knew I should've gotten that pedi...

Ever have those days when you doing so much it feels like your feet barely touch the ground? Yet your brain feels soooo slow? Well that's how this entire past week has been. But let me keep it to myself, nowadays there are plenty of folks who wish they had anything to do besides sitting home.

This morning I was a guest on the Food Network Show, 'Food Detectives' featuring Ted Allen. Sounds like fun, right? All the way up until the point where I realized that I would have to be up and out of the crib by 7.15am! Good lord, I am so not a morning person. So if any of you see me looking a tad crazy on air, this is my big disclaimer- can't nothing good come out of me trying to get dress and do my own hair and make-up before 8am!

Just FYI, the show is airing sometime this spring. Read: I can't tell you the exact day or time. But I will tell you that I'm barefoot in a kiddie pool...

i'll take your half if you don't want it...

Good lord, the pink toes never cease to amaze do they?

First they were shopping in secret and now that, surprise, surprise, this whole "recession thing" hasn't gone away, they've formed an anonymous support group for the girlfriends of finance guys!! No really, I'm not even kidding. I swear I couldn't make this up if I tried...

According to the NYTimes, the group of NYC women refer to themselves as Wall Street Widows and the name of their support group is Dating A Banker Anonymous. And in case you were wondering, there's an open invitation to any woman who fits the following criteria: “if your monthly Bergdorf’s allowance has been halved and bottle service has all but disappeared from your life.” Seriously? Just so we're clear, you're complaining about the change in a lifestyle that you've become accustomed to BEFORE you even got married??? Oh my goodness, that is so gangster!

The members meet once or twice weekly for brunch or drinks at a bar or restaurant to commiserate on how the plunging stock market and depressed economy have turned their former type-A, cocky, super human, richass finance boyfriends into whimpering, needy, erratic BROKEASS nightmares. Talking about, they're moody, up all hours of the night checking the Blackberry and wait on it- aren't exactly performing in the bedrooms. YIKES.

Good luck Becky Sue...

Reason #1,234,567,890...

I hear you on the mixed race, but if you ask me, Obama ain't nothing but Black.

When questioned about the noticeably more relaxed dress code in staff meetings (apparently there is a whole brew ha-ha about the President being photographed dong official work sans suit jacket), his chief-of-staff insists they're not being intentionally lax but apparently the temperature in Oval Office is hot enough to "grow orchids in there.” Talking about, "He likes it warm.”

Now Barack, you know, them folks in the White House don't know nothing 'bout that heat! All I can say is, Jesus be the heating bill after the first month of the new administration.

But it gets better... Turns our the Obamas running about five minutes late for all the events on the Inauguration Day was jsut a warm-up. Apparently, President Obama now shows up at the Oval Office shortly before 9 in the morning. For those who don't understand what the big deal is.. that'd be almost two hours later than Dub-ya. Um-hmm, Barack better be readjusting the start of the workday...

But don't let the haters get it twisted, the man also works well into the night- with aides reporting that he stays as late as 10p to review briefs for the next day unlike his early-to-bed, early-to-rise predecessor. So take that...

Not for nothing, we really, really love that the reason his day starts so much later is because he takes the time to have his morning workout — weights and cardio — read the papers, eat breakfast with his family and help pack his daughters, Malia, 10, and Sasha, 7, off to school before making the 30-second commute downstairs.

And what they're not printing (but we all know) is that he's also probably tryin' to get some from Michelle right quick too.... Okay?

I see you...

Don't get me wrong, I believe in the old saying: Beauty is only skin deep. Howsomever, while we're on the surface there are a list things that I'm just not equipped to deal with... Severe acne as well as a noticeable unibrow are definitely amongst the number. But for the sake of a good arguement, if I had to choose one, I'm going with the unibrow all day every day.

Why? Simple. I'm willing to gamble that like the 71%, I will eventually (read: long, long time from now) grow accustomed to the extra facial hair. Mind you, growing accustomed is a far cry from LOVING but at some point, I would hope, I'd be able to train myself not to oogle at my partner's never ending eyebrow. You know, the same way I trained myself not gag when I see pink toes kissing their dogs on the mouth. Feel free to gag.

Now the severe back acne? Not so much. I can barely stand the pimples on my own face and I only see that when I'm facing a mirror.

And in all fairness, perhaps the 28% who opted for severe back acne are just more concerned with public perception than I- afterall, there's really no way to escape your crew's clowning (and you know they will) when the mess is smack dab on the middle of the face. And thanks to Facebook, it ain't just your peeps that'll be leaving comments about you and your 'interesting' looking boo...

Yet and still, I'll still take my chances with the peanut gallery. Cause I know me, and I have a serious issue with picking. Mmm-hmm, I ain't never seen a pimple I ain't wanna pop. Lord knows, if I see a whole bunch of blackheads on my man's back what will happen. It might get real primative... And even if I'm able to control my urge to dig all up in his skin, there's always the first time I run my hand along his back and it inadvertantly bust a bump. Oh. God. Ooze stains on my 600 thread count sheets?? EEEWWA, it's a wrap. Like forreal, forreal.

Love you more than cooked food but you gots to get the hell out not now, but RIGHT NOW.

the bigger the bark...

Question: why do owners of small and minature dogs think its appropriate to stand by and watch their pet attack a larger dog?

Every time I take Drama for a walk through the park, somebody's little foo foo dog comes running up to growl and snap at her. Luckily, Drama could care less about other dogs so for the most part we just keep walking and eventually the little mo-fu will get tired and return to its owner. No harm, no foul. (Of course, there was this minature Yorkie that nipped her nose and drew blood... I won't get into the specifics of what I promised the owner would happen if her pissant dog ever came near us again but let's just say, it hasn't happened since.)

So lemme tell you, my neighbor Glaydys owns two minature chihuahuas, Ruby and Brownie; as well as two pitbulls, Mindnight and Hannibal. (I know, I know it's a lot but try not to get sidetracked with the details.) Anyhoo, Ruby hates Hannibal. Like, every single time Hannibal walks near by her little basket/ home, she jumps up, loses her little mind and attacks his legs, tail, nose, or whatever else she can reach. It's a mess.

For the record, on numerous occasions I've warned Glaydys about letting Ruby run amuck. But everyone in the apartment laughs me off because she's so tiny and Hannibal doesn't pay her any mind.

Well you know what they say- all good things must come to an end.

I guess Hannibal was in a bad mood last night and finally snapped back. Don't you know he grabbed her up by the neck, shook her around and tossed that little ass straight across the room. Mmm-hmm, just like that. There was no blood drawn but poor thing was shaking leaf for at least an hour afterwards.

Now you know... if you have a little nosiemaker for a pet, you better act like you love it. Cause they can get it.

doo-doo brown...

Why am I being held hostage by UPS?? No, seriously, I'm not even playing with you. Any other day, when I'm NOT expecting a package, this dude is ringing me bell off the hook at 9.01am. But just because I'm expecting something important- and really need to get it no later than today- he's a straight no-show. I swear this fool is gonna drive me to drink. Jerk.

may I offer you some Mitchum...

Oh Lord, the things I get myself into...

This weekend, I let Angela convince me to take a bikram yoga class with her and her hilarious daughter, Iyana. Please don't ask why. Because if there are one thing that I know about myself, it's that I have a very sensitive sense of smell. So you already know... 90 min in a 110 degree room with a bunch of scantily clad strangers? Jesus be a stick of extra strong deodorant.

But you know what? Wonders of all wonders, I LOVED it!

Don't get it twisted, the smell is no joke. Like, my eyes watered from the moment I entered the building. It took me at least 10 minutes to stop gasping for breath. Even the waiting area stunk of stale arm pitt funk. And please believe I NEVER got to the point where I didn't smell the odor. I don't know if it was the humidity in the air, the moist carpeting in the studio or the dude next to me whose sweat beads popped off of his entire body like shooting bullets but it was a lot.

However, I had such a good time attempting all the crazy positions- have you ever tried to wrap your arm around your back and into your inner thigh?- that it wasn't until the last five minutes that I started to feel worn out. I'd say, right around the time the water in my bottle started to taste lukewarm. Yeah, actually that was also kinda gross now that I think about it...

But I digress. Big picture: it was dope. So thank you Ang. I am so ready to go again.

I'm telling you, 2009 is about to be a big year... First, the inauguration and now bikram yoga? It's about to go down.

get it together....

Ummmm, hello kind people. Question: did you vote in the latest poll on the site? Umm-hmm, just what I thought. You do know I change it twice a week, don't you? Okay then, so go on and make the mitzimoments magic happen. Like now.

Don't be lazy (yes Angela, I'm talking to you). Click through to the blog and let your opinion be heard. Forreal, forreal I'm dying to find out what you think about the crazy questions! Yes, I am that nosey.

Perfect example: I'll bet you wouldn't have guess that 80% of you have willingly done something sexually you regretted afterwards. Mmm-hmmm, that many!

Luckily, between growing up in the full on 'No Means No' / 'You Give Me The Uh-Oh Feeling' era and my very clinically correct mother, I have always been very comfortable with my sexuality. So like the 20% who answered no, I've never had a problem saying no to anything that might make my nerves bad in the morning. Peer or partner pressure be damned.

But hey, you learn something new every day. And I'm so sure the bunch of ya'll won't ever, never be doing whatever that was again, right? So there. Fresh start. And look, just in time for the next poll...

can't get it back...

I woke up this morning feeling kinda out of sorts. Prob had a lot to do with the fact that I didn't manage to fall asleep (alone, unfortunately) until almost 3am. So instead of jumping headfirst into the day, I decided to read the latest issue of EW (with Heath Ledger on the cover) that I snagged out of my mailbox upon my return from DC.

Now I gotta tell you. I'm not really the one to obsess over white men. Like, I can tell if he's good looking or not (I've got eyes in my head, don't I?), but beyond that... eh, not so much. Pinktoe juice just doesn't get my heart rate pumping like a good old fashion cup of hot chocolate- ya feel me?

But Heath Ledger? Now that whiteboy right there was DOPE.

I can remember peeping him out ever since 10 Things I Hate About You. And who can forget how adorable he was in A Knight's Tale? Even when he was creating a new term for being closeted (as in, 'Girl you know that negro is straight Brokeback!'), don't act like you couldn't understand why old girl really, really wanted to pretend like she didn't understand what those "camping trips" were about.

And the bestest part? Heath's looks didn't even begin to top his acting ability. He was truly one of the most talented young actors in Hollywood. From beginning to end, he would work a character OUT. Lords of Dogtown? The Dark Knight? Need I say more?

It's still so heartbreaking to me that he died before even turning 30. Crazy.

i was there...

I'm baaaaack! OMG, what an AMAZING, LIFE CHANGING experience being in DC over this inaugural weekend was for me and everyone that I know. Everyone was so joyfull. I swear it felt like one of those jumping Easter Sunday sermons sans the big colorful hats. Priceless.

And I really have to thank my BFF Nikki. Not only did she host my stay and roll with me to several different events every night of the weekend (my feet may never ever, ever completely recover), but her dad hooked us up with a pair of tickets. Go Georgie! So praise Jesus, I didn't have to be out there in the dark at 4.30am throwing bo's in an open field for a halfway decent view of the Jumbotron (instead we left at 6.15am and ended up standing in the bushes with a straight shot of the Capitol).

Unfortunately, we didn't last long enough to see the parade... the fingers, toes and face were just too cold. But I watched and analyzed every second of the CNN and MSNBC coverage to the point where I might as well have been there. Can I get an amen?

On the low, I could probably watch the Obamas every day for the rest of my life. Kinda like that movie featuring Jim Carrey where he unknowingly lives his entire life on the set of a television show? I'm claiming it, I'm officially addicted.

Happy MLK Day...

Okay naturally of all the things I could've forgetten to pack, the cable cord for my camera is the one. So there won't be any pictures of the weekend until I get back. But I will tell you this: Contrary to all the media forcasts, DC is NOT a madhouse.

BUT what the media isn't telling you is- we are having a FANTABULOUS time. I mean, the folks are out in every shape, color, and possible length of fur coat. And everyone is HYPE. It sounds super corny but the air feels electric witht he anticipation.

Every time we drive past the Capitol building, I catch my breath. Of course, that could be the trobbing in my meet from all the dancing that I've been doing as well... Regardless,it's all worth it. this is so much better than I could've imagined.



YES. WE. DID.

our MLK moment...

Ummm, why is it always so hard to get ready to go out of town?

It's not like, I didn't know that I was going to DC for the inaguration all of ten seconds after CNN declared Obama's victory... Yet and still here I am the day before I leaving running around like a chicken with out a head.

I am so EXCITED. I cannot believe that I am alive to witness a Black man become the President of the United States. I swear to God, this is bigger than the day the video for Thriller premiered on channel 5. When I think back over the past two years... all the anticipation before he finally declared, all the naysayers who were concerned that he didn't have enough experience, Jeremiah Wright, Hillary Clinton, damn Sarah Palin.... my god. But we made it.

And now I'm off to handle the nails and hair (cause we all know Barack doesn't want me in DC without my hair did). Hopefully, I'll see some of you guys there... If not, be sure to look for me on CNN in the middle of the masses in somewhere near the front but not too far from the back. I'll be the short chick with the big hair losing her mind and falling out as if I've won the lotto.

may lightening strike...

I swear 'fo God, I will never, ever, ever, ever talk about Black people and the names they give (or rather make-up for) their kids again. NEVER.

'Cause you know what? Ain't nothing wrong with the name Alexus Camry Laquanna Shalamieka Brown compared to JoyceLynn ARYAN NATION Campbell. Mmhmmm, you read that correctly- JoyceLynn Aryan Nation Campbell is the forreal, forreal government name of some unfortunate white child.

Blame it on the pesky pinktoe sense of entitlement, but Mr. & Mrs. Campbell didn't have a problem naming her or her two brothers-Adolf Hitler Campbell and Honszlynn Hinler Campbell- after murderers and racist institutions. Five bucks say not nary a one will ever hold a government job...

But no worries, apparently because of the blatantly racist overtones of the kids' names, the parents/ family landed on the Child Protective Services shit list. Go figure. And the other day, the kids were snatched out of the home for reasons yet divulged. Just like that.

Lemme find out all that legal eavesdropping on citizens that George Bush came up with turned out to be good for something...

the more things stay the same...

Question- do Black people really date? Oh yeah? I don;t know, I'm not always convinced...


I vividly remember back in the day when I lived in CT and attended a primarily white school. Any number of my female white classmates, would go out of these mythical "dates" with a Tom on Friday, meet-up with Dick after the hockey game on Sat and then study with Harry on Wednesday. And wonders of all wonders, everyone knew about it on Monday. But none of the three guys was remotely upset or even called her a slut-bag because she was what? DATING. And god bless her heart, she wasn't required to be exclusive and chose to see as many guys as a weekend could hold.

Now take that same scenerio amongst the African -American students. Let's say Shaniqua kicked with Tyrone on Friday, hung out with DaQuan at the roller rink on Sat and met up with Marcell on Sunday after church. And same way, by Monday morning everyone would know. BUT, in this case the ENTIRE school would be calling her a two-bit trick. By the Monday afternoon, Tyrone would've beat Daquan ass and gotten suspended for two weeks. Then after the final bell rang, Marcell's two sisters (that went to the other high school across town for juvenile deliquents) would've arrived to cuss poor Shaniqua out for trying to be cute and playing their baby brother out.

Laugh all you want, you know I'm right.

So now fast forward a bit and tell me this... is it because of the aforementioned unspoken but widely accepted black dating rule that the majority of us are conditioned to deal with only one person at a time? And more depressingly, even as supossedly mature adults we continue to behave like we OWN (lock, stock and shackled) every person we've ever dated years after the break-up?

It must be. Cause this the ONLY rational reason that I can conjur up with to explain why 60% of you would get pissed off if a JUMP-OFF decided to seriously date your friend.

Forreal, forreal? That wasn't your soulmate... that's an individual that you had sex with during creep hours. You know, the one that you wouldn't bother to call because a simple 'What's good?' text was more than enough to get the party started. Mmm-hmmm. So then tell me, how in the world do you earn the right to feel aways because they genuinely like your friend and want to date her/him? Uh-uh save your breath. I don't care how you wanna spin it, you're a hater.

Or maybe I grew up around too many pinktoes... Because I'm so with the 39% who could give a crap what a booty buddy does after I'm finished with the situation. I've have always believed in the throwaway theory- one woman's trash is another woman's treasure. There is no need to hoard any of the eligible jump-offs in the world. If he's worth the trip across town, you really only need one at a time anyway.

Besides, I'm too busy trying to meet my Mr. Right. With any luck, dating you will keep that fool from texting me again. Okay?

just can't see it...

Every once in a while, I'll hear about a crime that is so unbelievably heinous it makes me physically ill. And this comes from the mouth of an admittedly jaded New Yorker, so you know.

And although I've never been the free-wheeling death penalty advocate, there are certain instances where I wholeheartedly believe some folks just need to go back to God and stage a do-over on life. You know, not just for me and society but really, for their own good. And err-um, Andre Thomas... It's your time dude.

First, back in March 2004 this fool confessed to stabbing his estranged wife, their young son and her 13-month-old daughter to death. Mind you, he also ripped out all of their hearts. Yeah, as in cut open and pulled out.



Then while awaiting trial, Mr. Thomas yanked out his left eye out of the socket. Yes sir, pulled that mo-fu OUT with his own hands. Sick yet?

No? Well how 'bout this- Apparently last week the deranged psycho finally finished the job. He snatched out his remaining eye and ATE that shit. READ: chewed and swallowed it.

Po-po said that when they finally found him, dude's face was COVERED in blood (feel free to insert image of me screaming my own head off as I read this).

Mmm-hmmm, barf bags are located in the seat pockets directly in front of you.

But the best part? It's only NOW that the authorities want to send this looney tune to a mental institution. So lemme get htis straight? Ya'll JUST now realized his was mentally ill? Uh-uh. Forget the war, we gonna need education reform RIGHT NOW. Cause the people in charge are beyond stoopid.

I mean, at this point we can forget the padded room. They need to special order rush that ass to the electric chair! I dare you to find ONE person who won't co-sign on a take-two. Shiiieeet. GOOD LUCK.

not you...

Um, WHY did the Mayor of Baltimore just get indicted on 12 counts of accepting illegal gifts, four counts of perjury and two counts of theft over $500? Seriously? 8 measly days away from the first Black President being sworn into office and THIS is what you wanna do Sheila Dixon?

Talking about, "I am being unfairly accused. Time will prove that I have done nothing wrong, and I am confident that I will be found innocent of these charges."

Yeah, yeah, yeah, we already know the story S-Boogie. They set you up. They MADE you take the gifts. Umm-hmm, okay Mayor Berry... I mean Dixon. My bad. I dont know why I keep getting the names of all the crackhead Mayors mixed-up like that. So sorry.

Can I tell you? Initially, in the spirit of having hope and believing in change, I really, really wanted to belileve that there was a misunderstanding. But once I read the list of 'gifts': fur coat, travel and multiple gift certificates for an XBox, PlayStation2, camcorder and clothes... Fur coat and an Xbox? Man listen, lock that trick up under the jail.

I swear, this is just further proof that everybody ain't gonna make it into the promiseland.

1,2, 3, no backsies...

I promise you, I have some of the BESTEST ex-boyfriends in the world. Like I always say, as soon I end a relationship, shit just comes together for the dude. Out of nowhere they all transform into these intelligent, caring, mature MEN. You know, the great guys who are always willing to lend a hand or listen when you need to vent? Suddenly, they want to share and confide. Mind you, wasn't nary of this generousity or openess in effect during the time we were officially 'girlfriend and boyfriend.' But you know why, right? Keyword: END.

Uh-huh, its heartbreaking but the majority of negros gots to have their toys taken away before they can figure out how to play nice.

So it makes sense why 40%, can envision yourselves getting married to an ex if he were to show up on the doorstep with ring RIGHT NOW. Afterall, when they're not pissing you off on a regular basis, the potential that attracted you to them initially becomes visible again. And not for nothing but after all that work you done put it? Shaping and molding that fool? Yeah, I can see how that might could be the golden ticket.

But after careful thought, I'm rolling with the 60% who have absolutely no interest in marrying any of my exs that are still available if they showed up on the doorstep. No sir. It ain't that damn easy. And you and I BOTH know that as soon as you start laying up under me again the tomfoolery will commence. And bigger than the fact that NO ONE will remotely feel sorry for you ('cause you should've known better), I'm just not interested. No thank you.

Call it what you want but I prefer my exs kissing my ass than being my lawfully wedded pain in the ass.

good for you...

I see I'm not the only one who doesn't like it when people show up at my apartment unannounced...

Apparently,a panda bear bit the crap out of a man who jumped in his pen to retrieve a toy that had fallen over the railing at the Beijing Zoo. Daaaammmmn... I thought panda were suppossed to be friendly, social-type creatures.

But bigger than the panda with an attitude, WHY was this man able to simply HOP a little fence?? What in the world? WHY was the fence that low?

And please don't tell me it's so people can get up close and personal with nature. Cause THAT is not nature. Not even on a dare. THAT is a wild animal that's been caged up AGAINST it's will for our amusement. What would make you think they're remotely happy to see you? Mmm-hmmm, like ELsa used to tell me- keep playin' if you want to.



Personally, my scary behind will take a good ole American zoo with triple layers of plexiglass and the sky-high electric fence enclosure with enough voltage to shock that ass to death if a strand of hair brushes against it any day of the damn week. If and when I want so see some "nature" I'll go chill in Central Park and watch the shirtless white boys play football in the dead of winter. That's enough wildlife for me, thank you very much.

damn indian-givers...

Okay Dr. Richard Batista, you listen up. I don't know what kinda God-complex you're working with over there in Long Island but just in case no one around you has the god-given COMMONSENSE to keep it real with you, let me be the first.

Here is what you will NOT, I repeat, you WILL NOT be doing in 2009: Suing your ex-wife to get back the kidney that you donated to her while you two were married. NO SIR, not today, tomorrow or EVER, EVER.

Just because your ex-wife had an affair, it does not entitle you to have your kidney back. Be clear, I ain't saying the cheating wasn't messed up. Especially after you basically saved her life and whatnot but forreal, forreal? You need to get it TOGETHER.

This ain't no freaking playground. You can't get mad and snatch back your toys cause your little feelings got hurt. IDIOT.

Even if I wasn't a transplant survivor (which I am), I'd be sucking my two front- teeth and giving you the ice cold side-eye. Yes, you and the ambulance chasing- cracker jack box degree having-lawyer that fixed his face to tell you this was a viable case. Talking 'bout you want your kidney or 1.5 million dollars. Shiiiieeeeet. I wish somebody would...

Both of ya'll need to go sit your behinds down somewhere. Like, NOW.

ain't no shame in the game...

Alot of my poll questions come directly from conversations with friends (yes, we probably spend a lot more time than necessary talking about sex and the politics of sex). But then there are some questions that come straight out of the inappropriate/ politically incorrect corner in my mind. I'll admit, the question, "Do you remember everyone that you've ever had sex with?" came out of the corner.

And I must admit, it is really impressive to learn that a whopping 80% of you guys are able to recall the names of ALL the people you've slept with. Most of us have been at this for more than a decade, so my guess is either you're really good at holding out, secretly keeping a list or got the memory of a freakin' elephant.

As for the 20% who can't... Well lets just say, I'm not mad. Shoot, unless you're out there having unprotected sex, who needs to remember all the names of people that in the grand scheme of life meant as much as the UPS man that drops off packages at your mom's house?

Keep it real, don't we all lie about the number anyway? If it's super high, you're gonna make it lower to avoid seeming slutty. If it's super low, you've got to make it higher for anyone to believe you. Sorry kids, that's just the breaks.

Bottom line, there are more important things to remember (like the name of the girl in the Catherine Malandrino store that can hook me up with a discount) than the guy who couldn't get it up without wearing his favorite sweatsocks. Right?

more slaps and less time-outs...

Will somebody puh-lease explain to me what in the unholy-unsupervised-destined for jail-BeBe's kids hell is going on in this world?

According to the AP, a four-year old boy in southern Ohio purposely shot his baby-sitter. Yup you read that correctly. But wait on it... the pre-schooler didn't do it because the sitter was, oh I don't know, physically/ sexually abusing him or something horrible like that. No, that would've been too much like right. This fool shot his sitter because the 18 year-old accidentally stepped on his foot!!! WTF!?!?!?!?

WHO THE HELL IS THIS KID??? Damn Scarface reincarnated? Lil' dude isn't even in kindergarten. He probably doesn't even know his ABC's or how to count past the number 20... And yet this pint-sized psychopath is popping off at the age of FOUR?? Uh-uh.

If you ask me, his parents need to be the first ones locked up under the jail from now until forever. Mmm-hmmm.

'Cause why was there a loaded gun laying around in the crib where a four year-old can reach it? And since it's obviously one of those households where the TV not the adults educate the children-what in the world kind of violent ass shows and video games did they expose him to?

Oh and as for that little mo-fu? His ass needs Jesus.

Damn a juvenile hall. He needs to be locked up in a monastery far, far away with jedi-master monks that can read his mind. And will KARATE CHOP THAT ASS every time he even dreams about doing something out-of-pocket.

It's officially the end of days. Someone please pull the little red wagon around, I'm tagging out.

i want the double-reinforced ones...

Wow, I just read the most random and utterly depressing news- Waterford Wedgewood has filed for bankruptcy. Good god, that company has set the standard in fine chine and crystal wares for like forever. And just like that it's a wrap. Dayum...

I swear, at the rate things are going everybody's wedding registry will request paper plates, plastic forks and those big red solo cups. Yeah, I said it.

too grown for the walk of shame...

In general, I find Monday mornings can be difficult. But the first Monday after the end of the year holidays is absolutely the worst! It's like there's all this pressure to get your life started on the right track ASAP or you risk being a total failure for the rest of the year. It's crazy, right?

Luckily for my mazy butt, over the break, I was slacking on the posting game, so I have lots of old polls to discuss. Mmm-hmm, bet you thought I forgot about the whole "are you still down for a one night stand" question that I asked a trillion moons ago. Not so fast you sluts! LOLOL.

Actually the phrase sluts might be a bit of an exaggeration. Turns out that only 31% of you guys are still down for the one-time anonymous jump-off. Guess all that spontaneity went the way of that morning after STD tests for the remaining 69% huh?

But I have to say, I'm not surprised. I don't care how "safe" you think you're being if you're having intimate relations-at least if they're any good-there's gonna be some sort of body fluid contact. What if god forbid you're that random 1% that gets knocked up or worse... Remember the oozing sores and cauliflower penises from those awful health class STD films? So nasty.

I admit, it probably seems like I suffer from a bit paranoid but shoot, if a Black man can become President anything can happen. Elsa's daughter did not make it this many years to turn around and become the senseless Maury statistic... period.

And seriously, you know that no matter how much you might intend for it to remain a one-night stand- with all the advances in modern day technology can't nobody truly disappear nowadays. Knowing my crazy dating karma, I'd finally meet someone worth talking about and get caught out for screwing one of his homeboys two years ago on a girl's getaway weekend to Puerto Rico when he posts pictures of us up on Facebook?? Talking about, my homeboy from third grade said that he knows you... Uh-uh, no puedo.

we made it...

In case I haven't gotten around to speaking to you personally, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! My 2009 bring you and yours continued health, happiness and prosperity! (And yes, there was silly string at the NYE party!)

And in the spirit of the new year here the single resolution that I hope we will ALL keep:

NO more belly-aching or complaining.

If a Black man named freaking Barack Obama could figure out how to get elected to the Presidential office of this crazy ass country then there is NO EXCUSES for why WE all can't succeed at whatever our hearts desire.

LET'S GET IT POPPIN' PEOPLE!!