took a hiatus. I ain't gonna lie.

1st off, with the blizzarding of the DC metropolitan area, I ain't gone nowhere and I definitely ain't did shit. The Lsats were on the 5th and got "snowed out". I took that as a sign from God and postponed that shit until October. The next one was in June but it was on a Monday and that shit ain't the business.

On a personal note, I am leavin DC. I'm headin off to New Jersey to live with pops. I'll be working in New York... This is bound to lead to more interesting stories. Not DC centric stories, but definitely stories. Like that last time in New York, New Years Eve.... Some people invited us into a limo. God knows where that could have led. I anticipate many interesting NY stories. Imagine.... Two Trannie hookers and a coke binge at the Bronx zoo. It could happen.

With all the snow, I ended up slamming out the screenplay that I was working on with a friend. Done and done. I'm looking forward to future collaborations. I enjoyed the process.

I am faced with a dilemma. I have been "Monogamying..... (with 1 individual grandfathered in)" for the last 5 or so months. Just cuz I'm single, don't mean I like to run the street..... Now I gotta lookit "Goodbye Goodies".

I told Oh So Sexy that I was leaving. He said that he was sad that he would no longer have me to greet him when he comes back home but that it would give him a good reason to plan more trips to NY.

Of all the things that could have been said, he pick just the right ones. That man has magic words, amongst other things.

Ill be leaving behind my regular, which is sad for me. He is all I've known for the past few months and he's been patient and understanding. I've been dealing with alot and it's been trying. I would love to keep him but with all of the recent things that have been overwhelming, I am not sure that the feeling is mutual. I don't want to be the only one fighting for something, you know?

I have this policy about fool-hardy love. I call it the "You only get one" policy. You get one Fool Hardy, stupid, ridiculously emotional love and desperate love in your life. One. You can chase that love to the ends of the earth. You can chase it for years, bankrupt yourself, catch aids and die.... But you only get one. So choose that insane love wisely.

I picked mine already. Sophomore year of high school. Charles. And I chased it. I ran that motherfucker into the ground. I can't say I didn't try but I had my one and that was it.

I don't have anymore foolhardy love allowances left so to chase this one into the ground for someone who I feel doesn't really want it... Well, as I said before, you only get one.

One promise I'll make to you, I'll get back on my random musings. I used to take intricate notes. This year I've been too busy living. I will go out more. I will nurture budding romances that will hopefully lead to sex and shit. Sex and shit.

Soon I will start work on the second screenplay. Very excited about this. I'll make wit the stories. Promise.

Forgot one last thing: Imma beat the breaks off DC before I walk away. You will see me in these streets. Drunk and actin an ass. Imma lose it all. Shoes. Morals...and panties. I called it. You heard it. SHUT IT DOWN!

What had happened before i got busy

2010-02-07T08:38:00.000-08:00

Preface: I wrote this about a two weeks ago. I met up with my "FB wife" and ended up partying. I totally missed out on writing the second part, which definitely involved a drunk girl biting my knee and wound down with her crying at the cops. Side note: Do not get drunk and hysterically plead your case to your local constabulary. It merely annoys them. Especially at 4am. Their goal is just to get your drunken and debaucherous ass out of the street. Whatever. I didn't have time to write about it. I just wrote about Friday, and Shall supply it forthwith:

Saturday OD'd on itselfs. I woke up at around noon. This was after the club pandemonium which I'm so not gonna get into except for this one part....

I hit my boy Mitch and he just ushers us in, no line, which is nice cuz I can't bear waiting. I love the park. Security is the same folk from the now defunct Love and they always make with the hugs. Head up to 4 and my bartender is up there. Pay attention cuz this is the best tip ill ever give you : tip your bartender well. Look out for them and they'll hold you down.
We stopped by Jerrys, across from HU hospital after the club and there was a homeless woman yappin her ass off. I wasn't even payin attention until she said " You got to pay me to suck the dick. I won't suck it for free and it won't suck itself..." To which I nod and think, Nope. That dick won't suck itself.

Then she went on a tirade about how Jesus robbed her and how she wasn't feminine like her sister. Now we all end up talkin bout how jesus ran up on her house and got her for her Flatscreen. Somewhere in here she decided to let Fred, Tam, Mo and I know that she'd fuck all of us for a quarter cuz "You got the boots, she got the coat, she got the skirt and he got the shoes". We're dying at this point cuz that's like 6 cents a piece and if you'd fuck us for 6 cents, let's be real, you'd do it for free. I give her a dollar to not fuck any of us.

Our food had been ready by now but we were just too busy laughin to leave. Fred was videotaping and I was straight crying.

Head back, eat food and I drop Mo off. It was a good time. Wake up the next day and feel like pooh.

END SCENE

Since then I have been in 2 modes..... LSAT study mode (which got postponed due to the snow.) and Screenplay mode.... which is still in process. I do what I can and bloggins is ending up in the "cant" pile right now. The LSATS will be what they will. I've been studying off and on since childhood. Hope that helps.... shrug. I dunno who the fuck is taking these courses but they seem to run about 1200-1500 dollars. I'm good on that. ermmmm. Off to work now. Off to work.

Take that! Take that! and the legion of bammas... (NYC pt. 2)

2010-01-24T16:02:00.000-08:00

Flash forward to the A.M.

I woke up and needed to coordinate like 8 things. I needed to get fed, get checked out, coordinate my pickup from the hotel by one of my oldest besties and work out how the seeing of "Old/New" guy.

1st things 1st.... Breakfast. "Bridesmaid number 2" and I put on clothes and head out. After wanderin to 5 different places that we don't quite dig, we settle on a deli. Food is eaten and then we head back to the hotel. I check out and pay my ridiculous ass bill.... My old roomie comes and scoops me and we take a trek across the world and into Bx.

I realized at this point that NY is ginormous. Its like 5 cities smacked together. I realize that I might love it there. We get to my home girls crib and I arrange with "Old/New" guy to meet us at the crib. We all end up having jello shots and reminiscing about "the old days". I realize that I like "Old/New" guy. I realized that I dig his style. Its feisty and different. After a year of the same... He is this breath of fresh air. Shrug.

We end up going to get Chinese food, head back to the crib and follow up that wit more alcohol.

Bestie and I head out to a house party at like midnight. We enter the house and head straight to the kitchen. Bacardi time. We keep pouring drinks and drinking them. Soon as the cup is about half way, we pour new shit in the glass and we dub this "Remixin it".

I decide that I'm the lost member of Bad Boy and Bestie and I run around sayin "Take that. Take that"

Bestie gets mesmerized by this one dudes sweater. It has a geometric textured pattern that seems to just cut off mid sweater. She keeps tracing it with her finger and going "Why does it just stop!???". Her question is valid.

Turns out that this is a birthday party. Now the tres leches cake makes an appearance. We keep talking about the 3 milks, cuz at this point we are drunk. Real drunk. We end up talking about Trey Songz penis and that song "Invented sex".

We take issue with the lines:
"When you climb on top of me... Girl you gone think, girl you gone think, girl you gone think, you gone think I invented sex".

That makes no sense... If I climb on top of you, I'm doing all the work.... And if I'm doing all the work, Bitch, I invented sex.

Apparently, "Geometric random sweater guy" came with a whole bamma crew. This guy in a three quarter length army green coat with all these buttons and patches in latin keeps eyein me. I look away but he keeps staring. Eventually he walks over and says hello.

Me: Hey.
3/4 guy: What's up with you?
Me: Chillin. So, what do your buttons say?
3/4 guy: Mountaineers.
Me: Hmmm... that seems unlikely as there are 3 separate words and "Mountaineer" is only one...
3/4 guy: Naw. It's like Spanish. Like there are multiple words but it stands for one word.
Me: Lies.
3/4 guy: Ok. So what does it mean?
Me: (after a quick google)"Vires Montesque Vincimus" means "We overcome might and mountains".
3/4 guy: See. Mountaineers....
Me: Hmmm..... Yeah. (thinking to myself how I shall call him mountain bamma in my mind from here on out.)
(Mountain Bammas brother rolls up)
Mountain Bamas Brother: Yo. My brother fought in the infantry. He served his country. You got a problem with that?
Me: That, actually has nothing to do with this conversation. I gotta go find my friend.
3/4 guy: Ok

Have you ever tried to run from a guy at a house party? Not a good look. So we go into the living room and sit down. "Mountain bamma" comes in and starts dancing with this chick. Next thing you know , he spills her drink all over her. Sighhhhh Bammas.

We get in line for the bathroom and this dude rolls up on Bestie.

Dude: Yo. Where'd you get that drink?
Bestie: Umm, the kitchen?
Dude: Oh. Can you get me one?
Bestie: The kitchen is right there and we're on line for the bathroom sooooo no.
Dude: Oh.

After "Mountain Bamma" runs up on me and steals a kiss, we are pretty much done. Head back to the crib and pass out.

Wake up the next day and go eat food at this Dominican spot. Realize that they don't really speak English and we don't really speak Spanish. This causes problems but when we do get food, it is most definitely tasty.

Head off to Co Op city to play Wii and watch House and chill. Make our way over to the Red Lobster and I realized that Rum is where it's at. Go back to the crib, drunk and happy. Spend alil quality time with "Old/New" guy while watching United States of Tara.

I head home the next day with a new sense of resolve. I want that intangible magical quality in my life. Making the extraordinary a part of my everyday.

It was a good trip to say the least. I returned with a new sense of focus and have been "Phone caking" with "Old/New" guy ever sense. shrug..... It's good to be 27.

Throwing Rose Petals at strangers in Times Square (NYC part 1)

2010-01-06T19:00:00.000-08:00

Let me rewind a bit before we get into the details from my NY extravaganza.

The day after Christmas, I took my mother to Dover to see my brother.... I was so aggravated by the process of getting to Dover that I forgot to write about it last time I wrote.

Okay, so we are headed to Dover. Already we are running late. I had to get my hair and toes done for the NYE wedding that I was headed to. Mom and I get on the road and we are following the New GPS. His name is "Jason". No, Seriously. Before it was this british chick who just plain drove me nuts. Anywho. Jason is kindly directing us to "McGlynns" in Dover and not doing a bad job of it. But according to my mother, GPS and Jason are both morons. What we need to do is drive to up 95 and then go on the Delaware Memorial bridge. I try to explain to my mother that just because the Bridge is in Delaware doesnt mean it is anywhere near Dover. But Jason is only so loud and please believe that my mom is louder. Way Louder. So after cursing alot and explaining to my mother that only one person could direct us, either her or the GPS, we end up going her route.

Every time she directs me to get off of the GPS Route, I glance down at the distance-o-meter that Jason has kindly displayed in my dash and not that the new route that he has to calculate has added on an additional 10 miles to account for the wrong direction that we are headed in. I try and breathe. I really do. Then I snap and threaten to pull the car over, as she had ceased to stop yelling this entire time, and called her an "insufferable c*nt". Seriously. Merry F*ckng Xmas.

We finally start following Jason's route and though it was not the most convenient route, it was the fastest. Quite foggy, but still fast. Had a lovely dinner with my brother and mother and then trekked home. Typical ass Xmas....

So, as I mentioned above, I had a wedding to go to. Let's start with the day before New Years Eve.

I woke up in time. Headed off to CVS to get pantyhose, a sandwich and a ride from my cousin. So I get my pantyhose, go next door to get my sammich and head over to Cuzzos. Get a work email and in the distraction, I left my sammich on the top of her car. Didn't realize til we were half way down North Capital. There goes breakfast/lunch.

So I get to the bus and realize that I gave my cuzzo my gloves to wear. Fuck it. Ill be a cold bitch in NY, I guess..... Nope. Cuzzo came back and brought me my gloves. That is love. Real love.

I get on the bus and sit down. The two girls behind me are discussing how to make a gravity bong like it is something new that they just made up. They are young and loud.

I realize that:

They are mouthy broads.
They think their conversation is interesting to everyone around them and are being loud so they can share this "Amazing conversation" with the world.
I hate them.
I have often been a mouthy broad.
I hate that about myself and will work hard to change it.

So I am headed into NY and I realize that it is a Full Moon, a Lunar Eclipse, New Year and my birthday, plus I would be at a wedding. Hmmmmm.

Long bus ride short, I get to NY and I am over an hour late. I then wait an additional hour for a cab. Get to the hotel and check in. I am severely late and missed the rehearsal dinner. I order a 30 dollar tuna sandwich from room service. It was a good ass sammich. I tell you that.

I put on shoes and go off in the world. I found Central Park.

I am a fan of Olmstead so I decide to wander over and pretend I am in an episode of Law and Order "SVU".

I headed over to Duane Reed (which I love), get lots of diet soda and head back to the Hotel.

Get back and meet up with the bride to hash out the details of the big day. Headed downstairs and hang out with "Bridesmaid No. 1" at the bar. We talk about NJ and NY and life and love.

We drink lots of vodka. Lots. Next thing you know, the following question is posited: "What do you call a gay guy who hates straight guys?".... The guy next to us says, "Harvard Grad?".... No. apparently the answer is: Heterophobe.

End up in a conversation with one guy about how DC makes no sense.... and I am trying to explain to him how its a grid and NY is much easier to navigate. He apparently hates the quadrants. (shrug...fuck Imma do.)

Soon we are discussing how I feel that sex just ain't right unless I'm at least 80 percent nude and then the bartender is talking about how the levels of rigidity and sexual conservatism in various cultures has an effect on how much clothing is worn during the act to keep the focus on procreation as opposed to exploring someones body in enjoyment.

Interesting....

Realize that I am too drunk. Way too drunk.

Stoopid vodka. I get sick. Twice. I realize that I should avoid Vodka. I realize that I must assist in wedding shortly. Sighhhhh.

I woke up the next morning with my head throbbing. I drink alot of water and order a 50 dollar breakfast. It was good but I was so hung over I prayed for death. I take my cell, blackberry and wedding folder and head off to the bride. I peep out the window.

Beautiful. Just Beautiful.

Run around a see the reception space. Make sure that everything is ready.

Go to the wedding. Very nice. Very Catholic.

I get back and head up to the reception area. There is a slight Snafu. The Florist was supposed to scatter rose petals on the tables. They really just dropped off a shit load of roses so me and my assigned partner in crime scatter flowers over the tables and still have 2 dozen left over.

I go and get a cocktail and eat hors d'oeuvres. We reception. We reception HARD!!!!

There were these great centerpieces at the table and my buddy "Bridesmaid Number 2" won one. Now "Bridesmaid Number 2" lives in Maine and is going back the next day. IDEA!!!!

I now use my new "Rose Breakdown Technique" and a big bag... We fill this bag with rose petals..... Help the bride and groom wrap things up and then "Bridesmaid Number 2" and I go to Times Square at 2am and toss handfuls of rose petals at people. They seemed to enjoy it but please, be sure to say "Rose Petals". Otherwise they freak the fuck out. It was definitely a new adventure.

I spent the rest of the night talking to an "Old/New" guy. I've known him for a while but not as in depth as I would have liked to. That was how I spent the last few hours of my 26th year and the first few hours of my 27th year. I think it was one of the more quiet, pleasant and thoughtful experiences of my life. I ended the year with a peculiar feeling of strength, power and quiet reflection.

(Stay tuned for NYC Part 2)

365.242199 days of kissing strangers

2009-12-29T00:02:00.000-08:00

Man. Miss Amber was right. How you spend the New Year will determine and shape your entire year. Last year, I was drunk.

I tried to study and failed miserably. I kissed a stranger. I met a nice guy who drove me home. I went home alone. I did not get laid.

I spent my birthday drinking Mimosas, avoiding my phone, eating good food and resting.

This is how my entire year went. I tried to study. I kissed Strangers. Male and female. Single and married. I kissed folk (and shockingly didn't get Mono or Swine Flu).

At 26, I managed to never lose my Morals, My Shoes, My Panties or My Car. I am a tamer me. A much tamer Me. I didn't "almost get arrested". Not even once.

I learned to laugh this year. Deep, hearty laughter. Something I hadn't done genuinely in a very long time.

I worked on "Authenticity" this year. Making sure that my outsides matched my insides. No fake smiles. No happiness covering up shit. I was me, through and through. For better or worse, no matter whom it inconvenienced.

And I ate. I ate food. And I enjoyed it. I met people, I went on dates and I enjoyed myself. It's hard to do that when you don't eat. Amazing how simple shit like eating food and generally being able to enjoy the company of those around you on a fundamental level makes such a difference.

I walked away alot this year. Whenever someone made me uncomfortable or anxious or sad, I left. I put me first. All year. I made sure that my needs came first. After spending years making sure others were comfortable (often at my own expense), I made sure that I felt safe.

I fell in love at least 3 times. Admittedly, these loves were of varying quality. Some more genuine and deeply felt than others. I fell in like so often it was ridiculous.

I wrote alot. 170 some odd posts. I wrote cuz I needed to and the more I wrote, the less I needed to. I've tried to explain.... I wrote because I needed to write. For the longest time, my thoughts were stuck. In my head and my throat. I didn't have a voice to say what I needed to, because I wasn't sure that what I had to say was significant. My thoughts and feelings festered, until I realized that it didn't matter. It didn't matter if no one wanted to hear it; if it was inconvenient or ugly or gritty or just plain fucked up. It didn't matter if no one wanted to hear it because I still needed to say it.

I have readers now but even when I didn't, when my words and my voice were not defined, it didn't change my need to say what i felt. The passion, the words, they came. I don't write for you. I write because I have to. For me. It's cathartic.

Somehow in my haze of fuckery from the past, I didn't have a clear vision of who I was. Often, when I thought I was "the bad guy", I was actually being quite deftly taken advantage of. I just didn't have the luxury of selectively perceiving myself to my own benefit. Perhaps being hard on myself has allowed me a more realistic perspective when it comes to my own life. Sometimes I'm good. Sometimes I'm bad. I just have the ability to clearly see the difference and not sugarcoat the gray in between.

Aldous Huxley said "An intellectual is a person who has discovered something more interesting than sex."

I don't know how true or false that shit is, but I know what interests me and it ain't sex.

So this New Year.... I will be in New York. I will be assisting in a wedding. The next days after that, Ill be with my homeys. Last year was hectic. Without focus, I pissed away 365.242199 days just kissing strangers, and shopping. This year, much more focused. Much more direction. Much more heart.

2010. It'll be a good year, with more direction... More purpose. 2008 was just me trying to catch my breath. 2009 was me, learning to crawl, to stand, to walk. 2010, I'll run. Cuz I'm meant for more than what I've been doing. Its more than writing. More than love or hate. I got a vision for 2010.

Chartering Unicorns for personal transport.

2009-12-16T18:55:00.000-08:00

Let us start at the beginning because that it the logical place to start.

I woke up Saturday and did my "Gettin my toes done" dance. It's a solid dance. It looked alittle like this:

Gettin my toes done. Gettin my toes done. Walk outside..... boppin to my car.

Walk toward my car and think, "Wow. Either my window is hella clean or I left that junt open" bop bop bop. Get to my car and see glass on the seat. Very very sad face.

Thieves managed to fuck up my window and thief my indash system, so ofcourse I did the 1st logical thing. I text my dad and my brother and say, "Car got broken into" and dad texts back "Are you ok?" to which I reply "That question makes no sense. I wasn't in the car. Wtf?".

So I call the car insurance people and they tell me that they cannot fix my window until Monday. This marks the first of several instances in which I wonder why the fuck I pay for car insurance. Stoopid car insurance.

I decide to do the only logical thing. I get into my car and drive to my cousins house to drink wine and ponder the all important question "If your window is broken, even if you tape it with all kinds of plastics, do i still need to lock the door? I mean, the windows broken..... do it matter?"

Whatever. Cuzzo and I drink wines and I am late for the bachelorette antics so off I run. It's cold as hell and I manage to get a migraine on the metro. Whatever. I am cold and contemplating my life.

I was gonna move down to Atlanta for school but the logistics aren't quite right.

I need 3 Things to relocate:

School - Which would be the whole reason to move in the 1st place.
Employment - Which will finance the move and the educationing.
Housing - So that I have a place to live and sleep while I learn and work.

If I can accomplish 2 and 3 prior to one and get in state tuition, I will cut my costs in half, making all the proceeds from no. 2 stretch just alil bit further.

Now my mother wants me to move to Atlanta to go to school, so I call her because the logistics don't make any mother-fucking sense.

I let her know that I can move there but I would need to live with her for a couple of weeks to be able to interview and secure a job prior to getting an apartment.
The response I got was as follows:

"You should just do what I did when I relocated down south and fly back and forth for interviews".....

After having my car broken into and drinking drank, I lost my shit and informed her that she must have lost her fucking mind. Why had I not thought of that before?

Real talk.... Fuck flying commercial, lets just gas up the fucking jet....

Or better yet, we should get some damn unicorns.

Fly them junts back and forth. It's cheap, humane and best of all....it reduces our carbon footprint by relying on beasts of burden.

Yeah. I lost my shit and cursed quite a bit. I hate havin to inject realness into situations by cursing.

I drunkenly wander over to the bachelorette party. I was pretty perturbed but I brought all of my woo hoo. Less than an hour into the evening and one of the females that I'm with turns to me and asks me "Have you ever kissed a girl?"......

I can blatantly see how this night is going to be. We end up at Bourbon in Adams Morgan and I meet a very nice guy who lives in France. We proceed to have a delightful conversation (and some slight acrobatics) that almost results in a kiss until I am torn away to go off to "Lima".

Now at this point I have had 2 glasses of Red Wine, Champagne, Vodka, Tequila, more Champagne, Vodka, A Lemon Drop shot, more Tequila and some more Vodka. I recall 2 heartfelt conversations. One life altering decision. One girl on girl kiss. An Ass grab and confusion.

I eventually headed home (on foot cuz it sounded like a good idea while drunk) until I tripped over my own foot. Then I caught a cab. I woke up the next day, prayed for death and eventually found Gatorade. It was a solid weekend. Monday got more complicated but I shall skim over that. Lets just say, I saw some people who I hadn't seen in a while and was genuinely pleased to remake acquaintances.

Tuesday marks the return of "OH So". Can't wait til New Years Eve. I am ready. On to the next one.

The Shit I Hate About DC

2009-11-16T09:58:00.000-08:00

I have actually managed to make up with everyone. Kisses exchanged and sammiches snacked on... All is well. Still studyin to leave tho....

Lemme expound on one thing for yall.... I hate Anonymous compliments. Especially when theyre negative. Real talk. MAN THA FUCK UP. If you hate my blog... dont read it. If you don't like what I say, Kick fuckin rocks. And if you have some shit to say.. At least have the balls to sign that shit.

I got a comment on my last blog that said: THIS ENTRY SUCKS! What happened 2 all your sleeping around & the partying & the crazy stories. I was thoroughly disappointed by this one. If u hate DC so much then GET THE FUCK TO THE NEXT CITY! We don't want u anymore anyway if you're going 2 be a bore & have no more fun stories to offer.

And you know what.... You're correct. I'm sorry my life cant live up to your expectations. I'll be sure to get caught up in a gangbang this weekend while bumpin Wale and Backyard to make up for you're boredom and my lack of DC enthusiasm.

If you read my blog to live vicariously through what I do...Tip. Leave your house. Make a friend. Have yo own adventures.

I did not know that I was the patron saint of crazy activities and DC love....

Secret... I dont really like DC. I like that I know people here. I like that sometimes that benefits me. But as a city, DC can suck it.

I actually wrote an entire blog call Dear Mr. Joe DC about every Average Joe DC dude. Its like a running list of turn offs for me.

I moved here in Middle School, yet when people ask me where I'm from, I always say "Georgia". Georgia Peach from the cradle to the grave....til my motherfuckin casket drops. If you love DC... Go at it. You can have that shit.

Let me quickly run down a list of the shit that annoys me about DC:

Pretentious Bar Conversation
I don't care where you went to school. I'm drunk. Please move onward. The level of sexual arousal you are displaying based on your fundamental desire to debate is creepy and desperate.
DC will never be a fashion Mecca.
It just wont. And DC... It's your own fuckin fault. God Damn Nike Boots. SMH....

DC fashion week my ass.....
GOGO... Really.
I hate Gogo for the same reasons I hate reggae. Observe.
- Take popular song.
- Remake it crappily.
- Put on radio....
Yup. Still hate you.
Howard University...

Matter of Fact, all of yall.
UMD, Georgetown, GW, American, Them others... Bowie? Really? that's a school?
But Especially UMD. Get the fuck out of the street. I am sooooo tired of almost running over yall dumb ass children when I'm driving. I hate you and I will wantonly run you over.
The Tourists....
No, I can't give you directions. No, I don't know where the museum is. No. Please get your ugly tacky children back on the metro and out of my face.
Let us not forget the crazy bitch with camera.....

You don't have to like my opinions. Or respect them. I don't care but that's how I honestly feel. You ask... you get hot fire.

As to the lack of crazy penetration stories.... The truth is simply this: I've only been sleeping with one person. That aint some shit I like to spread around or tell everybody.... Its just fact. I am currently sexually monogamous and I don't feel that the details of what go on in that situation are appropriate to put here. Know that I am happy and satisfied. Sorry I cant roam the streets fuckin my back out for your amusement but only one person has gotten my goodies for the past couple of months and we intend to keep it that way for a while.

If you're here for amusement... go watch a fuckin movie. This ain't all high notes, chuckles and multiple orgasms... This is my life. I don't stop by yo house and tell you how boring it is when you're depressed... Please don't do it to me.

I'm about to be 27. My wild days are coming to a close and my heart just isn't in crazy anymore. At 25, tappin a 20 year old felt thrilling. Now it just feels sad. There's no challenge in capturing them doe-eyed motherfuckers. I'm on my grown shit. Less adventure and more one on one connectivity. Sorry if it bores you but it's my life.

Not Quite... But I'm gettin there.

2009-11-14T21:17:00.000-08:00

I haven't written alot lately. (This is actually starting to become my standard blog greeting... It's a shame. really.)

So I'm sitting here sipping on a Cabernet Sauvignon, tryin to process how I feel and semi-succeeding and semi-failing. I work a ridiculous amount of hours a week. I get home every night, emotionally drained and physically exhausted. Everyday that I go to work I feel unappreciated and taken for granted. Most days this would be normal and expected but on Friday it came from someone whom I'd begun to trust.

This shit.... took me over the edge. I realized that I truly do hate my life. I am capable of so much and I literally spent this last year doing absolutely nothing. Nothing. I wasted an entire year of my life. I will never get this year back and it's my own fucking fault.

I was driving home last Thursday and I swear I had a glimpse at my future. My career, my spouse, my home... It looked not at all like my current life. It looked way more pleasing.

So I am on the road toward that shit. I am pretty much done with DC. I don't want to settle here. I don't really care to work here and the only school around here that has a program that I would be interested in attending is University of Maryland... which I hate. Alot. Sooooo on to the next one.

And for some reason, I have been letting more people into my life lately and opening up alil more and I notice that it has distinctly bitten me in the ass. Maybe I been slackin off on my screening process but the folks who I've been "Trusting" lately have not been honoring that trust. Honestly I feel deeply betrayed and regret allowing people to get close to me because nothing seems to be sacred anyfuckingmore.

I think one person stepping outside of "Okay" and upsetting me would have been fine but in less than 48 hours that shit happened again. A private conversation was made anonymously public on fucking Facebook. Now, I am pretty open with my life so if I choose to omit something from my public profile in the world, that was truly a one on one conversation with someone about being a child of divorce.... That's private.

Especially if it is someone who had worked on building a trust with me...

Side note... Karma's a bitch. Just trust me on that. A big ass bitch.... Stoopid bitch.

Now I'm looking at everyone sideways. I am deeply hurt at this point and am taking all of the shit that has been going on lately as a sign that I need to get the fuck out of DC.

I would say.... I'm not quite bitter, but I'm getting there. That I'm not quite out of here yet, but I'm on my way. That all I really have in this world is my balls and my word... and I don't even have balls. FML....

Walls up. Head down....

Free Music Wednesday.... Enjoy.

2009-11-04T07:48:00.000-08:00

Free Music Wednesday.... Enjoy.
Marques Houston - Sex, Lies and MH
Amerie - In Love And War
Lil Wayne - No Ceilings

Your nice car doesn't make up for the fact that you're an asshole.....

2009-11-03T19:16:00.000-08:00

Today was interesting so I thought I'd share. I woke up this morning to the rants of "The Crazy Lady". I should have known that lady lives too close to me. I need to move....

I have been working very late hours so I woke up and was headed to work, late as shit, walkin down the street thinkin bout that fine guy from brunch and how much finer he'd have been if he weren't an asshole. He had a nice smile.... Was alittle corny (which is what I would have expected based on his age). Wasn't the most truthful individual but I'd never keep him. Never. Who needs the headache?

Hmm, well who do I see driving a fly ass car honking at me as I pass by the entrance of his "company........

Now, I'm sure its wrong to give people "Fly ass car" bonus points but if he was running a deficiet points wise based on personality, he made his way back into my good graces due to his arms, ex-model status and that fine ass car. I'm a sucker for the 3 A's....Abs, Arms & Automobiles.....

Anywho, the conversation went like this:
Him: Hey
Me: Hehehe Whatup?
Him: Where you been at?
Me: Work and shit.
Him: (Palm out, Colgates just shinin) Gimme five.
Me: How bout I give you 1? (Extending a solitary digit in his direction, he grabs my finger)
Him: You still got my number?
Me: No, yeah, maybe? I dunno. I'm late. Call me later.
Him: I don't got your number.
Me: Oh. But you did have it. Awww you got pissy wit me and deleted it? You're that kinda dude? Aww you was feeling some kinda way?
Him: Come on, just gimme the number...
Me: Whatever. (Rapid-fire relaying of number)… Now for the Million Dollar Question: What's my name?
Him: I dunno what is it?
Me: Uh uh. You got the number. Figure out the name... That's your assignment. Work on that.... Make that happen.

He's fine.... But I've had finer.
Plus, even though his tinge of asshole was redeemed by his cream worthy car.... I know his paper ain't straight. He is living beyond his means and is right back at the demerit level that he was at before I seent him today. SMH.
Shit that was said and heard:

"There are three things I don't use; Sunblock, Seatbelts and Prophylactics." SMH.... I guess you gotta believe in something.

"Fuck it dude. I can't teach all these hoes..."

"Hoes need goals, too, and according to this video their goal is to get nutted on by Plies."

"I am so sick of these damn fucked up facebook Names. Erica Suckabeachballthruagardenhose Powers. Brian Numbaonepussylickerfolife Williams. What the fuck is wrong wit yall youthes..."

"Yo, I met these two women. One was hot .... and One was her friend." (It seems to always go like that.)

"Fuck is wrong witchu! Crepes are delicious. They're like french Enchiladas. What the fuck!"

Best lame pickup convo ever:

Guy: You're lucky. I got 1 spot left in my phone. What's your number?

Sidenote. I wear a plain silver band on my hand for just such occasions.
Me: Sorry, I'm married.
Guy: Tsk tsk tsk. He let you out?
Me: Umm well all the house work was done and he was fed so he said I could have the night off?

"See! That's why you're always endin up in clandestined sexual situations!!! Lack of knowledge of social protocol in relation to anonymous sexual encounters. Smh. Your buttholes in constant jeopardy."

Yeah. Its been special. Real special.

I been workin.... thats what I been doin....

2009-11-01T12:44:00.000-08:00

Ive been working anywhere from 8-15 hours a day. I am physically, mentally and emotionally drained. I promise Ill write something soon. I promise. Just gimme a lil time. I feel like Im letting you all down when I cant write but when I dont get enough sleep, I cant creatively juice nothing. If you need tidbits of my crazy, come find me on facebook. Netta Rose.....

I'm in Miami, Bitch!!!

2009-10-15T12:01:00.001-07:00

Ok, so I'm actually back from Miami. I haven't been writing as much lately. Between work and personal, theres never enough time in the day. Lemme just recap Miami for you.

I got drunk Wednesday night and wandered home to find a dude asleep in the cubbyhole to my apartment. Real talk, I thought it was my roomie when I walked up. Like "Damn Bitch! You couldn't even make it in the door?" But no. It was random sleepy man. He was very apologetic tho. I told him, "Fuck it. Folk gotta sleep and shit".

Lets just say this : Wine plus Ciroc.... tasty but not the best idea. When I woke up for my plane on Thursday, I was not in the best shape. I arrived at the airport hungover and confused.

Get on the plane and finally arrive. Here are my pics of firsts.

1st drank

First meal

First drunk pic

First drunk clothing change

Apparently, Miami is the land of "TOO MUCH DAMN ALCOHOL".... Like buy one get one free, but one costs 25 dollars and is roughly 80 ounces of drunk... I like a bargain just as much as the next chick but damn.... damn.

Also, Miami is where Day 26 rejects go to nail America's Next Top Model rejects so they can procreate and make genetically substandard offspring. Lots of product. Like Jersey.... Cept with more nudity.

There is this guy in Miami: He dresses up like Batman. When I say he dresses up like Batman, I really mean he wanders around with a mask on acting slutty. See below.

At some point in here he told Megan that he wanted to be the seasoning on her eggs.

Yeah.....

Yes, that is a stripper outfit. And tho you cannot see it, he commited thoroughly. He is wearing a thong. smh.

I could hit the low and high notes but honestly, in 90 degree weather with a fairly constant stream of alcohol in my system, my memory is spotty.

Miami is the land of ignant ass tees

Fifty cents tho?

Drunk in the club. Miami clubs are awesome. There are pole dancing chicks and people who pour shots in your mouth like magic. LIKE DRUNK MAGIC.

Views

This made me sad until someone told me it was Mahi-Mahi. That shit is good.

Randomnesses that occured:

We were headed to the liquor store and theses guys were like "Where you goin?" to which we replied "Liquor store!" then they said "We got liquor." Skkkkkrrrrrt. So we end up crackin them lil mini bottles and I pour some Barcardi into a cup with some cran-apple juice and feel ballerific. Then these fools pull out a cooler and go "Would you like some organic grapes?".... Really tho? Bootleg drinks out the back of a van and organic grapes out of yo random cooler. Thanks for keepin it classy but we got to go.

NOTE: If you're on my facebook, you can see this. If not... Oh well. It's just drunken video of pole girls....
I was headed back from the club in the above video when these guys stopped me.
GUYS: Where you headed?
Drunk Me: My feet hurt. I'm goin back to the hotel.
GUYS: My friends gonna rub yo feet.
Drunk Me: MY FEET HURT. You are impeding my progress.
GUYS: Impeding? What are you, some kind of technician?
Drunk Me: Actually... Yes. I am.
Fine bouncer guy kidnaps me to the beach; oddness ensues.
Fine Bouncer: How you like Miami?
Me: It's ok, I guess.
Fine Bouncer: What's wrong? Can't find anyone to talk to.
Me: First off, I'm talking to you right now but even if I wasn't I don't need all that. Like, someone to talk to...
Fine Bouncer: You don't need me?
Me: No. I stand here cuz I choose to not cuz I NEED too. Thats a much bigger compliment. Trust.
Fine Bouncer: Oh. Ok.
Me: Wait... Are you trying to dry hump me standing up?
Fine Bouncer: You'd make a beautiful baby....
Me: Oh hell no. I got to go.
And here is why American Airlines is Bollocks:
How to get home from Miami...
1. Get a 7am call letting you know your flight is cancelled. Be annoyed.
2. Call the airline and realize that your flight has been rescheduled from Monday at 12:30 pm to Tuesday 10pm arriving Weds morning.
3. Realize that this makes no sense and that you desperately need to get out of Miami and never come back.
4. Have them reschedule you so that you leave around 11am and then transfer in Dallas to get to BWI at 5.
5. Realize that this is bullshit. Leave ASAP.
6. Get to the airport. Run around. and argue with the fucking guy who won't check my bag cuz he's "tryin to save me 20 dollars". Go inside and check my fucking bag.
7. Get lost finding security. Take a Klonopin.
8. Get food for later.
9. Stop by duty free and spray on some of my fave perfume. Relax.
10. Find out my flight is oversold. Get on anyway. Breathe deep and try not to curse.
11. Sit next to a guy from Dallas who convinces me to come visit him.
12. Part ways and do a nomadic type trek across Dallas Fort Worth airport.
13. Almost miss my next flight.
14. Finally arrive at BWI. Get my bag and take a Super shuttle home.
15. Miss my date. Curse alot. Swear never to take American Airlines again.

And in Conclusion: AMERICAN AIRLINES SUCKS. THE End. Back from Miami Bitch!!!

And Ill take you out wit random pics...

We saw this dude in the club and laughed for about 10 minutes cuz he looked like a rapist. Also, you can't see it but he has 2 pairs of sunglasses. One on his shirt and one on his head... at night.

GIANT MOJITO!

About 2 days before I left I gave up and hung work sheep.

Nice architecture plus camera phone equals me gettin fancy

Yay Cities

Dis Megan

Miami.... I'm thru wit you. Cheap dirty trick.

My path ain't your path... (Ps. Babies are parasites)

2009-10-03T23:16:00.001-07:00

I can honestly say that I've been exploring lately.

Exploring my limits. Exploring my wants and desires. Breaking out of my preconceived notions of what "happiness" is supposed to look like and what my life should be comprised of.

There's been alot of talk about what shit is supposed to be. Apparently I am supposed to meet a man, get married, make a baby and then.... I guess raise some kids and die.

This shit does not sound like a win to me. I know married people. Alot of them are very unhappy. I also know alot of people with kids and apparently that shit ain't all it's cracked up to be either.

I was eating "Birthday Sushi" with my dad and we were discussing how pregnant women can't eat sushi. I was thinking about the reasons behind that. Parasites. Hmmmm, why would babies be threatened by parasites? And then I realized the obvious. Babies are also parasites and they don't like the competition.

A baby parks itself in your guts for 9 months. It saps your energy and eats half of your fucking food.... then it pops out. If we were in one of those "Alien" movies, you'd bludgeon it to death. But no.... Babies are made "cute" to prevent you from beating them to death the minute they pop out. It's a scam I tell you... A SCAM!

Periodically, I'll talk to someone who has kids and they'll try and convince me that having kids is the most rewarding thing you can do with your life. Like, raising a child successfully is the greatest shit you can do.

Now, lemme ask you this: Say I loiter for 9 months, pop out a kid, ride out 18 years and then pat myself on the back for not raising a sociopath. Couldn't I have just dodged pregnancy all together and consequently never created this potential "menace to society".... It's not like the world is lacking children, or people pressed to make them so I'm pretty sure I can sit this one out.

My homeboy recently asked me, "Do you plan on being a spinster?"

Hmmm. What does that entail? Apparently lots of cats.

Is that the worst thing I can do with my life? Not get married? Not settle down into a life of conjoined credit and 19 - 30 year obligations to ungrateful children. The putting aside of my dreams and goals to pause and raise a child or two?

I don't know that I understand this construct. I'm still not sure I get monogamy and I honestly don't know that monogamy is for me. How can the dual parts of my personality be satisfied by merely one person? I have a masculine and a feminine side that require drastically different things for me to be satiated. Every time I try to forgo one in favor of the other, I am inevitable left displeased with the result.

If "Love" is wanting another person to be happy, and the person you "Love" needs another lover to be satisfied and happy, is it truly love if you don't let the meet that need?

Can we redefine love, please? Because all the love I have seen has been selfish. Love isn't blind. It's narcissistic. It sees itself, protects and feeds itself.

Here is what I want. My relationship wish list per say: I want 2 relationships concurrently. I want a boyfriend and a girlfriend. They can love or hate each other... or not even know each other for that matter. Don't really care but they cannot sexually interact with each other. I want to date both of them, be satisfied and be happy. I don't want to talk about feelings alot. I would be monogamous with both of them (yes, I did just say that). I cannot say what they can or cannot do. The only thing I require is that my sexual, emotional and intellectual needs get met.

Beyond that, they should explore whatever pleases them. I don't think this is an unreasonable request. Now, I know this sounds alil off kilter but it works in my head, on paper and in practice.

I could require them to be monogamous with me as well, but personally I don't care. It's not my desire to limit the happiness of those I care about. In hashing out this idea, the central theme of "If they are fucking other people, so should you" keeps popping up. It is not my desire to roam the streets merely to have a sexual tit for tat. If I am satisfied, I am satisfied. I don't feel the need to be able to say "Ha! I fucked someone else too."

"To make love for revenge, or pain, what is that? It hurts the mind, and the soul it shrinks. The soul grows smaller. And perhaps it even dies."

I cannot even pretend to fathom these "rules" for life. So I'm through. I know what I want. I know what works for me and I know that I can't follow the path that everyone else seems to be wandering. It ain't for me.

Like the illustrious Mr West said :

How could a goddess ask someone that's only average for advice, OMG, you listen to that bitch?

My path ain't your path and honestly, who ever did something spectacular by walkin in someone else's footprints?

They say it takes two, but I'll be damned if sometimes it don't take 3....

Top 3 reasons I'm goin to Hell aka "The Jesus - Jayz argument" (Randoms)

2009-09-27T12:49:00.000-07:00

Top 3 recent reasons why I'm going to hell

I replied to someones facebook status that stated: "Jesus promises you (the believer) two things. A cross to die on and eternal life. He demands everything from us."

The conversation went as follows:
Me: I dont wanna die on a cross. Im confused.

Dude: Its not about what we want is it? The cross, of course, was a means of execution. To take the cross and follow Christ(Matt. 10:38) means to live in such devoted abandonment to Him that even death itself is not too high a price to pay. "For to me, living means living for Christ, and dying is even better." -Phil. 1:21

Me: I dont think Christ really wants me to do that.

Dude: to do what?

Me: hang out on crosses. :/ I dont even think he probably really cares whether i'm like devoted. I think he got other priorities. I think hed like me to be devoted but like, he ain't really pressed, naw mean.

Dude: Naw I dont know what u mean. If u claim to be a Christian then he wants your whole heart and total devotion, yes. He wants to be first in your life (greatest commandment). Be hot or cold.

Me: I don't think hes pressed. I think hes walking around, sandals on, with infinite love in his heart and stuff. loving everybody without a care in the world. happy jesus. yup

All of this eventually lead me to the following conclusions.
- Jesus isn't pressed. Like Jesus wants to be your friend, so he'll send you a friend request. If you decline, you still get the infinite love...
- I'm pretty sure that Jesus doesn't want me hanging up on a cross. Like, Jesus did that so I wouldn't have to. Kinda like Jay-z...
  
  When he said, "Actin' like I sold you crack. Like I told you sell drugs, no Hov did that so hopefully you wouldn't have to go through that".
  
  HOV did that sos I wouldn't have to.... kinda like Jesus.
During sacrament when I was a kid, I used to lean over and ask people "Are you gonna finish your grape juice?"

I really liked Grape juice. That Jesus Wafer wasn't half bad either....
This is an old blog post from November 2006.

I'm going to hell.
But its cool. Its inevitably going to be hot (it is hell)but so long as its a dry heat, I'll manage. I would rather not deal with humidity.

I will aim for a position in middle management. Hell has to have a hierarchy, some type of bureaucracy with all the politicians there and I think with hard work I could definitely advance through the organizational structure.

Just in case hell is less organized than I imagine, I will aim for being the devil's chill partner. He's high up and I'm sure he has some type of posse or entourage. Devils gotta have henchmen.

One way or the other, I'm sure that the pay is either shitty or nonexistent, but that's alright. What do I need money for in my afterlife, unless there's inflation in hell? I wouldn't do it for the money anyway. I merely want to say occupied, you know?

Yup. Hell bound.

Ok, so I brunched last Sunday and I met this dude. Fine. Kinda funny but he raised entirely too many flags in less than a 3 day period so I had to let that alone. Let me explain.

You fine.... You're 35 and you are divorced with no kids. What's up with that? That shit don't add up. Not at all.
You say you own a rather specific type of company which you operate out of
a very specific location....

So why, when I google the type of business, your name and the location, I get nada. You the owner and proprietor and I can't locate anything with your name on it. Not a web page. Nothin.
I ask why you're divorced with no kids... You explain that you have a baby gestating in someone uterus as we speak.

Whoa. Lies? Already. Seriously...

Then he pulled the ultimate fumble. He texted me about 15 mins after we parted ways. WE JUST MET! Play it cool.

I had to pass on all parts of this. Besides, things over 32 expressly turn me off anyways.

Even on overdrive, with your best efforts, some Viagra, a ecstasy pill and a red bull, you still ain't hittin it like a 20 some odd year old. They just have more energy.

I can teach one of them some 30 year old type tricks but I cannot imbued a 30 some odd year old with a 20 some odd year old's energy. That is beyond my capabilities.

Public Service Announcement: Do Not Fake Orgasms.

Just don't. It's a horrible idea. Essentially, when you fake, you do a disservice to everyone. You unfairly emotionally reward someone who did nothing for you. You give them a false concept of how effective they are and give them a boost of sexual esteem that they don't deserve. You set yourself up to either continue to fake orgasms with them in the future or cut them off all together because what they think makes you cum doesn't. (When people think they have a system that works, they tend to stick with it.)

I don't want to have anything or anyone that I can't live without. That which you can't live without is something that you need and what you need owns you wholly. The need that I have, overwhelming, is the need to be able to leave. If I feel that I am starting to need something a little too much, I run. I get to "feelin some kinda way" and I dip.

I was slated to do a guest blog spot about memories. I need you to know that even the word memories fucks me up. There's whole years of memories that are spotty. Times that were shitty. Things that I did that were shitty. Most of the memories tha I have clearly are the none too good traumatic ones. That's because they cut deep and the pain, emotional and otherwise were crisp. I actually gave up on the memories piece. I'd rather do that than have to dig through memories that rival lifetime movies. Fuck it.

It feels like commitment is really just boiling down to finding someone you trust enough to use the Sponge with.

I love my life. Don't get it twisted. I do. I am able to do shit and see shit and experience shit that alot of people don't get to. It's part luck. Its part audacity. It's part personality. When you aren't always attractive, you develop other skills. When I was chunky as a youth, it allowed me the space to study, learn and get smart. Probably the main reason I didn't get "teen pregnant". When my face got fucked up in that car accident, I had to up my people skills to compensate. And I truly did learn that fortune does favor the bold. It also favors the attractive. If you have one, kudos. If you have both, you'd be amazed the shit you can pull off.

One time I did this:

Go Hard. The payoff is normally worth the risk. and yes, he is was fun as he looks.

Freeeeee Hot musics.

2009-09-20T20:49:00.000-07:00

If you love Drake. You need this. The end. Click to download

Tap into your inner child and enjoy a Play Date - New Examiner article

2009-09-20T19:45:00.000-07:00

Tap into your inner child and enjoy a Play Date

New Examiner Article

For all those who keep on googling "I got 99 problems and they're all bitches"

2009-09-13T23:36:00.000-07:00

Sorry. I was gonna post the Video.... but my country apparently wont allow it....

So here's the link for the track...(click here)

Don't ever say I never gave you nothin.

The head I should have turned down & why everyone should swallow.

2009-08-30T20:42:00.001-07:00

I am aware that I've been hiding lately. Its been a necessary seclusion. I have a handful of things that I've needed to sort out for the past few weeks. While driving to NJ, August 23rd, I realized a few things.

I was brainstorming ideas for a guest spot on another blog. The topic is "Memories" and I don't remember anything positive. While thinking about my past relationships, it dawned on me: I have commitment issues. It was one of those DUH moments. Apparently everyone already knew this, cept for me.

I've never given 100 percent. Honestly, I've never emotionally or mentally committed to anyone. When I thought of commitment in the past, it was always a matter of fidelity in a sexual sense, not really wholly committing myself to a person with all of my tidbits (like my sex tidbits and my emotion tidbits and my spiritual type tidbits). It was a shitty driving revelation.

When I got to NJ, I quit. Seriously, I did. I secretly quit smoking. Didn't tell anybody or anything. Just saw a woman on the bus with one of them throat holes and started religiously chewing that gum.

I quit in secret cuz last time I tried to quit, I had people ask me every fucking day "How's quittin going?" Either that or they were tellin me what a good job I was doing. That shit irks me. Sitting around pattin me on the back for a job well done isn't a good way to encourage me. It feels patronizing and makes me want to spark a cigarette and blow the smoke in your face. Just shut the fuck up and leave me to my own process of quittery.

The quitting has made me bitchy. I cursed out lots of people. I threatened death... alot. and I disowned my brother. Long story.

Last weekend was pretty normal. I woke up Saturday and went to an extremely early hair appointment. Afterward I came home, cursed out my roommate and took a nap. Woke up and went to a pool party. It was awesome and odd.

I end up driving up to this huge fuckin house. Realize Ive lost my phone before the night even begins. I walk into the party and I hug my homie. Walk indoors to get a drink and (because DC is waaaaay too fuckin small) I see the whack lobbyist.

I walk in and sit down with my back to him, so that I can pretend that I dont see him. All of this is super awkward because I let him go down on me that time we had that bad date and then just went home without reciprocating.

Let me explain, before you get all up in arms:

He REEEEAAAALLLLYYY wanted to.
And who am I to begrudge him? Really? Who am I?
The night sucked anyway.
It really did. and I felt like maybe if that was good, it might turn the night around.
It wasn't good.
Hence why I left.

So he just happens to be there and I have my back turned to him for a good solid hour. Then I get engrossed in a convo with my friend about sex with midgets and play dates for genitalia.

Man Friend: Our genitals should play together. They should have a play date.
Me: Imma need some kinda itinerary for that play date. Like what will it entail? Where will we go? Will there be tapas?
Man Friend: No. No itinerary. It's all about the surprises.
Me: Fuck that. Think about it like kids. Like my genitals are my kid and I'm sendin my kid to your house to play with your kid.... That brings many questions to bear. Where are you going? What will you do? My genitals could be allergic to peanuts. Please avoid all ballparks and eating PB & J sandwiches around my twat....
Man Friend: You're special.

Somewhere in here, I got drunk on an evil concoction called Firefly.

You drop 2 ice cubes in this and it tastes like drunk.....

Somehow, the guy who I'm trying to avoid manages to get behind the bar. Have you ever tried to ignore someone who is standing right in front of you??? It is super fucking hard.

I get up and go into the bathroom and had the oddest exchange of the night. Walking out of the bathroom, this guy was staring at me.

Me: What? Why are you staring at me?
Him: You look like a unicorn. I want to pour this liquor on you and set you on fire.
Me: What the fuck? You wanna arson me?
His Friend: Naw. He wants to pour liquor on you and set you on fire with his love.
Me: Whoa. That sounds like an STD.
Him: You look like a unicorn.
Me: No I don't.
Him: Yes You do. When's the last time you saw a unicorn?
Me: Touché drunk man... Touché..

Fuckin A. Went home.

Then the other day I had the following conversation (verbatim from Facebook)

Me: It’s 2009. Everyone should eat pussy. It’s delicious. It’s nutritious and its satisfying...

Him: Riiiiiight, it shouldn't have a damn taste. But i get where u'r coming from, and no it's not nutritious lol. Maybe if u swallow a mans sperm, then maybe. But the same goes, every female should suck dick :-)

Me: They should. It’s 2009 and they should swallow.
Semen contains the follow: vitamin C, calcium, chlorine, cholesterol, citric acid, creatine, fructose, lactic acid, magnesium, nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium, sodium, vitamin B12, and zinc.
Plus it has the same amount of protein as an egg white. so yes. everyone should suck dick and swallow.

Him: LMAO, i'll put this message in my status lmaooo. Good shit

Me: it wont fit... its too long.

Him: watch it fit lol

Me: Thats alot of data.

Him: Lmao, it's gonna fit but i don't want no one saying nothing dumb about u where u can read it lol. Don't want to start no arguments on my page lol

Me: These are facts. What is there to argue about? If everyone doesn't want to suck dick, that's on them. But if you’re down there anyway, and it ends up in your mouth, you might as well swallow. Spitting just makes a mess and the small act of swallowing gets you so many cool points in the long run it’s ridiculous. Plus you can tell a lot about a man’s diet and health regime by his flavor & How can you say you know someone or you care about them or love them if you’re unwilling to swallow something that came out of them that you worked really hard to bring to fruition? (Ps. This is going to end up being a blog. Just an FYI)

Thus is all. And I leave you with these thoughts from William Shakespeare... Cuz here at Semi-literate, we likes to keep it fuckin highbrow and classy....

All yet seems well;
And if it end so meet the bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.
The king’s a beggar, now the play is done:
All is well ended, if this suit be won,
That you express content; which we will pay, with strife to please you, day exceeding day:
Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts; your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts.

Jay aint got shit on me.... No. Seriously. Real talk!!!!

2009-08-27T17:46:00.001-07:00

Jay aint got shit on me.... No. Seriously. Real talk!!!!

My past 2 weeks have been primarily full of Bullshit.

2009-08-27T12:22:00.000-07:00

I know, I know, I know. It's been a minute.

Let me try and run it back proper so you know what's been going on. I've been overwhelmed lately and left to stew in my own thoughts, so now I'm on the bus writing this while woman next to me keeps talking and I am trying to sufficiently ignore her while absentmindedly trying to figure out if she is talk to me, to herself or into one of them fuckin bluetoothes. Whatever.

Let me run it back to last Saturday.

I get a text asking me if I can write for an online social networking site. Ok, whatevs.

I'm honestly starting to hit my limit on these dudes talking bout they own they own business and point me to a social networking URL wit a fucked up GUI.

Real talk: User generated content in an online community with ad revenue as your main profit stream is on my last nerve. It's been done before. You're 10 years late and a shitty imitation at best. Meet an unmet need. Be original. Fuck!!!

After assessing their needs and expectations, we came up with decent terms and I draft a contract based on these terms at the guys behest. Then he turns around and talks to his business partner and realizes that, though they would like to work with me in the future, they don't have a budget to meet my pricing. The thing is... My pricing was based on prior conversations with him about budget and what they wanted. Not to mention they wanted me to push their site to yall, which is a no go. I would have writing under a pseudonym and the product wouldn't be something I was particularly proud of anyway.

All in all, I now have a staple boilerplate contract for future freelance work but I wasted 4 days of annoyance, the time it took to write a 250 word sample and I managed to generate 2 migraines dealing with an over-eager business man who had unrealistic expectations and no clue about his own budget.

Mostly I'm annoyed at how the whole "Will you write for my site?" was a bullshit as scheme to get me to answer phone calls after we went on traumatizingly bad date two weeks ago and I steady ignored his calls. Phone number deleted. Phone set to block all calls that are not in my phone book. Fuck off.

Needless to say, I am available for freelance work and am flexible with pricing. Also I am completely unwilling to work with them in the future. I got this standing policy about people who take up a lot of my time and result in no eventual dividends. Whatever.

Okay, now imma run it back again. Flashback to last Tuesday. I wake up with a familiar uncomfortable feeling. Can you guess what it was???

Yep. UTI!!! I woke up and had (gross out alert)..... blood in my urine. Awesome!

I immediately schedule to go to the doctor and when I get there, I have to pee. Now, I know I got one shot at this. They gonna need a pee sample and I've got urgency.... So iffin I'm goin, I'm goin now. I got a lil a sample cup and take the worst piss of my life.

Go in and talk to the doc about whether imma die or not. I figured I'd done kidney damage. It's entirely possible and I haven't always been good to my kidneys but apparently my kidneys are Ok. At this point it was only Tuesday and I'd already given up on life.

Never a good sign.

Friday I went to Jersey where I did the following:

Also, spent a good deal of time arguin with both my dad and my roommate about filters for the shop-vac. They insisted that you need the model number to make sure your getting the right one. I insisted that that was a load of crap and I could suss out the model number when I got to target based on the fact that I bought it at target and they only carry but so many. I came out victorious, winning by default. Target only had one shop vac filter and one paper screen. I didn't even need to employ deducery.

Oh So Sexy was in town and I just missed him. I arrived back Sunday night and made plans to hang with a friend. I'd bust out the details but I think imma keep these to myself for now. I'm still intrigued and I'd like to keep it that way rather than analyze it to death.

Monday, I went to work and was headed home on the bus when all hell broke loose. Apparently a FedEx truck hit a guy on one of them Kawasaki Asian death traps. I'm standing on the corner watchin this guy laying on his side convulsing. A nurse who was driving past comes on the scene and stabilizes his head while gettin an assist from random onlooker to roll "guy on bike" over. His tibia jutting out of his shin and bleeding profusely. Random onlooker guy is removing dudes helmet against the urging of the nurse to leave him alone. "Guy on bike" is coughing up blood and has bloody snot bubbles. I decide that "guy on bike" is probably gonna die. A doctor shows up and I wander off to my car.

Go to my P.O. Box and get my shoes.

I thought I was going to return them but I tried them on and fell in love. They were a bargain at $120 dollars. Whatever. Head over to my best friends house to hang and get sent home with a shitload of seafood.

Go to work on Tuesday and when I get home, I'm irate. I cursed out my roommate for cooking pasta and hot dogs in the same pot to which he responded, "I hate you Today!".

Headed upstairs to the back porch to eat crabs, hang out wit my homeboy "Murder Castle Dave" and drink beer. This leads to hours of chilling until...... our neighbor pops outside and asks us if we heard a crash.

We head around the corner and see the ridiculousness.

A drunk driver hit a jeep, which lost a tire and jumped a curb then hit a PT cruiser.... That shit took out Murder castle Dave's car which subsequently was rammed into the three cars in front of him. Yeah...

Bullshit.
Its been an exciting/bullshittastic time. Ill be coming out with some randoms soon. Just been alil overwhelmed. Smooches!!!

Wine flights and DC Restaurant week : Places to venture to this week

2009-08-24T22:24:00.000-07:00

Think I posted the wrong link before

New Examiner Post. Been going through a reflective period. Will be bloggin about it soon. :?

Also, heres my new fave mixtape
Life's not so Sample.... Malicious.

I O U

2009-08-20T17:18:00.000-07:00

I owe you a whole lotta bloggin. I aint gone lie. Just wiped out. Long story.... Promise to hook yall up soon. Til then, I come bearing gifts....

DJ Xklusive's Usershare account
Feel free to get yo free music on.... Sometimes it goes down.... be patient

Kisses.

Love me.

My exes are like herpes..... (aka Penile Recidivism)

2009-08-08T00:58:00.000-07:00

My exes are like herpes.....
No, they don't have herpes. And no, I don't have herpes... But they are like herpes. Just because you haven't seen it in a while, doesn't mean that it's gone. Them motherfuckers are merely lying dormant and they will pop up again. Outbreak style!

I have a handful of guidelines to assist me in keepin it short/ sweet and not crazy:

The 3 month rule.
I am thoroughly about a 3 month Probationary period for all incoming dicks, though it has been brought to my attention that perhaps the 3 month timeframe is discriminatory against men. Maybe 3 months isn’t long enough for them to figure out how they feel about a situation, which would explain my high recidivism rate.

Personally, I think the 3 month rule is great. It essentially says, "We have fun for 3 months, but at the end of that 3rd month, we are either going somewhere or we aren’t. If we are going somewhere, then that is great. If not it’s time to shit or get off the pot and I got to go."

I don't like wasting my time and I don't enjoy meandering in pointless, drawn out situations. I'd rather move on and seek penis elsewhere.

The 3 month rule is mutually beneficial. I believe strongly in cutting off things before we get to the point of no return. The point of no return is that fine line. On one side is us, happy with good type relations betwixt us. On the other side is me pissed and arson....

Think of it like this: Say we are going down the path toward a blissful future. Same goals in mind until "Thud". The 3month point hits and you realize that it's now or never. Commitment phobia sets in and you decide that you want to redefine the path and that redefined path looks like this: Sex, Time together, Sexual exclusivity, and Talkin and shit but you don't want a relationship...

SCREEECHHH! Hole Tha Fuck up!

Naw. I'm good. That's straight bamboozlement.

That is a half assed attempt to skirt around the 3 month rule and its bullshit because its a lie. It lets us wander around with the illusion of a relationship without the title, which eventually leads to a devolving of the sexual exclusivity (cuz why bother not fucking other people when neither title nor position require you to do so). Having seen this 1st, 2nd and 3rd hand throughout the years and having seen and heard the outcome, it all boils down to the inevitable. Man starts swinging his dick at anything that moves. Female gets upset, but eventually comes to the conclusion that, due to the fact that they were never together, she can't really be mad.

It's like that line from The Usual Suspects - "The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist."

Bitch... you done bamboozled yourself. You were headed distinctly down a path that you liked and were comfortable with and the next thing you know, he pulls an okeydoke. Now you wandering down a shitty dirt road, shoeless and squinting cuz you think you see a light at the end of this shit. Don't be simple. Them ain't lights hoe. Thems is fireflies and ain’t nothin ahead of you but more bullshit.

Bamboozlement = Bullshit and Bullshit eventually = the possibility of arson...

The 3 month rule saves lives.
I don't like to keep friends with old penises.

This is a simple one. If you used to put dick in me and you no longer put dick in me, you don't get to continue to put dick in me and we ain't chillin and shit cuz if you used to put dick in me and you don't any longer, I need someone new to put dick in me and keeping you around under the guise of "friendship" is a hindrance to my overall goals.
Men are like shoes.

You try them on. Sometimes you'll squeeze your toe into one that doesn't quite fit because its just so pretty that you can't resist. You can only do that so many times or you'll get blisters. Find a shoe that makes you happy, even if no one else likes them and make sure they're comfortable. And don't settle for "Bargain" shoes either. This ain't Payless. There's a reason that Jimmy Choo ain’t constantly having no Buy one Get one free sale. It's a matter of quality vs. quantity.
Dick lies.

Dick is the mischievous sidekick of man. Sometimes Dick will get a man into trouble and on rare occasions, Dick has kept a man out of trouble.

From that 1st kiss on, dick lies. Dick starts makin promises it can't keep and these promises are relayed through his best friend "Man's" mouth.... Cyrano de Bergerac style.

Lies about how he'll last all night, is hard as a rock, strokes faster than a speeding bullet. Dick seems to describe itself as if it were Superman, when really Dick is merely Clark Kent. I enter into everything with a hopeful, yet realistic perspective. Not everyone can be the "Best I Ever Had". There can only be one best and I'm pretty sure that that record has been held by the same person for a couple of years now.
Always aim to Fuck Dimes.
Even if doesn't work out, at least you got to fuck a dime. I don’t just mean dime in terms of looks.

Think about it in terms of, say "Attraction Distribution" with a 10 point scale based on various traits but never equaling to more than 10.

Likability could be worth 2 points.
Dick = 3
Personality = 2
Looks = 3

That's a dime. (Please note: The score for "Like" can never be greater than the score for dick because if your dick doesn't work, I already like you less.)

This system is flexible. Say you score an 8 on looks and a 2 on Dick. Still equals 10.

But it better end up around 10 or somethin ain’t right.
As a general rule I don't do the following:
1. Catholics
  Honestly, the guilt factor is too much for me. Even lapsed Catholics seem to harbor a shitload of sexual hangups. I like my sex alil bit out of the box. Beating women ain’t cool but you fo sho can choke me, so long as you kiss me while you do it.... That's Foreplay round my way... Leave the guilt and yo draws at the door and if you are planning on having some kinda existential crisis after the fact, kindly have it on the way to your car. Guilt reeks and I don't want the stench of it tainting my sheets.
2. Virgins
  Ill experiment but I don't teach. The skills you came into my bedroom with are likely the skills you are leaving with. Sorry. Plus, if you had good sense, you would never try and lose your virginity to me. I am an unforgiving bitch in the bedroom.
3. People just coming out of a stint of abstinence or celibacy.
  Normally people decide to avoid sex because of some deep held belief/conviction or they just needed to sort some shit out. I feel strongly that if you needed to avoid contact with genitalia to figure some shit out and you came to the conclusion that you should break this "sex fast" with me... you apparently didn't learn a motherfucking thing. As I said before, I am a bitch in the bedroom.
You have to eat Pussy.
If you tell me you don't eat pussy....

My reaction is as follows:
Pause.
Skeptical look.
Raise in decibel level.
Loudly exclaim "FUCK you mean you don’t eat pussy.... Uh uh, you got to go."

The other common reaction:
Blank stare.
Loudly exclaim "It's just pussy! Man tha fuck up! It's 2009" while simultaneously pushing their head down with both hands....
I don’t like any of the following questions:
1. Why you playing hard to get?
  I'm not playing. I just happen to be difficult and when you imply that this is an act or some kind of carefully constructed ruse just to confuse and frustrate you, it annoys me.
2. Why don't u have a boyfriend?
  Because I've been lost in the world just waiting for you to pop in my life. Thank god you finally arrived. What took you so long?
3. Where are my grandbabies?
  Dear Mom....
  They ain’t comin. Not no time soon. Not unless there’s a lot of tequila and a serious lapse of judgment. I don't even have any potential baby daddies, none the less real actual options. Fail, Ma... You fail.
4. Don't you ever want to a) settle down, b) be monogamous, c) get married?
  One day. Wit the right person... Or people. You never know.

*************************************************************************************
ON A PERSONAL NOTE!
I just started the process of talking to someone new. He lives in Richmond. Apparently I dislike things that are local. Think about it. First it was Chicago, and then it was NY, now Richmond. But like my home girl pointed out, we getting closer. Next thing you know, I'll find someone in Waldorf. Upgrade!

If you look at it, Richmond is damn near the perfect distance. It’s a nice lil weekend getaway and honestly, I will never need anything that is closer than 100 miles from me. I wilt under constant attention.

I love new shit and he (and this) are most definitely new. It's refreshing and with all of the hectic ass shit at work, please believe, he and my family are the only reason I don't shut my phone off. His A.M. texts make my morning. New shit always makes me think about this song.

I’m a sap for the possibility of it all…

Portland Pt. 2 - Breakfast plus wine plus Jetlag = Pain

2009-08-07T22:46:00.000-07:00

Sorry. I've been addicted to "Saved by the Bell". I don't want to leave my house or anything. Why leave my house ever when I can spend my free time with the gang from Bayside.... Especially that A.C....

With a mullet like that and those dimples, I just can't pry myself away...

So,Oh So Sexy gets off from work and we drink alil wine and wander around Portland alittle. We start looking for a place to grab dinner and we end up wandering over to this random part of town. We see a strip club called "Mary's" and I drag him inside. First thing I see is a mass of untoned pale flessh gyrating on the stage and I turn right back the fuck around and walk the fuck out, shaking my head vigorously to try and rid myself of the ghastly image that had seared itself into my brain. I don't eve think Oh So Sexy got a glance. I saved him from a lifetime of flashbacks. Wandered some more and end up at this Dinerant spot. Food was straight and then we head back to the hotel.

Wake up the next morning and realize how fucking early it is. Oh So Sexy has an earlier flight but my flight left out at 10:30 pm so I had hours to kill and didn't need to dip out of the hotel until noon. I head over to get breakfast. I love the time difference. 9 am there is like noon here. I made it to breakfast every day.

I hit up my friend Phil and let him know that I'm on foot in downtown Portland and I'm willing to walk to wherever he is and I have a bottle of riesling left over from the night before. Phil comes to get me and we head out.

Phil explains to me how Portland LOOOVVVEEESSS breakfast and how it is a happy biking city. I officially fall in love with Portland and fall back in love with Phil.

Phil shows me the garden, which is bountiful and full of goodness. Biodynamic agricultural goodness.

Next thing you know, Phil has convinced me to climb to the top of a mount. Mount Tabor to be exact. I forgot to bring my camera but below is a shot of the view.

It was amazing

Then Phil's old roomie showed up and we went to dinner at Pok Pok. The food was awesome and spicy and filling. Just the way I like it.

Back at the house, more wine and convo and before I know it, we have to head to the airport. Phil drives me to the airport and I hug him goodbye and promise to visit him.

I get on my plane and lo and behold, I am seated right in front of a baby. A loud crying baby. A "let me cry and scream because my parents let me do whatever I want so long as I'm 5 decibel levels too loud" type of baby. I change time zones again and get off in NC.

Get to my next plane and guess who is there... That same fuckin baby. But this time the baby was quiet enough.

I touch down in DC and head straight to the office. No rest for the weary. Had to do laundry and get my life in order. By the time I was through, I hit the bed so hard it was ridiculous.

Portland.... was amazing. I could live there and be happy forever.

A little something for everyone - Places to check out in DC

2009-08-06T23:41:00.000-07:00

A little something for everyone - Places to check out in DC

New Examiner post. Check it out!

Tips to help you avoid first date hell

2009-07-31T18:38:00.001-07:00

NEW Examiner Post
Tips to help you avoid first date hell
CHECK IT OUT!!!

Dis how i make my money so take yo ass there.

Crazy Camera Lady and the Sexcation (Pt. 1)

2009-07-31T11:55:00.000-07:00

Let's start off with Wednesday since that is really where the story begins. I was leaving work and I see this woman in all black standing outside, replete with a lunch and work bag, videotaping people and yelling things. Crazy-people things. About terrorism and wires and how somebody killed her mother. I couldn't stop watching. So, I'm hiding in the FedEx, giggling and watching and dying laughing.

I head back to my office to grab my shit and leave when I hear her yelling again... So I turn the corner and there she is. Yelling at this white guy about how she should be happy that he is getting his 15 minutes of fame and that he is going to be arrested. Then she video tapes me and tells me to tell "them" how I murdered her mother. The white guys interest was apparently piqued so he asks her why he is going to get arrested and for her to tell him more. She crosses the street and he follows. And follows and follows. At this point, he is chasing her around cars. She starts screaming about rape and calling the cops and he keeps following.

I finally give up watching and head home to pack. Two random calls come through... Apparently penis can sense when vagina is leaving town. Two different bootycalls? Fail. I have no time for dick before my vacation that is designed specifically for the purpose of relaxing and getting dick... That, my friends, is crazy, reckless and downright greedy.

I wake up Thursday, bags packed and ready to go. Head out the door and guess who the fuck I see....

Crazy Lady wit the camera.

This time I needed a photo.

Ps. She still accuses me of murdering her mother and she very much dislikes having her photo taken.

I go to work and get my work on. Work work work... Worktastically, I might add.

I also manage to flush out an idea for "White Chicks 2" and a period piece/dance/action/drama....

I head out at 2pm and go to the airport. Now, I'm thinking I'll get to blog alil, maybe watch alil "Supernatural" (my new addiction...) No. fuck no.

My laptop battery is dead. It only works while plugged in and DCA is lackin in available comfortable outlets.

So I wait. Finally I get on the plane. US Airways to Phoenix. Let me just say this: US airways sucks hairy balls. The chairs are uncomfortable and it just plain sucks.

It occurs to me, right around touchdown that I have taken my vagina Bi-coastal...

Deboard in Phoenix, which is cool. Had to transfer from US Airways to American Airlines.... No problemo. It is 106 degrees in Phoenix. But at least its a dry heat.

Cactusesssss

Fat Bear in Phoenix!!!!

Sos I get on this bus and head over to American but apparently my flight is run by Alaska Air so I have to get on another bus. At this point, I am sure that I am trapped in Phoenix, til death.... But I run and I make it.

Note: Alaska Air, way more bitchin than US Airways... But after all this running, I needed 2 cocktails, so I get two cocktails.

When I make it to Portland, I realize that Portland is a different kinda place.

The toilet has instructions and even after reading it, I still flushed it the wrong way. I'm an ass.

I go outside and realize that Portland does shit alil differently.

This is a parking garage with all types of green shit growing off of it.

Get picked up at the airport and head off to the Hotel Monaco. Nice spot. In case you forget to come prepared, they even have a nice little intimacy kit.

Had a nice enjoyable evening. Woke up with alot of confusion. Time changes are tricky. Walked down the street and got myself some eggs.

Shrimp omelet with Kalamata Olives and Green Peppers, topped with Feta cheese

I felt very Rachel Ray this morning.

Then I went to Rite Aid and bought a bottle of lube and a bottle of wine... Odd choice perhaps but it is what it is.

Figured I'd knock out some writing before Oh So Sexy gets off of work. Tonight should be promising....

DJ Kwame Summer Mix

2009-07-25T12:44:00.000-07:00

DJ Kwame Summer Mix

Click to go to download.

Jury duty & Bootycalls should both be more efficient

2009-07-23T22:13:00.001-07:00

I got an online gig with examiner.com. From here on out, my non-cursing, non-dirty stuff will be housed there. My filthy ass shit will still be on here.
Here's the info to locate me:
My Examiner homepage
Click here to subscribe
Click here to favorite me

Click here to see my 1st article
I will be writing there once a week or more and I will still be writing the same crazy ole shit over here. Just a heads up. Oh Yeah... go there often... cuz that's how I get paid...
*************************************************************************************

I am going through a selfish phase.

I ain't gonna lie. I just finally got the chance to write... for pay. I still work 9 to 6pm most days and also maintain this blog as well as coming up with new and creative content for the Examiner.

All parts of my life are now about efficiency and effectiveness. Efficient eating. Efficient sleeping. Efficient fucking. Efficiency.

I need sex that distinctly meets my needs. This has definitely made me alil bitchy. It's not intentional.

I normally realize that I want to get laid some time around noon. I send out a text that gets straight to the point. For the sake of both efficiency and effectiveness, I will text every bootycall in my cell, simultaneously. It's tacky. But it's only "really" tacky when they are aware that they aren't the only ones receiving the text.... If they are special, I call or do a special direct text. I do have soft spots in my heart....

My mass texts normally it read alil something like this:
"Trying to fuck?"
3 very direct and to the point words that make my intent clear.

or

"Can I sit on your face?"
Once again, direct and to the point.

Nowhere is there a bit of pretense. No small talk. No fucking intro. None of that.
If the only thing we do is fuck, why pretend? Why talk, why act, why bother? We can talk, but usually I prefer not to. I normally like to save my talking for people who can stimulate blog ideas rather than just stimulating my clitoris...

Lately, the job has been getting done. Shit has been effective, but not quite efficient. There's been a nebulous cloud of oldies and goodies floating around in the world that I have been falling back in touch with.

I got into the car early last week. I was headed out of the way but not that out of the way (or so I thought). I'm wanderin in the general direction of this dick and im thinking that the GPS is taking me on a new and adventurous route... No. Clinton.

That mofo moved into his boys basement and ain't tell nobody. SMMFH.

At this point I end up clowning him because I keep on imagining fucking on a God Damned Sectional Couch with that shit sliding all around and shit... Cuz it's in sections.

Surprisingly enough, he had a bed and no sectional. There was no odd couch sex. There was bed sex and floor sex and side of the bed sex and alil bit of living room sex.

All of this is great but Clinton is still really fucking far. Maybe he can come to me in the future.

Fast forward to Wednesday. I had jury duty. So I get there, only slightly latish and I go through the metal detector. The guards scan my bag 3 fucking times and keep on asking me if I have a camera.

No. No, I do not. I have no fucking camera. None. At all.

I, like everyone else in the world, have a camera phone that takes video and a blackberry that does the same. Get with the times. Wtf DC Government? So I go upstairs and check in.

JURY DUTY BEEEEYOTCH! DC is tooooo fucking small. So I walk into this juror holding area, Room "3130" and who the fuck do I see The Back Ruiner. My back just healed too.

So I'm sittin here, watchin "National Treasure", writin this fuckin blog and arguing with him over how to do Sudoku. The Jury duty folk explain the whole "Voir Dire" process and also tell us how we can be dismissed from service if we know one of the defendants or witnesses. I figured since I've already managed to run into one person I fucked, it ain't inconceivable that I could see another and I'll own up to fucking the Judge, the Prosecutor and the Defendant if it'll get me outta jury duty.

There is definitely a go hard factor in there. Who lies about shit like that... I would... I would.

I didn't get called but positive things did occur. I have scheduled a run in with The Back Ruiner. I am also prepping for the "Sexcation". Definitely excited to be reunited with him.... Definitely excited.

Saving, Caking and Cuffin these Hoes....

2009-07-19T14:09:00.000-07:00

Please note.... I got about 5 blogs that I just need to write. They are in progress, so I should be rolling out with a couple more in the next few days.

Ok, Before I even get into this, let me define a few things:

Hoe - Hoes is free... and Gods Gift like Xmas
Hookers - Hookers are Hoes that you pay to leave.
Escorts - Escorts are expensive hoes that you can take places. It's in their title. Escorts. They take people places.... Cuz Them Hoes is cultured and shit....

Now, on with the show....

My Dad asked me about the term "Captain Save-a-Hoe". He wanted to know why my brother and I used it. I had to explain to him, that hoes sometimes require saving... and if you save em once, you probably gonna hafta keep savin em. I said "Dad, iffin you throw on that cape once.. Hoe damsels in distress will stay fallin at yo feet for life."

Saving leads to resentment. My dad's thought was "Is it so wrong to help someone out? Say that they don't have enough to cover their rent and you give them a few dollars... Is that really that wrong?"

I had to explain to him that saving, caking and cuffing hoes is an illness... Hoe distress (or Hoestress) is not a temporary state of being. It is a constant.

Please dont confuse this with "Hoeing" in general. Hoeing is physics... Hoestress is the state of fucked up hoes who cant get they shit together. The actual problems might differ, but the fact of the matter is, there will always be some kinda problem.... Rent this month, car note next month, custody issues the month after that.

A couple of weeks ago, I woke up and saw that I had 6 or so phone calls from my homeboy. I finally get around to listening to my motherfucking voicemail and it is this random girl.

Story goes: Chick gave my homeboy a phone so he could handle business. He texted me to ask if he could come through the crib. I let him know that I had a migraine and that I felt sick. He then offered me a massage. I decline (cuz since when has a fuckin massage ever helped a migraine).

Well, the girl texts me and lets me know that "Her man ain't rubbin on no one but her." Then she left a voice mail saying something to the effect of "Sorry to hear that your sick but i feel like only licensed professionals should be giving you massages and shit..."

The above is an example of the emotional shrapnel caused by caking. Had she not bought him a phone, she would have no right to be mad about how he used or misused the afformentioned phone. She could have avoided displaying the effects of "Dumb Bitch Syndrome" on my phone at 6 AM. Who the fuck kirks out at 6am??? Get it together.

It really comes down to control. She bought the phone for him because it would serve as a means to making him indebted to her, while she could outwardly seem generous.

In reality, it didn't quite work out that way and in the end, she ended up makin crazed phone calls.

Lesson: Give wholly of yourself. If you are giving with the intent of having someone owe you in the end or be obligated to you, it invariably has the opposite effect. They will take, then they will take it for granted and they will feel entitled to more.

Cakin.... is for bakers. Bakers and dumb Bitches. Get your game up.

You must be used to me spendin
And all that sweet winin and dinin
Well I'm fuckin you tonight

Things to do in Portland when you're not busy fucking.

2009-07-19T08:42:00.000-07:00

I have scheduled my very first "Sexcation". I normally have a standing "I don't travel for Dick policy", but he is one of my faves.

I have met up with him in NY... To no avail. He was actually the source of my first "Shameless walk of shame", because when the hotel is really nice, ain't no shame in that.

HE is like a breath of fresh air right when I need it. Sweet, intelligent, attractive, funny, a gentleman and a body that makes my innards twitch when I think about it.Everytime we do the do, it is better than the last time. And this, my friends, is why I shall travel for it. He is a hard habit to kick and it's been a while.

She wants that old thing back. She want those Heroin tracks.
She likes me. She fiends for me nightly. She leans for me.
Morning she rush for my touch.
This is about LUST.
Cold sweats occur when I'm not with her
My presence is a must- must- must-
Bonita Applebum, i gotta put you on
If i didn't when we cuttin' the feeling would be too strong
In any form, I'm giving you sweet dreams
That Sugar Hill, she call me her sweet thing
That Black Rain that take away your pain
Just for one night, baby, take me in vein
Now that feelin' got you trippin'
You no wanna feel no differently
Said lust has got you itchin'
Nose wide open and its' drippin' -eh -eh -eh -eh
I know what you like, I am your prescription
I'm your physician, I'm your addiction

As Jay-z Says "Nine and a half weeks is better than 12 steps...."

On Friday, I got downright sexually frustrated. I messaged "Oh So Sexy" on facebook and state very simply and plainly "I need to fuck more.Come home."

His response was that he had a flight scheduled for Mid August but considering that we haven't seen or touched each other since May 27thish neither of us could wait that long, so we decide to schedule a midway sex rendezvous.

I already scheduled a 3 day weekend at the end of the month so I suggested that we meet then. He has a business trip doing associate lawyer type things that whole week in Portland, Oregon.(I have to specify Oregon, because apparently there is more than one Portland... Who knew?)

So I look at flights and schedule an inordinately expensive flight to get to Portland around 11pm on July 30th. Screw like rabbits that evening and then he has to work from 9 to 5 on Friday, which leaves us free from 6 pm on to continue to screw like rabbits.

This leaves me free to explore a new city and site see while his is doing lawyerlike type endeavors. I've never been to Portland and I am excited to see what the city has to offer.

So here is my list of shit I plan to do in Portland when I'm not busy fuckin.

The Portland Chinese Garden

Apparently theres Orchids and shit here. For 8.50, I can be surrounded by pretty shit.
The Grotto -The National Sanctuary of Our Sorrowful Mother

Aye, who doesn't love a Catholic Shrine.
The Portland Art Museum
Cuz I fucks with art. Apparently, they are running an Escher exhibit - M.C. Escher and Paradox.

They also have a tattoo exhibit. I need these things in my life.

I figure with all this stuff, plus random wanderings and the stockpile of condoms I plan on running through, this should be a productive and much needed Sexcation.

Lingerie, Red Lobster and G-Spot Amplifications.

2009-07-16T20:57:00.000-07:00

When I think about love... That shit makes me catch my breath in my chest. Feelings shouldn't feel so much. I just can't, and the mere thought of it is damn near overwhelmin'. That level of intensity is somethin I just can't cope with nowadays.

Perhaps it’s the abstaining... I find that my tolerance for it all has gone out the window. In the words of my friend Erian, “I just don’t got it to give right now.” And when I speak of giving, I am not speaking on the doling out of Vagina… No. I have plenty of Vagina to give. What I lack is feeling, enthusiasm and even a desire to be bothered or touched. It is too hot out to be bothered with heat that is generated by other people. Especially when that heat has decided to position itself right on top of me and thrust, resulting in friction and consequently more fucking heat and an increase in the probability of sweat.

There’s just a slew of things I no longer want to be bothered with:

The random oddity that is men.
The minute I got sick and tired of being sick and tired of the Bs… Yall mofo are comin outta the woodwork…. Did somebody set off a flare or something to alert every last man that I know to hit up my inbox? Some of yall are oldies, some of yall are goodies and some of yall are just random. From High school? Next thing you know, my elementary school boyfriend is gonna pop his lil ass up with two kids in tow, just DYIN to know how I’ve been doing. This dude is on my facebook trying to holler right now and he was born in 89. Is that even legal? I think he’s still in high school. This is a problem.
The Grab Bag that is penis.
There seem to be 2 specific categories of sex that I take issue with:
1. Olive Garden Sex
  This is that sex where everything is OK…. But nothing is spectacular. Its all a passable rendition of something you had before except what you had before was better and more satisfying. The only time you really bother to go back is if you’re REALLY hungry or you just plain forgot how forgettable everything is.
2. Red Lobster Sex
  If it weren’t for the Cheddar biscuits, you wouldn’t bother coming here. This person does one thing spectacularly well. But everything else is lame. Everything else is so lame that you stop bothering because the Cheddar Biscuits don’t make up for the travesty that will follow.
It comes to a point that I’d rather just go hungry than risk one of these two.
Lingerie….. is a fucking waste of money.
I’ve dropped money on lingerie in the past and my experience has been as follows:
1. I go to Victoria’s Secret and drop 100 dollars on a lacy teddy thing with a snap away crotch.
2. I meet up with male.
3. Male pulls the top down to get at my assets.
4. Male pushes bottom up to get at my assets.
5. 100 dollars worth of Lingerie ends up wrapped around my waist, cutting off my oxygen while the business occurs.
You ungrateful bastards…. I will never bother again. Thanks for nothing.
Shit that could lead to personal injury.
I ain’t doing shit that could lead to personal injury.

Mainly my issue is with Sex in the shower.

See, its all fun and games til shit gets slippery. Next thing you know, someone is falling down and what is the first thing you do when you are falling? GRAB SOMETHING STABLE LOOKING. Ie. You grab at me. Now we are both “Man Down” and butt naked. God forbid someone broke something. I would hate to have to explain butt naked shower death to someone’s mother.
I’ve also come to realize : If I wouldn't pay for it, I'd pass on it for free...

All dick was not created equal. There is some dick that I’d pay for. I’d drive for. I’d go that extra mile for. But if Im not willing to do any of that, I feel like “Why fuckin bother getting out of bed?” That’s where Im at in life.
The more sex you, the more dick you see and the more dick you see, the more you realize that most are closer to that standard deviation of penis. Just plain normal and boring and average. This is why, in our patriarchal society, we are encouraged not to have sex til marriage… So we don’t know how bad the dick that we settled on is.
I cut my losses.
I’ll walk away from a dick that I don't think will make me smile. No excuses, no apologies. I got to go... And I dip.
I now have the where with all to know when my genitals are counter productive to my life.

There are numerous people who I don’t do because of the potential negative ramifications on my life. People in my neighborhood, for instance. People that I’ve worked with. Having sex with them and their Standard Deviation penis will cause more problems than it’s worth.
Never be willing to give someone everything.
This actually came out of a discussion with my friend about a girl who’d left her.
Me: That bitch was dumb.

Homie: Yeah, I would have given her anything she wanted.

Me: No. She was dumb because you’re a great catch. You were dumb cause you would have given her anything she wanted. You can’t give people everything. If you give them everything then they take it for granted and they don’t appreciate anything. You gotta give like 75, 80 percent max. Make them happy most of the time. You gotta toss in alil miserable, so that they can appreciate how good the good times are. Think about it. We’ve all left someone who would have given us everything. You gotta hold alil back.

Homie: Yo. That’s true. I left “April” and she tried to give me the world….

Me: Exactly.
Never put all your eggs in one uterus.

This phrase is actually ass backward, but at it’s essence it means: We’re all young. Enjoy yourself and be open to the possibility of running into something both unexpected and awesome.

I’ve temporarily hung up my glitter thong, but imma let you know, when I strap it back on – G-spot Amplification all day. ALL DAY!.

The Laws of Attraction.

2009-07-07T21:49:00.000-07:00

The Secret States that whatever you think about will be drawn to you. Good or bad. Wants and Don't wants... They get drawn to you.

I have greatly attempted to avoid all convo about this asshole... but apparently even when other people bring him up and I attempt to change the subject... The law of attraction is at work.

My HIV positive Asshole Ex who roams DC attempting to infect innocent women, all the while telling them that I am the reason that he is sick (completely ignoring my 2 negative tests that landed him squarely outside of my window period).

I have now given up on sex until I run into the person who I am meant to be with. I will be trying to draw my soulmate to me while simultaneously drawing 2 new adventures and a relocation.

I told the universe "I wanna go to Vegas". And then my friend invited me on his trip to Vegas. The secret works... But Ill be damned if it dont draw in whatev is floating around. Whether you want it or not....

Thank God Fourth of July only comes once a Year

2009-07-05T14:25:00.000-07:00

I am unsure as to exactly what happened last night.

I awoke wear a backward wife beater and an inside out pair of Boxers.

I recall the following details.

I started off in some part of VA and large quantities of Mojitos popped off.Then somehow I made it to Silver Spring, where wine, cardplaying and numerous totally inappropriate conversations occurred.

Later I end up at my house, where shit really got weird.....

I established that everyone was a consenting adult (don't ask)...
Showed off my rugburn.
Bit someone on the neck.
Made up a song called "Smack a Chickenhead" and outright was confused.
Someone tried to kidnap a dog.
Alot of people spoke russian and some time around 6am I gave up on life...

Whatever.

At this point.... The events of this last weekend rivaled insanity that popped off in 2000. Swear to god.

Also, It managed to kill my sex drive. Outright. It killed my sex drive worse than Birth Control Pills Kill your sex drive.

I am now hermitted in my home. HERMIT. DONE. Scared of the crazy that happens when leavin my house occurs. Fuck this shit. Peace OUT!

When Sex leads to Scars

2009-06-29T09:00:00.001-07:00

This title sounds super dramatic. Like it’s about rapery or something unfun and emotional scars… It totally isn’t. This blog is NOT about "echoing my souls pain" or some shit like that. I am not a fucking EMO high schooler. I am a grown woman... wit bills and shit!!!

Thursday afternoon, I got sick. I went home early and passed the fuck out. Note to readers: catching the bus any time around 5 pm aint a good look. Everyone was an asshole.

So I get home and get my sleep on and I wake up Friday with every muscle in my body hurting. I dunno. I can't call it. Mighta been swine flu. I Blackberry in sick and go back to sleep. I wake up and eat something. I take a Klonopin and go back to sleep. At this point, Sick feels awesome. I am doped up on cold meds and Klonopin and I am on a sick floaty cloud. At this point, I would have recommended illness to anyone who asked. I was out of it.

I kept getting random texts from POA (Pieces of Ass)... 22, and 23, and 2 other people.....

I distinctly recall somebody hittin me up and offered to bring me chicken soup and rub Vicks on my chest. I almost threw up in my mouth.
A) I don't eat meat Jack Ass. I pass on your bullshit soup.
B) The thought of you rubbing Vicks on my chest while I'm sick sounds real molesty and I do not like. I DO NOT LIKE. Fail.

I was real sick sos I declined all offers. Even the tempting ones.

I woke up Saturday and ended up hopped up on sickness, caffeine and Klonopin. My cuzz came thru to check on me and came bearing stir fry, butternut squash soup, OJ, a Thermometer and other ill type shit. She just got over the Swine Flu so she came prepared for the worst. We had a 90s movie fest.... First we watched "Threesome" and then we watched "Reality Bites"... Then my ass fell asleep again.

Sunday I woke up and wandered. I did weighted crunches, and curls and shit. I checked my P.O. Box. I went to work and did ill work type shit. I went to Eves and loitered. Alot. Then I got a text. A tempting text. A "Come thru" type text...

Hmmm, I feel better enough sos I hop in the car for a mini trek and an adventure.

Please note that it was good. Iffin it weren't good, I wouldn't have drove them 20 mins. But down to the nitty gritty.

We doin the damn thing and punishment is occurring, trust. I told him to hurt that junt, so we move to the carpet to cut down on that pesky mattress bounceback. Somewhere in there I said "Are you mad today?" to which he replied "No." and I said "Damn. I'd love to catch you on a day when you are PISSED. That shit would be Insane!"...

So, we wrap it up, he tryin to tap out and I sure as hell got a big grin on my face. Gettin myself together cuz I had to work today and I look at the carpet and there's a blood stain.

HOLE UP. I know that shit wasn't there before. It cannot by any means be my flow... So I feel my back. Wet. Rug burn. Not just any old rug burn...

I've had my share of rug burn. Even got fucked up on non skid speckled surface.. That shit at schools and playgrounds where its like they threw down small gravel and painted over.... (Don't ask. I will not be divulging details. Only one other person knows exactly what happened and he's facin jail time.)

This shit was worse. Way worse.

I am special. And entirely too old to be gettin rug burn. WTF.

I am officially on the motherfuckin injured reserve list. So went my sick strange weekend. and I is chipper as ever.

Side note:
This is a 7 minute synopsis of all of my relationships. Seriously.

Errrrm. I wake up and I know its over. and it is....
*************************************************************************************
How to quit smoking

Get sick for 72 hrs.
So sick that you cannot smoke.
Wake up 72 hrs. later. Smoke free. The end.
*************************************************************************************

Main lesson learned.... Put down a towel or a blanket. Cuz while the carpet might look soft, it could be hazardous.

Some truths that I have come to....

2009-06-25T15:07:00.000-07:00

Now first off, I'm pissed that Mediatakeout ain't hit me off with this info before I got a text on that shit from random mofos. Mediatakeout.... yall fuckin up.

I need Michael Jackson to live for the following reasons:

I cannot stomach the marathon of old shit they gonna play right after he passes.

DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW BIG HIS CATALOG OF MUSIC IS? And I just cannot deal with havin to listen to Thriller or Billie Jean 8 times a day. I CANNOT.
I don't feel like listenin to everyone pretend like he ain't touch them kids.

Now, don't get me wrong.... He is a great and well accomplished artist. But that don't change the fact that he touched them kids. Nor does the fact that he touched them kids alert the fact that he was a great musician..

All I know is this:

Michael touched them kids and ain't never had sexual intercourse with a woman eva.
OJ Killed them people.
I thought he was funny in them movies. I'm sure he was a great football player and all... But after that "If I did it" Book.... Dunzo.
R Kelly peed on that girl.

I seent it. Technically, I seent all three videos. I seent R Kels eat ass. I seent him pee in that girls face. I seent him have Erectile Dysfunction... This dont mean Mr. Kelly don't make good Music. I know that the first dance at my wedding will most definitely be "Feelin on your booty"...

But I seent it.... You peed on that girl.

Deny it all you want. Thems is some truths....

Happy Wednesday

2009-06-24T07:09:00.000-07:00

HAPPY FLUTTERBYS FOR YOU!!!

Fucked up shit pops off in DC, Life decisions are made as a result.

2009-06-23T16:13:00.000-07:00

So, errybody in DC knows what had popped off.

2 metro trains collided. Not tapped each other. Not a fuckin bump. No fender bender type shit.

This is what had occurred:

Hmmm. Something like 7 dead. 70 or so people injured.

So the night is coming to an end and I'm thinkin.... I'm thinkin bout Ole Boy and how time is short and how I really would like to be with him..... People die everyday... Blah Blah Blah...

So, I call him. No answer.

Mind you, had he gave a hot damn... He'd have called me first. I coulda been dead round this bitch! Yall know I ride the mothafuckin red line!!!!

So this morning, I hit him up again.... Still no answer.

This afternoon rolls around and it's a wrap. He ain't hit me back. Fuck it.

I ain't the one (shakes head vigorously). I'm a boss bitch.

My jobs on point. I'm Educated. I know my way around sex organs. I look DAMN GOOD. I'm Intelligent and I have a good head on my shoulders. I'm not the motherfuckin one.

I'll be damned if I left anybody play me to the motherfuckin side like some dusty ass bitch. And especially if I'm happy, and everything else in my life is on point and I got one person up in the mix, treatin me to less consideration than I deserve and causin premature wrinkles cuz of the screw face...

When you get a bill fo my motherfuckin Botox, you gonna be real mad.
A text would have been nice. A call. Shit. A Blackberry Ping. Nada.

And you know what, He ain't made it back into my phone since the last time he F'd up. Uh Uh. No No No.

I'm tired of talking about it. I know my friends are tired of hearing about how "I'm Trying to Make it Work". I'm the only one.... and.... I'm done.

Shut it down.

Come correct or don't Come at all...

Extracurricular fuckin leads to problems (This is J, Everyday. I never change.)

2009-06-19T09:07:00.000-07:00

The topic of cheating keeps on popping up in the world. I don't really do the whole cheating thing cuz I personally believe that one significant other is enough of a headache. Cheating is like asking for an embolism. Even tho I don't really do the cheating thing, I do feel some kinda way about the topic...

Cheating (in my opinion) has not occurred if there has not been any penetration.
Examples:
- Blow jobs - Cheating.
- Dry humping - Bad Idea, but not technically cheating.
- Hand job - Not cheating
- Anal - Cheating...
You get the idea. And while a hand job isn't cheating... If that hand job manages to segue into a blow job.... Problems.
Never tell your jump off that he is better in bed than your man.

First off, that's Hella disrespectful. That's almost worse than the actual cheating.

Second, Don't think you can tell him that shit and not fuck up the power equation in your situation. Iffin he thinks he's doin something, he'll thing he has that ass on lock. Next thing you know, he is making demands and trying to call shots.

Third, that shit ain't none of his Gotdamm business..... If he needs an ego boost, buy him a copy of this shit...

That way, whenever he feels low and unappreciated, he can pop that in and get a nice pick me up.
Never think you're the only one: This is two-sided.

If you think the sex ain't hittin for nothin in your relationship, it' possible he feels the same damn way.. You creep. He might be creepin his damn self. And while your busy trying to cover your tracks, you don't have the time to focus on his shit.

Also don't think you're your jumpoff's only either. He's probably doin him too
Find good excuses

I went over this in detail in the blog "To tell the truth, blindfolded, I wouldn't be able to tell the difference".

Don't have horrific alibis. Even simple shit will get yo ass tripped up. Be sure to get your alibi straight.

Confirm alibis before you give em. If you say you were at Shonda's house, let Shonda know that you were with her and inform her of what yall did.
In the digital age, please don't do dumb Internet shit.

DO NOT THINK YOU'RE SLICK

Do not labor under the delusion that your game is so tight that you can introduce your man and your jump off to one another and merely explain that your jump off is a "Very close friend" or that he is "Your play cousin" and shit will be cool...

You are not that slick and hopefully your significant other is not that dumb.
The blog entitled "Shit that's not gonna fucking fly" resulted from a situation like that
Obey the laws of vaginal elasticity.

I did a non-scientific study on how long it takes for a vagina, stretched beyond its normal capacity, to shrink back down to homeostasis so that extracurricular activities are undetectable.

The resulting conclusion.... 2 weeks.
So unless your jumpoff is of equivalent size as your mate (What would be the fun in that?) you should use PUSSY B TIGHT aka China Shrink Cream or an equivalent product...

Because China Shrink Cream costs $12.95 (with free shipping) but not getting caught fucking around is priceless.

Or..... You can always go little to big or big to little.. or schedule some shit right after your flow and blame any vaginal inconsistencies on Tampon Usage and a heavy flow.
Know when to cut shit off.

When I was first fooling around with Steve, I was stepping out on my long distance piece (Charles). Steve didn't like being 2nd. I'm pretty sure he had validation issues.

In reality, he was really 3rd. I had a regular local piece who had a car (which Steve didn't) and who was blissfully uncomplicated (which Steve wasn't).

Our second time hooking up, Steve decided to get drunk and have an outpouring of emotion in my kitchen.

The resulting tirade was as follows:
(Please note: There were tears and this was at 2am on a weekday)
I know you have a boyfriend and that is what it is, cuz if he was handlin his business, I wouldn't be here. But I'm here now and I'll deal with him cuz he lives far away and shit but this local booty call has got to go.

Whoa. Hold tha fuck up. You just got put on. You have yet to prove yourself. And for you to assume that my boyfriend at the time wasn't correctly laying pipe is really outta fuckin pocket. Had you thought for a second, you would have realized that the only reason I kept him was for (1) The business and (2) For feelings and shit. The only reason you are even in this piece is cuz he lives far. As the low man on this motherfuckin totem pole, YOU DO NOT CALL SHOTS! VETO. Cut from team.

This actually resulted in the inception of the "STOP THE BITCHERY MOVEMENT". He was sent home shortly after.
Never forget to hit "One Last Time"

There is no shame in it. Often, I know its the last time.... I just don't tell them motherfuckers. Don't make no difference. Puttin in work at the last minute won't get you no reprieve...

All in all, don't cheat. Cheatin leads to bad shit.... but if you do cheat, don't get caught. Gettin caught leads to worse shit.

*************************************************************************************
Additional points and tidbits:

*I'd rather argue wit BK than be peacable wit anyone else in the world. Even when we argue, I can't help but rock a smile... He funny and logical. I'm special and I rant. I'm gay for him...

*The blog is now open again. Fuck it. This is Me. If people wanna get mad at the shit they read... FUCK IT. If People wanna feel some kinda way about the shit they read, holla at me and speak yo peace or kick rocks.... It is what it is. I can't change... This is J, Everyday...

Please feel free to get wit the original as well (gotta love that fuckin shit):

Cocaine fucks up lives... Ruffin was my Fave Temptation. GET IT!!!!

Yves Saint Laurent Strappy Platform Sandals....

2009-06-17T16:38:00.000-07:00

Yves Saint Laurent - Strappy Platform Sandals (Lola)

These are mine.
I lusted after them and when I finally got up the balls to buy them... Sold out. Then I found the blue ones on sale... Mine. No more shoe regrets.

Specs:
Yves Saint Laurent
Strappy Platform Sandals

Metallic leather straps wrap around a patent leather heel for added drama.
Heel, 5¼"
Two adjustable ankle straps
Leather lining and sole
Made in Italy
DUE TO HIGH DEMAND, A CUSTOMER MAY ORDER NO MORE THAN THREE UNITS OF THIS ITEM EVERY THIRTY DAYS.

No more shoe regrets... hope I don't break my neck.

Tha muthafuckin secret!!!!

2009-06-16T19:51:00.000-07:00

I was talkin to this chick on Blackberry messenger the other day. She said some ill ass shit. I shall share.

She said:

No matter what the difficulty is or who is involved you stay true mentaly to the outcome you wish to see. ...but you always decide what you want, you're asking the universe for anything you want. 2nd you believe that its yours from that second, because the Universe has everything and will always respond to your commands if--» 3rd you align yourself with what you want through feeling that you already have it.

This shit took at least 24 hours to sink into my head.... Actually that was wine/beer/Kristy and Ebo's faults. Debauchery occurred and I managed to smile easy for the first time in a minute.

So I woke up this morning with my normal(possibly lethal) combination of Wellbutrin plus 2 caffeine pills (just so i can get out of bed in the mornings) and tossed on top of that a half of a Klonopin. I walked out of my door and things were...ok.

I went to work and it was Work-tastic. I worked all day and thought. I thought about the universe and the butterfly effect (just like that time I almost ran out of gas in NJ) and it occurred to me that perhaps while I was so deep in thought on the turnpike, I just might have been on the verge of grasping this very thing...

There is someone out there who is FOR ME. Like really for me. He is out there and he's coming. Like the perfect guy for me. He'll do all the things that I have been looking for and some surprise things that I haven't.

It aint rocket science. And it wont take alot of work. He will go above and beyond because he is FOR ME.

He'll send me flowers at work, just because.
He'll pop up in town and surprise me.
He'll wake me up with kisses on the back of my neck.
He'll go that extra mile to make me smile.
He'll be smart.
and super upbeat and positive.
He'll love to travel and we'll go places and do things like wander off to Morocco.

Before.... I wasn't sure... but now I get it. Ill trust my instincts and do what feels right. I cant spend my time weighing options and pros and cons and the what ifs... and if I have to do that, then your not the person "For Me". Its that simple and until then, I shall be a flittering ass butterfly.

I shall leave you with random ass songage.

The first video is the song that was in my head this morning, cuz I got drunk and passed out watching Tv. It used to be someones favorite song. Killa or that guy from Cleveland... Somebody. Whatever. Enjoy. or dont. He liked the Todd Rudgren version. I prefer the Mandy Moore junt.

The second one is completely Eves fault. Stone her....

and its open....

2009-06-16T17:24:00.001-07:00

My brain is working differently today. We open again. OPEN!

Two tears in a bucket, Fuck it.

2009-06-15T07:43:00.000-07:00

And it happened again… My sex drive died. Perhaps its because I’m dealing with too many different things but at this point… I am tired and want no parts of man parts. I want to nap. And drink tequila. And loiter the best I can.

The BK saga continues. I broke things off (I guess) on Saturday… Which lead him to contract me aloooot on Sunday. He conveniently ignores shit that he doesn’t want to hear. Things like, “I can’t and won’t put up with this situation anymore….” or “I’m really mad at you.” Apparently he doesn’t engage in things like that. It’s oddly comforting and also bewildering… He’ll be like “Yeah, I saw your message but I really didn’t read it. I just called you instead….” What the fuck?

At this point, I’m tired of trying or caring or something. Im just tired.

We talked for a long time last night about random shit, but 3 weeks of neglect made me feel a disconnect, like the bond that was forming has been severely damaged. Its like not watering a plant for 3 weeks and the popping up and sprinkling water on it and getting annoyed when it doesn’t immediately flower.

All of this has left me feeling very “Fuck You” today.

Just whelmed. Over and Underwhelmed. I have apparently managed to dissociate from this situation because I don’t feel a damn thing. And, I guess, even if he won’t acknowledge me breaking things off, it doesn’t seem to affect how I feel… which is nothing. Toward him or anyone else. Im tired. 2009 has kicked my ass about 5 times over and I’d rather nap than be bothered with it.

Perhaps things will change if I see him. Lord knows I could use some sex to restart my sex drive.... But I'd probably prefer to just nap.

Here are some fucking anthologies and shit. I am to Blah to write anything worth reading today.

Catch me next week.... I'm sure Ill have more to say.

Don't dress Dick up like a relationship..... Keep Dick Honest.

2009-06-03T18:51:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I dipped out to NJ.

Sos I was headed to NJ friday night and I was thinking about the butterfly effect and Chaos theory and the Domino effect and who you know and who you meet and the interwoven connections that you make throughout your life and the need for meaningful human interaction and contact and I was so deep in thought that my punk ass almost ran out of gas.

Here's how it went:
On the NJ turnpike there are only about 3 fucking rest stops between the beginning and exit 7a. I passed the 1st one and said "Fuck it. I got a quarter of a tank. I can make it to the next stop."

Did I mention that these rest stops are like 15 to 30 mins apart? Sos I'm Driving and we hit a point where I am too far to turn around and go back but I am also too far from gas and the needle is riding on E. What THE FUCK? Bad planning on my part.

Sos I turn to the GPS hoe and go "GPS. Show me gas."

Gps says that there is gas 1.5 miles from me.... Ok GPS. Lets make gas happen. Lets make that a reality. GPS says, "OK".

3 mins later GPS lets me know that the route to gas is incalculable.

GPS... you are officially fuckin up. Real talk. Get it together boo boo. This is bullshit.

I end up getting off on the Camden exit, credit card in hand, prepared for a tow, cuz I'm soooo certain Imma need that junt. Whatever.

Get off and get to a bullshit ass gas station in Runnemede, NJ. I commence in arguing with the guy who pumps my gas as to whether he would come get me if I was stranded on the turnpike or not...

Lessons learned:
Never get so deep in thought that you forget to get gas.
Also, be sure to keep at least a quarter of a tank of gas in your car.
*************************************************************************************

My heart is made quite etch-a-sketch like. I drive to Jersey, shake my heart out and get back from NJ and I feel better.

I like BK. I do. It's like God woke up one day and was like "Netta is odd. Like real odd... and it would be cruel to not give her someone in this world who mirrors her same weirdness. Iffin I were to put her in another body, like all her odd eccentric tastes (food, movies, music, thoughts) what would it look like?"

Then they created BK. Or perhaps it was the other way around cuz he's older.

But after him being touch and go and mostly just out of touch, I deleted his number. This is commonplace for me. But I also deleted him from my Blackberry messenger.

Because I would rather have things end like this:

Than to invest a shitload of time and end up in a situation like this:

Where I put in too much time to leave, but theres too much bullshit for me to stay....

Well, Blackberry messenger is a fucking hater. Cuz when he looked on it and realized he was no longer on my Blackberry messenger list, I got a text that said "Did you take me off your list!!!!?????"

Damn. Blackberry messenger! You fuckin up!!! You should have just removed him from my list, and left me visible on his list but not actually sent me any messages that he tried to send me... WTF?

Also, was all them damn exclamation points and question marks necessary? It's like the exclamation points made it a statement but the question marks made it rhetorical ass question. Unnecessary.

So re-added was he, which lead to a torrent of insanity.

Essentially the convo was me going like this:

"What the fuck? You cannot put me in escrow til you want me. I AM PEOPLE DAMMIT. I need 2 things in this world: 1. A man to take my panties off with his teeth and 2. A daily text message. If you need someone to ignore, perhaps you should find someone else to fucking ignore"

Cept it was longer. This is why I'd deleted him. To avoid that level of crazy. Apparently that weren't in the cards.

He replied with a "Wow, I see. Apparently I have been rude or selfish or whatever. You deserve more attention than that."

I like my penis honest. Don't dress it up like a relationship when it aint.

I got laid last night. It was.... Very good. And honest. No pretense of intimacy. Just excellent foreplay and backshots... kisses and enjoyed shared company. Good shit.

Woke up with a smile and hit him up this morning with my usual "Appreciate the dick, good shit, hope we can do it again" follow-up text.

Bootycalls need to feel appreciated too. This is why I recommend instituting a Bootycall appreciation week. It should commence immediately following V-day and should be spread out over the course of a week to keep people from stretching themselves too thin. Bootycalls need appreciation too.

Whatever.

Just keep dick honest. It reduces the likelihood of violence and text outbursts.

Anyway, I came back from Jersey and the damn carpet drama commences. We finally get carpet... and it rains. The damn workers left some plastic out back and that bitch tried to flood again. Minimal damage tho. It is what it is.

Lemme just point out. I'm goin through some damn changes. I might need to move. I'm stacking paper. I might need to be in NJ for a while. Won't know for sure until Dec.

I am the Executor of my Dads Will..... It is my job to make those tough decisions. The one decision I know already is that Imma resuscitate Dad til he can't be resuscitated no mo... Cuz iffin I don't Ill have to sit through awkward conversations in which my brother goes "Hey, Remember that time you let Dad die?"

*************************************************************************************

These past few weeks random shit was said and heard. I shant name names (cept my own) but here is the shit that was said.... and was heard.

A woman in a hummer is dangerous and shit. Like if they on they period....
Person 1: You do know she spent a lot of money on me?
Person 2: Does that mean you're a hooker?
Person 1: Yes. Yes it does.
Person 1: She was high yella.
Person 2: Did you really just say that?
Me: It was giving me the vapors.
Shrinkman: No one says that anymore. I like that saying. Old school...
Me: I'd do anal for 30,000. Shit, I do it for free anyway... so if you offering, I'll take 30 k. Pay off my car, student loans and have a decent downpayment for a crib... You could pooh in my mouth for 1.5 million.

Person 2: Wouldn't you think about that shit and be bothered?

Me: You know how much Listerine you can buy with 1.5 mil?

Bartender: Fuck that. 1 bottle of Listerine and a hypnotist.... It'd be like it never happened.
You haven't figured this out yet. This isn't "you steal from me". This is "me stealing from you". It's cool. You'll get it.

*************************************************************************************

That reminds me... My new shrink disappeared. Guess he quit or something. Whatevs. Think I like the old shrink better anyways...

*************************************************************************************

Let me finish up with this one last bullshit tidbit:

When I was in elementary school, I was buried in a book constantly. I just liked to read alot. Well, one day I was informed that this boy (apparently popular by elementary school standards....) liked me. He shortly after became my "boyfriend" or whatever. We'd sneak kisses by the water fountain. Anyways, One weekend I was riding my bike and I fell off and scratched my face. On monday, I was broken up with and unpopular....

Perhaps this was lifes preparation for the rest of life. That way, when my face was fucked up from the car accident and I was a hot mess, I was okay. It also helps keep into perspective the relationships I have now....

This guy once said to me "Remember when you were chunky in middle school?"

I turned to him and replied "I have realized that in life, it doesn't matter what I used to look like... Only what I look like now."

The public is fickle. Make sure your friends are honest and trustworthy and keep them close. Cuz how you are now is a temporary state of being and when your circumstances change, you need to know who'll be there for you, when the chips are down.

I know this was a long one. Blame my Facebook wife for being demanding...

Good dick, Good wine but no fuckin carpet....

2009-05-27T14:08:00.000-07:00

So, the house fucking flooded again.. Just like when we first moved in, cept this time someone decided to rip up the whole fucking carpet.

Yesterday, I went to bed at 2 am... and woke up to yells from my Roomie at 6am. The entire floor was saturated. It was very uncool. Very uncool. So's I said "Fuck it" and went back to sleep.

Went to work in the morning and was still blah. Got home and checked on the plans for the evening. "Oh So Sexy"

It is amazing how, the longer you know someone, the better the business gets. Mind boggling. He makes me say ignant ass shit...

I feel like this shit:

Honestly, had it not been for tha business that got served til 4am... Today would have been completely unbearable. So amazing that I am scheming on having him move here so that he can violate me on a regular basis. At least once a week. There's always tomorrow. Yummy.

"Nickels for my thoughts, Dimes in my bed, Quarters of the kush shape the lines in my head, take my verses too serious ya hate me cause i'm the one to paint a vivid picture no HD" -Drake

This 40 year old guy wants to go on a date tonight. He has a 12year old. Hmmm. 40-26= 14. 26-12= 14. He and I and his son.... separated by 14 years. Creepy.
This ended up on my facebook the other day in a segment I like to call "I'm Just Sayin tho":
Iffin I werent particular about who read my statuses... My shit would say:

Jeanetta is annoyed that you texted her "Damn, I miss eatin that pussy"...

Why? Why would you miss it when you sucked at it? Is that supposed to make me cancel my plans tonight so that I can sit on your face and have you make a mockery of the practice that is cunnilingus.

You should just stop that. Slang dick instead. Your head game is horrendous and should never be used as a ploy to get between my thighs. The end.

And yeah.. I still got plans so go rub on yoself... and I got plans tomorrow too.
Whack ass head makes me ill.
And you still cant spell. Fuck off.
I am chewing Nicorette in an attempt to put down cigarettes for good and I realized:

If I chew Nicorette, and I kiss on a nonsmoker regularly while chewing this Nicotine laced gum, I could possibly get a nonsmoker addicted to kissing me.... I like this thought. Alot. My roommate says I'm evil. He just might be right...
I was chatting with an old booty call the other day and he offered me some dick.

I informed him that :
1. I have a blog and would surely document intercoursing with him in it (as I know he loves his privacy and would disapprove)
  
  and that
2. He has never even come close to giving me an Orgasm. Ever.
He says that this is due to the fact that he never tried to give me an orgasm and suggests that he will make an attempt to pleasure me in exchange for being left out of my blog.

Naw, how bout you actually gimme one and I won't write about you.... But if you fail, its open season Bitch. Fire that ass up...
If you have a lil dick, don't be mad at me for talkin bout it.... No no no. Slap yo daddy. That shit aint my fault. That's Heredity.
My homegirl said this shit the other day:

I ain't givin up no free pussy... A nigga could pay me tho.

Whoooooa. There is a Fine Line between Gold diggin and Hoeing and apparently my homegirl done crossed the fuckin line. I don't gold dig. Fuck yo dollas. I got my own. I don't want shit from you. Keep them dollars. I buy my own meals and my own cocktails and I ain't got no problem treating either.

Additionally, Imma learn this fuckin math and get my grad degree on so I can own the fuckin mine. Ain't no free ride. Not from anybody.

We all make choices in our lives and I think that she realized that the choices that you make sometimes cost you way more than you anticipated and you can't rewind time to reclaim what you lost.
The deal with BK:
Since Khaki Asked, I shall answer. I am impatient as shit. I want what I want when I want it, just like everyone else in the world.

But E-Real broke it down like this, during a drunken Memorial day weekend.

Okay Erykah Badu! You have packed yo whole car Vuitton baggage. Leave it on the side of the road cuz your weighin down your whole car. Five mins into the trip you done ran out of gas and now you can't go no where cuz you made the car so damn heavy...

Fuck it. He's cool. Shit, he could even be the one. But my 2009 has been bullshit thus far. The only goal I've accomplished this whole year is "Do not catch Fatal STD"... Which is what's up and all but I gotta do better. So iffin I wanna succeed, I gotta get my GRE on.

Totally trapped in my head.

Gotta go get my learn on....

The first time.....

2009-05-24T11:47:00.000-07:00

The first time you get in free. No cover charge...

Fuck it up and see....

Reentry costs. Expensive as a mothafucker!

Big Dick Greg, Giving up and Redoing lent

2009-05-23T07:28:00.000-07:00

So, I've offically given up. After having numerous convos about what he wants and what I want, last night we talked about what he wants vs what I want yet again (I hate the gay talking about the "feelings"), I have realized that what he wants and what I want ain't the same shit. He isn't where he nor I thought he was, which don't work for me, tho he pretty much wants things to continue like they were...

Naw. I'm good.

I'd rather not go down this road again. I need a t-shirt that says "Same shit, Different Dick." Cuz it is alway the same bullshit... Just with a different face and accent.

It's funny how these motherfuckers dissappear and then reappear.

Let me regale you with the tale of Big Dick Greg. He literally is labeled Big Dick Greg in my phone... Cuz that's all he's bringin to the table.

Big Dick, a blunt and a bottle of E & J. (Come to think of it, he sounds like somebody's dream man.... Iffin you want his myspace, email me).

He even has that Big Dick walk, like he has to walk funny to manuever around his own massive cock...

Anywho, Big Dick Greg and I went back to elementary school, dated in middle school and met back up during my college years. Big Dick Greg weren't smart... Not book smart or street smart... Naw. Neither.

Nor was he well off financially. Honestly his money was fucked.

But he did have a Big Ass Dick and in my youth, a Big Ass Dick could pass for true love if you tilted your head and squinted just right.

He was off that bullshit... I was in school, making good money and willing to love his broke, dumb, big dick havin ass....

But then the infamous "half naked girl on the couch" scenario popped off:

I'd stopped by his crib to pick up shit I'd left there, and it was summer, so his dumb big dick havin ass used to like to leave the door open (in NE Dc).... He was dumb. But his dick was massive.

Anyway, so I walk in and am startled. There is a bitch with no bottoms on sittin on his couch. I was still young and confused so I poured myself a drink (at my age now, I'd have thrown something and dipped)...

Anyway I poured myself a drink while he explained "See what had happened was, her grandfather died and she came over to talk and she was sad so she took off her pants...."

OMFG your a moron...

But for some reason (I can't remember why) I felt the need to be cordial (blame it on a southern upbringing)....

So I asked the half naked girl on the couch where she was from.

Half Naked girl: "What do you mean?"

Me: "What do you mean "What do I mean?" Like for instance, I'm from atlanta, but then I moved up here. Where are you from?"

Her: Oh. Dc. (Yeah... I figured that by now. I bet you've never left. You sound like the product of a DC public education.)

He and I ended cordially enough... Big dicks make a lot of shit possible but I still needed to distance myself from that bullshit saga.

I finished up school, had a nervous breakdown and true to form, I did what I always did and revisited my "Ghosts of Penises past" to look for answers and sort out "Where it all went wrong"...

And like clockwork, I arrived right back at Big Dick Greg... This was a short lived excersion. He was not doing well. But shit, I wasn't doing well either.

He didn't look like shit, he didn't look good like he used to and tho I was damn near certifiable at the time, my hair was on point and I was thinner than I'd ever been. I mighta been crazy but I looked damn good.

I'll say this: there is an immense level of satisfaction to be gained when you look great and your ex looks like a train wreck. Its okay to not want you ex to be happy, to not want to forgive and forget in a benevolent fashion.... Sometimes all I can do is wish them a slow death, cuz that's all I got to give, naw mean...

Malevolent anger and disdain. It aint pretty but it sure is honest and if you treated me badly, you land squarely on my Fuck You list...

Anywho, I extracted myself from that encounter quickly cuz even tho I was a half step away from a 12 step detox and a quarter step away from either a mental hospital or Jail, I'd still grown enough to know that A Big Dick can only compensate for so much. He hit me up the other day asking when he could see me... And as tempting as that big dick is.... Naw , I'm good... Thick long dick just aint worth the aggravation anymore...

Same shit, different dick.

Really, its all a matter of averages...

Like that Statistics professor said:

If you're not good-looking, you'd better be good; & if you're not good, you'd better be rich... Oh, I'm sorry. It's true, but I'm still sorry.

Dumb + Broke + Triflin + Big dick.... Even if we grading on a curve you still aint hittin for more than 25%...
FAIL!

Smart + Broke + Honest + Big Dick....

75%. Solid pass.

The more you bring to the table, just in terms of quantity improves your odd. Say you bring 100 things to table. You can have 25 fucked up qualities... So long as you got 75 positives, you good. Quantity leaves for a greater margin of fuckery. Quality is what will make or break you in the end tho....

C'est la vie. All in all, it is what it is. Bk was my last attempt at dating. We clicked on so many levels that, if this didn't work, aint shit gonna work.

I give up. Officially, for the record, once and for all. I give up.

And in my efforts to give up, I am redoin Lent...

So I'm givin up cigarettes, liquor, and (most) men...

Cuz its a venn diagram of fuckery or perhaps a triangle or maybe a nice flow chart... Or maybe its just people math.

Bad men = aggravation > my desire to not smoke and drink thus leading to tequila and Newport's.

Liquor = increase in desire for men and cigarettes....

Cigarettes must be smoked outdoors, which leads to the meeting of the mens, which leads to the desire to drink....

So I got 2 boxes of Nicorette and I'm lockin myself in my house. I'm done with the bullshit for 09. Done. Its a motherfuckin wrap...

Money talks, Bullshit walks.....

2009-05-20T18:07:00.000-07:00

Vacay recap:
Lemme just say this about Florida.
DO NOT, under any circumstances lay out on the beach for 5 hrs with no sunscreen.

My whole body is peeling. My dermatologist is heated. My esthetician is going to be even more mad. I had to cancel all my "re-arrival" booty. Penises are not happy with me.

Also, people in tropical climates drink to numb the pain of Sunburns.

Lesson learned.

*************************************************************************************
I always know when its Blog Writin time, cuz I wake up in the morning talkin to myself. This morning I was muttering to myself about decisiveness. I'm a huge fan of "Shit or get off the pot"..... Being indecisiveness just seems like a big waste of time. I picked out my 1st apt and signed the lease in 3 days. I bought my car in under a week. I like to be swift with the decision makin.

I was headed home today and was thinking. Thinking about how, when you own your own business, there are two kinds of people...

Those who make you money and those who make you lose money, by wasting your fucking time. Then I get home and look at my cell phone. Hmmm, old acquainantce from long long ago.

This old acquaintance was the second kind of person and the fact that I am no longer in business makes me super not want to be bothered with him.

Our old encounters used to go something like this:
Asshole Guy: Hey, I just had (insert long dragged out story with a shit load of drama in it that don't fucking matter in terms of any business we might do, tho he thinks it might soften me up to give him a better deal) pop off. I need some cash fast or (insert bullshit consequence to afforementioned personal problem). Can you give me (whatever) at (moderate price)?

Me: Sure cuz you're peoples. (Translated: Sure, cuz tho this deal won't make me a millionaire, it won't break me either....)

Asshole Guy: Thanks so much.

(Two Hours Later)

Me: I have pulled strings and it can be done for (moderate bullshit price).

Asshole Guy: Hmm, that's alil high. Can you (cut price in half)?

Me: That's impossible. (This deal just became bullshit.)

Asshole Guy: Fuck it. I'll work something else out. But anyways, you real sexy tho. We should get up sometime...

Me: Ummmm... No.

Fuck you Broke ass Nigga..... You just wasted my time and cuz time is money, you just cost me dollars.... I truly hate it when my time is fucked with.

Money talks, Bullshit walks... and yo bitch ass should gets to steppin... Sorry piece of shit.

*************************************************************************************
Me and my roomie have waaaay too much fun together:
I yell out, "Yo roomie! 1988! Is that legal?
And He goes, "You got a problem."
And I go, "It's a sickness son!"

*************************************************************************************
How to speak "Passive Aggressive Netta"

If I say "It's whatev"

I mean: I don't give a fuck... Bout a half step from fuck you...

If I say any of the following "I'm good...", "You good...", "We good...."

I mean: We most def ain't fuckin good. We is in fact beefin. Fuck you.

If I say "Naw, it's cool..."

I mean: It sho aint cool. Fuck you

If I say, "No judgment"

I mean: I am judging you.. And I'm saying no judgement to throw you off from the fact that I'm judgin you

If I say "Do you....."

I mean: Oh fuck! I'm heated... So heated that I would recommend that you do you because I'm bout to get the breaks beat off this motherfucker, so you should make an active effort to fuck as many chickenheads as you can book in an evening cuz I have decade old dick scattered all over dc.

If I say "It don't matter..."

I mean: It do and you need to commence in fixin it ASaP
*************************************************************************************

Im gonna try to start writing shorter blogs more often. Im sleepy. The end.

You should totally fuck more people....

2009-05-16T16:50:00.000-07:00

So, while in the talks for monogamy, this open relationship shit keeps coming up. Let me say this: stating that you are being monogamous because you love someone and want to protect that love is a crock of shit. Cuz if you "Love" someone, you would want them to be happy and honestly, sometimes, for someone to be happy, they need to fuck other people....

One of my personal faves, Oh So Sexy, just got out of a relationship type thing... But while in this relationship type thing, he and I still pursued carnal pleasure for one main reason : the girl was nice but she wasn't bringin it in the bedroom... And you can be the nicest bitch in the world but if you can't clench yo pussy muscles...He just might stray. And honestly I'm glad they broke up,, cuz that guilt was puttin a damper on "that work".... Damn Catholicism

But we got engrossed in a conversation about what you can do when your mate aint bringin it in the bed but you still want to stay monogamous:

Teach em.

You can teach em. But keep in mind... Iffin you teach em, you get no more surprises in the bedroom, and surprises are the best shit about the grownup dance. Plus, if they do come home with a new trick, your first response is gonna be "Fuck you learn that new shit from? Who you fuckin?"
Send em off in the world to fuck more people....

But keep in mind, when they come back, you bound to be suspect and heated bout they new freak skillset. Where the fuck they been? And who they learn that freak shit from? Ron Jeremy?

One way or the other, you gonna end up heated. My advice to the world.... Fuck more people and keep your number a secret... Under punishment of death... Cuz he may love the way you suck his balls, but he sure don't wanna know where you learned that shit.

Deez Hoes is Gods Gift Like Christmas

2009-05-05T15:29:00.000-07:00

Tuesday afternoon, I could not have felt more Charlie Brown. I had this plan about how I was going to go home before I picked him up... Get my car, Get SUPER CUTE and then whisk him away. Everytime I tried to leave work... No Go. Something else popped up.

His bus got in at 7:30 and I left work at 7:10. So I get to Chinatown and am trying to find the Megabus stop... Which I can't. We finally connect via text and he says he is inside the Starbucks. So I walk over and look in the window and lo and behold, there sits my Prince. Big cornball ass smiles, one of those long lingering hugs and an assessment of his hunger level and we are off, hand in hand, headed to Mai Thai, with me explaining the whole time how I had planned to get cute and all....

Food at Mai Thai was ok. Convo was on point. Flirtatious glance across the table were great. Snap up a cab after dinner and go home to some wine and relaxation.

I am not going to talk about the bizness... cuz it ain't none yall business... cept to say, shit is straight and I was thus pleased...

Talked, laughed, kissed and held hands and all that type gay shit. It was nice. He is nice. I was quite sad to see him go Thursday. Quite sad.

Now, negotiations are currently in the works for monogamy. But yall know, I dont believe in Puttin the Pussy on Layaway, so until he says those magic ass words... I gotta do me, tho I am in the process of Closeouts. Yall know "Oh So Sexy" is here.

Q: Do I feel guitly?
A: A lil bit. Dude is just bout perfect... I'd totally carry a fetus for him.

Q: Would I regret not smashin (specially if there was a breakdown in negotiations and we hit an impasse and ceased negotiations)?

A: Hells yeah...

Its summer and I swear to you, these dudes are hoes. I feel like Tyrone Biggums at a 5 O'clock free crack giveaway.... I be running around like "THESE DUDES IS GIVING AWAY FREE DICK!!!

Now, I know I aint shit. I am an asshole.

I've messed with other peoples men before.

If I don't know you, and your man's a hoe... Well, Deez Hoes is God's gift like Christmas. Me not smashing aint gonna make him not a hoe. Like Mob Deep says, "A Hoe's gonna be a hoe." You can't wife these hoes. You can't cuff these hoes. Let hoes roam, Dammit.

Additionally, if you think I fucked ya man:

A) You might be right, and

B) You better never step to me with that shit. Holla at ya hoe ass man.

You and I ain't got no rings, no contracts. But when you enter into a relationship with someone, that serves as a contract betwixt the two of you that he won't put his dick in nothin but you. Lodge a complaint with your relationship union delegate if it pleases ye.
I don't like turnin down shit I want.

I just dont. Never have. Never will. It's bound to be my downfall, but fuck it. The Devil You Know is better than the Devil that you don't know.
I sometimes forget shit I shouldn't.

My homegirl turned to me the other day and said "Remember that time we fucked?"

SAY WHAT? Not at all. Tho she does have a fatty and is quite a bit fine so I ain't super surprised but it'd be nice to remember. I killed alot of brain cells over the years. My bad
All in all, I feel like this:

Me amending my sexual activity because the verbal intent to get very serious in the future is put out there is like me being an alcoholic and someone saying "Ayo. Quit drinkin. We fittin to go to AA real soon" and then I quit drinking.

What if we never make it to AA? What then? I coulda been drinkin that whole motherfuckin time. Holla at me when you outside wit tha car ready. How bout you do that? Til then....

DEEZ Hoes Is God's Gift Like Christmas.

Loves great and all but I'm a dog. So til shit gets EXTRA Official, I'm a free agent. Real Talk.

Ps: This is what I'm watching right now. Ain't half bad.

Murphy's Law of Netta and the Penile Hierarchy

2009-05-04T06:11:00.000-07:00

I have been trying to get all the events of the last two weeks in order in my head.

My bathroom is once again broken and I am home awaiting the Roto-Rooter. No tub, toilet or sink. So I decided that I should stop being a lazy cunt and write some shit down.

I've been wandering the world attached at the hip to my BlackBerry and taking full advantage of BlackBerry Messaging. I am indulging in a heavy interest/flirtation through BlackBerry Messenger and He is coming tomorrow to visit. I am ecstatic.

Recently there has been alot of tossing around of the "M" word. We have entered into preliminary talks about "Monogamy". Not a relationship.... Just Monogamy.

The odd thing is that I just got engrossed in a convo tonight that revolved around the topic of Monogamy and the conclusion that I came to was thus: It is cock blocking. Socially justified and sanctioned but cock blocking none the less. The sad thing is: I would give up other penis for Him. He is special. To me... in general and to me.

Now, please note: I do not differentiate between Monogamy and a Relationship. Cuz if we're monogamous, I can't fuck other people and if we're in a relationship, I still can't fuck other people.... Relationships just involve more talk about feelings and an eventual obligatory meeting of the parents. Ehhh... same shit, different words. All in all, My vagina isn't allowed to wander...

Now, while single, I had a hierarchy of penis.

It went as such:
Plan A trumps all other locals but I gave him Sundays so that weren't really an issue.

Tuesdays were split between "Youngin" and "Lucky". I'd given "Lucky" Mondays but he was grumpy so I determined that He should get every other Tuesday because realistically Youngin lived far and probably wouldn't make it every Tuesday anyway. But as the Hierarchy goes Tuesdays belong to "Youngin", so if he calls, he trumps Lucky.

Out of towners trump everyone, which means that Oh So Sexy gets preference because he is trekking from the motherfucking Midwest and schedules appointments sometimes a month in advance...

But if "Monogamous Non-Monogamy" is to pop off, I must commence with "The Closeout Procedures" cuz apparently I run my sex life like a business.

I learned the importance of "The Closeout" last time I went monogamous...

Essentially I'd met a guy and I just disappeared. Once the relationship was over, I'd effectively alienated myself from all of my regulars. I don't believe in burning bridges, but that lack of communication on my part had set up a situation where I'd managed to fuck myself over and effectively keep myself from getting fucked. Amends were made but I learned a valuable lesson. Closeouts are essential cuz ain't shit guaranteed...

Now, I say my goodbyes in a proper fashion. Glass of wine, a nice talk, and one for the road....

There is the "Long Closeout" which involves saying goodbye to both the major and the minor players. It has been requested that if I must do a closeout, I do a "Short Closeout". A "Short Closeout" involves Major Players, Out of Towners and Grade A Penis only.... So is life. One more for the road.

I have prepped as much as I can for His arrival.

Facial - Which was totally like going to the dentist for your face. It hurts but afterward you're so glad you did it. I'm going to go once a month from now on.

Clean House - took a lil work but it looks jie decent up in here.

Food and wine procured - For the intoxications and the full uppedness.

Sex with anyone else postponed until after this visit....

I am nervous like a virgin and very glad I am not a virgin. I want to knock this one out of the park and tho I got a decent skill set, I still worry that I might not be doin enough. Its cool tho...

I am now drunkish... and tired. Everything is in place and it's perfect enough... Which means that the Murphy's law of Netta's world means that he won't make it or some ole bullshit will pop off.

Here's to hoping that he is packing that Trey Songz type shit rather than that ole Bobby Valentino dick.... Here's to gettin turned out...

GET YO FREE MUSIC HERE

2009-05-01T16:04:00.000-07:00

And because I been such a lazy cunt, here: Get yo free music on. My bad yall

DJ XKLUSIVE MIX 1

DJ XKLUSIVE MIX 2

Bear with me.

2009-04-27T10:47:00.000-07:00

I been on some other shit lately. Yeah, yeah yeah. I know I owe yall a blog but my head has been wrapped up in "Him" and between the late night convos, the early Am work and late night club shit (Not to mention the slew of out of town house guests), my ass has been done. Not to mention my shower and toilet were broken... I dont even want to talk about it.

He is coming to visit next week. I am ecstatic. Making sure everything is on point is exhausting. Seriously. This random guy asked me what I look for in a man, and my answer was : "Hard working, honest, loyal, devout, has integrity, slangs good pipe and has a mean head game..."

Thats all I need. So if the last two are on point... Tequila fueled vegas wedding... All day. I have a shitload of stuff I want to write about but I need to have some down time to write it. Give me time. Give me time. I could push out crap, but I'd rather give you the bizness... you know?

I have chest flutters. He makes me wanna lay around burning candles, cookin shit and listening to Neosoul. Yall know I love likin people....

A lil bit smiley, alil bit lovey dovey and shit....

2009-04-24T22:35:00.000-07:00

It's funny as shit when you talkin to somebody and every song you hear sounds like the epitome of what tha fuck is up.... I'm a slight bit open. LLS. fuck. Grinning from ear to ear.... He make me real happy like.

I wasn't letting nuttin fuck up my day today. I been on str8 cloud nine. I looooooovvvveee liking someone. The best feeling. Every time some shit popped up and tried to fuck up my day... I said lata for that and sent him a Blackberry Message. Smiley goofy dumb greasy wide open smile.... :D

Free ill ass download.

2009-04-24T20:09:00.000-07:00

I got bored with Mp3 player and I really needed some fuckin music. Bad. Then I came across this Damn Late Night Creep Mix. Click anywhere on this paragraph to get this junt. Really. It is quite ill. I would post the play list but that always seems to get the blog pulled by google. Its a bunch of hot shit. Basically 3 Cds worth of hot shit.

GET IT!!!

And life progresses onward.... and toward Shoes.

2009-04-23T11:23:00.001-07:00

I have been working my ass off lately. Work, work, work... no play.

Between the 9 to 6 and the club door and the almost fainty spell I had on the metro the other day plus the "til 2 or 3 am" phone calls wit tha Brooklyn Boy...

Hot damn a bitch is tired. And sad part about it all is, my stomachs been bothering me, my head has felt funny and when I told folks I didn't feel good, at least 3 people asked me if I was pregnant. How tha fuck Imma be pregnant and I just dropped 3 lbs? But that shit made me paranoid as fuck anyway so We tested.

TEST SAYSSSSS:

Please peep the digital magic

I'm paranoid like that. Plus a toddler blew a kiss at me and I took it as the curse of death. and inevitably, the minute after you take the test, period comes. I do love me some periods tho.

I can't help that I'm a weirdo. I was talking to this random guy and he was real funny about his housing situation and letting me see his crib.

Something about a lot of messy roommates, but I jump straight to conclusion Number 1, which in my book is : You have a wife and 3 kids stashed in yo house and that's why I can't see it and therefore you are done.

Wrap it up, keep it moving. I got enough of my own issues. I ain't got time for house hangups too.

Any fuckin who. While I was at CVS gettin this fancy test, I saw this shit:

32 dollars and you'll never be embarrassed on the Maury show again.

Technology is awesome. Imma sleep my ass of tonight tho. Yummy late night phone calls and shit are cool and all but I need rest.

Imma get me a rest this weekend too. And since I ain't pregnant and therefore don't gotta go abortin shit... Imma go get me some ridiculously expensive shoes because:

Shoes are a necessity.
No shirt, no shoes, no service.
&
Like, you need shoes. Fo yo feet cuz it gets cold and there's glass in the street and without shoes you need way more tetanus shots.

Not to mention that...
People marched and protested so that I could have the right to work and vote so that I could be financially independant and spend my money as I see fit. Therefore you cannot judge me for my shoe habit. Woman's Suffrage says so.

I work and I am woman. Hear me roar and watch me buy shoes and get a facial Saturday.

Yves Saint Laurent Lola Platform

Fuck That Hoe Shit! (Doo Doo on haters.)

2009-04-21T11:38:00.000-07:00

Just came from the new free shrinkman. It's a slight pain in my ass to have to explain all about myself, all over again. We be tryin to figure out random shit like "Why do people be hittin me up for advice on relationships when I have the worst taste in men? Is it because I know how to recognize the bad ones? Hmmmm?" Fucks it.

I woke up yesterday mornin, real peppy like. I'd spent the night before talking to a guy that my friend suggested I might click with and lo and behold, E is smart cuz we did jie click. Talked for almost 2 hrs and it was nice. Real nice.

So I was pretty fuckin pleased wakin up this morning until I hear this shit on the radio.

Random ass commercial with a woman saying "Just cuz I'm living with HIV doesn't mean I have to live in fear."

Come tha fuck on DAWG!!!! It's 8am on a Tuesday,!!!! Are you trying to blow my whole fuckin day? Damn!

Go to work and get it poppin. Got a package midday. Let me explain how lazy I am.

I woke up last Saturday and decided I wanted diamonds but I really didnt want to have to leave my bed. So I roll my ass over and go on Zales and check out my 4 C's (Cut, Color, Clarity, and Carat). Then I order some diamond Earrings. I'm a Bamma. But they came and they look hot. Gotta spoil yourself sometimes. Beats waitin for someone else to do it.

You Love me Cuz I got my OWWWWNNN...

Got home, put in my earrings, talked to the new guy and worked out. This would have actually went up yesterday had I not stayed on the phone til 2am talking to him. He be funny but he live in Brooklyn. Damn imports. So now my sorry ass all up on Facebook starin real hard, tryin to figure out if he's packin. Me thinks he might be. I'm a dawg. What can I say?

Workouts are hella important. At this point, I'm fighting time, gravity, lifestyle and biological predisposition to weight gain. So I kick it like Tai Bo. Thank god for Crunches. Thank god.

Rannnndoms

You know you fuckin up:
If you get your heart broken (ie. you cryin and shit) 3 times a year or more....you fuckin up.

If you let the same nigga break yo heart 3 times or more... Lmao you definitely Fucking up.You should be at least reticent at this point.

If you sweatin a dude that kicked you to the curb... You fuckin up.

If you settle for a niggas heart without his fidelity, talkin bout how he knows where home is.... You fuckin up.

I reserve the right to say this shit cuz I have fucked up in all the above scenarios...
Ignant Shit I said recently:

"It may make me a dog but nothings better than dick cept new dick. It just aint...."

"I'd totally wife him, if he wasn't a hoe. I really would...."

"I like this hat. It makes a statement. It says "I own a hat". Yeah."

Post Cocktails: "Just because I cannot write well does not mean that I can't read or drive...."

"Fuck that Hoe shit"
Why is it that men seem to have more sexual stamina in the summer? Its hot and it just aint fair...
Peep my new fave movie: State Property 2
The more I think about it, the less I want kids.

Easter Sunday, I was witness to an 11 year old at church in a drop waist dress with a full face of makeup. No bueno.
Heard it all before

I used to bump this song all the time in College. Shit. Still do. Benefit of the doubt...

This why Mami don't neva give nobody tha benefit of the doubt... I'll give you doubt.. but ain't no benefit in that. If it smell funny, it tends to be bullshit...
If you annoy me, I will delete you out my phone. That's not crazy. That's Self preservation.
If you hollarin at somebody and the first 3 months are difficult, run. Life's too short and them first 3 months supposed to be rainbows and puppies and cupcakes. If it's mad work in the first 3 months, fuck that shit gonna look like in 3 years. bullshit.
Where tha Lumberjacks at? Wit tha plaid and tha beards and shit?

Off to Kstreeeeet.

Me thinks I just might be ready

2009-04-20T21:35:00.000-07:00

Sometime close to September, I realized that I wasn't ready for a relationship. It struck me in the way that most things due. Out of the blue, middle of the day, clear as anything I'd ever known before. I had some growing to do.

I needed to learn me some patience. And so it began, like many things do. Decidely, definitively, and suddenly. I decided to grow something. Because you can't force a plant. You can't manipulate it. It grows at its own pace. So I planted. I planted with the knowledge that when these plants bloomed, I'd be ready. I'd bide my time and nurture these plants and when they are done, it will be time.

This is the product of my work. This is what I grewd.

They are Morning Glories. They bloom in the die and then die. 1 day with them and it's over. All that work for a burst of color and then it's gone. Kinda like love. Kinda like life. Poetic I guess. Fucks it. I'm Ready.

Wrote a blog about it... Like to hear it? Here it go. (Dick is trading at an all time low).)

2009-04-13T12:04:00.001-07:00

We are officially private. It has been a journey and you guys stuck with me.

This invite shit is a trip. I emailed my entire gmail account and got some interesting responses.

Like the one guy who emailed me and said "I was reading your blog...I remember when we used to get it on...you words were making me think back"

He and I never fucked. Hand to god. I actually had no idea who he was.... Then he proceeded to hit on me. Now, lets slow our roll.

First off, you cant even figure out if we fucked or not.... so you might be a hoe.
Second, you apparently have 3 kids. Now, I dont mind kids, cuz it means i dont have to have em... but damn. 3?
1. So I ask if he'd been married... Nope.
2. Well, how old are these kids? 10, 4 and 3...
3. Are they by the same woman? Nope.
  (4 and 3 are kinda close together... Hmmm, I sense some overlap)
  Strike three... and then some
Apparently you hate condoms... ALOT. You are 28 with 3 kids. Between your work, your 3 kids, your 3 baby's mother and the side hoeing you do (Condomless, i might add), you have no time for me... None at all... so no thanks.
He tried to let me know that it was not right to just eliminate him off bat cuz he had 3 kids... Yes. Yes it is. I want no parts of that.
Then he asked me where that left us... Right where we started at BewBew... Nowhere.

My schedule is full anyway. It looks something like this:
Sunday : Plan A
Monday : Work and "Lucky"
Tuesday : Work and "The 22 year old"
Wednesday : Work and the door at K st.
Thursday : Work and date night...
Friday : Work and the door at Indulj
Saturday : Sleep (or an ass early hair appt.) and hopefully more sleep.

Things have shifted as of last night.

First off, cuz I'm just plain tired.
By the time Tuesday comes around, I am annoyed and sleepy and desensitized to the joys of penis...
I got a late night text that pleasantly surprised me.

Some of you who actually know me remember Muppet. Muppet is fun, funny and cute.

I wrote Muppet off due to schedule conflicts. He worked alot and shit just didn't coincide....

So I did as I do and I deleted his number. This is commmonplace to me. I deleted 5 numbers this weekend. The only numbers I absolutely keep are the crazies, like Bail & my exes, so when they call, i can be sure not to answer. Ever.

So when I got a text late at night that said "Hey" followed by a "You drunk text me once so back @ u" from a mystery number, I called it.

I called it hoping to:

Hit voicemail, so that I could discern who's number it was without sounding like an asshole.

or
Get someone on the phone and then call their bluff about this supposed drunk text that I'd sent previously (buying me enough time to figure out who's voice it was and still managing not to sound like an asshole).

I accomplished neither of these.
Me: I never drunk texted you...
Muppet: Yeah you did...
Me: Oh. My bad. What you doing
Muppet: Driving.
Me: Oh. How's that goin?
Muppet: Good.
Me: One more question. I'm an asshole. Who is this?
Muppet: Damn it's like that.

Yup. Then we talked for an hour.

About what happened. About why we stopped talking...

Part of the problem being the DRAMA with my ex.

I really didn't want to address this til I went private.... About two weeks ago, I got a late night friend request from my ex. Amusing since during our last convo, I accused him of maliciously attempting to infect people with HIV and he told me not to contact him, blah blah blah....

Don't you love the expert like redacting of his name for legal purposes?.

Hilarious. What about your baby? And your baby mama? Who loves you with her whole pregnant ass heart?

And then I realized why. I privated my facebook. My shit is shutdown. You can't even see who my friends are if we aint people, you can't see not a damn thing.... Which leads me to believe that you done been HIV stalking my behind fo a motherfuckin minute.

The perplexing part to me is baby mama....

I can do a three month love thing. 3 months... I heart you... You heart me... Good shit. But that shit fluke out after month 3.... Done. Now say over the course of those 3 months we made a baby. If we beefin after 3 months, I'm abortin yo shit.

Specially these cheatin ass mofos. How Imma stay in a lie witchu? You lyin like you faithful and I'm lyin like I believe your ass. Lately alotta females be makin me ill. Real ill. You know a nigga do you dirty, lie in your face, smile at you and then spread dick to the masses? This shit is what is spreading HIV. It aint drugs or downlow nuthin. Denial is the number one cause of shit.

Anywho....He and I discussed how we should see each other on Saturdays now that he's free that night.

So now, Saturday through Tuesday is booked. Choices must be made. And I believe strongly in dick diversity.

In college my roster looked like this:
Barry - Basketball player. Not the sharpest crayon in the box but very sweet. Tall, light skinned, Athletic Grown man build straight out of NC, complete with the loveable accent.

Angry - A lil bit shorter than me. Navy man. Built. Smart and funny from DC. Brown skinned.

The Bmore Bamma - Colby from Baltimore. Sorter than me, Runners build. Smart and funny. Brown skinned.

Actor boy - From Chicago. Shorter than me. Light skinned. Drama guy. Lots of acting and plays and shit.

And last but not least....

Rich guy - ATL in origin. Tall and dark skinned, very smart, funny. Athletic.

Diversity at its finest.

Right now I have a surplus and the Penile Dow is Down....

Dick is trading at an all time low. Blame it on the Alcohol or Blame it on Summer or Blame it on man whoredom. Shit, You can even blame it on the rain if you want.

So here is the rundown:

Plan A - Tall, light skinned, intelligent, funny 25 - 30 age range, and indispensible to me. (tho I drift and come back from time to time)
Lucky - 20-25. Football physique, tall, a lil darker than Plan A, amusing tho argumentative. His skill set is good but it ain't nothing I aint seen before
The 22 Year old - is adorable and with these abs...

He's a keeper. Plus he has my 3 E's and a solid skill set.
Moooopet - Tall brown skinned, thin athletic physique. 25 - 30 age range. Smart, Funny and endearing.... Great skill set providing wit multiple.... Things. And by things I mean orgasms...

I was gonna shift Monday to Tuesday and Tuesday to Saturday but as of last night... Saturday is taken. (Doesn't this feel like one of those LSAT logic problems...)

I'm tired. And I want a night for me. Plus I want to sleep. And study. These Gre words aint no joke.

It's like one of those VH1 dating shows. Someone bout to get eliminated. I know who. Can you guess?

(HINT: Right now, I have a bit of redundancy. Frat redundacy. Occupational redundancy. Age redundancy.... Boooo. If you only bring things to the table that other people are bringing, you might wanna just sit yo ass down and stay at home.)

It feels like them Sesame Street Junts:

I will trim my schedule but keep it diverse enough to keep my interest. With a touch of conflict. (To be Continued....)

Possibly the Gayest shit I ever wrote. (ever)

2009-04-10T17:29:00.000-07:00

Having an open blog has been one of the more rewarding experiences of my life. Transparency with myself and others has probably saved me years of therapy bills and has served as a healthy method of expression.

But I'm reaching a time in my life when I need to get alil more private. Hence the blog is going private.

It is crazy touching that 80 some odd people have requested access to my blog and I relish the opportunity to be even more candid than before in regards to my life. Being guarded from random eyes, there will most definitely be more kissing, way more telling and possibly some indecent photos....

There are 100 spots available.... So says blogspot. I always love getting new readers, so if you have a friend whom you think might enjoy my shit, just have em email (I have a plan for circumstances to accommodate more than 100 people if necessary).

This has definitely been a roller coaster ride and I wont be posting another blog until this is private... But I will work hard to make the next one OFF THE FUCKIN CHAIN!
Thanks. Love always JSKITTLE!!!

If you don't email me, you wont get to read my blog no mo....

2009-04-08T08:38:00.000-07:00

Yes, I know. I am beating you over the head with this news. Sorry.

This blog is going private on the 15th.

If you want to continue to be able to read this, you need to email me at netta138@gmail.com so that I can add you to the invite list. There are 100 total spots available.

Feel free to watch this video to know more about this privacy shit...

New DJ Xklusive mix.

2009-04-07T06:10:00.000-07:00

DJ Xklusive has a new mix up. Please check it out. Go to http://djxklusive.blogspot.com for downloads.

Thanks!

The Mrs. Robinson Effect (It's a sickness)

2009-04-06T11:55:00.000-07:00

PLEASE NOTE

Imma go private. If you want to continue to be able to read this, you need to email me at netta138@gmail.com so that I can add you to the invite list.

This was possibly the longest, most sleep deprived weekend ever. Ever.

So, I head out to do my normal Friday gig. Standing at the front of the club, I take money. It is my job to take a cover charge from you. Normally this cover is roughly $10. I have never seen people so pissed about having to hand over $10. These people will later be seen in the club, waving around a bottle and singing the chorus to "Ballin!" as loud as possible. Boooooo.

I get home at 4 am from the club. 4 Fucking am. This is post "Tequila debacle" from Thursday. I was so very tired, it was ridiculous. I lay down and the next thing I know, its 7:30.

Saturday

Up I get and I trudge off to my hair appointment where I get fresh to death. Then I head to the mall for some kicks and lotion. Get my eyebrows done. Head back to Silver Spring and check in wit cuzzo. Then I head back home, intent on getting some rest.

Phone goes beep. It’s Shay inviting me to the Wizards game... Fuck it.. I head out, tired as shit.

Decided the following:

Caron Butler is Fine.
So is Dwayne Wade.

I drove her home and waited for my Saturday Night Jumpoff.

Now at this point, I can barely see straight. I was thinking about postponing but he promised to make it worth my while if I stayed up.

Just as I start to doze off, he calls. So I get my lazy ass out of bed and open the door.

Lately, I have been on this Mrs. Robinson Kick.

Something bout these damned youngins. Something about them.
He is 22 and ripped like shit. I had to ask him how many hours he spends on his abs. 1hr a day. 1 solid hour of making sure that each muscle on his chest is defined and rippled.

These damned youthes....

I must commend the skill set:

Massage was INSANE.
The one handed bra removal. Bravo sir. I commend thee. :D
Excellent head game.
Had my 3 E’s. Eager to please, Enthusiastic, and Energetic.
Not unlike Trey Songz, Youngin had that work….

This “No hair below the belt” Man phenomenon is a trip. I know why I keep my area neat. I like people to want to go down there for a taste. Its like a plate of food. A shitty lookin plate of food aint nuthin you want up in yo mouth. So I try to make it look as appetizing as possible. Perhaps they keep it hairless for that same reason. I would imagine that it would have unexpected benefits as well, like cutting down on cases of Crabs or something….

If I had to give him a grade…. Solid A. Honestly, I'm not sure what I expected but I know he delivered. Literally and figuratively. Sex truly is a matter of trajectory and getting it at just the right angle is perfection. He earned his spot and now Tuesdays are his.

I went to bed with a smile on my face.

Sunday

I woke up at fucking 8am. I knew I had to go into the office so I roll over and look at Youngin. He looked so peaceful that I wasn’t sure whether he was breathing or not. He looked really young and innocent.

I know he was 22 and all but he looked about 17 at that moment so I poked him in his chest to see if he was alive. I can't have dead minors in my bed. He was not in fact dead. I gave him a kiss and we got it in real quick.

It was humid as shit. AS SHIT. Its 8am.

There is some random guy on my couch asleep and I am all up in my bathroom, flat ironing my hair cuz it looks straight fucked up. That’s what I get for trying to be all cute and not wrappin my fuckin shit.

I have a strict "You break, you buy" policy when it comes to my hair. You can sweat it out but the minute that you hop out the poompoom you need to hand me 60 dollars. But because it was only partially his fault, I let it pass and take my ass workward.

Head off to work and realized that I was still fucking sick. I had a Cherry Blossom date so I do my work, submit my shit and head home and shower.

Hop on the metro, late as fuck. Wade thru family after family of unruly children til I get to my fucking destination and proceed with my dating.

Random conversation for hours amidst falling cherry blossoms. Quite nice.

We talked about:

Why I think contacts are a genetic lie.

Cuz if I meet you, and you need glasses but you’re wearing contacts, I think you have good vision when infact yo ass could be off that Mr. Magoo blindness. Next thing you know, we got 2 blind children. I like to know what I’m getting into when I look at you. Like my own personal Eugenics experiment.
I explained to him my theory about makin babies.

Like you need 3 things to make a baby. An egg, some sperm and a womb. I have 2 of these things. He only has one. Which makes me a majority stock holder in this situation, which kinda makes me “Tha Boss”.
We talked about the youths of the world, running around smoking crack with my tax dollars and sexually assaulting each other with broom sticks.
We talked about the phenomenon of hairless mandom.
I implied that he may have fucked a post operative transsexual (this made for awkward conversation)
We talked about having someone do a full split on a couch while hitting it from the back.
I explained that the only new things on the sex scene are the things that 14 yr olds have thought up, which are things I want no parts of. Like the Spiderman.
We walked to the Jefferson memorial and I told him that I thought Jefferson probably had that work. And Clinton. And probably Lincoln too. And maybe Carter.
We discussed the bad sex tips that guys got in middle school from each other, like “When you hit that back wall…. That when you getting it. Try and bust a hole in that junt.”

All in all it was a great date type thing. I headed home and missed catching up with Plan A because it was late and I was exhausted. Really fuckin exhausted.

It’s like I said to my homegirl “Life is too short not to spend it acquiring beautiful menssss!”

To which she replied “Lol. acquiring and at some point retaining”

And I said “lol. no. Not all of them are worth retaining. Some are just nice to look at. Like art in a museum. You go. You see. You leave. If you want, you go back later and see again. You could purchase, but sometimes the price you'd have to pay is too lofty...”

I like my men feisty. That Beyonce song that goes “You had me at hello.”

Naw son. You had me at “Fuck you”. If you can’t go tit for tat with me, stay yo punk ass at home.

I guess I’m always recruiting just to make sure I can stay interested or at the very least entertained.

Dating is like a game of Spades. Right now I have 3 and 2 possible. 2 strong possibles tho. But perhaps this whole “Mrs. Robinson” thing is getting alil out of hand.

So if you see me in the streets with an 18 year old… Someone please slap me. For my own good. Thanks in advance.

RANDOM ASS MIX!

2009-04-06T09:16:00.000-07:00

RANDOM ASS MIX!!!!
I'd list the tracks but itd probably violate somethin and get that junt deleted. Click anywhere to download.

DJ MANIFEST MIXTAPE DOWNLOAD LINKS

2009-04-04T15:29:00.000-07:00

DJ MANIFEST MIXTAPE DOWNLOAD LINKS.
Please feel free to scoot yo ass over there and get up on some free music.

http://www.djmanifest.ca/site/mixtapes.php