Hood Summer Fest 2009

So I went to a pool party @ the Clarion yesterday. * crickets * I know, that should have been my first red flag. I was lucky they even had a pool. It was a hood fest in its entirety. Clear plastic heels, fake Louis Vuitton and the guys came in groups of ten, dressed in plain white Ts with white towels on their heads.

There was a model contest. Let me rephrase that. There was a booty shakin’ contest. About 10 to 15 girls graced the stage (um box?) in their bikinis. Each one was announced by name and their hobby. I want to say that 90 percent of the hobbies had something to do with dancing, entertaining and possibly doing the splits.

All this happened within the first hour. I needed a drink. My boy was like, “Don’t trip, I got a bottle coming.” One hour later, in room 122 was a bottle of Hennessey, Patron and some cranberry juice. * side eye * I decided my best bet was the bar.

On my way back from the bar, I noticed some girl had decided to take a dip in the hot tub. She’s in the tub. Her fake ass ponytail was lying next to the tub. One of the 25 photographers at the party runs over, snaps a picture and then literally picks up this random girl’s hair and throws it in the trash.

OMG. Yes. This actually happened...

Let me not lie, even though I felt like I was cast in Plies’ next music video, I was entertained. And on the plus side there were no kids there and no one got shot. However, I knew it was time for me to go home when I found someone’s fake tittie (cutlet) on the ground.

Shout out to Big Dave Presents, Socially Flyy , QB Chronicles and BigBootyRemy for the photo!! You know I love you guys. All press is good press :)

Suddenly, I was in the champagne room...

As I’ve mentioned before, I frequent strip clubs because they are the easiest place to get free drinks. See most guys in the joint think that if they liquor up the girls who don’t work there, they might get lucky and catch a last minute amateur show. It’s usually a hit or miss. You never know. I have seen it happen, but it’s never happened to me. Honest. (See my halo :0).

The last time I went to a strip joint, I bumped into a friend of a friend. I love the male reaction when I bump into them at strip clubs. First there is the initial reaction of, “oh sh*t, I’m caught.” Then second there is the, “wait, what are you doing in here, you’re a girl? And last but not least, they second guess, “you don’t work here, do you?”

No I don’t work here, just enjoying my tax-free beverage thank you very much.

Anyway, I bumped into this guy who is a friend of a friend and apparently he got into his head me watching ass and titties was some sort of pastime. So he went ahead and called me up Friday night inviting me to a “gentlemen’s party” at the Hilton.

“Oh is someone getting married or something,” I asked him.

“No,” he said. “I’m just throwing a party, invite only.”

Cool. I'm special. I'm V.I.P. Sounds good.

In my mind I was naïve enough to think that maybe he was just throwing one of those parties where it was a good place to network, but half dressed women were part of the mingling crowd. No worries, I can handle that.

Or so I thought…

I get up to the 18th floor where he had rented a Suite. When he pushed open the door, it was like the scene from The Players Club when Eboney got beat up and raped, except with a younger crowd. Intrigued, I decided to stay. What girl doesn’t want to put herself into that situation?

There was a portable stripper pole in the center of the room that three dudes were desperately trying to readjust. Unfortunately from the look of the thing, one swing and any lucky lady might learn how to fly that night.

There was a bar, but it was old school house party style. Audaciously drinks were $10. I was too anxious to see how the night was going to play out to even worry about getting a drink.

I was also a little embarrassed, because I had invited a new girlfriend of mine to go with me. I guess I felt guilty because I haven't really broken her into the situations I get myself into, yet. Although, she seemed just as eager as me to find out what was going to happen next.

Every ten minutes or so, a handful of guys would saunter through the door of the Suite eagerly awaiting the festivities.The girls were hidden in a room adjacent to the Suite, digging through suitcases full of plastic high heels, bikini tops and bottoms and other bright colored accessories.

Eventually, the girls started filing out into the Suite room. They looked nothing like the Rock of Love/Flavor of Love girls. It was more like Phat Booty Hoes meets BET Uncut. Soon that didn't even matter, because it all became a blur of ass, titties, dollar bills and private lap dances. Rap music blaring in the background.

Wait, what the...how the...hold it. Am I in the champagne room? Hmmm, it's different than I imagined. This was definitely not the same experience as a strip club.

Why in the hell would somebody think that I would enjoy a party like this? I go to strip clubs to get free drinks not lap dances. Even if I did get a lap dance, this seemed like the type of crowd that was paying for a boner. Praying for a blowjob.

Um, I don't have a penis. I might have been sold if it was open bar. Otherwise, I have ass and titties, why would I pay to see someone else’s that are not going to turn me on because, I, like, dick?

The icing on the cake was when one of the girls turned to me and informed me that some of the girls were in fact performing in front of family members. It was then that I decided to make my exit. Parties like that should only be seen on VH1...

An Open Letter to White People Who Get Drunk and Think They Can Dance Good

Dear white people who get drunk and think they can dance good,



First of all, let me start by saying I feel your pain because I’m half white. My mom has the ability to bop her head, clap her hands, stomp her feet all on a different beat and still manage to be off beat. (Although in her defense she doesn’t drink and it takes a lot of coaxing to get her out on the dance floor). However, my mom’s nonexistent rhythm seems to be a trend among white people and I must put a stop to it.

I guess what I am trying to say is that white people shouldn’t dance. Ever. Just don’t do it. I’ll give you a get-on-on-the-dance-floor-for-free-card for weddings and Bar/Ba Mitzvahs, but the club is OFF LIMITS! Not only do I have to watch that shit, but it looks painful. Your clumsy drunk body being pulled in different directions all at the same time is really confusing and weird.

The slogan, “BEER: Helping white people dance since 1942,” is wrong. What it should read is, “BEER: Helping white people get drunk enough so that they feel the need to get on the dance floor and flop around uncontrollably like a fish with Tourette syndrome.”

The hopping up and down thing or jogging arms, kind of saves you white people, but not really. The thing is that you might wake up in the morning and not remember shit about being on the dance floor, but I do white people. I do. So please, for the love of the downbeat, please get drunk and mingle instead of trying to “cut a rug.”

Thanks.

MsP

Holy Pop Culture!

Haha. Swipe!

Ok where was this party and why wasn’t I invited???!!! >:-/


I'm just saying, can a sista get a table dance?

Sooooo, I have a confession to make. I kissed girl and I liked it. Just kidding. No really, I liked it. Ok, ok for real, my confession is that I think Miley Cyrus is kind of badass. I just wish she were a little older so I wouldn’t feel so guilty about enjoying her not contributing to society.

Don’t tell anybody I just said that either…

Well, if it isn’t obvious enough, I watched the VMAs. This is exciting news guys! I don’t have cable, I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

However, I watched it with a bunch of guys, which was a bad fuckin’ idea. All I heard the whole time was how thick Rhianna’s thighs are and how many Kama Sutra positions she is wanted in. It's bad enough the bitch already stole my man, now I got to hear about her sexy thighs? Ugh.

It’s cool though, because I have a new crush. Oh yeah, Christopher Mintz-Plasse, sexy nerd. You could be my McLovin anytme baby.

PS- I know I suck at blogging right now. Please feel free to give me a cyber slap in my comments.

MsP

Skinny Bitches Only Jog if They Can't Afford Surgery

I’ve decided that after thirty I’m not working out anymore. I’m just going to go and get all the fat sucked out of my body. I’m serious, I want Dr. Rey or somebody to take that big long metal knife and chop me up into little pieces.

Maybe also do some rearranging, like pull the fat from my thighs and put it into my ass. Then mold my gut into some kind of boobage/cleavage creation. That’s right. Get creative! Make me beautiful bitches! By the time I am thirty they will have discovered new ways to make me look like a ten-year-old on crack.

Until then I must eat right and exercise. I say this like I’m on a Jedi mission. Which is the only reason why when my so-called friend asked me to go jogging the other day I said, “yes”.

I don’t jog. Wait, let me rephrase that, I can’t fucking jog. It’s like the Special Olympics. I look like a four-year-old in the grocery store, when their mom just told them they couldn’t have something. You know and they do that run where their head turns into a bobble head and their arms flail around uncontrollably. And they whine, “but mom whyeeeeeeeeee!?”

Yeah that’s me, in spandex.

The last time I went jogging was at the gym and it’s been a few years. I remember huffing and puffing on a treadmill, when this chick like eight months pregnant hops on next to me. No really, not fat she was fucking skinny and pregnant.

After about 5 whole minutes of running I couldn’t take it anymore. My chest started to burn, I needed a hip replacement and I lost all feeling in my knees. And here this bitch was next to me just casually jogging for two.

So anyway, my friend and I ended up on this two-mile trail through the woods. All of which I probably only jogged a good fifteen minutes. The whole time I was thinking about what I was going to eat next. Three days later, my knees are still swollen and I don’t feel any skinnier.

I’m telling ya, I can’t wait until I’m thirty…

Picture of the Week

Man, so much for change.

I've been trying (not very hard) to steer this blog away from its usual debauchery, however, this picture was too priceless not to post and make a banner out of. I just had to put it up. I’m so deep and meaningful it hurts.

What were we doing? I have no idea. a) totally making out and getting hot and heavy outside the bar. b) cement wrestling. or c) we were just plain old sloppy drunk bitches who fell and could not get the fuck up.

Anyway, I’m trying to start something called 'drunktalk' on my blog. With that said, if anyone knows how to take video from a digital camera and make it youtube style, holla at me…

Debauchery and Dating 101

Ok I’m fired from dating. And I’m fired from drinking. I’m fired from drinking and dating at the same time. Seriously. Technically the events that took place last night were not all my fault…

First of all, my date (the cute boy toy I met at the mall the other day) stressed that he wanted me to save my appetite until 7, but was late. Since he was running late, I decided to go over to my girl’s job (a dive bar) and have a drink while I was waiting.

No worries, I’ll preserve my appetite with liquor.

Let me tell you, plopping down at a bar while saying in a bitter tone, “I’m going to cut off my vagina and sell it on eBay,” will get you a free drink. I finished my first drink and was still waiting on my date.

I must have either looked a) miserable or b) easy, because another guy came over and told my girl my next drink was on him. She suggested a drink since I’ve been so into rum lately. I didn’t know at the time, but this bitch gave me a drink with Coconut Malibu, redbull, pineapple juice and a 151 floater. What!? Let me tell you, me and 151 go way back and we don’t get along. 151 makes me feel and act like Johnny Depp in FEAR AND LOATHING IN LAS VEGAS. For real, the room is spinning and I’d like to get off please.

So anyway, I finished my second drink right when my date calls me. I tell him he might as well come pick me up since he is just around the corner. We go to dinner and I have a Mai Tai. Yup. Sure did. By now I’m getting kind of loud and honest. I’m seriously leaning over to this old Indian dude at the bar, next to me, (not my date) and flirting? Yes, fucking flirting. Gheezus.

After dinner I tell my date to take me back to the bar because I’m going to just spend the rest of the night out with some friends. He’s like, “no, I’m going with you.” Um ok, hop on cowboy, because it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

When we get back to the bar, my friend calls me and says he’s at the local college hangout spot. I convince my date (who is sober, btw) to drive me over there. We get there and it’s actually crackin’. There’s a DJ and we head straight for the dance floor. I start shakin’ my ass like I’m auditioning for a music video. Except, I don’t think I would have got the part.

Let me sum up the night:

I yelled at my date at some point to, “get me a fucking drink!” (Ah such a lady). After my date and I finally parted ways, I drunk dialed my ex. I hopped my ex’s fence. (AGAIN) And passed out on his doorstep. I woke up at about 5am freezing, wondering how and where and what the fuck just happened!

Like I said, fired.

Do I Look Smarter?

Well hello there blogworld!

Great news! I, yes I as in ME, Ms Fresh Banana Puddin’ graduated from college! Woo hoo! I know some of ya’ll thought I was dead cold in the gutter somewhere, my flask next to me dripping the remnants of last night, but no. I was finishing up doing something that took me little longer than most.

Oh well at least I got it done. Between large quantities of alcohol, weekend trips to Vegas and hopping over my ex-boyfriend’s fence, it’s a wonder I managed to finish anything at all.

Although, over the last few days I’ve heard enough speeches about “the real world” that I really don’t even want to be a graduate anymore. A “real” job? What is this? Who wants to get up before noon every day? Boo.

Any suggestions as to what my next step should be? Any fresh-out-of-college stories?

Did I mention I have theme music?

...because I do.

Caption This!

We got one of the go-girls a stripper for her birthday. What say you? The best caption I will add to my sidebar!!!

MsP

Where's Puddin' ??? II

Hint: I'm the only one smiling like a dumbass...

I Am Not Mad

It may be because I like shakin' my ass, but I’m really feelin’ Janet’s new song ‘Rock With You’...

A Hot Rocker Mess

The contest is over *whew, wipes brow *and I got a lot of great entries. As I flipped through the photos, I could hear AC/DC’s Highway to Hell blasting theme music in the background. This was definitely a competition. Ozzy would be proud.

I would like to thank everyone who participated. I had a great time finding these in my email and I'm sure everyone else will enjoy them too. You’re all awesome in my book! (Sh*t, I might even have to party with some of you in the future). So first off I’ll list the winners, since I know you are all anxious to see who won. Then, of course, I gotta go ahead and bust people out.

However, I think the pictures pretty much speak for themselves…

Babyface came hard with this one and won The Rocker Challenge. I’m not going to lie, he’s got some Ty-Kwon-Do-rock-out-with-your-cock-out sh*t goin’ on here. I’m impressed. Not sure if he is going to kick my ass or lick one side of my face.

1st place: I got to hand it to Lady Dreamer, home girl had the hair did, nails did and a cute ass top as she rocked it!

2nd place: Poca, Poca, Poca, * tear * I’m so proud, I taught you well…

3rd place: I’m not gonna lie, Bef scared the sh*t out of me, but I love it. I felt like I was back in the 80’s running around backstage at a rock concert, naked, when I got her photo…

Those were the winners! Congrats! However, it wouldn't be a contest if we didn't get to see all the excess craziness...

Apparently we also had a reptilian contest going on, according to Slaus, as Eb the Celeb and anonymousnupe battled it out for longest tongue…


Wanna has a nice air guitar goin’ on… damn guitar hero * shakes head *

Now some of y'all sent in your super cute ass kids, because you know MsP is a sucka for cute kids and sh*t! So there were two kiddie rockers… Lady Shay’s daughter...

...and lil miss Jaden...

That Saddity Chic and her dad rocked it…

Baby Kiki rocked it…


Amboogie rocked/laughed it out…

Mista swag rocked it… (ladies please note the pearly whites) ;p

Umm, not quite sure what So@24 was up too, but I like it!

The ladies over at Bloggers Delight and suite b rocked it…

J aka Senior Beige rocked it…


DMario had me rollin’, he definitely rocked it!

Jami, went to the club with some friends and rocked it…

LeonB rocked it…

...and karrie b was just dancin’, dancin’, dancin’…

slaus rocked it out...

I would like to give a special thanks to a Mr. Slausin Ass Slaus, from over at Oh Hell Nawl, for his two cents and other various contributions. I present you with a giant cyber hug...

Thanks again to everyone who sent in photos! You all ROCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Time To Bust A Move

Ok people, the weekend is here, time to go out, get crazy and start snappin’ pics! (If you gotta dig through your archive, that’s ok too). In case you need some motivation, here is Brandon Hardesty with some “unconventional dance moves” that might help out…



The Rock Star Challenge wants YOU to participate!