Sunday, April 30, 2006

To Vote or Not To Vote

In response to Janedda's question: Why don't you vote? That couldn't have come at a better time. I answered that exact question on C2C this morning. Feel free to email with questions and concerns.

I don't vote now and I don't ever plan to. I don't have enough faith in this shifty corrupt system to blindly pick a leader based on the pretty yarns he spins during election time. There's so much more to the election system than just going behind a curtain and marking a ballot. Strictly IMO, if the leaders of this country gave a good goddamn about the people paying their salaries, things would be a lot different. Inner city children would have the supplies they need to achieve greatness as opposed to watching money they need and deserve go to overpriveleged white children upstate. Our prisons wouldn't be filled with desperate black men who turned to the streets because they felt they had no other choice and everyone refused to give them a chance because of the color of their skin. There would be hope for the single mother because some greedy white collar pulled the funding for day care (which they're trying to do right now). I'm sick of politicians hiding behind each other and tailoring the Constitution to fit their selfish, greedy needs and I'm even more sick of people defending them. This is the "richest country in the world" but instead of feeding and clothing OUR OWN, we want to be the world police and make sure other countries get support and aid. What happened to taking care of our own? How can you fix something else before you've fixed home? What oppressed Iraqi is fighting for the children in the jacked up foster care system, the jacked up school system, the jacked up SS system, the jacked up prison system and the jacked up economy? Exactly, there aren't any. Instead of making sure we have everything we need here and keeping the country happy, our lovely President has decided he's going to wage a phony war so he can inhabit an oil bearing country. He has authorized the murder of innocent women and children in the name of democracy and freedom and the extinguishing of terrorism and the upholding of the American way. Yeah, I'm just racing to the polls. I'm going to support liar after liar, murderer after murderer, bum after bum. Please. When a candidate PROVES, not just says, he is worthy of my trust, maybe I'll get on down to the polls. But as they say, ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS and from my standpoint, they're "talkin loud but ain't sayin Sh*!."

Saturday, April 29, 2006

A Nose In Need Deserves Puffs Indeed

Didn't leave the house at all yesterday, way too sick. I sent Tah to go deposit my check in the bank. So all that ish I was talking the other day isn't going to happen until I can actually move. I'm writing this right now on his lap top.
This ain't hardly allergies, this is a full blown cold. Coughing (hacking rather), sneezing, post-nasal drip (you know that thing tghat happens when you try to sleep and you sit up in the middle of the night with an itchy, aching eustachian tube as whatever is in your nose drips to the back of your throat?), and achy body. I drank a half a bottle of NyQuil the other night and it put me to sleep but it gave me really bad cotton mouth. So when I finished it I drank about a gallon of water. Ma thinks NyQuil is overmedicatin myself (apparently, she doesn't seem to realize that this is no longer allergies, yet a bad case of spring nasopharyngitis. I'm pissed because it's not helping my already stellar mood from the occurences of this week. I switched from NyQuil to Benadryl. Ma was shouting something as I went to the store this morning:
"Loratidine! Get Loratidine!"
"Ask the pharmacist. It's generic Claritin!"
Fat chance, ma. I want the fast remedy. "Can't I jsut get NyQuil?"
"It's too strong. This is only allergies! You're gonna make yourself sick!"
Ma, if this were merely allergies, I wouldn't have that Death, take me now feeling running thorugh my body and mind.
"And would you get me some coffee?"
She takes hers large with cream and three sugars. I would rather be dead than drink coffee; I stick to my meds. "Yeah."
"Don't forget to get Loratidine!"
"Ma, I'm gonna get the Benadryl."
"How much is it?"
If you don't let me get to the store, I will never know. "I don't know, Ma. Like five bucks."
Turns out it was six bucks. I got back, drank a third of the bottle, some water, blew my nose, and went back to sleep. I'm miserable. Everytme I sneeze, my throat hurts worse (if any of you say a goddamn fucking thing about the cigarettes I'll smack the shit out of you) and I've been spittin up these gross globs of pleghm all day. I hate that word, it's so nasty. So I bid thee good people adieu until I can, in the immortal words of Mrs. Braxton, breathe again.

Friday, April 28, 2006

Hip-Hop Has Risen and Died Again

Actor and comedian Katt Williams recently took some time to talk to SOHH about his newest venture - being a rap artist.
As SOHH previously reported, Williams recently signed with Cam'ron's Diplomat Records.
"It's official," Williams confirmed to SOHH exclusively. "My album is coming out this year. I had about three places that I decided would be a good look. I won't say who all I met and had discussions with but I had an offer from Universal. I'm not going to say the name of the second place and the last person was Cam. Me and Cam met for maybe an hour and at the end of the hour we both understood what it was gonna be."
The announcement came during the recent taping of Williams stand-up DVD in Atlanta, GA. "We taped my comedy special in Atlanta," Williams said. "It was crazy. At the end, in front of 4,000 people we made the Dipset announcement at the tail end of that. So yes, the revolution will be televised."
The album, which is titled It's Pimpin is due out this summer. An actual release date has not yet been determined.
"It's a rap album, but it's funny," said Williams. "I got to deal with whoever I wanted to deal with. Snoop is on the album, Lil Jon, E-40, Paul Wall, Mike Jones, Suga Free, Lyfe Jennings, MC Lyte, Da Brat, Dipset of course.
"The first single will probably be hittin in the next 21 days," he added, although he has yet to choose what song will be the first released. "It's a battle between the song with me, Lil Jon and Ice Cube and another song with me, Paul Wall and Mike Jones."
Williams, who begins taping his third season of the Nick Cannon helmed MTV improv show "Wild N' Out" next week, will also reprise his A Pimp Named Slickback role for the second season of Aaron McGruder's "The Boondocks' animated series. According to Williams, McGruder is currently in talks with Sony about making a live action film about the life of A Pimp Named Slickback, which would star Williams.
Currently filming the new Eddie Murphy film Norbit, alongside Charlie Murphy, Cuba Gooding Jr., Thandie Newton, Williams will again play the role of a pimp, but he told SOHH he has no worries about being typecasted.
"I'm a fly dude... I just am," Williams told SOHH. "There are certain things that you think about when you see me and that's what I'm bringing to the role. I don't waste my time thinking about the pigeon hole thing. I can't be stuck, I make over a million dollars a year doing stand up. What happens in TV and movies, that's other issues. I'm on one of the top shows on MTV and I'm not playing a pimp there.
"When I was on My Wife and Kids' with Damon Wayans, I played a corny dude that's stuck in the 80's," he adds. "When I acted on 'The Tracy Morgan Show' I was just a dude that came by Tracy's shop that liked music. I am what I am. So I bring what I am to my parts. There are a lot of actors who would love to do what I'm doing. A lot of people when they hear I am doing this rap album are like, 'Well, can he rap?' But it's a numbers game. I'm gonna outsell a whole lot of qualified rappers and they'll just have to deal with that."


Cam, I was really starting to put you back on my good side after More Than Music but this is just foolishness. DipSet is already comprised of Cam, Jim Jones, Juelz Santana, Hell Rell, JR Writer, Freakey Zekey, Jha Jha (who I'm not too fond of), 40 Cal, Max B, and most recently, DukeDaGod. Starting to sound a lot like G-Unit; bunch of thugged out dudes with one broad and a comedian (the role of the comedian in G-Unit is played by Ma$e.) The third coming of the Wu-Tang clan. They really are trying to start a movement, I see. But can Katt Williams rap any worse than the above mentioned characters? (As you can see I'm clearly playing the Devil's Advocate because I am a well know massive DipSet fan.) He is a comedian, not a rapper. It's the same thing as Chris Tucker bustin out with osme rhymes about how funny Jackie Chan was in Rush Hour. *Sigh*

And Jesus wept.

You Are Everything

Last night we had an argument
Afterwards, I'm feelin' pretty bent
Then I took a drink and I didn't think
What was in store for me
So I wrote a letter
Dropped it on the bedroom floor
I never felt this way before, no
I grabbed my coat and closed the door baby, I'm sorry

Baby I'm sorry
Sorry for what I've done
Will you forgive me
Will you forgive me and let me be your only one
Cuz you are

You are everything
And I would give you anything
Sorry for what I've done
I wanna be your only one
Girl I apologize for all your tears
When you cried, sorry for what I've done
I wanna be your only one

Girl I
for all the tears
And all the lies
And if by chance
just one more chance
I swear I'll be
the epitome of a good man

Baby I'm sorry
Sorry for what I've done
Will you forgive me
And let me be your only one
Cuz you are

You are everything
And I would give you anything
Sorry for what I've done
I wanna be your only one
Girl I apologize for all your tears
When you cried, sorry for what I've done
I wanna be your only one

You are everything
And everything is you
You are everything
Everything I do
You are everything
And everything is you
You are everything
Girl, you're everything I do
You are everything
And everything is you
You are everything
Girl, you're everything I do
Everything I do

-Dru Hill, Enter The Dru

Rants From My 18-Year-Old Mind

i've decided not to capitalize anything in today's post. tomorrow, i will be using neither capitalization nor punctuation. that should be fun. i'll show you grammar freaks.

it has come to my attention that some of my readers apparently think i'm older than i say i am. i find this hilarious. folks always think i'm older than i am when it comes to things that don't count. people tell me i look as old as twenty-five. try cashing a thousand dollar check without state id. all of sudden my ass looks sixteen. bastards.
the thing that kills me is that i can cash my mother's checks and pay all her bills without them giving me a second glance. so why in the good green hell can't i cash my own damn check? wtf? this is a government conspiracy, i swear. so, as if getting up too early in the morning to go out today wasn't bad enough, i have to get back up tomorrow (my day off, my damn day off) and hustle down down to dmv to get my non-drivers id card. more drama. the first theing they request when going for your NON DRIVERS ID CARD is ID. if i had id, i wouldn't need id. seriously, whose idea was that? i could kill them right now.
tonight, i have to search my room frantically for various pieces of id that will eventually culminate into six points. i don't know how many points the birth certificate racks up, it doesn't specify. of course, i'm slow so i could have missed it. so i'm guessing if i take my high school/college/union settlement id's, birth certificate and ss card and my pretty face, that should be more than enough to get me in good. i'm going to have to look at the site again.
as you all know, mama is slow. i'm not going to lie about it only to be found out later and embarrassed. i have a hard time understanding things. just a wee bit. it tkaes me a few moments more than others. like when my brother asked me what color was george washington's white horse and i said huh? rest assured, there's a difference between slow and stupid. i ain't stupid. trust and believe that.
i am indecisive today, though. about certain situations. like, how do you tell your girlfriend that the guy she is dating is a total dickweed and will probably cheat on her the second she slides the ring on his finger? or your best friend that his girlfriend is a self-centered prick who cares nothing about him but what he can do for her? or your boyfriend that you are going to kick him in the shins with a steel-toed boot if he doesn't get his ish together in a reasonable amount of time?
*sigh* the sick me is having a hard time saying, "you need to open your eyes and realize that he is using you and if he loved you he wouldn't have waited this long and cheated on you various times to realize he 'loves' you; you need to drop this bitch because any woman who maxes out your credit card after she stole it from you is not a keeper; and you sir, have serious work to put in to get back on my good side." *another long sigh* it jsut doesn't come out that way when i'm not feeling good. it's jsut so much easier to lay in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the Dru Hill album over and over and over again. i didn't know any of those songs when i first got it (okay, well there were a few i knew and a few i didn't) but i'll be damned if i don't know them all by heart now.

okay, so i checked back at the site and they're not even open on saturday. i'm glad i figured that out before i didn't ask someone and made the unnecessary trek down there. so scrap the two above paragraphs. i'm just going to go home, get my atm card, and deposit the damn thing. save myself a shitload of trouble. should have done that in the first place, shouldn't i have? i just hate the whole wait-nine-years-for-it-to-clear thing. so i will have to wait until hopefully monday to be cleverly disguised as a responsible adult.
speaking of, did i mention that i could be working come monday? well, i'm not going to go all happy on ya'll, but i'm feeling very optimistic though. i need the cash flow.

sleep beckons.

Cleverly Disguised As A Responsible Adult

My day will be rather busy today, I'm going to be spending it pretending I've actually got imortant things to do. Gotta get my hair done, pay my phone bill, take a trip downtown (I'm sure I've mentioned my disdain for the "other" side of Manhattan), cash a check, buy some sneakers, buy an iPod (yeah, I broke down), buy a phone, and make it back uptown by 2:45. (Insert Wonder Woman theme music here.)
So you lovely people may not see me for the next few days but I promise there will be a post of interest up soon. My phone should be back on by tomorrow night (hopefully) so give me a test call around eight o'clock.
If you couldn't tell, yes, I'm exhausted. I've been burning the candle at both ends for over a week now and I finally think I'm ready to crash. Went to bed at four yesterday and was up all day cleaning the front of the house. So yeah, the little sleep I'm gonna get, because I gotta get up early and do my hair, is well deserved.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Wrangler Jeans and Jellies


So one of my girlfriends emails me these pictures of male models. The caption goes: "Ms. Tyra, these are America's real next top models." I felt the need to share. Now I am going to rep a fine man to the fullest but he has to give me something to go on, seriously. These guys are ummm...gag me with a spoon.
I believe, and I don't think I'm alone here, that male modeling is quite possibly the gayest profession ever invented. I mean, what screams fag like "walk, walk walk, and strike a pose, bitch!"? Clearly you male models have mommy issues that were not discussed during the intesne therapy sessions you missed out on as you catwalked through the cafeteria. Now there is absolutely nothing wrong with being an attractive man, nothing wrong at all. But these suggestive poses are best left to those with feminine anatomies, I find. Take for example:

Can it possibly get gayer than that? How do you tell your dudes, "ay yo son, look at that new picture of me in DETAILS, son. Tell me that shit ain't fire my nigga." If you make it out before the bullets start flying, you're one lucky bastard. Seriously. No grown ass man is going to show his friends pictures of him hugging his own naked body unles he's doing some serious after hours teabagging. Let's move on:

Brandon. Darling. I don't know if you look more like a Downy soft snow bunny or an extra from a bad Avant wannabe video. What was the name of that show where one lucky winner could get the chance to make a video where they look like their favorite celebrity? Super fruit, super fruit, he's super fruity...NEXT!

No words. Is that...Ne-Yo? Oh, I am so sick alright...

How do you justify this shit? How is this right to you? In what altered state of mind did he find this to be proper behavior for a straight dude? I could only be more sick if it were glitter. They I would be racing from the computer to the bathroom trying to hold the bile back before it spewed out across the entire room. If my dude ever came home and showed me these pictures I would seriously ask him if there was someone else. But wait. There's more:

Stuffing anyone? I'm sure there's enough to go around. Turkey or pork? Oh both, here's a double scooping. I haven't seen anything remotely as gay since this. Or that. Completely fagadocious. Unnacceptable. Our grand finale:

Oh, rain down on me, let your love just fall like raindrops...My bad. In the indelible words of Jay-Z, what more can I say? I don't want anyone coming at me trying to justify this shit as ok either. Because it's wrong. It's just very, very, maddeningly wrong. My kids are gonna be fine as red hell but I refuse to dignify my son with a response if he ever comes home and tells me that he plans on modeling for a living. How you people look at the sale of crack is how I look at male modeling. Just plain wrong.
(For those of you that actually enjoyed these pics, email me for the full archive.)


RIP Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes
May 27, 1971 - April 25, 2002

Monday, April 24, 2006

A Midweek Hoe Sit Down Award

Diddy's planning to drop his next — and last — solo album September 19, he told MTV Europe, and to make it special, he's recruited a lot of help, including Mary J. Blige, Christina Aguilera, Brandy, Busta Rhymes, Nas and Will.I.Am. "I'm taking from what I've learned from dance music, electro-clash, techno, hip-hop, soul and pop, and kind of fusing it together," Diddy said. "It's like everything in hip-hop is so hardcore with guns and problems and beef, and nobody is being romantic — not in a corny way, but just giving all of yourself. It's still going to have that gangsta vibe to it, but it's a musical journey. It's going to feel good." Diddy said the first single will be a club track. "We are going to bring
a lot of high fashion, a lot of energy, a lot of sex, a lot of drugs, spirituality, good times," he explained. "We're going to have something for the kids, but it's really an adult thing. It's definitely pornographic, orgasmic, gangsta, to the point where your soul feels good. It's like a spiritual revolution. It's like being sanctified." And if that sounds like an odd combo, sums it up as "Little Richard-style for the ladies.

This is truly Unforgiveable. Its more than enough that we don't know what brotha man is calling hismelf these days. But does Shiny Suit Man have to keep insulting our intelligence with the juvenile ass albums? I would rather listen to Cam'Ron as he "keeps computers putin'" on a Purple Haze track. Could he be kidding any harder? I mean really? Didn't we go through this same thing with Jigga?
For added fun, watch in 2006 as Young Joc, Cherri Dennis and some faceless, nameless white chick suffer the Curse of Bad Boy.

Paid In Full

I can't wait until I am the CEO of my own shit.
That would undoubtedly make me more of a bitch than I am now but if I'm the one calling the shots it doesn't really matter, does it? I think of all the CEO's of powerful companies int he movies and how much they had to give up to get there. Remember Anthony Hopkins in Meet Joe Black? Even though I be goddamned if somebody knocks me out of my position of power. I guess that was bad example. And now that I'm thinking of it I can't remember. Oh wait, Vin Diesel in Boiler Room. I love that movie.
Cutthroat. Do I want to be cutthroat? No, I just want to be respected and feared enough fro people to realize that I am not one to be stepped on or over. There is no worse feeling than being a brown noser in a world where you can only go up. I would hate to spend the rest of my life kissing someone's ass when I could spend the rest of my life having my ass kissed, you know?
But that's the shit about paying your dues. Eventually, unless you're really, really good, you have to kiss some ass to get where you want to be. I'm not a fan of kissing ass but I can understand the importance of fakin it to make it. I'm not going to live on my knees but if I need to walk two steps behind you every now and then, I will do so, feel me?
So as I sit here penning this post, nursing a very large glass of JW, smoking and listening to the Diplomats, I must remind myself from here on out that shit is going to get really real. I'ma have to put my head down and squeeze through the crowd with one shoulder. Hustlin is hard to do but apparently that's what needs to be done in order to make it to the top.
At least in this world, it is.

Saturday, April 22, 2006

Hoe Sit Down Award of the Week

Karrine Steffans says she's gotten it on with Usher, Diddy, Vin Diesel, Shaquille O'Neal and Ja Rule, among other famous men. But when it comes to satisfying her as a woman, no one compares with comic Bill Maher.

"It took a lot to impress me," the best-selling author of "Confessions of a Super Vixen" tells us. "Bill was my perfect match. [Love-making] was explosive and amazing. I've never been with someone who couldn't keep his hands off me."

And it wasn't just the passion. "He made me a better person. I never expected fidelity and commitment from Bill Maher, but we saw each other every day, and he reached out to include my son."

As much as she was learning from her 50-year-old "daddy," Steffans, 27, says she began to feel "like I was just becoming his girlfriend. I needed to explore."

About three months ago, they decided to take a break. "It was nice to hear people calling my name when I walked down the red carpet," she says. "But now I want to go back home to him. I haven't been with anyone else since. I will never be with another man."

It was one year ago today that they met. Though they still exchange E-mails and phone calls, she says, "It's going to be a lonely anniversary."

"Bill is free to go out and date," she says. "The difference between me and whoever he's [bleep]ing now is they're not getting what he gave me."

Maher wasn't available for comment yesterday, but he told us in August he was serious about Steffans.

While she waits to see what her romantic future holds, Steffans is furious over a piece of her freaky past that's been resurrected.

Tomorrow, Vivid Entertainment plans to release a DVD titled "Superhead," Steffans' nickname in the hip hop world. Her lawyers plan to file a motion in L.A. Federal Court to stop the release.

Steffans admits she signed a release form when she went before the cameras with the porn player known as Mr. Marcus. But she emphasizes, "That was six years ago, when I was a coke whore. I was a single mom. I needed money. Vivid makes it look like it's a new tape. They're using my current picture and a book title without my permission. If anyone profits from this film, I want my cut, which I will donate to charity."

She adds, "I have better sex tapes at my home - with people more famous than me. I have those for my own pleasure. I could make a ton off them. But I don't make money off sex anymore."

And who might those famous people be? Bill perhaps?

"No," she says. "But if he was, I wouldn't tell you."

Source: Daily News

If you recall, this is the THIRD award bestowed upon Ms. Steffans. She is now neck and neck with Kanye West for the Hoe Sit Down Award of the Year.
When is this broad going to let it go? I'm so tired of hearing about her vagina, its ridiculous. Besides the fact that it's probably like throwing a hot dog down a hall way, Thanks Stewie) her pussy is really starting to piss me off. Shouldn't you be off somewhere, I don't know...raising your child?

Friday, April 21, 2006

Mama's Baby, Papa's Maybe

So I'm watching my daily does of Negro TV (the Maury Show, Divorce Court, Judge Alex and Judge Hatchett) at my mamas job as she types a memo for one of her directors. Judge Hatchett had some guy on there with two women claiming he was their childnres fathers. I was disappointed not in the fact that he was there for two kids by two different women no, but by what I saw in the advertisement for the next episode: "She claims they held a secret rendesvous just so she could get pregnant."
Are you freakin kidding me?
I turned to my mother, who was busy shaking her head, and asked her this, "Why don't people understand the ramifications of their actions whne they claim they want a kid?" I don't get it. There is no reason kids should be raising kids. You're not even finished raising yourself. And how many grandparents are stuck with grandchildren they didn't birth, while their children struggle to make it in the outside world?
There is so much more to being a parent and having a baby than just changing pampers. Its not all oohs and aahs at baby showers. Sure, you may take pride in your baby bump when you're waltzing through Baby Gap and Babies R Us but think about it...
Staying up til four thirty in the morning because little Susie has colic and can't sleep.
Calling your girlfriends and telling them you can't go lubbing because you can't find a baby sitter. They curse you out because tonight is ladies night and this is the third time you've had to bail on them.
Wondering where in blue hell this kids father is, what he's doing and who he's doing it with.
Medical bills that are piling up because since you have no one to watch your child, you can't work. And all these girls are doing what they're doing all alone. There are plenty of fathers who are standing up and doing the right thing but at the same time there are plenty of others that are not.
Why is being a 'baby mama' a badge of honor? That's why I was so pissed when Fantasia came out with that dumb ass song. It's not something that should be condoned. Its something that should be addressed and prevented. I'm not going to talk bad about anyone under eighteen with a child because all of my best friends are mothers. My godbrother Tah had his daughter when he was seventeen. He is now twenty-one. My best friend (from way back in junior high) had he first child when we were in tenth grade. Another very close friend started having kids in the eighth grade and she's up to her fifth right now. She'll be twenty in January.
I've watched all of the grow and mature in different ways. Granted, they're still kids at heart (ya'll know how dumb Tah can be) but being a parent at a young age forces you to become a grownup regardless o whether the law states it or not.
When did life become so complicated?

Thursday, April 20, 2006


This is a very important message to all my readers. If you are used to typing in, squash that. The new address is Please take a second to write that down and remember it, as I don't want to lose any members. I will be creating a monthly newsletter to send out to you people because in the near future, I'm not too sure of my availability.
Thanx for all the support, homies. :)

More Random Musings From A Newportless Mind

I should really think about paying my phone bill. I've been out of touch with the outside world for the past two days and I do't like that feeling. I miss hearing the familiar "...when I chirp, shawty chirp back..." or the "...and I gotta admit that you got my attention..." when my phone rings. They didn't even give me a freakin warning. I picked up my phone to make a call and it was all "Your call has been redirected to Cingular Wireless upon nonpayment on your account." I was pissed. First of all, it was not nonpayment. It was late payment. There is a subtle difference. They act like they're not ever going to get their money. I mean, could you have at least given a bitch a warning?

I need to quit smoking. I say that every time I light a smoke but I haven't quite gotten around to it.

Someone asked if the Jim Jones album, Harlem: Diary of A Summer is going to be the official album of This Is Me, and I answered yes. So G's up.

Tyson Beckford can be as gay as a pink poodle in a sea of rhinestone puppy collars laying on a silk chaise sipping pink lemonade. He will still be fine as all holy hell.

I only recently felt sorry for Lil Km after watching Countdown to Lockdown for the very first time on BET. That's the most riveting thing I've watched on that channel in only the Good Lord knows how long.

Now that Easter is over, is everyone going to start going Christmas shopping like my godbrother's baby mama?

Does anybody really give a fuck? Hasn't his career been over for years now? I mean seriously, who would buy a solo K-Ci album? Put your name in the comments responding in the pository and I will slap the green and blue shit out of you. No one cares about you K-Ci. Not even Mary.

I haven't read a book in over a month. That is not good.

Guess who's ass is gonna be in summer school? I don't mind really, the last summer school session I had to endure really wasn't all that bad. The teachers were cool, and my classroom was on the breezey side of the building and I went every day. I think I might have missed liek two days but at the end of the session, I passed all my regents and all three (count em three) of my classes. These six credits are really nagging me because they keep jumping off the papers and shit and laughing my face, calling for my slow and steady demise. I'ma get there, eventually.

Note continued from above: Maybe I should have a birthday/graduation/book release party? That shit would be really dope because those three things will be happening at around the same time. *Rubs chin thoughtfully* Hmmmm...

Note continued from above: I finally decided what I'm doing for my twenty-first birthday. (I'm not even nineteen and I'm planning for the two one. What can I say? I like to be prepared.)

So Babies R Us called me back today so they could get my address and send out my background check. I'm not gonna jinx myself, but for the very first time, I'm feeling optimistic.

So my girlfriend is clownin me becuase I would rather go to a strip club when I turn twenty-one than go to one when I turn nineteen. Should I do both? Hmm... I want my mama to take me to the Blue Note before I go to the club (this is the 21st party) because I've heard so much about it, and I'll finally be able to buy my own damn drink. :) Not that I can't now, but at least it will be legal. I will explain the whole birthday thing in a much later post.

The D Word (c) Copyright bitches, is coming along quite well. If you wish toread an excerpt, hit me up at Yahoo.

They finally forced me into this shit. It actually works though, in two days, I got five people that wanna read my book. I'm very happy about that. That networking shit is something else ain't it? So in return I reviewed music and it's actually not that bad. Check them out here.

Have you noticed that now that I've figured out how to post links I've been going bananas? Yes, its okay, you can laugh. I'm so happy I figured that dumb shit out so now there is going to be at least one link per post. *Smiles*

Right now I'm about to lace up my kicks and go down to TwoFifth and knock a nigga out. Wish me luck. :)

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Don't Ask, Dont Tell (One)

I have never been a morning person. I roll over and pull the sheets over my head when the first rays of the sun creep over the horizon and give birth to the rosy fingers of dawn. Call me bitter if you like. I hate the morning. It’s just a grim reminder that I have to look my husband in the face another day. Which means he’s still alive.
I used to love
Jackson, once upon a time. He used to love me. We had a fairy-tale romance, a fairy-tale wedding, a fairy-tale honeymoon and a fairy-tale marriage. I used to think he was so talented, so smart. He was amazing in bed. I’m blushing just thinking about it. Jackson was the only man who ever made my legs shake. He did things to my body that were inexplicable. Now, I don’t even remember the last time we had a good romp.
He’d never given me a reason why our love cooled off. Partly because I never asked. We just seemed to let it go. I never asked him where he was going or when he’d be back. Vice versa. We came and went as we pleased; the only common courtesies we bestowed upon each other were the simple pleasantries: Good morning. Want some coffee? Please. Thank you. Excuse me. How was your day? Goodnight. Our conversations rarely went any further than that. Neither of us had reached for the divorce papers yet. I don’t know what we were waiting for. Maybe inside we were hoping something better would come along and we could go back to the way things used to be.
I hear Jackson pull up in front of our house. He always slams the front door. In a moment, he’ll come up the stairs with a beer. I’m already in bed. He comes into the bedroom, his suit jacket and briefcase in one arm and his Heineken in the other. I have my face buried in a book and I pretend not to be watching him. He sets his briefcase down.
“Evenin, Ivy.”
“Hello, Jackson.”
“Whatcha got there?”
“Any good?”
That was that. He changed his clothes then, never in front of me, always in the closet. We used to take each other’s clothes off and leave them in piles at the foot of the bed. Those were the good old days. He came out in his boxers, pulling his sheet back and turning on the television. He drank his beer, watching Letterman and giving a half-hearted laugh every once in a while. It went off and he flicked off his light.
“Night Ivy.”
“Goodnight Jackson.”

I could smell, very faintly, the odor of a woman’s perfume. And so it began.

Ivy could be such a bitch. I love her, or at least I think I do. When I met her, she took me by surprise. She made me love her. I had never been hit as hard or as fast as I was when I found out I loved her. That feeling has long since passed. I hate to say it but she makes me regret the day I said I do. It’s not a good feeling, being unattached from your wife. You didn’t get married to fall out of love.
It seemed like the seconds between us have stretched into minutes. Then into hours and days and weeks and as far as I remember, it’s been at least a year since she and I had a really good conversation. Or even really good sex. Everyone I know said the sex was awful once they got married. Not with Ivy, it wasn’t. That woman’s body made me thank God I was a man. But it seems as of late I can’t remember what she looks like naked.
Everything just died between us. First, we stopped doing little things together, holding hands in public, going out to dinner. She stopped reading to me at night. I stopped running my fingers through her hair. We stopped talking. Then the sex stopped. We got separate cars, separate lives. I thought it would be a matter of time before we got separate bedrooms, but she seemed content to stay the way we were.

I met Karinna some time ago. To be honest, I don’t know how it happened. She just sort of stumbled into my life. I needed a secretary and she needed job. Karinna filled the void that Ivy left. No one knew me better than my wife, but since I didn’t really know Ivy anymore, Karinna was the next best thing. I didn’t love Karinna; it was more of a really strong like. She was just something that kept me stable for the moment. I hated leading her on, but I needed what Karinna gave me. Gentle security.
She’s so cold now, and so am I. We were just going through the motions until one of us decided to sign the papers. I don’t even know if she wants the divorce. Or if she’s just toying with me, hoping I’ll be miserable until I die. I came home tonight and I could feel her eyes boring a hole into my back. The air was tight with what we were never going to say. I hated it. I don’t know how she felt on the inside, but on the outside, she was frozen solid. Almost as if none of this had any effect on her. That’s what made me so mad. Nothing seemed to faze her. She seemed fine with the thick silent hot air between us.
I couldn’t find it, but I know there was some part of me that still loved Ivy. At least I think so.

(c) 2006 Jacki Simmons
All rights reserved.
Note: Violators will be subject to a serious Harlem beatdown if plagiarism is suspected.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

You Know It's Hard Out Here For A...

You know something, you may not be able to count on a hustla for a damn thing. But you sho nuff can count on them niggas for one thing: to be at work.
It's a guarantee that you can find a hustla on the block all hours of the day. You wanna know where they are? Just go where they be. Which is exactly why I am no longer trippin about not knowin where the hell this nigga is. He's where he always is and I can count on that. I wanna see him, all I need to do is take my ass down the hill. But only a desperate bitch is gonna be all up under a nigga when he's working so...I won't be doing all that. I've found other ways to pass my time.
I've been visiting Fresh on a daily basis, getting in a good laugh. That chick is crazy and the way she gets on these celebs is hysterical. Good laughs every damn day. What's better? If you enjoy that site, enjoy Inciting A Riot.
Also been getting in touch with my inner Diplomat. Don't ask me why but I've been bumping that old ass More Than Music mixtape for the past two days.
Been harrassing my publishing company for the past few days trying to get my head right and get my info all together. They don't call as often as my previous publisher did, but then again they are also a lot more busy. With his company, there was just him and me. Then I left and he was back to just him. He did take care of me and teach me a lot of things about the game before we parted ways though so I (goddamn I love this song! Camron on Somebody Gotta Die Tonight) have to give him a shoutout.
Speaking of shoutouts I was wondering aloud today what my acknowledgement page is going to look like when my book comes out. I was laughing to myself like I'm not gonna put "if I've forgotten you, you're still in my prayers." I was gonna say "if I've forgotten you, there's a reason." *Laughing* Evil, I know. It's hard for me to show I care, since I don't. If I haven't seen you in enough time to remember your name then you can't possibly be that important.
Finally got around to that Pink Floyd album, The Wall. Now I plan on actually listening to it.
I was playing Juelz Santana like there's no tomorrow. He ain't no Jim Jones but he's an aight nigga. I know everybody gets on DipSet because of them candy cane raps they be spittin but I know each and everyone of you is a damn liar if you say you weren't gettin down everytime you heard "Oh Boy."
Listen to T.I.'s new album, KING. If you're into the southern thing, knock yourself out. I'm not, but since T.I. is one of the only two (Ludacris) southern rappers I respect, I have to support his lil skinny lightskinned ass.
I'm glad my readers enjoyed the revised edition of Ain't Gold. I hated it. I hated writing it. It wasn't what I wanted for the story but I kind of caught the feeling that you weren't going to let me leave it be. Just so you know, when its transformed into novel form, I will be using the ORIGINAL ending, not none of that mushy lovey dovey shit.
Oh and your nominations for Nigga of the Year are due. Whether it be K-Fed for having Child Welfare visit his home (aka BCW to us black folks), to having Kanye West star in his own movie and demand that the Bible be rewritten to include him, to my man Juvenile getting arressted let me know and we'll tally up the votes and have a big ole party the night before the '06 recap. Something is telling me that K-Fed is going to win by a landslide...

Monday, April 17, 2006

Misery Loves Company

I never grasped the full, undiluted meaning of this phrase until today. And now that I have grasped it, I know just how to conquer it. No more am I going to let the shit that has been pissing me off for the past few weeks continue to piss me off. No more am I going to stomp out of the house and sit on the stoop with a bottle of water and a cigarette, bitching and moaning about 'what could have been.' I am an advocate for getting off your ass and doing something about it so why am I sitting here making myself miserable? I had a sort of a revelation today: Shit only happens if you let it. Meaning, misery is only going to follow your ass if you want it to. All this time I've been wishing and hoping and praying that things could be different. Shoulda, coulda woulda, but didn't. So why dwell on what I can't change? I'm not the type that believes in fate or destiny. I'm a firm believer in the "shit happens" theory. (I'm sorry, I never have been big on all that predetermination shit.) I started penning this thinking about what I didn't have, now I'm penning this thinking about what I do have, and what I will have. I'm going to be an author. I have a book coming out, Lord willin, by the end of this year. I have a place to live, friends and family that love me, clean clothes on my back, a roof over my head, a drink in one hand and a loosie in the other. I couldn't be happier. What the fuck am I complaining about? Sure, shit could be different. But I realize just how much time I've spent letting the little shit get in the way of my success and prosperity. I've wasted a lot of time giving a fuck. I mean, a whole lot of time. I ain't worryin about nobody but mama from this day forward. I'm going back to the way I used to be. If you can't do anything for me, you're of no use to me. Keep yourself first and all other bullshit second. Be about your money and your business and all that other good shit. No more of that stopping to think of your fellow man. Hell no, that's the end of that. From this day forward, the bitch is back and she ain't takin no prisoners.
On a much lighter note, to the folks that have been calling me and haven't received an answer, don't fret, I haven't forgotten about you. Here's a mini update:
-I need to have the first draft of this book to my company by May 1st. Now seeing that things around here haven't been tip top lately, I'm not going to be able to do that (unless I seriously bust my hump) so I'm asking for an extension. I will keep you posted on the progress of Stripped as it becomes available to me.
-Yes, I did go to the interview on Friday. It was supposed to be a group interview with sixteen people present but it rained really hard all day long and just me and this one other dude showed up. There was a second interview the day after and the manager told me that as soon as my background check came back clear (which it should because as much as I want to kill someone I haven't actually been able to) I would be clear. So I'm very optimistic about that, although I'm not holding my breath cuz ya'll know how I am. If I do end up getting the job you people will not see me very often as the job requires me to work from 10pm to 6am. Yeah, graveyard shift, for real.
-Spoke to L, albeit briefly. *Sigh* You can't get what you want all of the time but you can get some of what you want some of the time.
-Remember I said I was going to sit down and compile my list of my five favorite movies of all time? I finally sat down and thought about it and came to the conclusion that they all happen to star my favorite actor, Kevin Spacey. (Usual Suspects, American Beauty, LA Confidential, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, and Se7en) Go figure.
-If you try to call me on Thursday and don't get through, my phone is off. Yeah, that bill didn't quite get paid, so um... Yeah...It should be back though so if you have my home number, feel free to use it. If you don't, well you're just not that important are you?

Sunday, April 16, 2006

I'm Talkin To You

Is it alright if I say T.I. is lookin ultra fine in this picture? (Not mine, straight jacked from Young Black and Fabulous)
I was listening to his album today, (you too can listen to King if you click the link on the sidebar) and I've gotta say, I'm impressed with the kid. The only song I skip is the one with Jamie Foxx, don't ask me why but I hate that shit. I have a few favorites though, I'm Talkin To You, Front Back, What You Know, Why You Wanna, Stand Up Guy...Ok if I keep going I'll name the whole album. It's a really good album and it's making me want to go back and listen to Urban Legend. No, I never listened to the whole album.
Notice, I never got around to that short hiatus I was talking about. Everytime I wanted to, something new popped up. I was on vaca, then Proof died, then I had to link to Technorati, then I had to freakin cough up the alternate ending so Moni (and the crowd of angry villagers) could get off my back.
Not much doing today, gonna pin my hair up, put on a cute skirt and go outside. I'm bored as blue fuck and there's no reason to spend the day in the house, feel me?
Happy Easter bitches.

Saturday, April 15, 2006

Special Holiday Post

Today is Easter.
Something else happens today, an annual event that happens to be overshadowed by the holiday. Today is Moni's berfday.
She was telling me how much today was going to suck, seeing as everyone is going to be in church. It's a Sunday, it's Easter, no one is really going to be calling or driving over to come see her. So Moni, I'm going to give you a slice of heaven for your berfday.

Here it is...

...Ain't Gold Grand Finale (Alternate Ending)

Nicole, Toots, Lani, Chuchi and Cora clasped hands at Cora's request. They stood in a circle, heads bowed, as Cora recited a prayer.
Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God's love commits me here, ever this day be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide. Amen."
"Amen," the girls answered, everyone turning to look at Nikki. "Thanks ma," she said.
"Anything for my baby. Today, the Lord is looking down on you and smiling, sweetheart. This is the most important day of your life. And you know you got the Good Lord sending an angel down to sit on your shoulder."
Nicole smiled at her mother and turned to ther sister. "Well, I guess its time for me to get dressed then, huh?"
The gown had been handpicked by Nicole from the Vera Wang Collection. It cost Rich an arm and a leg at four hundred grand but he never could say no when it came to his babygirl. It was a slinky number, and when tried on it looked like Nicole had poured herself into it. When she was finally in it, her mother helped her put on her tiara. She leaned over and whispered in her eldest daughters ear.
"Today is your day, baby. Make it count."

Rich was in the bathroom mirror conferring with his reflection as he shaved. "You a sexy nigga, man, you realy are. I mean, you always was, so there ain't really shit I could say like oh I remember when you was ugly, nah, I can't say that. You been fine since you popped out the pussy, you smell me?"
He lifted his chin and shaped up his goatee. "But today you lookin extra sexy. Can't nobody say shit about you today. Shit, you poppin tags like you designed that shit. I'm scared of you my nigga, I really am."
"What the fuck are you talkin about?"
Rich turned in time to see Mookie stand in the doorway behind him, giving him a concerned glance. "You aight son? You need a pill or somethin?"
Rich chuckled and rinsed the shaving cream off his razor. "I'm good. A nigga's all nervous and shit, so I'm in here tryna play it cool."
"Cold feet?"
"Ice blocks my nigga."
Mookie laughed and reached into his pants pocket and produced a little bag of sunshine. "I got the remedy, my nigga," he said, laughing.
Rich turned away from the sink and snatched the bag. Mookie made a couple of calls and within a few moments, they had a party going.

Upstairs, Nicole was freaking out. She had spent six months preapring for this day and now that it had come she was not ready for it. She stood in front of her mirror, wringing her hands, tears streaming down her face.
"What if he leaves me there? What if he's afraid to marry me and leaves me at the altar?"
Chuchi ran around in circles fanning Nikki's face. "Nicole, its going to be alright. You're just nervous. You're-"
"But what if something happens to my dress? What if I fall? Oh my God, this is all wrong. Somethin's gone happen, I know it."
"Nikki, it's going to be fine, would you relax?"
"I can't relax!" She looked at her mother and burst into a fresh round of tears. Cora looked over at Alanis and nodded.
Lani wanted to have an active part in the planning so Cynthia obliged and gave her a walkie talkie to be used in event of a crisis. This was most definitely a crisis.

Cynthia Weintraub took her job very seriously. She was not the type to slack, or give her client a half assed job. No matter how loud, or boisterous, or ghetto, they may have been, she was going to carry out her duties. They were cutting her some serious paper, and she was seriously going to deliver.
So when she knocked on the door of Room 303 (the honeymoon suite) she prepared herself for the worst. And she was not disappointed.
Cris cracked the door a bit, looked both ways, and when he was sure his visitor wasn't a threat, he pulled it open. "Yo, what up G-Ma?" he said.
"G-Ma? Excuse me?" Cynthia pushed her way inside, right into a blaze of smoke. Rich's eyes widened when he saw her because he knew the shit storm that was about to come down on his head.
"Mr. Knightley! I'm more than sure this is not what I want to see twenty minutes before your are to be married. You plan on arriving to your own wedding stoned? Look at these floral arrangements!" Cynthis fluffed a bunch of white roses in their vase.
"Ay yo, relax Grams, we got this," Mookie said.
"It's Cynthia. And didn't I give explicit directions that there was to be no smoking today? What is the matter with you?" Just as she was about to rip into them, her walkie talkie crackled.
"Cindy? It's Lani. We have a situation."
Cynthia's attention was diverted as she headed for the door. "What kind of a situation?"
"I think Nikki's having a nervous breakdown up here."
Her trot turned into a jog. "I'll be right there."

"Everything is in order, I trust?"
"We all set. We just waitin on the show to begin."
"Alright." There was a pause. "No fucking mistakes this time."
"Don't worry about it. There ain't gone be no mistakes."
"How does she look?"
Another pause, this one in the final trimester of its pregnancy.
"She looks good."

Mookie watched the tiny woman dash out of the room before he put the blunt back to his lips.
Then he removed a bottle of Chris Brothers from an undisclosed location and walked around so everyone (Rich, Cris, Tony B., and Ice) could tap the bottle. They did, and he poured a little poison for everyone.
"I never thought it could happen," he started sarcastically. "I always thought his royal pimpness would be single to the day he died, poppin his collar and shit."
"So did I," Ice shouted from where he perched rolling a joint.
"So when this nigga looked me in the eye and said, 'yo check it, I'ma marry her', ya'll know I had to clown a nigga. But you a better man than me, nigga. Just think: the same pussy for the rest of your life."
There were groans from all his boys at the thought of giving up their philandering. Rich smiled goodnaturedly and laughed right along with them. They could say what they wanted, but he was glad they were on his side. He looked around the room at the family that had held him down while he got established, loved him and all his flaws. They weren't just business partners, they were his brothers. Each and every last one of them.
Then Cris broke the mood into laughter by adding, "Just make sure you keep her and Shadow away from each other. We don't want no more bullets flyin."
Speaking of... Rich smiled and pointed, standing to find his phone. It was laying on the counter by the door; he grabbed it and went into the hallway. It rang twice before being picked up.
Silence, the same as always, greeted him.
"You know the drill."
He heard a button.
"You are coming, right?"
Another button.
"Can you tell me where you are?" Someone tapped his shoulder and he whirled around, phone still glued to his ear. He hung up when he saw who it was. "How the hell do you do that?" He knew she wouldn't answer but he had been asking her rhetorical questions for years. Why stop now?
He fought the urge to hug her, instead taking a step back and looking at her in her halting beauty. She looked so different outside of her usual darkness. Instead of black, she wore the exact opposite, an all white tighter than tight leather suit and four and a half inch red fuck me pumps. Her black eye patch had been replaced with a white one and her cleavage threatened to revolt against her with each movement.
Richard was speechless. He knew she looked good but he didn't know she looked this good. He choked trying to find the words. "Ah-you-uh-well. You look really good."
She nodded an I know and reached into the matching white clutch in her hand. He knew she had a weapon in there, knives today, and wondered where her gun was. Probably hidden away somewhere on her body. She was good for that. She found what she was looking for and tossed it at Rich.
It was a bullet.
Not just any; the one the doctors had extracted after Nicole shot her. Rich wasn't sure he was going to see her again after that and this was the first time he had seen her since the frantic wedding planning began. She tossed the bullet at him and he caught it, understanding the gesture. It meant she was back. No hard feelings, don't sweat it, everything's a go. He nodded and smiled, she nodded as well and turned on her heel.

Cynthia opened a jar filled with what looked like crushed lavender petals and shoved it under Nikki's nose. With her other hand she spritzed her in the face with some Evian and fanned her gently. She whispered soothingly in her ear.
"I just went upstairs darling. Richard is more than ready for today. He's not leaving you, he's not having second thoughts. In fact, he sent this," Cindy prodcued a white rose, "and said to think of him."
Nicole took the delicate flower in her hands and smiled. Rich always bought her white roses. She smiled harder and clutched the flower to her chest. Her faith was renewed at the small gesture. She let Cynthia finish retouching her makeup.
"Well, if we're all done here, I think its time for you to go get married!"

Nicole's goddaughter was the flowergirl. The five year old had her work cut out for her as she stepped down the all white aisle tossing pink petals to the floor. Toots and Tony followed, Lani and Cris, and Chuchi and Ice. Nicole couldn't peek out before she walked out, she knew her nerves were going to be jacked up.
She made it to the aisle in record time. When she made it, Rich and his reassuring hazel eyed gaze were there waiting for her. He smiled and took his hand in hers.
"We are gathered here today to witness Richard Knightley and Nicole Baisden join together in Holy Matrimony. For this is the most powerful of bonds, based on love, respect, honor, and trust..." the preacher began.
"Trust," said a voice from the back. "The most powerful bond."
Rich looked down the row of people and frowned. He instinctively shoved Nicole behind him. Toots made a move forward, but he motioned for her to stay where she was. Nicole tapped his shoulder. "What's going on?"
"Sssh, Nikki," he hissed. Something had to be wrong, she reasoned in her mind. He had never spoken to her like that before. She stayed where she was. Who was this man interrupting her ceremony?
"I trusted you, Richard. Trusted you enough to allow you inside my home. Trusted you enough to introduce you to my family. And what did you do?"
"Maxell, this is not the time or the place."
Cora turned, her hands clasped firmly around Alanis. She wondered, like everyone else in the audience, just what the hell was going on.
"Oh, I think so. You've caused me many inconveniences in the past year and it's high time you pay for your crimes."
"We are not going to do this here. Not in front of my wife."
"She's not your wife yet."
Richard didn't want this to deteriorate into what he knew was going to be a SNAFU of epic proportions.
"My daughter. And my firstborn. My only son."
"Richard, what is he talking about? What's going on?"
Before he could answer, Maxell whipped out a pistol and aimed it at Richard. Nicole shrieked and tried to make herself disappear behind Rich, she was beyond afraid now. Toots raised her trigger finger and pointed it at Maxell. Maxell nodded and Mookie drew his weapons, pointing them at Toots. Shadow was up and had her own gun in Maxell's neck before any other words could be said. As soon as she stood, Cookie got behind her. Shadow trained a gun on the both of them. Rich exhaled, exasperated. And now it was a standoff.
"Mookie? What the fuck are you doing man?"
"Sorry fam. Money talks."
"Money talks? You my fuckin brother, man! How you gone do this shit to me?"
"Again, this is where trust comes in. Now you know how it feels to be betrayed."
"Mookie you betta get that shit out my face, nigga, for I put on in ya eye."
"Shut the fuck up, bitch. Ain't shit gone happen to me."
"Rich, what the fuck we doin man," Toots shout whispered.
"Just tell them to lower their weapons and this will all be over with," MAxell said, still aiming at Rich.
Shadow was itching for this to be over with. She had had a feeling this was going to happen but she couldn't say anything if she wanted to. Cookie's hands were shaking.
"Cookie, you too?"
"Shut up Rich. Just shut up and do what he says."
No one knows who fired the first shot but whoever was meant to be hit that day was laid out. Toots made good on her threat and Mookie was dead before he hit the floor. Shadow let off two shots, one into Cookie's heart and the other into Maxell's brain. The guests began to scream and uck for cover, most of them making it out of the door.
Toots dove and tackled Nicole to the ground, protecting the girl as the bullets flew around them. The shot Maxell managed to let off skimmed Rich's neck, right under the tattoo of Nicole's name.
"Aah, shit!" Rich twisted and went down. He clutched a hand to his neck and that quickly began barking orders. "Toots, Shadow, get the fuck outta here, go, fore 5-0 get here!"
Cris and Tony hustled Cora, Alanis and Chuchi out of the church. When the shooting started, the had gone under the pews for cover. Cris found them clutching each other and crying.
"Baby!" Nicole crawled over to Rich and touched his face. "Are you okay? What happened? Oh, shit you're bleeding, let me see it, let me see it."
"It's just a scratch, I'll live."
"Somebody shot you Richard. Let me see it."
When the EMT's arrived a day late and a dollar short five minutes later, they found a strange scene. A man in a tux and a woman in a gown sat on the steps in the front of the church surrounded by three bodies. The man had a considerable amount of blood on his tux and the woman had some smeared on her dress.
Rich watched them jog up the aisle. He noticed Nikki's hands were shaking so he leaned over to Nicole and kissed her like he hadn't seen her in weeks. "I love you, baby, I really do."
"And I love you back. Who else would I go through this shit for?"
Rich smiled again as the EMT's came forward to see what had happened.
"Let's try this again in Jamaica, huh?"
Nikki rubbed his shoulder and lay her head on it. "I'll see you there."

(c) 2006
Jacki Simmons
All rights reserved.

Happy Birthday!!!

Happy Birthday post to my twin brothers, aka The Brats, who turn thirteen today. Now my mama officially has four teenagers in her house. Lord bless her.

Friday, April 14, 2006

Happy Easter

Here comes Peter Cottontail
hoppin' down the bunny trail
Hippity hoppity
Easters on its way!"

NO, I will not be going to church.
NO, I will not be wasting my hard earned money on gifts I can buy when they are cheaper any other time of the year.
NO, I will not be inviting family members over for a big Easter dinner.
YES, I will be curling up with a bottle of Scotch, smoking as much as I possibly can before Monday gets here and I have to masquerade as a responsible adult.

It's a celebration, bitches. Enjoy yourselves.

Thursday, April 13, 2006


Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Meme a Meme

Six Weird Things About Me

1. I still suck my thumb faithfully and I'll be nineteen in six months. I never dropped the habit and if I don't work at it, I probably never will. It's comforting. So sue me.

2. I'm a firm believer that when you miss someone, doing things they usually do will make you feel closer to them or will even make them pop up. (i.e. listen to their favorite album and they'll call...It's tried, tested and most of the time, true.)

3. I have to have my personal effects a certain way. For instance, my cocoa butter can only be used from one side at a time. When that side is done, the other can be used. I hate having finger marks in the unused side of the cocoa butter. Or hair creme. Or anything else that must be applied using the fingers.

4. I eat M&M's peanuts. Instead of eating the entire candy, I spit the peanuts out. I have no idea what that's about, I just know its a weird thing about me.

5. I HATE feet. I do my own pedicures because I am scared to put my feet where someone else's toes have been. I don't let anyone touch my feet, nor do I offer to touch theirs. If you wear my socks/slippers, you might as well keep them. Don't touch my feet because that is the quickest way to get kicked in the face.

6. I can smell Degree deordorant from 500 miles away in one part air and I swear, it makes me nauseas. Every time. There are not very many things that smell worse than Degree deodorant. Don't ask, this is my list.

In Hip Hop News

Proof, a member of the Eminem-fronted Detroit-based hip-hop sextet D12, was killed early Tuesday morning outside a Detroit nightclub in a shooting that left another man in critical condition.

According to a spokesperson for the Detroit Police
Department, Proof (nee' DeShaun Holton) suffered a gunshot wound to the head at the CCC Club on East Eight Mile Road, near Gratiot Avenue. By the time police arrived just after 5 a.m., the club — which was operating illegally, after hours — had been cleared out, but several witnesses have come forward to discuss the incident with investigators.

Mario Etheridge, a 28-year-old bouncer at the CCC Club, where the shooting occurred, is now in custody, according to theDetroit Police Department.

Authorities have not released any more details but said Tuesday that several witnesses had pointed to Etheridge and that once police started to make contact, he turned himself in. A warrant is currently being filed for his arrest.

Police said Wednesday that evidence indicates Proof shot first and then suffered a gunshot wound to the head around 4:30 a.m. Tuesday. He was pronounced dead on arrival at St. John Holy Cross Hospital.

Another victim, 35-year-old Detroit resident Keith Bender Jr., also sustained a gunshot to the head and remains in critical condition at St. John Hospital and Medical Center.

Outside the precinct where Etheridge is being held, his lawyer, Randall Upshaw, said that his client "has done nothing wrong, and I'm confident the facts will come out."

Upshaw said Etheridge is cousins with Bender, and added that the latter is on life support and has suffered brain damage. He said the focus of the investigation should be on Proof, not Etheridge.

The CCC Club is located along Detroit's East Eight Mile Road. A makeshift memorial was set up there Tuesday to pay tribute to Proof.

I didn't want to be believe it when I heard it, then I saw it and I'm still shocked. When is this crap gong to end?

Just Popping In To Say...

RIP June Pointer 1954-2006

LOS ANGELES- June Pointer, the youngest of the singing Pointer Sisters known for the 1970s and 1980s hits "I'm So Excited," "Fire," and "Slow Hand," has died, her family said Wednesday. She was 52. Pointer died of cancer Tuesday at Santa Monica University of California, Los Angeles, Medical Center, the family said in a statement. She had been hospitalized since late February.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

To All My Stressed Sistas...

For the final test, the FBI agents took one of the men to a large
metal door and handed him a gun.

"We must know that you will follow your instructions no matter what
the circumstances. Inside the room you will find your wife sitting in a
chair. Kill her!!!"

The man said, "You can't be serious, I could never shoot my wife" The
agent said, "Then you're not the right man for this job. Take your
wife and go home."

The second man was given the same instructions. He took the gun and
went into the room. All was quiet for about 5 minutes.
The man came out with tears in his eyes, "I tried, but I can't kill my

The agent said, "You don't have what it takes. Take your wife and go

Finally, it was the woman's turn. She was given the same instructions,
to kill her husband. She took the gun and went into the room. Shots
were heard, one after another. They heard screaming, crashing, banging
the walls. After a few minutes, all was quiet. The door opened slowly
there stood the woman. She wiped the sweat from her brow.

"This gun is loaded with blanks" she said. "I had to beat him to death
with the chair."

***Urgent News Flash***

My new favorite hip hop shit is 50 Cent and Olivia's Best Friend. Yeah, I said it.

I will not be blogging for the next few days as I am trying to seriously focus on getting out of this nasty ass mood. I will see you loverly people in a few days. Keep the emails and encouraging shit coming, I need that.

Made You Look

You may have noticed the various changes I've made on the site.

Advertisements? Yes, feel free to click on them. No seriously, click on them.

And the Map, on the bottom above the guest book? Leave a message and your location. I wanna know how many of you people read this and where you're from. Yeah, I'm nosy like that. Most of the people I know is from New York, so don't be pinning a whole bunch of flags to the NY part. If I know you from Castle Hill or Lincoln or Manhattanville or Riverton or Taino, I don't need your ass to remind me.

(Remember that shit by Busta, Gonna Make, with Janet? That song is still fire.)

Ok, yeah I think that's it. I start posting Don't Ask, Don't Tell on Monday.

Monday, April 10, 2006

Guess Who Loves You More?

Word on the streets is
you gave me this walking papers and well,
I wanna be the man my daddy raised me to be,
my momma taught me to be,
see baby,

Guess who loves you more
Oh love guess who loves you more
than he did girl,
guess who treats you betta than he did,
girl me
That's right me
When you gon see
Wake up and see

Lady, lady, lady
My darling darling baby
I wanna restore your hope
Forget about the past,
this things gon last
Oh (for the tears you used to shed)
I wanna dry them (when you tossed & turned in bed)
I wanna rock you to sleep the right way,
what I'm tryna say is

Guess who loves you more
Oh love guess who loves you more
than he did girl,
guess who treats you betta than he did,
girl me
That's right me
When you gon see
Wake up and see

My love for you can never be measured
(ain't no doubt about it)
girl I treasure (girl don't you ever doubt it)
and each day
my love multiplies for you girl
as long as far as time is on my side
I'm gon be by your side baby
You're perfect in my eyes
You're my joy and pride

Guess who loves you more
Oh love guess who loves you more
than he did girl,
guess who treats you betta than he did,
girl me
That's right me
When you gon see
Wake up and see

It's me that loves you baby
Honest to god I do girl
I promise you that I'll cherish you
I'll love you protect you, grind for you
Yes I will honest to god I do
Said I'll grind for you
I love you baby I cherish you
You'll be my lady
Nothing will break our bond
Honest to god I do
Have faith in me I'll have faith in you
Keep & swear that's how much care
Oh baby I wanna love you
I care for you, you never never
never never
never never
never never
never never
never never
never never,
never got to worry no,
in fact I'm on my way right now to you

-Raheem DeVaughn
MusixZone Harlem: Diary of a Summer
Listen to this album
Listen : Jim Jones , Harlem: Diary of a Summer
Free Guestmap from Free Guestmap from

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