Paula Patton is offended, are you?

In a recent interview with Women’s Health Magazine Paula Patton said, “I find [the term biracial] offensive. It’s a way for people to separate themselves from African-Americans….a way of saying ‘I’m better than that’.

I’m black because that’s the way the world sees me. People aren’t calling Barack Obama biracial. Most people think there’s a black president.”

Source: Necole Bitchie.com: Is The Term “Biracial” Offensive?

As a biracial individual I get what Patton is saying as far as how we are perceived. My mom, who is white, said that she sees Obama as biracial. However, I told her although she might see things that way, to the majority Obama is just another black guy.

In fact, coming from my personal experiences, most people when they first meet me assume that I am just a light skinned black person. I know this because people tell me this. They also say that after I open my mouth I sound more like surfer Barbie vs Boquweesha which verifies my “other” qualities. This might be because I’m educated, but another reason might also be because OMG, my mom is like totally a white lady.

I don’t find the term biracial offensive. I’d find words like mutt, half-breed, cross-breed, nigger, etc. offensive before biracial. Why? Because I am more than one race and we live in a society where we have to label everything. So if I had to choose, biracial seems the most endearing.

I can’t help who I am. This is how I came out. When I first meet someone the first words out of my mouth are never, “Hi, I’m Ms Puddin, I’m biracial and I must tell you this because I think that if you’re not mixed you are not as good as me.” I think that Patton has a mixed complex that she needs to work out. I have nothing to hide. My multicultural race is something to embrace…

Wait a minute, timeout. Is it that deep? Is this even worth a discussion? There might be more people out there who would agree with Patton and or are indeed offended. Therefore, I’m wondering maybe the term biracial is equivalent now to when black people used to be called colored or negroes? Or is this going to be something blown way out of proportion?

Also find this article here.

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 :)

Another Bald Headed Beezy

I first heard about this from the folks over at Oh Hell Nawl! Solange knew the paps would be outside to capture that fuzz puff. The least she could have done for my eyes was worn a hat or at least gotten lined up with a design. Halle, Amber, Rihanna, etc. hella women cut their hair short and made it look good. Solange looks like she didn’t even attempt to pro-style the edges.

I want to sit here and clown that mess of a haircut, but I kind of feel bad.

In my opinion when women cut all their hair off it’s because they are really going through something. Even Amy Winehouse’s beehive recently got significantly shorter. And we all saw Brittney with the umbrella and the I’m-going-to-eat-your-babies-bitch look in her eyes.

Solange posted something on her twitter earlier today about how she had too much to worry about versus her hair. And that she was just taking her son to school. She said that she didn’t get a style, because her intentions were never to make any type of trend or statement.

Honey, that haircut says a lot. That haircut says pay attention to me now damnit! That haircut says I don’t really have a career, I live in my sister’s shadow and I don’t know where my life is going. Someone. Please. Help.

Whatever she is going through emotionally, understandable, we all have our days. However, financially? Shieeeet. Her sister is Beyonce and her brother-in-law is Jay-z. Please tell me they couldn’t toss this heffa a couple dollars to go get lined up???

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

Reality TV Makes Me Feel So Intellectual

I haven’t had cable in my house for two years. Before that, my roommate and I used to have bootleg cable. One of our neighbor’s friends had a crush on me, who also happened to work for Comcast. He got to take me out for dinner and I got free cable. (I guess I got the better hand of that deal).

So anyway, we had cable for a year, until the 86-year-old woman who lived downstairs from us died. Just kidding. She moved out and our new neighbors, that we have now, moved in. When Comcast came to hook up their cable, they sure did shut ours off.

Now we don’t even get NBC, ABC, nada. Boo.

However, not having cable has been surprisingly good for my self-esteem. Not necessarily how I view myself physically, but my intellect level has gone way up. I don’t understand words like F@%&!@ or A@$!!**& or S*!!#@%&@H&6$*$^! anymore.

I caught a little of that Rock of Love show on Vh1 the other day and, I swear, (ha) every other word out of these people’s mouths was the F word. I watched Snoop’s show, Dancing with the Stars, The Bachelor, what else? I don’t know, but I guess I’m not missing much. I hate to say it, but with all the reality TV shows out there now, we are basically watching ourselves, and it’s not pretty.

Today I overheard some people who kept saying “Day 26, Day 26”. I’m like what happens on Day 26? What is Day 26???! Are we all going to die? Is Anna Nicole Smith going to come back from the dead and make another Trim Spa commercial? Is rent due early?

They’re like, “uh it’s the group from Making the Band 4, duh.”

Whoa! My bad. I guess I have to wait until they drop their album to get in on that conversation.

Btw, is it just me or do they look a little uncomfortable...

When you give a dog an interview...

Ok I’m a little late jumping on the get-on-DMX-for-saying-some-stoopid-sh*t bandwagon, but I had to point something out. Aside from all the other BS he was talking about in his interview with XXL Magazine, his last statement on us having a black president had some truth to it…

XXL: But it would be pretty big if we had a first Black president. That would be huge.

DMX: “I mean, I guess…. What, they gon’ give a dog a bone? There you go. Ooh, we have a Black president now. They should’ve done that shit a long time ago, we wouldn’t be in the fuckin’ position we in now. With world war coming up right now. They done fucked this shit up then give it to the Black people, Here you take it. Take my mess.”

Now I’m not saying DMX is so deep that we should all become politically unaware rappers, with a “ I don’t give a f*ck” attitude. It’s just so ironic that I watched Obama’s speech on race right after reading DMX’s interview with XXL magazine. “Here you take it, take my mess”, is some real sh*t.

Look at us, this country. It’s sloppy and filled with so much hate and confusion. I mean our inability to accept differences isn’t the only reason, but it is a big part of why our economy is so f*cked up. You would think that after all this time we still didn’t have to explain to certain people that for the most part, we all sh*t the same way, but we do. We can’t accept change. We are too superficial. We are too busy focusing on the race and gender of candidates, rather than the issues they stand for.

If Obama becomes president he has a lot of work cut out for him. Ha, but that ain’t nothing new…

Jordan's tongue ain't got nothing on me...

The ex, took the time out of his weekend, to let me know that my MySpace page is (in his opinion) stank/skanky. Why thank you, * stops and waves to the ex * I appreciate your concern on something so important as MySpace. I wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea about me based on my MySpace page! Oh no, because MySpace is such a big part of my life. * makes a face *

He also informed me that only Michael Jordan looks good with his tongue out. So let’s compare, shall we?

*sniff, sniff, sniff * I think I smell a hater. What do you think?

Two more days left to enter your pics in the Rock Star Challenge. Things are looking good! Once the contest is over I will get back to my regular routine of blog whoring, promise...

I’m In Love With A Porn Star

I have a secret crush on Jenna Jameson.

Scrawny white chicks with plastic double Ds are usually not my type, but she does it for me. Why? I read her story “How to Make Love Like A Porn Star: A Cautionary Tale” and it was surprisingly inspiring. I’ve always been passionate about reading autobiographical stories. Stories about the people who started with nothing and completely turned their lives around. And that is exactly what her story is. Jenna managed to flip her life from being a victimized, runaway, drug addict, into a multi-million dollar public figure.

Of course, since she’s a Porn Star her story is that much more intriguing.

I’ve have never seen one of her movies and I don’t intend to. Yes, I watch porn, but learning Jenna’s story actually gave me this incidental respect for her. She sure did f*ck her way to the top, but she has this business sense and drive that most people in that industry fail to obtain.

Maybe she also turns me on a little bit…

*Other autobiographies I recommend: Bernie Mac’s, “Maybe You Never Cry Again”, Sistah Souljah’s “No Disrespect”, (based on true events) and “Dreams from My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance”, by Barack Obama ( haven’t read Obama’s story yet, but it was given to me by my mother, it’s next on my list of things to read).

Ridiculously Good Looking

I’m lookin’ good these days. I’m turning heads, breaking necks and getting $1 bills tucked into my Oh Hell Nawl panties.

How do I know I that I am so ridiculously good looking?

Well, the other day at work this girl turned to me and said, “You look really pretty today. You used to be like kind of ugly, but lately you have been looking better.”

“I had some work done,” I said in response.

I’m sure somehow, in some twisted way, my coworker meant that as some sort of compliment??? Nine times out of ten, I don’t put in a whole lot of effort when getting ready in the morning. So it’s good to know on a day I took the time to shower, put on my face, smell good, brush my teeth and hair, somebody noticed. Sheeeit.

I’ll admit to coming to work lookin’ a little tore back, occasionally, but damn. She’s lucky I wasn’t suicidal, because she could have been the culprit for me going home and having a “Britney moment”. When I hear little comments like ^hers^, I tend to take it lightly. In my opinion, can’t please all the people all the time. I know if I really wanted to, I have the potential to look alright.

Besides, beauty is only skin deep, right? RIGHT!?? I know I’m throwing out a lot of clichés in this post, but honestly our society has a real misconception of beauty…

(Is she really applying make up to a skeleton??? Get that b*tch a chicken wing stat!!! Make it spicy!!!)

Anyway, I had a request for a pic of me “without my face all scrunched up”. Since I’m really, really good looking these days, I thought I’d go ahead and throw up a decent Puddin’ flick. I’ll let my readers be the judge of my so-called “beauty”.

For the record, the best compliment I have ever received was, “you’re pretty, but your personality makes you even more beautiful”.

Tell me , what is the best compliment you’ve ever received???

Somebody dipped into the Puddin’...

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Renaming Our Lady Lips

* Warning!! This post contains a high volume usage of the word VAGINA reader discretion is advised.

I hate the word vagina. Why does such an amazing piece of anatomy get the name vagina? Life is so unfair. It had to be a man who came up with the idea of naming an important part of the female body, vagina. I mean penis isn’t much better, but vagina makes me want to go out and give blue balls to any guy who disagrees with me. (Is there even such a thing as blue balls?)

Anyway, the two strips of bacon, guarding the cum dumpster is already a scary place to some. Aside from a pimply 13-year-old virgin, boy with braces (who I wouldn’t want near my twat in the first place), there are women out there afraid to look at their own kitty kat. If anyone hasn’t seen the Tyra episode of the 28-year-old woman who is afraid to look at her own cooch, please youtube it. There is also an episode of “Sex and the City” when Charlotte was afraid to look at her poon.

I’m terrified of spiders, but they aren’t a part of my body. How can someone be afraid of the same anatomy they popped out of and use everyday? (I’m talking about going pee people. Get your minds out the gutter!) The v-spot is such a powerful piece of equipment. Learn to love it ladies. Embrace it. Take control of your jerky strips! It took me a long time to realize that pussi has power.

Why are we aren’t we more inclined to get to know the monkey? Get a Brazilian, rub some oil on that puppy, spray some scented lotion and call it a day. Soon I’m talking meal tickets, diamonds, shoes, the ability to spend seven days with your head spinning around in a circle while shooting venom and getting away with it. Guys leave the toilet seat up and barely live to see another day. Woman can bleed for seven days out of their velvet treasures and not die. That’s impressive.

It just sucks that we have PC muscles and babies and all this greatness happens from a something called the vagina? Once we become one with our boxes, we need to come up with a better name than vagina.

Suggestions???

The ABCs of Watching Porn

Creepy older guy is at it again. No not you, that other guy…

Apparently one of the most recent problems in public libraries is “second-hand porn.” It’s not like second-hand smoke, because it can’t kill you, but “oh my eyes! my eyes!”

The concern is that since the library is a public place that serves the community, anyone can come in and use the facilities. That means any guy (girl?) off the street can come use the computer to download porn and whack off. There have been a few instances where officials have actually caught a man strokin’ his shaboinka in a public library.

Another concern of “second-hand porn” is from parents who want to filter the computers so that their kids don’t come across any unexpected pop ups. But if we start filtering the computers the next victim could be their child. Hey I’m just saying. Don’t shoot the messenger. And little Johnny and Betty Sue are going to learn someday. Might as well make it educational. I used to learn from pop up books. There can’t be that much of a difference.

Well, in the meantime, I’ve come up with a solution I think would solve this problem. The library should have a Champagne room. Why not? If we can give people off the streets a place to come in and get a load off, it might reduce some of the crime rate. Of course there is “no sex in the Champagne room,” only self-gratification.

And while we’re at it, why not go ahead and put a bar or lounge in the library too. Libraries are too quiet. Oh and a stripper pole. If there is a stripper pole right in the children’s room, it might scare the children out of the library altogether and we won’t have anything to worry about.

See how good I am at problem solving?

second-hand porn

It’s hard having nappy hair in a white man’s world…

I’ve never been the girl to complain much about her body. I don’t talk about my thighs being fat, my butt being too big or my stomach looking like a tub of Crisco that could be mixed up into a nice batch of biscuits. (Not that it could). I have mentioned on this blog an interest in implants, but if I ever get the money for plastic titties, I might end up buying a car instead. I’m naturally practical. * wink *

However, the one thing on my body that I am most self-conscious about, is my hair. Weird? Right? Well, I am mixed and apparently my black side didn’t get the memo that my white side sucks at hair care. I have what my friends’ would call, “nigga hair.” I mean I’ve seen worse, don’t get it twisted, my sh*t is not as bad as it could be...

but things could always be better…

I give props to sistas like Natural Muze, who wear their hair natural without hesitation. I couldn’t do it. I would be stressed out in the mirror all day, wondering if I looked okay. I mean there are a lot of hair care products available today. Everywhere I look, women have their hair whipped up nice. I just don't have the time or the energy to deal with my hair and then I end up in situations like these-----> for example ... I got really irritated at work last night, because of some guy I work with. He had the nerve to say to me, “make sure that you get your hair done by Wednesday, because um yeah...” (And he made a face).

Ok first of all, nobody asked you. Second, I was actually planning on getting it done today, but he didn’t need to know that. No, this guy wasn’t my boss. It was just some guy that I work with. And I’m not going to lie, my hair was looking rough last night at work, lol, but I don’t have time to get it done all the time.

The thing that got to me the most, is that this guy is black. Black guys should know better than to tell a sista about her hair. If she don’t already know, which she usually does, she still doesn’t need to hear it...

Speaking of being racist, crazy and sniffing way too much coke during happy hour…

Remember that one girl Adrianne Curry, who won the first season of “America’s Next Top Model," then later went on to be a reality TV whore and married that one guy from the Brady Bunch, Chris Knight?

Well apparently she blogs. Curry is boycotting BET because she thinks the network is “racist”. In a crazy-reality-TV-whore-nutshell, she wrote on her blog that celebrating Black History Month is racist, something about Native Americans should have their own month and television show, the gracious “Jews” and her being called a “n*gger lover”.

“Yes, I get it. Black people were slaves here once. You know what? That does suck some major balls, however, it is time to move the fuck on. Do we hear the Jews crying that they were made slaves for thousands of years?”

(Yeah exactly what I was thinking… I think Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. just rolled over twice in his grave)…

-Wait, I’m sorry Mrs. Curry, um err Knight? Can I call you Adrianne? I’m not sure how slavery can be considered to, “suck major balls.” I mean I agree with the idea that slavery does indeed suck something, because of slavery and racism the system is kind of f*cked. When minorities aren’t dealing with institutionalized racism, racial profiling and the self-fulfilling prophecy of our society, I would say they are sucking more than just balls.

Hold up. Why am I explaining this to you? Don’t you get paid to model? And when you aren’t modeling, doesn’t VH1 pay you to burp, fart and get drunk in front of billions of people? I’m just curious. I mean your good at it and I think you should stick to it, because comments like, “How dare we have Black History Month!” or “So, I will no longer tune into BET. This is going to suck, but I do NOT like the idea of having a channel for only 1 race,” are not gonna fly…

Although I’m sorry you got called a “n*gger lover” for f*cking a black guy back in the 12th grade, I don’t think Jewish people will appreciate you calling them Jews or confusing an entire race with a religion. However, I do think that giving the Natives Americans their own television network is a great idea! What should we call it, NET? Or would you boycott that as well?-

I don’t know but personally I think that over 400 years of slavery and oppression deserves at least one month of recognition and a television network. That is part of being an American, celebrating, reminiscing, and learning our nation’s history. Besides, there are more people who get their fifteen minutes of recognition, not just black people...

*please note*: I do not have any proof whatsoever of Adrianne Curry sniffing coke during happy hour. I also don’t have any clinical or medical records of Curry being diagnosed as crazy. And according to her blog, Curry is not, I repeat NOT, racist. However, from her description of racism I have come to the conclusion she is misinformed of the definition and concept of racism, which might in fact mean she is racist. Although Curry did shed some light on some important issues in her blog, her endeavor to express her opinion was displayed in a very tactless manner...

Thoughts???

Not my used condom, not my problem

My friend called me yesterday to tell me that she had a story for my blog.

“It better be good,” I said. “Because I only put top notch stories on my blog.” Unless someone is getting hollered at by the human projectile sprinkler or locking their keys in the car, in the ignition with the car still running, then it just isn’t up to Puddin’ par. I feel her story passed the Puddin’ taste test, so today I steal her story…

My friend E* (no not the drug) has six male roommates. One of the guys she lives with is this close to me sending his picture to Hot Chicks With Douchebags. His friends have even suggested the only two things in life this guy cares about are pussi and money. Not necessarily in that order. Douche actually has a girlfriend. Well not really. It’s this one girl he hangs out with all the time and they do everything a couple would do together, but I have gotten into plenty of heated debates with him denying her status.

“D* is not my girlfriend,” he will say, until he is blue in the (balls) face.

“Ok, ok she is not your girlfriend,” I reply. “You guys just cook, shop, eat, sex, go on trips, and spend every waking hour together. Makes perfect sense.”

I guess it isn’t entirely his fault either, because his not girlfriend thinks she is going to be the one to "change" his douchebagness. Not going to happen. Men don’t change. The only drastic transition I’ve ever seen in a man was Michael Jackson’s skin color. And I’m not even sure MJ is still a man or if that transition counts.

So back to the story, on Saturday, (when I was at work), they had a party for one of the roommates at a bar (go figure). Douche of course gets drunk and ends up bringing this hot Australian chick home from the bar and has sex with her. The next day at work, he calls my friend E* and asks her for a favor. This douche asks E* to go in his room and get rid of the used condom, because he forgot his not girlfriend is going to stop by.

First of all, if it’s not his girlfriend, what is he so worried about? And second, who asks someone else to deal with their used condom? (My posts are starting to get really gross, aren't they?)

“You didn’t do it, did you?” I asked E*. “Oh sh*t you did.”

“Yeah, I went in there with some chicken tongs,” E* said laughing. “It smelled like a boys locker room in there too.”

*memo* If I ever had to write a list of top ten things I would never do, going into my roommates room to remove the evidence of a used condom would be at the top of the list.

Opinion of the day...

"The sex in "Addicted" was boring because it was unimaginative. I would expect more from an erotic writer than that." -Ms Puddin's mother.

Opinion of the day...

The reason why my friends think I might be a lesbian...

"I just understand human behavior. You sound like a woman scorned. One who feels used by men because you allow yourself to be used. Then complain about it over and over until you break the cycle." -LT

hmmm being bitter is one thing, but eating box is another story. Thanks, but no thanks.

MsP

Do they pay you enough to make my job a living hell?

"All I've ever wanted was an honest week's pay for an honest day's work."-Steve Martin

I got a job as a receptionist for the summer. A quick pick-me-up from my last job. (I’m still in college, so I’m taking this as an opportunity to weigh my options and buy some more time in “finding myself”.) Granted I don’t do much, (work on my blog) but it is required for me to show up every day. If I do, I get paid.

Everyone here is for the most part friendly and it isn’t very often that I have to bite my tongue because someone else is having a bad day. There really isn’t much to complain about, the hours are reasonable, there’s air conditioning and I get to write.

Nevertheless, there is always that one person at your job, where they are this close, in getting a foot stuck up their ass.

I work with this very rude old lady.

No, let me re-phrase that. I work with a shriveled up, 80-year-old hag, who probably hasn’t gotten laid since 1972. I also think she picks an outfit out on Sunday and wears it continuously throughout the week.

She has been running her business out of the same office for the last 20 years, so apparently she comes with the building. I think her name is actually on the lease right next to ‘utilities included’ it says, ‘old hag’.

When I got hired, my boss made light of the situation that they’ve had problems with the old hag in the past. She told me that if the old hag gave me any problems to let her know immediately. I made a note of it, but figured I could avoid any mood swings she threw at me. Growing up with younger siblings, I have mastered the art of ignoring people when I want to.

Plus, regardless of what anyone may think of Ms P, I have respect for my elders, or at least I used to…

The old hag started off by making rude comments to me in front of clients, as if she were testing me to see if I would defend myself. She would ask me questions like, “do you know how to do your job?” or “didn’t they train you?”

In my head I would answer her questions, with a rhetorical question like, “when was the last time you got laid?” or “shouldn’t you be dead by now?”

I swear the nerve of some people, right?

I didn’t play into her stupid questions like she wanted, and it got old fast. So she moved on to just plain old torturing me. Asking me to do little favors for her, running errands, things she knew I wouldn’t say no to.

Eventually, it became clear to me that she was not grandma, but that old hag I work with and this was getting ridiculous. It got to the point where it was well beyond helping an old lady out. She needed to realize she’s not a celebrity and I am not getting paid to be her personal assistant. So, I talked to my boss about her “favors” and well it’s not in my job description, so I politely told her no.

I think her interpretation of that conversation instead was, “this means war!” “I’m still a cranky old hag and I’m going to take my life’s frustrations out on you!”


So the other day she comes up to me and asks for a long ‘pen’. So I handed her a ‘pen’.

“No!” she screamed at me. “Not a ‘pen’, a ‘pin’.

“Oh, I thought you said a ‘pen’, I said. “I don’t think that I have a pin though.”

She ignores me and starts riffling through the top drawer of my desk. Ok, by now I’m irritated, but I’m trying not to let it show.

“I don’t think you are going to find a ‘pin’ in there,” I told her.

“Oh, does it bother you that I am in your space?” she snapped back.

No please, dig away. When you’re done with my drawer would you like to look through my purse?

“This is my project,” she said. “Why are you trying to get in my project?”

Your project? Um ok?

“I’m not, I just don’t want you going through my drawer.” I said. “And I don’t have a ‘pin’, sorry.”

She looked up from my drawer, giving me an evil-eyed stare, before she turned and hobbled away.

You know, there comes a time, where Ms P takes a moment to step back and look at a situation and think, “now that, is one crazy bitch.”

Question of the day...

Why do all star NBA players think they are also rap stars?

http://www.wat.tv/playlist/586925/video/587229/tonyparker-Tony-Parker--Premier-Love-First-Love.html

Was Today Really Necessary?

"Due to the lack of interest, today was cancelled."


For some reason I was reminiscing a little of moments from my life, when someones opinion has helped not so much. I remember an ex boyfriend once told me my heart was shriveled like a California Raisin.

Thanks. That meant so much. Seriously, from the bottom of my cold, black, desiccated, singing heart, I thank you. I also once had a math teacher in high school, who told me my smile would only get me so far. Um, ok? Thank you, for that random psych session. I’m sixteen, misguided, bad with numbers and you’re telling me not to smile through all this pain.

Some people just suck. Why can’t all the sucky people, get sucked into outer space, by a big sucking machine and together they can just suck in their own suckdom?

If it's not obvious enough, I'm in a bad mood. If my funky mood had a flavor, it would taste like rotten milk.

Warning: anyone who plans on voicing their opinion to me today will get verbally attacked. I’m serious. I don't want to hear it. Back off.

I think it was yesterday that got the “oh f*ck me, no f*ck you” ball rolling.

Last night I polished off ½ a pizza, a jumbo box of Mike N Ikes and three glasses of root beer. I woke up this morning with heartburn, my period and a pain in my stomach.

“Oh,” said you, “her period, that explains a lot.”

You know what? This is not just PMS. This is a classic case of “when bad things happen to good people.”

For example...

I made the brilliant move over the weekend to go swimming with a weave. If anyone anywhere is ever wondering why black women refuse to get their hair wet when swimming, this is an understatement to say the least...

I look like a a potential love child of a Sasquatch and Diana Ross. So please stop telling or asking me about my hair. I know.

I would also like to add, (this is very unfortunate) the Blockbuster that is walking distance from my house, (even though I never actually got around to walking there) has relocated. Damn it. I guess the option of rolling out of bed in the morning and going to BB in all my sludge is out.

Since today sucks so much, I’ve made a list of today's top five most suckiest things(please, feel free to add to it):

1. your cat
2. speed bumps
3. the damn office phone that keeps ringing, even though it's my job to answer it

4. my nose, because it won't stop running

5. people who keep calling me to see what is going on this weekend. It's Tuesday, chill the f*ck out...