Would you rather...

...get trapped inside Kat Stacks vagina...

...roll around in fake blood at the crack house with Lindsay Lohan...

...or have a baby with Kelis?

Ms Puddin' Not So Fierce

There was a time in my life when I really thought I was Beyonce. It didn’t really help my situation that people used to tell me, “Hey, you kind of look like Beyonce.” Which somehow translated in my mind as, “You look just like Beyonce. You sing and dance just like her. Can I have your autograph?”

Things kind of got out of control when I started dying my hair blonde and walking in longer strides. However, over time my love for Beyonce kind of faded (she is way over publicized, yet still talented) and I began to realize that I look nothing like her.

The icing on the cake was not too long ago when I sat in the front row of a Tommy Davidson stand-up show. Um, big mistake, because for about an hour he went off to the audience about how I look like Prince. He even busted out in some Prince-like dance moves singing, Kiss and cooed, I Would Die 4 You.

With the extra, “oooo-oooo-oooo”… *hangs self*

Now people often tell me I look more like Melyssa Ford or Rosario Dawson. I definitely don’t have Melyssa Ford’s body, but I’ll take it. And as far as Rosario Dawson, I used to think she was ugly, until people started telling me that I looked like her. Now I’m like, oh hell yeah I look like her! Dayumn, that girl is fione.

Readers, who are your celeb look-alikes?

DIVAS

I’ve noticed VH1 has been bringing back some of their classic shows like Behind the Music and DIVAS. I was definitely excited to hear that DIVAS was coming back this year. Remember the old school DIVAS, Whitney, Aretha, Mariah, Celine, Diana, Shaka, etc? There was nothing like some top selling female artists, with the biggest hair ever, trying to out sing each other.

It would start with Mariah singing, “I’m every womaaaaan!”

Then in comes Whitney, “No girl, nah uh, I’M everrrrrry womaaaaan,” belting even louder holding that note longer than Mariah.

Then in comes Shaka, to reinforce what Whitney just did singing, “It’s all in meeeeee!”

And while she’s singing, Mariah hits that high note putting everyone to shame. Diana is just on stage putting her big ass hair in everyone’s face and Whitney is in the background doing the ‘praise the lord’ shimmy.

* sigh *

Those were the music days I remember.

I was disappointed when I heard what the line-up was going to be for DIVAS this year. Kelly Clarkson, Jennifer Hudson, Leona Lewis, Miley Cyrus, Jordin Sparks and more. Ok VH1, I’ll give you Jennifer and Kelly, but Miley Cyrus? * side eye * Miley Cyrus is not a DIVA, will never be a DIVA, probably wasn’t even around when the original DIVAS aired.

*throws hands up in the air*

It might be too soon for Whitney, Celine is preggo, but I’m wondering if Beyonce and Christina were already booked? I know our music is in the shitter right now, but if Miley Cyrus and Jordin Sparks are the new DIVAS, this could be the beginning to the end of American music.

If you want to check out DIVAS , its Sept. 17th, 9/8 central, on VH1.

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

Stop and ask for a GPS system...

*disclaimer*- this blog post has nothing to do with the show LOST. Sorry.

I recently gave my parents two options: they can either buy me a new car with a GPS system in it or they can buy me a Blackberry GPS. It’s a win, win situation. Just because they cut me off doesn’t mean they can’t but me gifts, right?

And trust me, it’s an emergency. I have so many old folded up mapquest papers in the side of my car door, my friends keep asking me if I run a secret escort service. That’s a good idea, but negative. I just have a really bad sense of direction.

And when it comes to stopping and asking for directions, I’m like a guy. For some reason I’d rather drive around in circles for hours, than stop to ask for directions. Unless, of course, I have to pee and then I miraculously turn back into a girl.

Actually, I’m kind of used to driving around in circles. I get to know the area better to prevent it in the future. So until I get a GPS system in some shape or form and you are riding with me, be prepared to take the scenic route.

My McDreamy

Speaking of men…

I tried to post this singles add on craigslist, but it got sent back to me. The email read something about inappropriate content. Humph. How can I put out there what I’m looking for in a man if the Internet won’t let me? Anyway, here is the ad, you be the judge…

I am looking for a man who is between 6’ and 6’2”and has a great sense of humor. He must be moderately good looking with excellent hygiene. I don’t like pretty boys. Preferably a Libra, but I will also take Gemini or an Aries.

Penis size should be not too big and not too small. If things aren't looking good in this department, compensate.

I want an educated man who is still street smart. I don’t care what business he’s in, just as long as it isn’t drug or ho related. MUST pay taxes.

Please no baby mama drama. If you do have A kid that is great, however, they must not be a whiny little brat. Preferably potty trained and if they act up I get the right to karate chop them in the side of the neck.

About me: I am a 24-yr-old bartender, who is educated, but hasn’t quite found her niche yet. I’m not desperate, just bored with it all and wanted to spice things up. If you are interested, please email me at (mspuddin [at] gmail [dot] com).

And may the best man win.

I Hit That

*disclaimer* - I have only done illegal and dirty things to Reggie Bush in my mind. Unfortunately, I have never physically had any real sexual encounters with him.

I wish that women could brag about their sexual encounters, without sounding like dirty whores who feel they have to run home to wash the stench of badussy out of their vagina's.

One of the guys I used to date back in college just recently got drafted into the NFL. I’m talking a multi-million dollar contract. He also just got married. I’m really happy for him and glad it wasn’t me he married. Honestly.

Although, whenever his name comes up, people always ask me if I knew him. Basically because we went to school together.

“Yeah I remember him,” is pretty much all the information I am willing to expose. I’ve learned to keep my sex life private.

Truth is, I hit that. Yes I said it. Actually, if I said it more like a man instead of a lady I’d say, “I made that man my little bitch. Had him screaming my name and everything.”

Ok I don’t know about that last part, but him and I used to GET IT ON.

Back in the day I was a football player magnet. I don’t know why either, because I kind of have a prejudice against them. When I think football player, I think Paco from Blazing Saddles meets Varsity Blues. Not all players, but most of them seem to use their football scholarships as a free ride from school and a tool to pick up women.

At first it was flattering and when I was younger I would take a hot body over brains any day. However, it got old quick and soon I started to feel like a groupie. I mean, pimpin' ain't easy for a lady. And since I’m not the girl he married and is sharing his contract with, people will just assume as much.

Anyway, for the record I am not a groupie and I still hit that. Jealous???

MsP

Single and Sober

I went to my friend’s engagement dinner/congratulatory party/death sentence on Friday and there wasn’t a bar. We toasted the soon to be bride and groom with sparkling apple cider. Boo.

Yes folks it’s gotten to the point in my life where if someone tells me their pregnant I can say, “congratulations!” instead of, “Oh sh*t, what are you going to do?” And when someone announces an engagement I have to show up and pretend to care. Well, deep down I do care. I’m really happy for my friend, but engagement parties and baby showers are not really my forte. I prefer something a little more erotic and captivating, with a bar.

There is nothing like a Friday night, mingling sober with other singles who ask you stupid questions like, “when are you getting married?” Well, you have to have something called a man to get married to first, genius.

Then I started to panic. Why am I single? Should I go to the Humane Society to start picking out my 20 cats now? (Naw, f*ck that, I hate cats). Could it be that I’m greedy klutz who has no idea what she wants? Eek! My disastrous dating past started flashing through my mind…

I remember this one time, when I used to date this one guy, (and this one time, at band camp) I was over at his house waiting for him to get off of work. On the coffee table there was a giant glass bowl of M&Ms. Instead of reaching and grabbing just a few M&Ms, my greedy ass went and grabbed the whole bowl. The glass crushed in my hand. (Stupid cheap bowl, grrr). M&Ms flew everywhere and my hand started squirting blood.

I called 911, but they wouldn’t give me any medical advice over the phone and it wasn’t serious enough to call an ambulance. So with blood running down my arm, I quickly picked up all the M&Ms and glass. When he came home about ten minutes later he had to help me get the circulation back into my hand, which had turned a nice shade of blue.

Another time I was dating this other guy (not at band camp) and right before he came over, fatty ate a whole package of red licorice. When he got there we got into this discussion of things we liked and disliked in the opposite sex. One of his vices was when girls threw up, it was a turn off to him. Needless to say, not too soon after that conversation, all that red licorice kicked in and I started projectile vomiting (uncontrollably) a funky red liquid all over him.

Oops my bad. :(

The first time I had sex with my ex, I had stuffed my bra with socks. Usually when I (would *ahem*) stuff my bra I’d do the quick pull out when nobody’s looking. Unfortunately that night I wasn’t quick enough and when he felt me up, he found my thick ass socks. (On the plus side he did end up wearing them to work the next day).

Dating sucks. So do engagement parties without alcohol. I don’t see what the big deal is about being single. I’m enjoying this thing called life people!

MsP

I still can’t tell whether or not the glass is half empty or full of sh*t…

Hope everyone is having a lovely Monday filled with rainbows, gumdrops, lollipops, blowjobs and a little tongue action. I just wanted to get a few random things off my chest and into cyberspace. For the most part it looks like I won’t be getting laid for a while and I still can’t find my panties, so nothing new really...

THE JOB- A guy spit on my lip when he was talking to me at work the other night. I mean you know how sometimes you accidentally spit when you talk? Well his landed on my lip! I think I’m dying. No seriously, it was gross.

THE PYSCHE - I’ve been having really bad mood swings and I think I might be a little crazy. I told my friend, “Maybe I should get some medication.” She replied, “If you need it, so does everyone else.” *Whew* I thought it was just me.

THE PENIS- Well I promised an update on the new booty. Not good I tell you. Not good at all. I got a call after the whole Playboy mansion weekend. That was nice. How considerate. When he got back he said that he wanted to spend some more time with me, hangout and stuff. So we set up for another date.

He was supposed to call me when he got done helping his dad move. When he hadn’t called I called him and there was no answer, so I assumed he wasn’t done yet. Well, he sure didn’t call AT ALL. The next day I called him and playfully said, “you stood me up!” He was like, “what are you talking about, on my moms (yes, he put it on his mama) I called you like five times.”

Five times??? PLEASE. If you called me five times and my phone was on, at least two of the five calls would have went through, right?

“Well how come you didn’t just leave a me voicemail then,” I asked.

“Girl, you know I don’t leave voicemails,” he replied.

Really, well you sure did leave them before. Ugh. Anyway, long story short, communication sort of fell off after that. I can say that I am disappointed, because I thought I saw potential in him, but I guess I was wrong. The penis f*cked me again and still no orgasm.

THE FAM- My grandpa is a G. After my grandma passed, he has been doing some serious traveling. Coming up this month is his 79th birthday and do you know where he is??? Ecuador and the Galapagos, traveling down the Amazon and sleeping in huts. Handle that grandpa. Handle that.

My mom is coming into town on Wednesday to take me out to dinner. I’ll keep you posted, because I’m sure she wants to talk about my health insurance and uterus…

MsP

Where's Puddin' ??? II

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

The village called, they want their handicap sticker back...

Either the guys I date are getting dumber or…you know what, I’m not even going to finish that sentence.

A friend of mine keeps telling me that I have to kiss a lot of frogs before I find my prince. But gheezus, I’ve kissed the entire pond, licked a lily pad (ok that sounds just wrong), accidentally made out with a crawdad and wrestled an alligator. My lips are slimy, I’m wet, cold, tired, possibly infected and I just want to go home to my honey already.

Humphffffff. * Proceeds to push out bottom lip and pout *

So I met this guy during Thanksgiving weekend. He is my best friend’s, boyfriend’s childhood friend (if that makes any sense). We met and hit it off that night enjoying each other’s company. I gave him my number, but later discovered that he lived two hours away. He recently moved closer to home, but still not close enough for us to actually go out on a date. So we basically pillow talk and that’s about it.

Here is the 411 on this guy: He’s ridiculously good-looking, (half black, half Sicilian) tall, nice, fun to hang out with (we’ve actually only hung out twice). Here is the catch: He recently broke it off with his fiancé, leaving her and their house, moved back in with his parents to “get back on his feet” (which is the reason he moved closer to me). He also around the same time got a DUI and has no cell phone. Did I mention he’s a nice guy? I know, I know a sh*t load of red flags went up a long time ago, but I think I was bent over kissing a frog when they started flashing.

Anyway, one can only imagine my surprise yesterday when he called me to tell me his car, which he isn’t even supposed to be driving, got towed and he needs $230 to get it back. Um, let me rephrase that, he was wondering if I had $230 to “loan” him so he could get his car back. I’m sorry, the last time we kicked it did I have ATM stamped on my forehead? No, I didn’t.

WTF??? Why did he ask me? Things would be different if he was my man. Things might have even been different if we had, oh I don’t know, at some point in time broke bread together.

Oh and that’s not even the best part. Does anyone want to know why his car got towed? This fool went and parked in a handicap spot. *pause for dramatic affect* He made it way too easy for me to make a remedial joke on his behalf. I think he might just need one of those handicap stickers to put on his car.

Please tell me it gets better. Somebody. Anybody? See why I was contemplating lesbianism? Nupe you might just get your wish sooner than expected…

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 F*cking Love You B*tch!

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Oh Hell Yeah!

This post is dedicated to the folks over at Oh Hell Nawl. If you haven’t been over there stop by, you won’t be disappointed. Without them I wouldn’t have a blog to stalk every day and sometimes flick my bean to.

And since I’m freakishly really, really good-looking, I was also asked to model some Oh Hell Nawl panties. Ok maybe I pulled out my Hello Kitty gun and yelled, “look at me! LOOK AT ME! I’m pretty! I’m f*cking pretty!” until they sent me some panties.

Oh, you thought I was actually going to put them on did you? Well, I decided to hold off, because I can’t wait to wear my new butt floss on a first * ahem * I mean, second or third date...

The Chick Who Offended My Vagina

Remember before the holiday when I got all mushy talking about a potential bisexual experience? Well the b*tch never called me. So all my curiosity about eating box flew right out the window.

Then similar to the time I had one too many vodka cranberries in a karaoke bar, ya know, the place where the fat guy slouched over the bar for half the night, suddenly gets up and feels the need sing ten Nickleback songs in a row? Yeah, that place. The same karaoke bar where I met (stumbled upon) a guy who later turned me into a pretzel and stuck random gardening tools up my ass. (Don’t tell me this hasn’t happened to anyone else before)…Well like I was saying, the chances of reenacting that experience is parallel to the fact that I bumped into the same chick at the bar Saturday night.

Coincidence? Maybe. Small world? I think not. Me drunk again? Yes, of course.

Let me just say for the record I was on fire that night. I had guys whispering things in my ear like, “Let me buy you two drinks” and “I like your weave” all night. I didn’t get any numbers, but I did get a couple of room keys. Wait a minute, now I get it. Damn. Ok so what I was dressed like a hooker at a pimp convention on 5th street and I watch enough TMZ to know how to correctly flash my vagina. (Thanks Britney!)

Anyway, the chick that hit on me a couple weeks ago was there and she was all up in my ass. No you sick people! Not literally in my ass, she was just jockin’ the goods. She kept trying to dance and rub up on me, while whispering in my ear, “damn girl your bad, your bad.” I’m sorry just because you have a vagina doesn’t mean anything. You got my number and you didn’t call, so stop rubbing up on me. I’m going to treat you like any other man. I demand an explanation! I’m a catch b*tch!

So she starts telling me her see-what-had-happened-was story about how she didn’t want to scare me, blah, blah, blah something about how amazing I am, blah, blah, blah. I know, I know, get to the point. Basically there was no point, so I brushed her off and she spent the rest of the night stalking me. Relentlessly trying to get me into the bathroom so we could make out.

No, I didn't go! It takes three not two drinks to get my shirt off and my tongue out.

At the end of the night she found me again only to remind me that she still had my number and this time she was going to call. I’m so sure and Ms Puddin’ has had gardening tools up her ass before, gah! It doesn't matter if she calls or not, I'm over it. I think I was just caught up in the moment.

So much for the vagina, it's back to the penis...

All I want for Christmas is…

...for the Raiders to play a decent game… 49 to 3 wtf!?...

...A digital camera, so I can do some more camera whoring…


...some booty, because my vagina is about to pack up and move to the Bahamas…


...good health care coverage for all my people…


...gas money…

...the Spears family to use birth control…

...VH1 to stop making reality TV shows…(unless they're hiring)...

...to finally meet my baby cousin…too cute!

H A P P Y H O L I D A Y S ! !

A Taste of Fresh Banana Puddin’

Ok all, this post might be a little different from what you are used to. For the record I am not trying to be funny here and I didn't mean for this to turn into confessions of Ms Puddin'. This is just something I am going through right now and I have to get off my chest …

I know that I joke around a lot about crossing over to the other side --well the opportunity presented itself Saturday night. I went out with a girlfriend of mine and got hit on by a chick. I mean but this girl was serious. She told me I was beautiful and that she wasn’t full on lesbian, but she was attracted to me and wanted to get down with the get down. (Of course if a guy spit that line at me, things would have went down a little different).

And don’t get it twisted, this chick did not have a buzz cut and baggy jeans. (Not that there is anything wrong with that). She sported some tight pants, a pretty face and long hair. I gave her my number. I do check girls out from time to time, but never in a sexual way, more so in a comparing the of goods sort of way. Checking out the competition.

Now I know what people are thinking, please judge me. However, first let me break it down and put something into perspective. Here is what I believe about women who experiment or cross over to the other side. I believe that when a woman has been treated so f*cked up by a man, she sometimes can find the companionship and love from a woman that man was unable to give, while she is trying to move on.

I know some of my friends read this blog and they are going to call me like, “Puddin’ what in the hell is wrong with you?!”

Wait please let me explain. I will never give up men. There is something about certain masculine qualities that do it for me, no question. But I am going through it right now in the dating department. I’m bored. So when I get bored I call my ex and he is an asshole. Period. I have verbalized multiple times how bad he is for me and yet I still let him have control over me. No he’s not physically abusive, but mentally he has messed my head up and turned me into this girl that I don’t know. I won’t go into detail of some of the things that he put me through, (trust me it is not worth the detail), but I am very insecure because of him.

It’s sick, because don’t get it twisted I get hit on, holla’d at, talked to and basically attacked all the time. People are always telling me left and right how beautiful of a person I am on the inside as well as on the outside. And it hurts because I go home, look in the mirror and think to myself, “I just don’t see it, what are these crazy people talking about?”

I know everyone has their own insecurities, but mine lead me back into the arms of someone who isn’t right for me. I’m always looking for approval from this man. I don’t want to change him. I’m waiting for him to change me. Deep down I know that is something I have to do for myself. When I am ready. And right now I just don’t have it in me.

So if she calls I am going to answer, but this is curiosity and temporary. I have never really seen myself going there. I could never see myself doing anything with another chick, especially that. I would never have the balls like she had to approach me and see what the business was. She even explained to me that she didn’t want a girlfriend. I don’t either. I just want to feel good about myself again and be happy even if it is coming from a woman instead of a man.

*This is a testimony not a coming out of the closet moment.*

He Called!

Hot guys don’t hit on me very often. At least if they do get my number, they don’t call.

I’m usually the girl in the club who can’t understand why the man who comes up to about my chest area, with a cocked-eye and just got off the phone with 1984 who apparently wanted their outfit back, is always the first to holla. And if it’s not him the alternative is usually a potential stalker or sugar daddy material.

Could someone please take the sign off of my back that reads, “I date anyone with a penis”?

I mean it’s not that big of a deal. I like my stalkers. They build quality self-esteem. Anyway, my point is I usually get hit on by weirdos or jerks. So I was surprised when hot dream guy, I mentioned before, called after two weeks.

“Why are you calling me,” I asked him.

“Cuz’ you’re hot,” he responded.

Sounds good to me. Here is the dish:

I go-go danced at some guy’s birthday party over Thanksgiving break as a favor. It was at a nightclub and since it was a favor, we didn’t have to dance the whole night. The girls and I got to throw on our party dresses and mingle halfway through the night. This was the when and the where of how I met my hot dream guy. He was a friend of a friend and after we got introduced, we became inseparable the rest of that night.

I remember at one point standing outside with him, when some big guy with a hoodie came barreling through the crowd and bumped into me. I hadn’t really noticed, but dream guy did.

“Hey you,” he said. “Why don’t you apologize to the lady?”

The guy kind of slowly turned around unsure if dream guy was talking to him. Then he kind of looked at me sheepishly and mumbled a, “oh my bad, I’m sorry.”

They shook hands and the guy left. Just like that.

I’m sorry, but he had me at “hey you.” I was impressed. Ok, I’ll admit it doesn’t take much to turn me on, some cheap porn and a happy meal, but this was new to me.

In general, I’m not big on pretty boys. Seriously, what girl wants to date someone who looks better than her? But there is something about him, he is a little rough around the edges. I can dig it...

Please don't stop the funny...

So I’m sure everyone has heard by now about the Writers Guild’s strike. Unless of course you are a reality TV kind of person, this probably has affected you. Or is going to affect you. I know I can’t go without my Grey’s Anatomy or Desperate Housewives fix. And some of my favorite female characters have been brought to life by writers…

Karen Walker: Will and Grace

“Martini, honey, and don’t waste any space with those olives!”

I love this bitch. She’s always dressed for the occasion wearing her expensive black designer clothing and hairpiece. She never fails to entertain us by washing her prescription meds down with a martini before 11 a.m. and talking sh*t about all the "little people".

Samantha Jones: Sex and the City

“The country runs better with a good looking man in the White House. Look what happened with Nixon…no one wanted to fuck him, so he fucked everyone else.”

Doesn’t everyone wish they could be a little bit more like Samantha? She’s a bold career woman who has a tendency to get what she wants. She’s promiscuous and classy. Go figure?

Christina Yang: Grey’s Anatomy

“You are eight feet tall. Your boobs are perfect. Your hair is down to there. If I was you I would just walk around naked all the time. I wouldn't have a job, I wouldn't have any skills, I wouldn't even know how to read. I would just be... naked.”

Christina is dry, bitter and has SARCASM stamped on her forehead. And thanks to WGA, her wit comes naturally, almost like performing open-heart surgery.

Gabrielle Solis: Desperate Housewives

“The only person more self-centered than me is Carlos, he's so self-centered he doesn't even know how self-centered I am."

There are two things Gabby does best, cheating on her husband and talking about herself. Sounds exhausting, when does she find the time to be desperate?

The reason why I would never work at Hooters...

I meant to post this last week, but I never got around to it. Thanks to anonymousnupe I now have one more reason to continue my ed-u-ma-cation…