Biggums

This just makes me laugh... I really needed it today....

Reminds of a coworker. I mean she gotta be on that ish! She does things that are clearly indicative of a TV set stealing, dry skin scratching, completely irrational/unicorn spotting crackhead.

I regularly think to myself "What are you smoking, yo?"

I'm so glad, that I am a different person now and I no longer revert to my former hoodtastic, ranting, raving, cuss-you- three-ways-to-Sunday personality! She makes me wanna slap the ish out of her on the reg.

Ever had a coworker that just drives you to drank?

My neck and my back

Ouch! I have injured my back somehow... Get your mind out of the gutter! I have no idea how I injured it, it literally came outta nowhere Nasty McPervykins. I have iced it, heated it and acetominophened it to death. I even took a day off of work... but to no avail. I am still in considerable pain. So I am making the dreaded visit to the doctor. No, I do not like the doctor at all... they usually cannot give you a conclusive diagnosis but somehow they always want their fee in a conclusive rendering (i.e. cash, check or charge).

I hate the hurry up and wait of it all. I hate the smell (a dose of sickness with high notes of hand sanitizers and band-aids). I hate the lack of good reading literature (you're never gonna find the latest version of InStyle or Essence but they will inevitably have some ratty Good Housekeepings circa 2002). And last but not least, I hate the cacophony of chaps (read: kids) running around unsupervised, coughing, snotting, crying and whining all over the place.

However, after two days of back pain, I am willing to overlook my intense dislike for seeing the doctor in hopes getting temporary relief from this nagging pain until my body can heal itself. Yes, I seek the almighty muscle relaxer yall. Now before you go calling 1-800-Charter, I am simply stating that I already know that Dr. Homeslice will have limited guestimates (read: what you get paid over 100K to do on a daily basis) about my prognosis and will lean to my inifinite understanding. Anyway, we'll do the "Hey-little-angry-black-lady-what-happened-does-it-hurt-here-hmmm-let's see-I-don't-know-oh-well-I-gotta-hurry-up-here's-your-prescription-see-me-if-it-gets-any-worse" 10 minute doctor/patient dance.

So we're off to see the wizard, the wondeful wizard of...
muscle realxers! LOL!

You're Fired: TTYN

Well... we haven't gotten into my dating life as of yet but I think its abundantly obvious that I am single (see the title, you dolt!). Yes: fabulous, accomplished and fly but... still single in spite of all this raging fabulosity. (*Sings " I don;t think ya ready for this jelly..)


Anywho. I've been thinking I am sick of the roster. You know, the roster. It consists of the dudes that can't or won't make the crossover journey to BF. You remain in the gray area when it comes to defining your Somethingship. He's the guy you go to the movies with or calls you up a few times a week to check on you. He sends you lots of text messages peppered with lame-o smiley faces. These are the dudes that comprise the roster. If you could melt them all down like crayons you could make the perfect man. But alas my friends dating is so much more complicated than an elementary school art project.

So I think that I am going to disband the roster and sell off the members of my team (read: stop taking their calls/texts). I think I need to start anew because hey if none of them have crossed over to the motherland then just how beneficial are they anyway?

What sayeth ye?

Making the Band IV Finale

Let me start off my saying I know just how wack I am by watching this and my wackness is compounded by the fact that I am slightly emotionally vested in the Danity Kane drama. I mean you think I would have learned my lesson with the whole "Da Band" fiasco. I assure you those clowns are back in the hood wishing they could walk the bridge just one mo time to get Diddy's cheesecake. I heard Sarah got fat (I'm not hating ma, it happens to the best of us...) and maybe Bugs or whateva the other chick's name was, actually got a record deal (SIKE! Stop playin!)

So there's all this drama leading up to the "confrontation." They basically replay the bulk of the last show and then part two consists of Diddy pulling the remaining 3 girls back into his office and saying the problem was their's to deal with. Finally they bring Day 26 and Donny Klang (And the worst name ever award goes to...) out to tell their perspective. Those fake azz 112 ninjas say a whole bunch of nothing and Justin Timberfake looks pissed to be stuck on a stool in the back.

Then Diddy comes out via satellite and basically stumbles his way through this lame publicity stunt but he gets kudos for the "I heart Michelle" shirt. The (non-fired) girls come out looking all Carl Thomas (read: emotional). So apparently Diddy wasn't faking. The other black girl with the assymetrical joint is still out of DK and was a total no show. She gets props for maintaining some semblance of dignity after PDid played her face. Aubrey came out looking (forgive me Lord) bloated and high as the Empire State building. She rambles incoherently and gets slick with Diddy and he makes that useless waste of an hour of my life slightly entertaining by giving her an oral smackdown. (No not that kind... at least not anymore!)

So.... clearly there will be another Making the Band. The question is NOT will you watch, shoot quite a few of yall probably bought the CDs or at least downloaded "Damaged" off I-tunes (I admit it! That was my stone cold jam!) So somebody other than me is watching this ish. So fess up!

Bad Karma

Word life son... I must have really upset someone in my recent past. This weekend sucked monkey bizzalls. First my left brake light went out, then my right parking light. Admittedly the brake light had been out for about 3 weeks now but I digress...

OK, seriously, what do you want from me people? We're in a recession man!

So anyway, on Saturday night I was getting into my car and noticed that somehow my middle brake light was knocked out. I mean there was no red plastic cover or anything and the light was dangingly precariously inside the little hole.

Talked out p-ed off to the height of p-tivity? Man I could have Mike Tysoned somebody.

So I took it to get it fixed and say it with me people: 3 hundred and 50 muhfreakin dollars!!!! Did I mention that we are in a RECESSION?????

So getting to the topic of the post, I am must have done something awfully horrible to someone. Hey you, yeah you that I have so horribly wronged. I'm sorry Charlie Murphy! I'm sorry please take your backwoods, Creole voodoo off of me now. Mybad home skillet, my bad.

Next week's gotta be better or I'm packing my ish and googling "convents" on the Eastern seaboard.

BAN

As this is a family friendly blog, let me be delicate in how I describe this acronym... Hmmm, first word is a not-nice word, second word is a not nice word but lessser than the first and the last, lets say "ninja." (its a soothing alternative to other undesirable option... sorta like Spenda vs. Nutrasweet)A sweet friend of mine recently was exposed to an extreme case of this. She met said negro and they started dating. He told her he was separated. Long story short.. homeboy wasn't.

My questions is why? In the words of my Southern grandmother "what fa?" (translation: what for?) Why not man up and just say hey I'm a big fat married liar and I want you to unwillingly commit adultery with me. Yeah, I am NOT happy. I mean things are hard enough with the whole single, black, educated female ratio situation without folks getting greedy. If you have one at home stick with her and ride that thang till the wheels fall off.