Tuesday, February 28, 2006

"When they Play That New Jeezy All The Dope Boys Go Crazy..."

To all my ...Ain't Goldians, I am terribly sorry I didn't post on Monday as per the usual. Is that even a sentence? Laughing. I am so done right now. Aaaaaanywho, I wasn't home Monday night in order to post. As a matter of fact I recently made it home after an evening of hard partying with my shorty and his peoples. Two words: Easy...Jesus. Remind me to never do that again.
I figured out how to download ringtones on my phone. Ask me why I was doing that and I'll tell ya I have no idea. I already have to pay a $112.00 phone bill, so why am I adding to it, you know?
OH! Ya'll ain't never gonna believe who I saw in the street today. Remember my year in review post? Okay, you remember when I was talking about The Last Straw? The one right after my Lesbian Experience? Yeah him. Looked me dead in my eye on 125th street and expected me to come say something to him! I was pissed! Okay, that's a lie. I was speechless and motionless. Which, if you know me at all, is quite a feat. To get me to shut up? I must really have been floored. As if that weren't awkward enough, I was with my new shorty at the time and here's the kicker...The two of them are peoples. FATAL HEART ATTACK! You cannot make this kind of shit up, I swear. When I finally calmed down enough to get th red out of my eyes, I realized what a major blow I had dodged when he disappeared last year. For those of you that know the situation, you can just imagine how effed up my head was for the next hour or so. I mean, the sheer size of his balls to want to say something to me. If I had had a weapon on me, I'd be posting this from a cell somewhere you hear me?

Okay, ya'll are getting me sidetracked. On to Ain't Gold.

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Random Musings From A Newportless Mind

I know I have been posting rather sporadically lately, but that's because I haven't really been home much for the past few days. sexybxnigga, I will be calling you and RubbabandMan on three way to discuss the L situation. Speaking of which,

*News Flash*
Mr. PPV and I are over, so the folks who were still curious about that situation can breathe easy. :)
I have moved on. I can see the future and the future is named L.

I have business to handle this week, as I am going back to school very shortly to get them same damn six credits that have been the bane of my existence for bout eight months now. Yes, I know I know. Leave me. I'm getting to it. I have no choice. If I don't get them, my mother is going to sell the three hundred dollar stiletto boots she bought me last year and Lord knows I can't have that.

My ass is stressed again and I'm back on the Newports. I know, I know. So please don't just "happen to mention it" when you call me up. I went through a pack when I was out the other day, like my last name is chimney. Nasty nasty habit. But hell if I care, comprende?

Hoe Sit Down Award of the Week

I felt the need to post this so you too can be as nauseated as I was. My girlfriend was sending me pic of her favorite celeb couples and let me tell you, she is the biggest fan/advocate of the Mr. Star Jones-Reynolds SNAFU on the planet. This picture was taken on their vacation sometime last year. WTFAYG? Why the hell did he think that hair made a positive fashion statement? (Can you say bati boy)? You people are NOT going to look me in the eye and tell me that man is not gay. I was sad for her up until I remembered what a complete and total bitch she has become since she lost all that wight. I loved fat Star. She was real, down to earth, confident and had the attitude I could get down with. Now, she's just like all the other underweight broads on the planet - hungry and mad as hell. Hoe...sit...down...

Just Popping In To Say...

RIP Don Knotts 1925-2006

Knotts, 81, died Friday of pulmonary and respiratory complications at the University of California, Los Angeles Medical Center. He is best remembered for his portrayal of the bumbling Deputy Barney Fife on "The Andy Griffith Show".

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Tenancy Denied

As you all know, I have been suffering with the knowledge that my eldest brother is back home. If you've spoken to my via telephone, email, or IM, you know I refer to him as The Boarder. I am going to give you the rundown on exactly what's going on round here.
According to my mama, The Boarder and his wife got married too fast. She had just started getting herself together after falling out of favor with her family and he never had himself together at all. (Translation: no job, no car, neither a pot nor a window.) He just popped up one day and told us he was getting married. We didn't even know he was dating the girl, having met her once, briefly, several years earlier.
Anywho, skipping the useless droll, they began having problems some time in. Problems that caused them to split temporarily. She went home and so did he. Now, the plan was for him to get himself together enough to prove he could come home. She's taking care of all the things the man usually takes care of (when I say all the bills I do mean ALL) and the little things she asks for can't get done. I can't blame her because flip side of the game? He'd be cursing her ass out.
Now that he is back home, my life has become a miserable living hell. I never liked my brother, only loved him because my mother birthed him. I call that love out of default. When he moved out? Loved him to death. But Good Lord knows I can't live with him. Its just too difficult. He's hella annoying, loud, supa dupa obnxious, and doesn't believe in being wrong. He eats, sleeps, farts, and drinks, not necessarily in that order. And once again he is hanging over my shoulder trying to see what I'm doing so I will be cutting this post short...

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

...Ain't Gold (Part Twenty-Five)

Now that Stretch was dead, all was right with the world. Richard and Nicole moved back to New York. He moved her into Scarsdale, a two-floor, five bedroom dollhouse. He told her she could do whatever she wished with it, as they would be moving again after the wedding. He had moved his girl out of harm's way and now it was time to enjoy life the way he had before.
There were small complications with that plan.
"He wants to see you."
"Hmm." Rich pouted and spun his recliner in a circle before halting himself with his foot. "When'd you hear that?"
"He called, told me he wanted to talk. He heard what happened to Stretch, wants ya'll to come to some sort of agreement."
"What exactly does that mean?"
Mookie held his hands out. "Rich, that's all I know, bro."
He nodded. "I'll be there."
When Mookie left the room, door shut behind him, Rich picked up his phone and dialed a few numbers.
"You know the deal, babe."
He heard a button pressed.
"I need you tonight. I'll see you in an hour."

"Richard. Richard Knightley. And Shadow. What a lovely surprise. It is wonderful to see you again."
A sound like a cat hiss left Shadow's throat and Rich held out his hand to hold her back. That was the most emotion he had ever seen from her. "We're here to talk. She's here with me."
Maxell was bigger and older than Rich, but not faster and according to Rich, not smarter. They both hated each other with deep seated passion and as the seconds ticked by they became more and more aware of it.
Maxell showed them into the parlor of his massive home and seated them across from him as he sat at the piano bench. He played a few keys from Beethoven, then became bored and moved to the sofa. Sofia, his latest fling, brought in a tray of Scotch, smiled prettily and left. Maxell offered and Rich accepted. Shadow remained motionless and silent, glaring at the man like he had done her carnal wrong.
"Why are we here?"
Maxell, ever the drama king, poured his glass and lifted it, breathing deeply. "Why are we here? A pointed question. Involving many answers. Some simple, some not so. Some more important, others less."
He had always been long winded. Rich shifted, setting his glass down on the table in front of him, ready to set in for the long haul.

"We are here because we are-were friends. Unil you betrayed me the worst kind of way."
"And how did I do that?"
Angry veins begn to show themselves in Maxell's forehead. "When you murdered my flesh and blood. Not only my only daughter, whom my wife died giving birth to, but my firstborn, and heir to all I own. Did you think you could cut me out as well and take what was mine?"
Well, that was the plan, Rich thought. "Why would I do that?"
Maxell slammed his hand on the sofa arm. "Don't-tempt me! You've always been jealius of me. You've always wanted what I have. And you would kill me to get it."
"I've known you for ten years. Why? What makes you think I had anything to do with this?"
"When I was ending Prage's sorry life, yours was the only name he seemed to remember."
Maxell gave Rich a look that screamed I-am-about-to-jump-over-this-table-and-kick-your-ass. Rich politely shot one back that whispered, come-on-do-it-then. The two titans were locked in a power struggle that would only end in one of their deaths.
"I hear you've made plans."
"Have you?"
"Yes. Your fiancee, lovely looking girl. How is she these days?"
That struck a nerve inside Rich. "Why wouldn't she be fine?"
"Well, after one is mugged and assaulted in such a horrid manner I could only imagine she is carrying on with a great deal of stress. I even heard you had to move her out of the city." Maxell made a face of faux pity and sipped his scotch.
In just that short an amount of time Rich figured it out. Yes, it had been Stretch that caught Nikki in her hallway, but not of his own volition. Maxell had been pulling his strings. The simple fact that that kind of information was readily available to him made him nervous. But he played it off. Flashing an imperceptible glance at Shadow, he told her to get the hell out of here and find Nicole. Maxell knew what went on that night. If he knew the man as well as he thought he did, she was in grave danger.

Monday, February 20, 2006

I Seem To Have Forgotten...

In my rush to love you
In my longing for your heart
In my hurry to be yours
I forgot one small part

I kept thinking you were different
kept on saying "He's not the same"
Could've sworn you were a special kind
Kept my mind, soul, body sane

Made the mistake of trusting you
Believed you truly cared
Told me that I was your heart
And I fell for it, damn

It slipped my mind
I perished the thought
denied it could be true
Never thought for a second
The traitor would be you

Could've sworn you wouldn't be
like all the others before
Turned out you were
nothing special, nothing more

I was ready to let it go
Put it all in your hands
And then you did
those typical things...

I forgot you were a man

Part Two
(c) JackithaRippa

I Thought

I thought I was your heart
Apparently I was worng
I thought that what you thought of me
was powerful, was strong
I thought you had my back
Any time I needed you
I thought that when I needed
to hear you I'd get through
I thought you'd hold me down
Even when you were in a bind
I thought I had a
special place in your mind
I thought I was your reason,
your rhyme, your get by
I thought I was your shorty, your left side
I thought you truly loved me
And I could count on you
I thought you'd give a helping hand
Like friends are supposed to do
I thought you'd never be the one
to turn their back on me
I thought an awful lot of things
But now I know the real
The truth is I'm not as
important as you said
The truth is that you're very good
at messing with my head
The truth is that while
you say that your love is strong
I thought you were being truthful
and baby, I thought wrong

Part One
(c) JackithaRippa 2006

Saturday, February 18, 2006

Hoe Sit Down Award of the Week

The Hoe Sit Down Award of the Week goes to Karrine Steffans, once again. This in her second award, putting her at a tie with none other than the Bible's hype man, Kanye West. I was wondering how far she was going to take this I-needed-attention-so-I-became-a-prostitute-to-gain-acceptance-and-now-I'm-sorry thing and apparently she's taking it as far as she can.
Karrine will be conducting her College Lecture Tour, beginning in Little Rock, Arkansas. She is still in the process of her next book and has started on her third book, all while developling the film version of Confessions and several television projects. This month, Karrine will be in Miami filming an upcoming episode of Cristina for Univision. Karrine is also scheduled to tape an episode of the Montel Williams Show and a new entertainment magazine show for BET, name to be announced, launch expected in February. (source http://www.crunktastical.blogspot.com)
Yes. That is exactly who I want my child to aspire to be like. I want her telling my kid that there is more to life than dropping it like its hot. I am quite sure I'm finished with this broad now. She is profiting of having a fat mouth and it is a wonder there hasn't been a drive by as yet. So Hoe, sit it on down.

Friday, February 17, 2006

Jaheim Appreciation Post

Jaheim dropped his third LP titled Ghetto Classics, this past Valentine's Day. Did my happy ass go get it? Damn straight. Since I am forced to convince a certain hazel-eyed hater that he is the man, I am posting the lyrics to my favorite song by him and sticking my tongue out. (If only he weren't from Jersey...)

Heaven In My Eyes
Chillin' in the parking lot deep
Hit her we meet on 21st street what
You know how we loves when the weekend rolls around
That's how we put it down
Listen now
You on your way to your car
You don't like them thugs that be hangin in the bar
Lookin' so cool, but casual, fly, sexual, Miss,
You know I had to back this girl

When I look in your eyes, (I can see forever baby)
Can't believe you're mine, (Out of all the lovers in the world)
Let's just take our time, (Ain't no doubt, oohwee baby)
Your love's just like heaven in my eyes

It's hot on the boulevard,
Ice shinin' high,
In your baby blue drop,
Puttin' weight on them haters baby
You're the baddest girl on the block,
Had all the hustlas over from the park to the weed spot,
They don't know your style,
All the things I do girl I'll put in my while,
I'll be the man that will spoil you
With diamonds galore,
A ring with a stone,
Child in a home girl

When I look in your eyes, (No, I can see forever baby)
Can't believe you're mine, (Out of all the lovers in the world)
Let's just take our time, (Ain't no doubt, oohwee baby)
Your love's just like heaven in my eyes

Ain't no doubt about it
I just can't get around it
And every time I think about it
Your love is like heaven in my eyes

When I look in your eyes, (I can see forever baby)
Can't believe you're mine, (Out of all, out of all the lovers)
Let's just take our time, (Ain't no doubt, oohwee baby)
Your love's just like heaven in my eyes

Ain't no doubt about it
I just can't get around it
And every time I think about it
Your love's just like heaven in my eyes

It's much better with sound and all that. It's a sweet song and I am in love with it.

"Make It A Double"

As if the devastation caused in the Gulf Coast by last years plethora of hurricanes wasn't enough there is even more to come: the city won't be rebuilt in time to celebrate Mardi Gras. That hurts me. That's means there will be no new Girls Gone Wild tapes for me to watch, bored, at three in the morning. There will be nowhere to hold Spring Break. (I mean, of course, three thousand drunk white chicks are going to find a way to party regardless, but still, it sounds so much better when the guy says, "We're here in New Orleans, on Bourbon Street...")
Losing Bourbon Street was painful enough for me. I had always wanted to visit. So I'll have to rely on memories and stories of past visitors. I can't wait for the new and improved Street (cuz they BEST be puttin it back) so I can go get my Jim Beam on. (Big Easy folks, be forewarned, as soon as I am elected President, I will be renaming New Orleans the nation's capitol. They have drive through liquor stores. I repeat, they have drive through liquor stores.)
Speaking of which, I need to consult with my close personal friend and spiritual advisor, Johnnie, quite quickly. I have been dying to tell ya'll about what's going on in here with "The Boarder" as I've unnaffectionately named him. (The Brother Formerly Known As Flamingo). Everytime I log on, he's freaking standing over me like some goddamn accursed guardian angel. So I'll have to tip toe out here in the middle of the night and tell the whole morbid tale in sordid detail. I'm sure neither of those words belongs in that sentence, I just felt like adding them.
Before I go and have this chit chat with my new jumpoff, I have to tell all you ...Ain't Gold heads two things: 1) Look out for the finale, coming soon! and 2) I am making plans to adapt ...Ain't Gold into a full length novel. I will keep you posted.
Sidebar Question- sexybxnigga asked: Why you keep puttin them three dots before Ain't Gold? What is the point?
Sidebar Answer: ...Ain't Gold is the end of the popular phrase "all that glitters ain't gold." The story was originally titled All That Glitters. Upon logging on C2C one day a lil while ago, I saw that there was a published novel with the same title. Anyone who knows me knows how hard it is for me to do the same thing someone else is doing. (Yes, this is the person who spent twenty dollars on shades and threw them away when I saw a girl wearing the same pair. It is that serious.) Albeit this story was an idea long before she was a thought, I would hate to think both our stories are out there with the same names. Blech.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Say What?

I was having a conversation with my mother last night (before we had to go to work, and we're sitting around cracking up at three in the morning) and during the course of said conversation, we came across of bunch of words that have butchered and passed off as English. Here aer just a few of the words I don't ever want to hear mispronounced again:
Converse (also known as conversate): It's converse, people. Just because Biggie said it wrong doesn't mean we all have to walk the Path of Ignorance. Pick up a dictionary if you're feeling unsure. Conversate is not, never has been, never will be a word.
Library (also known as libary): You see that extra i in there? It's there for a reason. WTF is a libary? Once again, pick up a book and read. Come on! The ESL kids don't even get that wrong.
Complexion (also known as complexioned or complected): Here we go again. I think folks hear things the wrong way and rather than rock the boat, they go along with it. Guess what? Not me. You ain't gone have me sounding a damn fool. There are too many dictionary's on the planet to sound so ignant all the time.
February (also known as Feb'ary): In Spanish, its febrero, note the extra r. What would make it any different? Much like library, you cannot forget the extra letter.
There are plenty more like that, but its early in the morning, so I'm sure you get the point. I'll be back with my usual dose of hate later on. :)

Hola Guapo *wink*

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

From The Desk of the Love Hater...

Happy Valentine's Day, bitches. Yes, I do look at this as just another day. Yes, even though I do have a Valentine. And yes, I do think all holiday's are for kids.

I'm sorry, I didn't spoil the mood did I?

So anyway, in more important news, I watched Sling Blade tonight. Took me about twenty minutes to identify Billy Bob Thornton as the lead. I had a good feeling, then he looked down and I saw that hairline. Gave it away.

Jaheim's latest album dropped today. I am dropping hints to Malcolm like crazy, you feel me? I listened to Still Ghetto today, took it back years. So to all my benefactors, if you are reading, JAHEIM'S ALBUM DROPPED TODAY. DROP BY A BEST BUY AND CHARGE ME A LITTLE HAPPY.


50 Cent is scheduled to join Samuel L. Jackson on the cast of Home of the Brave, a war drama set in Iraq.
The cast also includes Jessica Biel, Eva Mendes, and Christina Ricci. Word is 50 will play one of three soldiers who struggle to readapt to everyday life following a long tour in Iraq. Sam Jackson will play a doctor who also struggles with his return to normalcy after the war
Brave marks Curtis "Interscope" Jackson's second motion picture. The Queens rapper starred in a semi autobiographical film, Get Rich Or Die Trying this past summer.

50 and Jackson began feuding briefly when the veteran actor turned down a part in the movie. Jackson has long voiced his displeasure for inexperienced rappers who take on lead movie roles. 50 responded, telling New York's Daily News, "I don't even see where Samuel fits into my life story anyway, unless he plays one of the crack heads." He added, "He was a crack head originally right? So I come from being a rapper, and he comes from being a crack head."

Am I the only one that finds this a little bit interesting? Just a wee bit? Is it really just me? This goes under the "Things That Make You Go Hmm" file. Beside this movie being the bootleg Manchurian Candidate, since when did Fiddy or (Sam Jackson for that matter) become a bonafide actor? I love him to pieces but umm...Hm..

...Ain't Gold (Part Twenty-Four)

"So when do we do this?"
Maxell stroked his clean shaven face. He was deep in thought, wondering how, oh how and more importantly, when he was going to get Rich back. He had an idea, a very good idea, deep in the back of his mind. He would need them to pay rapt attention and swear allegiance for it to work, but if and when they did he was more than certain it would work.
"I'm still thinking about that. He murdered both of my children without a second thought. And for what? To prove a fucking point? I want him to die with my face the last thing he sees. I want him to go to hell knowing that I sent him there. I want him defeated, betrayed, hurt," Maxell paused for emphasis, "broken."
He breathed the words savagely enough for the hair on both their necks to rise. They looked at one another, sure this was what they wanted, but unsure of Maxell's mental stability. They were standing in front of the second most powerful man in New York. He was counting on them to take Rich out.
And if he commanded, so it would be.

To get her mind off other things, Rich made Nicole start planning the wedding. The moment he made that decision he regretted it. She drove him wild talking about it. Since he wouldn't allow her to go back to her office in the city she took up all her time planning. It was the only thing she could do with any freedom. Her planning was bugging the hell out of him though.
“How about June?”
“Whatever you want, baby.”
Nicole say back on her thighs, her body covered in one of his oversize dress shirts. She looked tired but happy, like a kid that wanted to ride every attraction at Disney World. “Can you give me something, Rich?”
He looked up from his place on the couch where he sat cleaning his gun over the coffee table. “How about fall?”
Nicole bit the tip of the pen she was writing with. “Fall? You like that?”
He went back to his gun. “Sure. October sounds cool.” Nicole was happy that he helped make at least one decision. For the past three days, all she kept hearing was “Whatever you want, baby.” She looked in her daybook. “How about October 25th?”
He looked up. “I think that’s good.”
Nicole quietly went back to writing her beginning plans before she transferred them to the laptop Rich bought her. Rich was just going along with her because he really could not care less. Weddings were for women. As far as was concerned, the whole affair could be summed up as follows: give me a tux, give me a date and a time, give me the rings, and I’ll be there. He didn't want to deal with the intricate details. Like now.
“What kind of flowers do you like?”
He gestured with his full hands. “Baby, I don't like flowers. You like flowers.”
“I don't know what I should have.”
“Use your favorite flower.”
“Tiger lilies? They’re only a summer flower. They don't ship them after summer because it gets expensive.”
“So I’ll pay for them then,” he said.
“You will? Ooh, thank you baby.” She leaned back over her book. For the next hour, he watched as Nicole pulled out the calculator and took voracious notes, entering this, deleting that, trying to get the basics down. He was beginning to think his plan was backfiring. In his haste to get her mind off her family, he’d turned her into a Bridezilla. Now he had to get her mind off the wedding. He was horny, but every time he made an advance, she told him she was busy working.
After a while, Nicole went to start dinner. She left her notes there, and he waited a while before he flipped through them. One whole page was filled with things like Mrs. Nikki Knightley. Nicole Anisa Knightley. Mrs. Knightley. Mrs. Richard Knightley. Nicole Anisa Baisden-Knightley. Rich smiled. He was glad he made her feel like a schoolgirl. It meant he was doing something right. He walked over to the peek hole and watched her wash her hands and turn down one of the pots.
“Mrs. Nikki Knightley. I like that one best.”
Her head snapped up. “You went in my notebook?” She threw a dishtowel at him.
“It was already open. The breeze must have moved the pages over.”

“Ooh, I’ma get you, Rich. Watch.”
He was walking into the kitchen to get her back when his pager went off.
"Rich, we know where Stretch is."
Rich recognized the voice as belonging to Mookie. "Where?"
"Well, being as you're the only person that can fucking understand Shadow, you'll have to ask her."
Less than ten minutes later Rich was on his way out the door. He, Shadow, Mookie and Toots met at Rich's home in upstate New York. None of them had been back since the police closed their investigation into Prage's death. He knew Shadow was there, he could feel her. He motioned for the others to wait for him outside, then walked into his house alone.
As usual, Shadow resembled her name. He had to search for her for a moment. She sat in a chair in the corner of the room, in the dark, the only light coming from the cigar she smoked. He walked toward her, stopping at the edge of the darkness, speaking after a few moments of quiet had passed.
"Good to see you again."
He chuckled. "Have it your way. They say you know where Stretch is?"
She stood, at least he thought she did, as the lit end of the cigar suddenly jumped in the air. His assumption was confirmed when he heard her heels click toward him. She reached out her hand and revealed its contents. Black and whites, a familiar face...
"Where did you get these? How the hell did you get so close to him?" He flipped through the photos of Stretch, knowing she would not answer. In his search to look far and wide, Rich had neglected to look right under his own nose.
The man had been in his house.
"And he never saw you?"
The lit end of the cigar shook back and forth, indicating a no.
"How long was he in here?"
She lifted her hand.
"Five months?"
"Five days?"
A nod.
"Where is he now?"
The first sign of emotion Rich ever saw Shadow display was pulling itself across her face at that very moment. She had perfect teeth, he noticed. She seemed shy, bashful, to reveal what she knew.
"What? What's so funny? Where is he?" She walked away, a hand in her coat. Rich followed her as she kept up a brisk pace, all the way upstairs. Breathing sweet smelling smoke out of her nose, she opened a bathroom door and gestured with a flick of her head. Rich frowned and went inside.
Folding his arms and cocking his head to one side, Rich leaned back on his heels and admired Shadow's handiwork. She had made Stretch die a long and painful death and the bloody, grotesque grimace on his face, not unlike that of a haunted circus clown, proved it.
She had flayed him, opening his chest to the bone. His throat was cut from ear to ear and the tongue was pulled through the incision. Rich fought back a shudder as he duly noted that the mans' eyeballs were missing. Blood was all over the walls of the shower, some spray reaching as far as the door. The tub was soaked red. She must have changed, he thought. There wasn't a drop on her. Stretch had been there for a little while, the smell announced.
"Am I cleaning this up?"
She shook her head.
Rich nodded and reached into his pocket. His girl had never failed to disappoint him, and even now, she was still a master at what she did. He smiled as he brought of two very thick stacks of cash and handed them to her. She flipped through them and put them on her person, turning and fading into the recesses of the house.

Rich exited the house a few moments later, the only cheese smile present on his face. Mookie was shaking the flame out of a match and laughed aloud at the look pictured on his homeboy's face.
"She finally stop frontin and come off wit the pussy?"
Toots slapped him hard in the arm. "Well?"
"Stretch is dead. I can die happy," Rich said, unlocking his car and getting in.
Mookie smiled as well. You sure can.

Monday, February 13, 2006

Let Be Real

So I've been super slacking on the Let's Be Real posts lately, I know I have. Hey! You in the back! Put down the pitchfork and hear me out alright? I said I was getting myself together for the new schedule. So anyway, here you go.

Today's Topic: The "Wives"
My sister (whom I haven't seen in about a month) called me up a few nights ago fuming. Her new on campus boyfriend (who happens to be on the football team) is giving her a few problems. From what I could gather of her hysterical wailing and shouting, he apparently expects her to show up to all campus events by his side, a smile on her face, and interact with the other players and their girlfriends. To which I replied, "Well, honey, you're a footballl wife now."
Had she been in my line of sight, she would have undoubtedly thrown something at me. Being 2,000 miles away, all she could do was scream in my ear, "I hate you! You is such a bitch! Oh my God, just fucking forget it!"
I smiled, hit the End button and didn't move, waiting for her to call back. She did, calmly apologized and explained the situation. I repeated what I said earlier and she asked me to explain. I told her to look at the NFL or any other major sports affiliation for that matter. Once you become a successful athlete, you get married and the woman's job is to make you look good when he can't. She joins a long line of women before her who have pulled on the cape and donned the crown; thus becoming the "wife."

The Wives band together and form a clique, sometimes more high schoolish than others. Usually they are all friends and have much in common besides their husbands. They shop together, go out to eat, plan play dates, do each others nails and in extreme cases, can't stand each other. Your obligations are to be cool, show up to all his games, massage his kinks and sores, listen to the play-by play of the game, know something about the game and paint your face with the team colors. And have no problem doing it.
Her problem with this situation is that it is not football season anymore. Okay, that's fine, but it will be again soon. So prepare to strap on that apron wit a smile on your face and serve that football shaped ice cream cake. Cuz you're a "wife" now.

Sunday, February 12, 2006

Just Popping In To Say...

RIP Peter Benchley 1941-2006

Benchley, whose novel "Jaws" terrorized millions of swimmers even as the author himself became an advocate for the conservation of sharks, has died at age 65, his widow said Sunday.
Wendy Benchley, married to the author for 41 years, said he died Saturday night at their home in Princeton, N.J. The cause of death, she said, was idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis, a progressive and a fatal scarring of the lungs.

Looks like there aren't going to be any good books out for a while...We'll miss you...

The Trinity

If you are at all into reggae, head to your nearest record store and pick up Sean Paul's sophomore effort, The Trinity. It is worth every single cent and this is from a person who is Jamaican and doesn't like reggae. (Yes, laughing, its true, no its not an oxymoron.) The title track is about to be my new anthem.

Damn I pumped out a hella lot of posts tonight, huh?

Sidebar: I have a potential date this evening, if its not too snowy out, so I may not be able to post. If he bitches up and says its too snowy I'm going to bleed him like a stuck pig, you hear? Nah but staying in and watching a movie is cool too. He's got American Psycho :) so as soon as I see it I can post how it compares to the book.

Ok, night night.

Hoe Sit Down Award of the Week

I'm not sure even I can stomach this one...Boo Boo and them are gone hang this nigga in the backyard for this shit...

Cocky rap star Kanye West is calling for a revised edition of ‘The Bible’ because he thinks he should be a character in it. West feels sure he’d be “a griot’ (West African storyteller) in a modern Bible. He says, “I bring up historical subjects in a way that makes kids want to learn about them. I’m an inspirational speaker. I changed the sound of music more than one time, for all those reasons, I’d be a part of the Bible. I’m definitely in the history books already.”
In Related News: Kanye West had a secret weapon behind his 2005 chart hits. He took poetry lessons to hone his rapping skills. West admits he needed to fine-tune his spoken word skills and reached out for an expert to help him. He reveals, “I had a poetry instructor and I was like, ‘she is so much better than me at this,’ “If I could apply this, I could be like Bob Dylan, Bob Marley and Stevie Wonder, Prince and John Lennon.”
West is convinced his poetry lessons gave his hit “Gold Digger” a real kick. He adds, ‘Gold Digger’ is straight poetry. ‘Gold Digger’ is one of the biggest songs of our lifetime like ‘In Da Club’ and ‘When Doves Cry.’ Also, Kanye has big plans for 2006 and 2007 which include, co-writing a TV show, working with Steven Spielberg and buying a European castle to remodel.

***URGENT*** - I will not censor the following so if you are light of heart please turn away because I am about to get real ignant...
Hoe, sit the fuck down! How dare you try to defile the word of God with some bullshit like that? You see, there is a reason your bitch ass didn't die in that car accident, the Good Lord got a trick for your ass. I hope you do a show in the South real soon so the boys in the sheets can hold a picnic in your honor. Just who the fuck do you think you are? Seriously? Sit your ass down somewhere and contemplate life, you Louis wearing bitch.

(Source: panachereport.com)

American Psycho

So I was in Barnes and Noble last week with Mama and I've just been dying to read this book. I finally picked it up and I swear on the way home I kept looking in the bag to makes sure it was safe. I am so glad I did.
By far, one of the best books I have ever read in life. I am going to be on the lookout for the rest of his books as soon as I get back in the bookstore. Freakin awesome. It was disgustingly grotesque, yet at the same time virulently intriguing. (That's my new word. :) I wanted so much to push it away from me and scream Get Behind Me Satan! But I couldn't pry it away from my fingers. I'm more than sure a couple of those moves he stole from me...
It was horrifying and hysterical, and there are times I was on the train reading it where people would take one look at the cover and shake their heads like how can she laugh? Well, sarcasm is my favorite kind of humor and let me tell you there is a lot of it in there. It's an excellent book, a true masterpiece and I am sure I will be hard pressed to read something that good for years to come. (Mr. Patterson, this has nothing to do with our relationship. What we have no other book can put asunder. I will always love you, you will always be my favorite.)
And yes, it had something to do with the cover. I fell in love from the moment I first saw it. I love that cover. Trust me, the original was a total dud.

Oh, remind me to get Bonfire of the Vanities next time I'm in there...

From Hell

So I was watching that Jonny Depp flick last night...True story? I finally grew the cojones large enough to watch that movie by myself. I was still a kid when it came out so I was creeped when I first saw it and I guess that stuck. But last night I actually sat and watched it. Freakin awesome. And that Johnny Depp...Sigh.
Anywho, today had to be a day straight out of that movie. Worst mood ever. Which is not surprising. I went to the job today, someone has to be there on the weekends so the workers can finish renovating the building (yes, that week we got all that rain, damn skippy the whole building flooded so they had to rip the walls down and pull the floors up, albeit they waited until the shit was moldy to do so) so I didn't really do much but sleep until twelve.
I got home and all hell broke loose. Why is it that when someone says I'm going to the store, I'll be right back, everybody got something for you to get? If I hadn't said anything twelve seconds ago you still would have been sitting there thinking about how good that Sunkist tasted and whether or not you were going to get it until later because you don't want to miss any of the movie.
My original purpose was to hit the beauty supply store and get a ponytail and some gel. Yeah, uh, ain't happenin. Halfway to the front door my mama shouts out wait! I turn back and she done forgot what she wanted. 180, keep going. "Wait! Can you get a loaf of bread?" I give the ok. Almos there, the door-is-so-close..."Wait! Since you're going that way...(Let me just say that I hate this phrase. When translated it means-You're not doing anything special so you can do what I need you to do, because where you are going is blocks away from your actual destination but we're family, right?) can you get me a Philly cheesesteak?"
"Wait, yeah, get fries. And a Sprite please."
I can feel it. I have reached out and touched the door, I have my hands on the knob...Eternity is calling my name...
"Wait! Since you're going that way (here we go again) can you go to RiteAid and get an iron?"
"Aything else?"
"No that's it."
"Make sure it's teflon plated!"
So what should have been a five minute trip turned into a half hour excursion. I left out, big shades on, hat down to here, as usual, headed to Jimbo's to place my order. I do so, after three peopel step ahead of me like I'm not standing there. I guess they thought just because I was on the phone I couldn't tell they were skipping ahead of me in line. What the F*CK? I place my order and hop skip to the beauty supply.
When I get there I select my gel and make it to the front where I plan to ask for the hair I need. I reach into my back pocket for the twenty and therein lies my dilemma. I left the moeny in another pair of pants. I ask the clerk to hold onto the gel for me, I'll be right back. I race back up the sreet calling the house. Of course, no one answers. I really need this call to go trough. It does go through the minute I hit my stoop. As if I need someone to buzz me in, like I don't have a key. I'm freakin here now, you idiots.
On the phone, I drop a call (my bad Moni) and try to communicate to the fam just where the mony is located. I'm screaming, "it's in my jeans!" and they're like "no, it's not!" At this point I race my pissed behind upstairs only to realize they were right. As you can recall, I went to the laundromat the other day. The money was still in that sweater.
I'm burning. I run back downstairs, pick up my food, pick up my hair (Beverly Johnson Long and Straight, 1B) and jog across the street to RiteAid. The irons are 19.99, 17.99 and 29.99, respectively. I pick up the 17 dollar one, only for it to cost twenty B's regardless. That sales tax is a real bitch.
Finally, my ordeal is over. I wolfed that sandwich like there was no tomorrow and the itits set in rather quickly. New drink: Welch's Grape Soda. I gotta lay off it though and go back to the tea cuz that damn sugar is breaking my face out. Can't be stylin with bumps on your face. Or as Diddy says, "I ain't want no bumps on my face...I gotta moisterize my situation...preserve my sexy." Laugh out loud.

Friday, February 10, 2006

Pimp My Mind

I'm going to have an attitude later on, I will explain why then. I'm having a conversation with a friend and quite frankly - well, let me put it like this...You ever been having a conversation with someone and what they were telling you was pissing you off? Like, its not a negative talk but what they were telling you as like look here, why don't you shut the f*ck up because you are getting on my last goddamn nerve with that bullsh*t?
That's how I'm feeling right about now. I'm annoyed as hell you dig? So this is just going to be one of those quick posts, an update.

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

The 48th Annual Grammy Wrap Up

Hands down, the Best Dressed lady of the evening. And I dare you to disagree. Ms. Keys killed it when she stepped out in her Armani dress. To this day, no one can dress like she can. With that stud on her arm...wait...who is that? Could it be? Kerry Brothers? Her boyfriend? Other half of the CrucialKeys sound? Um, sexybxnigga, was it you that told me I was wrong? Yeah, bitch, run me my money!
Wow...So I thought I was in for a treat. Let me just say that if you missed the show, you didn't miss much. I took voracious...okay, not so much, I just like that word...notes, and wrote down what I thought were (give me a second to que up the guy with the booming voice) "Great Moments In Grammy History!"

The show opened with an interesting performance by the virtual group Gorrilaz, then found a way to segue into Madonna's latest effort "Hung Up." I don't care how long she sings or how skinny she gets (okay, that's a lie) I will always love the Material Girl. While they were dancing, I couldn't help wishing she would get into a suit and start singing Vogue...
I became particularly interested when Kelly Clarkson won her award for whatever it is that she won for. Gorgeous little Max Azria number she had going. I'll have a list of all winnings at the bottom of this post so you can knock yourselves out...
Directly behind her acceptance speech, (she is so cute when she cries) the boring ass Coldplay took the stage. Lord knows I can't stand them. They had one good song (Clocks) and it was all downhill after that. But hey, he's Mr. Gwenyth Paltrow, husband of the most boring woman on the planet, so what could I expect? Jee Priest, they were made for each other...
Yawn, yawn, yawn, then the John Legend performance. He sang "Ordinary People." Again. I swear to everything I love, if I ever hear that song again I will take a knife slowly to my throat. Everyone blamed the acoustics again this year, I blamed the voices. He always sounds like that. Like when he butchered that Luther song a few weeks ago. Long and short, I was not impressed. He looked good though...
Speaking of looking good, Sir Common...Mmm mmm mm mm mm. Looked like a tall ass vanilla milkshake in that suit he was wearing. Lawd have mercy, eat him up with a spoon...
The country segment came on and I changed the channel. I do not listen to that stuff. For lack of a better word. I went to the Ballroom Dance Competition on PBS and was jamming like my last name was Marley. So I don't know who/sang/wore what...
U2 performed "Vertigo" and I have to admit although they sounded kind of flat, I was still jumping around singing that song in my underwear. I love U2, they freakin rock. They ended up getting five Grammy's before the night went out, including Album of the Year. They also performed their song "One Love" with Mary. It sounded awful and I'm like Mary's second favorite fan. If she wears that damn braid one more time...
Shortly behind that, Kanye won Best Rap album. Maybe now he can shut the f*ck up, although we ALL know he was gunning for Album of the Year. IMO? He didn't deserve it. Beats were great but beats don't make an album. His effort was mediocre. And if Mariah got it I would have had a fatal heart attack, as you all know...
Kelly Clarkson came back and sang "Because of You." Proof that it was not the acoustics, as she sounded simply amazing. But then again, the former American Idol winner turned Grammy winner always does. She is an amazing talent and I hope she's around for a good long minute...
PaulMcCartney needs to retire. Just throw in the towel and go the way of all the other Beatles. Please, someone fax him the memo and tell him to let it go. No, we will not forgive you for last year's Superbowl Halftime performance...
Mariah Carey performed...I heard the opening piano keys of "We Belong Together" and put on the mute button. I saw her bring out the gospel choir for another set and turned it back up, hoping it was "There's Got To Be A Way" or something. When I realized it was another song (I don't remember if it was off Mimi because I burned that after I heard it) and she was also singing that badly, I put the mute back on and lifted my magazine. Time for you to retire, Ms. Piggy...
Teri Hatcher is one Desperate ass bitch. On and off the set. She needs a man, badly. Ryan Seacrest anyone?
More country...
Joss Stone, John legend and Van Hunt opened for the Sly and the Family Stone tribute. Is anyone else bored to tears by the mere thought of this chick? She tries so hard to be a soul singer and ends up sounding very annoying at best. I can't stand her. Fantasia barreled out there, belting notes like a true diva (f*ck ya'll, I woulda put them purple shoes on with that green dress too :)
Then there was Ciara. While I must admit that the dress she had on showcased the most gorgeous set of legs that side of the Mason-Dixon, she needs to reconcile with her hairdresser IMMEDIATELY. That foolishness on her head was a pure travesty, there's no other words to describe it. Bow Wow, drop shorty a buck or two to get that "Tighten'd Up." The hair was better than the voice though. She sounds like you sound when you swallow pool water and choke it up trying to tell the crowd around you that Tony pushed you into the pool and you can't swim and you're gonna kick his ass. She further proved the point that she can't freakin sing. Ashanti, look at that. There is someone who sounds worse than you...
Blah, blah, blah...Jay-Z and Linkin Park teamed up to perform the hit "Encore/Numb" from their platinum-plus smash-up album. They won a Grammy for that song. I must admit Mr. Jay looked awful fly in his suit last night. Lost a bit of weight though...
Speaking of weight, what in the blue f*ck happened to Beyonce? She looked horrendous last night. Yes, I do mean worse than usual. Where where the flowing thousand dollar curly weave tresses? The warm glow from the bucket of chicken she ate on the ride over? The bama speech before the show? She was looking positively svelte. I mean, straight up, ten punds, gone. Skinny. It was bad. I was this close to being worried. The best looker out of them (always has been) was Kelly. She looked amazing. Michelle looked like a welfare recipient, that hair!? I can't wait until they finally call it quits...
Gwen Stefani and LL Cool J looked like they were going on a hunt with Toucan Sam. She looked absolutely ridiculous in her Amazon woman print maternity dress and he looked like...he didn't want to be there...
I was ready to turn off the TV when Bruce Springsteen came on and ripped off a hit from his wildly popular "Devils and Dust" album. Same song title. My parents are his hugest fans so I grew up around him. Love that old man...
And then something caught my eye. A platinum blonde Christina Aguilera stepped onto the stage with Herbie Hancock as her wingman. I had my hand on the remote, ya'll, ready to curse a heifer out. But then she did something she has not done in a long time, something I'm not used to hearing from her. She shocked and amazed me at the same time.
She sang.
She actually opened her mouth and let something melodic come out, for the first time in God knows how long. More proof that it was not the acoustics. I was moved by the powerful performance. Ashanti, Beyonce, Ciara, the ABC's of The No-Talent Industry, take that. And take notes and pictures becuase none of you will ever be that good. That is a true diva and that is what a song is supposed to sound like. Ms. Tina, as soon as you get your ish together and put out a good album like the first one, I'll be on my way to the record store.
Album of the Year went to U2. As it should have. There were no other worthy opponents in their category, you feel me? Mariah Carey? I will beat you in your face with a bat. Kanye West? If he would stnad up from sucking himself off long enough to see that people are sick of him, maybe he could tone it down and get an award for something.
I can't front though...Hands down, best performance of the night, Kanye and Jamie Foxx, "Golddigger." We Broke, Phi Broke, we ain't got it! That was hilarious. And dumb ass D-Ray, ya'll know he needs to be caged with Mike Epps retarded ass...
All in all, just like all the other award shows (BET, Source, Vibe, MTV Music/Movie) this show sucked. I'm desperately hoping the Oscar's will do better. And the Soul Train Awards are a lost cause. They nomiated the PussyCat Dolls. For doing what? Certainly not singing. And if I see Olivia's name one time up there, I'm going to have another heart attack.

Complete List of Grammy Winner's


I don't even know what to say to this. This is an unnofficial Hoe Sit Down Award. Presented to Danni Rai (the new Superhead, apparently) who claims she is a US street hop artist. She looks like a very well paid stripper/escort. How much are they paying prostitues these days? She takes the phrase "show em a lil leg" a wee bit far. And this isn't even the bad picture. Yes, there is another one. http://editorial.gettyimages.com/so...=56788753&cdi=0
Hoe, sit the f*ck down.

Check Up On It

Uh, Monica, where ya at? Knock knock...Helloooo...

Anywho, I'm looking and looking and trying to get the daily post schedule together, right and I realize I have got a lot of things going on this site. When I first started posting, it was like one a week, every two weeks or something like that (go head in Archives and check for yourself). Now I'm up to damn near daily. I say damn near because I fell off in the past week or so. Was having a few problems, now I'm back on track.
Monday: ...Ain't Gold
Tuesday: random posts
Wednesday: random posts
Thursday: random posts
Friday: Let's Be Real
Saturday: Hoe Sit Down Award of the Week
Sunday: Weekly Update
That's what the schedule is supposed to look like, right, but it doesn't right now. I'm going to get it together, I promise.
Good news and bad news. Good news is men don't suck as bad as I thought they did. They're all right. Bad news is I'll be back in school soon. I know the two have nothing to do with each other but I felt compelled to add that trivial part of my life to today's post.
Sidebar: Have any of you ever heard of comedian Dane Cook? He's freakin hysterical.
My cat is harrassing a stuffed mouse right now, had it been real, I feel awful for it. It's the old fat one, Socks, so I'm just surprised he got off his fat ass and decided to play. He's like a thousand in cat years. Which is like a trillion in human years. Ok, this is a clear exagerration. Spell check.
Can you tell I'm feeling much better? I am. House returned last week, I'm glad. Too bad I missed half of it on the phone with Batman. I've got to get a tape of his voice and record it so I remember what he sounds like, that's how often we talk. Nah, I'm kidding. He's got extreme writer's block and he hasn't even started the book yet. He's still doing the introduction. It's fully outlined, he just can't write it. Makes no sense to me, from the very good outline I saw, I would expect that he could just spit it on out. But no. So c'est la vie.
For the fellow authors/readers/writers, I've added quite a few new Links in that section. Was
messing around online this morning and came across a bunch. Knock yourseves out.
I'm going to have a drink, be back in a few. :)
Like the graffitti? I do. I think its a potential tattoo. What do you think? I'm open to suggestions. Or I'll just post my other tat pictures and you can vote for the ones you like best. Or whatever.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

In Dumb Fuck News...

Georgia - Trillville rapper Don P was arrested last week for the rape of a 16-year-old girl. The rapper (born Donnell Prince) was charged with rape and two counts of aggravated sodomy. According to Cory Hughes, a DeKalb County police officer, the alleged assault happened Dec. 16 at the Wood Crest Walk apartments in Lithonia, GA. During that time, Prince and another man took the girl into a bedroom, according to police, who also cite the other man in the rape. After leaving the apartment, the girl and her friend called police, who arrived after most of the partygoers left.
The party was attended by about eight to 10 people, Hughes said Monday (Feb. 6). Police are looking for the second man Although Teresa Sanders, Trillville's publicist, did not want to comment on the arrest Monday, Prince's attorney, Keith Adams, voiced his opposition to the version given by authorities. The girl was not a minor, Adams said, adding that there was more than one other person in the room at the time and the sex was consensual. Adams further stated there were several people in the apartment that night and "none of them will corroborate what they [the police] say had occurred."

Remember No Sex in the Champagne Room? If a girl looks twenty-five and says she's 18, she's twelve. It doesn't matter what she told you. Check some fucking ID first, you dumb ass bastard. And just because it was consensual doesn't mean it wasn't rape. Consensual sex with a minor is still statutory rape, you stupid fuck. But I don't know how ya'll do it in Georgia. Half the bitches in them videos look three days older than fourteen...

Los Angeles - Photographs showing pop star Britney Spears driving a car with her infant son in her lap, in apparent violation of motor safety laws, caught the attention of child welfare authorities and ignited a media uproar on Tuesday.
A spokesman for the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department said a deputy paid a visit to Spears' home in Malibu to obtain "contact information" at the request of the Los Angeles County Department of Children and Family Services.
"We were contacted by DCFS to obtain contact information from the Spears for them," said the spokesman, Luis Castro. "What they're going to do with the information we don't know. It's not our investigation."
A spokeswoman for the Family Services Department, Louise Grasmehr, declined comment on the Spears incident. But she said her agency routinely sends social workers to any homes where a child has been reported to be placed in danger, including the failure to properly restrain a baby in a moving car.
Meanwhile, Spears, 24, issued a statement insisting that she is a good mother and that incident in question was the result of a "frightful encounter with the paparazzi."
Pictures published in the New York Post and elsewhere on Tuesday showed Spears at the wheel of her sport utility vehicle, holding her 5-month-old baby, Sean, on her lap. A man identified as her bodyguard is shown next to her in the front passenger seat.
According to the Post, Spears drove for at least two miles along the Pacific Coast Highway in Malibu on Monday.
A source close to Spears told Reuters that the incident occurred after the singer had driven to a Starbucks shop with her son strapped into his car seat in the back of her SUV.
She moved the baby to her lap after stopping at the coffee shop to let her bodyguard go inside, then became unnerved as photographers swarmed around the vehicle as she waited for him to return, the source said. When the bodyguard got back in the car, Spears quickly drove off with her son still in her lap.
"I had a horrifying, frightful encounter with the paparazzi while I was with my baby," Spears said in a statement issued through her publicist. She said Monday's episode reminded her of an incident last summer in which she was "trapped" in her car by a throng of photographers.
"I instinctively took measures to get my baby and me out of harm's way, but the paparazzi continued to stalk us, and took photos of us which were sold to the media," she said. "I love my child and would do anything to protect him."

Bitch, please. If the rest of us can't do it, neither can you. Let's stop blaming the paparazzi for our dumb ass decisions, ok? You are not Princess Diana. Ain't nobody tryna take no pictures of that redneck baby or you. Calm the fuck down.

That concludes this installment of Dumb Fuck News.

Monday, February 06, 2006

Are You Ready For Some Football?

So yesterday was the Superbowl, the big kahuna, the game of the season. Not that I'm a fan of either team, but I was going for the Steelers. Highlights: Jerome "The Bus" Bettis claims he's retiring. (I refuse to call him The Bus, he looks more like a Meat Truck.) Hines Ward received the MVP award and a new 2007 Escalade. Screw the award, I was going to the truck. Score was 21-10, when I last lifted my head from my beer.
I also just realized what the end of Monday Night Football meant. It means that if you don't have ESPN, you're assed out, bruh. I have it, so make sure you don't call me on Monday's this fall. And the Saints will be back home sometime in September. Its about time. I hope the city is rebuilt by then, you know?
I've been getting hounded by you folks about missing posts :). Sorry bout that. Been a litle depressed over the past few days. Mood swings, the Crimson Tide, you feel me? Now that I'm back to normal I'll be back to the daily posts.

Sunday, February 05, 2006

...Ain't Gold (Part Twenty-Three)

It seemed to Rich as though Stretch disappeared off the face of the earth. Everywhere he looked was deserted; every person he asked, knew nothing, saw nothing. He had hit up all the popular spots and the man was literally nowhere to be found.
Rich brooded moodily, wincing in pain as he reached for the Newport's on the coffee table before him. The doctor warned him to stay away from cigarette's until he was fully healed but he couldn't wait that long. He needed a quick stress reliever and one wouldn't kill him. He kicked his feet up and looked around him.
He hated it here; his New Jersey apartment. He hated the stench, the quality of life, the general ugh-ness of everything. There was a black cloud hanging over the city. He wanted to be back home. Back in the grimey, hard ass streets of his native New York. This stagnant, sit-around-and-wait-for-something-to-happen crap was killing him. His team was doing their thing, moving weight in a major way and he was itching to get back to his money. He would be back at the head of the table shortly, as soon as he knew no one else would try to start some shit around his baby girl.
Lighting up, Rich leaned back and wondered why Stretch was so intent on fucking his life up. First, he’d robbed him. Rich was much more than sure it was he who had shot him. Then he threatened Nicole. It made no sense. He hated Stretch, sure, but these extreme attacks were puzzling him. What had he done to the man? Not a goddamn fucking thing, he thought angrily as he blew smoke out of his nose.
After being in deep thought for over an hour, Rich finally lifted his head and watched Nicole clean up around him. He studied her closely, wondering what lengths he would go to for her protection. He lifted his legs as she ran the vacuum under them. Nicole was nervous about something. As of late, he noticed whenever she got moody, she cleaned like a maniac. The house wasn’t that bad to begin with, but she’d gone wild, taking things down, dusting, alphabetizing and replacing them, waxing and polishing, sweeping and mopping. As she went past him again with the vacuum he reached over and yanked the plug out of the wall.
"What the hell?"
"Come on sit down here," he said, patting the couch next to him.
"I wasn't finished, Richard." She looked at his face and sighed, sitting down next to him. He passed her the rest of a cigarette and lit a fresh one, talking around the smoke.
He knew she was disturbed. He’d told her not to call her mother and they’d both gotten new cell phones. He wasn’t stupid. She was missing her family. She had long since forgiven her mother in her heart, but couldn't make a move to go see her or call her.
“What’s the matter, mama?” he asked, leaning his head on hers. She blew out smoke, frustrated.
“Don’t you think I know you a little bit by now?” He put his smoke in the other hand and put his left arm around her. Nicole snuggled next to him.
“I’m worried, Richard. This, this thing is bigger than me and I don't know how I'm supposed to deal wth it. And I'm worried about my mother. I know she's probably got the Feds out looking for me by now, but I’m scared if I go see her, something bad will happen.”

Which was exactly why he didn’t want her going back to her old hood. All somebody had to do was say they knew her and that would be that. He hated having this happen, but these precautions were all for her protection. Only Mookie and Toots knew where they were and they weren’t giving up that information. Smash took it upon himself to make sure no one messed with Chuchi and Cris looked out for her mother and sister.
“Look, mama, I know you worried, but this how it gotta be for a little while.”
“I know. I know. It’s just,” she trailed off. He shook her, making her finish. “I didn’t sign up for this, Rich,” she said, looking into his eyes. “I’m scared. I've never been afraid for my life before.”
He didn't like the sounds of that. “What you mean by that?”
“You said you didn't sign up for this. What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I didn't think being with you would be this hard.”
Rich pulled his arm away from her. He pulled hard on his cigarette, the smoke punctuating his words. “Being with me is hard now?”
She sat up on the couch, tucking a leg under her. Nicole turned his face towards her and looked in his eyes. “I don't mean it like that, Richard. Don't twist my words around.”
“Please, tell me what you mean then.”
“I mean I didn't think all of these crazy things would be happening to us. I’m not saying I regret being with you, no, I’m just saying I’m not used to all this negative stuff happening at one time.”
That was better, he thought. “This is the life, mama. Shit happens like this sometimes.”
Nicole sighed as she put out her smoke. “I know. Just make it go away, Rich.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I will baby. You know I will.”

Cookie had a serious decision to make. She ran her hands over the money once more, lifting it into her face and breathing deep.
"Does it smell good?" he asked, laughing as he lit a cigar.
"It damn sure does," she laughed back.
"Well? What does it mean? Do you want to keep it?"
"I do."
He reached over the table and had his hand out. Cookie looked at her hand, then smiled as she gripped his. She had made her bed and now she was sleeping in it. And she had to admit, Downy soft comforters, goose down pillows and all, it felt damn good.

2006 © Jacki Simmons
All rights reserved.

Hoe Sit Down Award of the Week

Not surprisingly, the Award this week goes to: dum-da-da-dum! Destiny's Child.
I know a bunch of you are shaking your heads wondering, why oh why and how did they make it on this list? Calm down, drop your weapons and let me explain.
A few months ago, on Jimmy Kimmel, DC3 declared that was to be their final performance. Final: Forming or occurring at the end; last. Of or constituting the end result of a succession or process; ultimate: an act with both an immediate and a final purpose. Not to be changed or reconsidered; unalterable.
And so now they are performing the National Anthem at the All Star Game. They are pushing that as their "final public performance together." When are they going to give it up? Final means the end. Why do you keep coming back? Just because Michael Jordan did it doesn't mean we all need to do it. So hoes, sit on down.

(FYI: Michelle, love ya to pieces girlfriend, but uh, two words of advice: Venus and Skintimate. Works wonders.)

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Meme? Meme Who?

I so jacked this from Heather over at http://www.likecrazy.blogspot.com. She seems just as depressed as I am and I need to be surrounded by people like that right now. She has her version, here is mine. (I am bored as blue f*ck, keep that in mind...)

Seven things I plan to do before I die:
1. Visit Paris
2. Learn French
3. Set someone on fire
4. Open a restaurant
5. Get those boots from House of Soles
6. Buy a brownstone
7. Get that full back tattoo I've been talking about

Seven things I can do
1. Write
2. Cook
3. Kick ass
4. Walk/run in heels
5. Lie
6. Win ten grand in Jeopardy
7. Sew

Seven things I can't do
1. Let people down easy
2. Watch someone take a needle
3. Smile when I'm not feeling it
4. Look at feet
5. Get over the fact that I had the chance to set that dude on fire and I missed.
6. Drink milk straight
7. Feign interest

Seven things that attract me to the opposite sex.
1. Good teeth/nice smile
2. Good HBO/good cologne
3. Sense of style
4. Sense of humor
5. Intellect
6. Street smarts
7. Ability to adjust to different settings

Seven things I say most.
1. Oh God
2. Are you serious?
3. You can't be serious
4. Stop it!
5. Yawn!
6. Lord if you love me...
7. Oh boy

Seven good lookin white boys (or at least ones I think are cute)
1. Andy Garcia
2. Johnny Depp
3. Brad Pitt
4. Barry Pepper
5. Matthew McCaughnnehey (I'm damn sure I spelled that wrong)
6. Matt Damon
7. Ralph Fiennes

Seven random lyrics running through my head while answering this meme:
1. Come and listen baby, I know that i tmight sound crazy but, I just wanna cut...
2. Feel the rain on your skin, no one else can feel it for you, only you can let it in, no one else, no one else can speak the words on your lips...
3. The girls are so fine, got more than one girl on my mind, I want my honey dip...
4. I walk a lonely road, the only road that I have ever known, don't know where it goes but I'm the only one and I walk alone...
5. Lonely, I am so lonely, I have nobody to call my own...
6. Love ain't s'posed to feel this way, love ain't s'posed to hurt or cause me pain, love ain't s'posed to make me cry, now I'm tryna wipe my eyes, I'm hatin love.
7. You're the stars in my sky, you're a light to my life, that's why I love you, just don't break my heart. I love you, I love you, I love you, hey hey, so don't break my heart.

That was fun. And so back to my bleak, dreary and otherwise depressing ass day. I might cut my wrists to see color later. Okay, that was ugly bleak sarcasm and I take it back. I need a hug so bad right now it's sad. I think the PMS is bringing my bad mood worse. Or it could be the gallon of liquor I digested over the past three days. Hmm. Whatever it is, I'm going to have to go get a new prescription of happy pills in the very near future.
MusixZone Harlem: Diary of a Summer
Listen to this album
Listen : Jim Jones , Harlem: Diary of a Summer
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Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take and may this song play all the way, through. And if it skip a beat, hit repeat, this the realest shit I ever wrote, this is me. If it skip a beat, hit repeat, This the realest shit I ever wrote, this is me. -Juelz Sanatana, This Is Me, What The Game's Been Missing