Saturday, December 30, 2006


You ever just know folks are making shit up? Uggh the amount of frivolous liars on this planet is crazy. Take for instance these classic scenarios. I know that you all know these classic liars so if one seems familiar just drop me a line.

The Expert

The Expert is the guy or girl who knows Every.Fucking.Thing. There is never a situation or experience that the expert has not been involved in. For instance, the Expert may have had every job known to man, perhaps the expert was a war hero, a CEO, pro athlete, world traveler chief, cook, bottle washer and the Guinness book of world records holder for every record over the last ten years.

Now, the Expert may have actually been involved in or around some of these activities. The Expert may even know pertinent information that is important to the credibility of said stories. However, if you listen closely to the experts many stories, inconsistencies begin to appear. Dates and names, and especially places all seem muddled.

You can't be in 15 places at the same time. You can't work a 6 figure job in the states and be in Lithuania, Japan, Germany, and Korea, be an army ranger, play for the local Pro Football team all while in college. You also can't be a former professional model, dance for a ballet company, have dated or slept with 15 celebrities, get your degree in computer science, help out your adoptive parents and 8 siblings while being a bi-sexual mother of two with MS.

The Expert is usually easy to spot, he or she is always the first to pipe up and tell a story even when no one asked.

The Embellisher

The Embellisher isn't an expert and doesn't profess to be one. The embellisher only wishes to make their personal story greater. The Embellisher loves to be known as the person with the greatest story of all time. Say this liar went to London on vacation. Well instead of just doing the normal tourist retelling of their trip the Embellisher adds that not only did they get to see Buckingham Palace, but that they had tea with the queen and were invited to dinner with Muhammad Al Fayed after watching the prince play polo with his sons.

Perhaps the Embellisher got a present. Suddenly the present isn't just a ring or a bracelet but a one of a kind jewelry set from Tiffany or David Yurman presented on a stack of 800 count Egyptian cotton sheets by a man driving the new Maybach. Now you will never see any evidence of these unbelievable activities and once the story is told it might change 3 or 4 times after its first retelling. The thrill for the Embellisher is not the proof mind you but the story itself. The ability to make yourself larger than life is worth the stares and incredulous stares. No one ever believes the Embellisher, but that's not the point.

The No Point Liar

This is the person that has no idea they are lying after a while. They lie about shit that makes zero sense to lie about. Like what they ate or where they are or where they might go later. The No Point Liar hasn’t got any real reason for lying so it’s baffling why they do it. You'll call them as they are riding down the street wind blowing in the background and they will say "Yep I am just watching TV and getting ready to go to bed". Things that are just stupid that no one in their right mind even cares about. Who cares if you ate a burrito or a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner? No Point doesn’t even enjoy the art of a lie, in fact they don’t even know they are doing it.


This is perhaps the most creative liar of them all. Factoid jumps in when there is a need for an explanation. Mind you the explanation is ALWAYS wrong. Factoid is creative and wants nothing more than to be the brightest guy in the room. Factoid knows the correct distance to the sun, the speed at which light travels, the exact type of concrete used to pour flooring, the legal system by heart, the birthplace of obscure jazz musicians, the origins of hip-hop music, the type and brand of lace front wig that Tyra Banks wears, and the correct nationality for every person born between 1972 and 2006.

Factoid knows EVERYTHING and nothing. This type of liar is so easy to spot its comical. Life is like a Mad Libs book for the Factoid, it’s just a matter of filling in the blanks with what sounds correct. I wrote about a Factoid early on who knows everything from breast feeding to soul food. Only a complete fool or the Expert would fall for this type of BS. The Expert loves an opportunity to chime in and say "I did that too" so it’s easy to see why these two would get along so well.

Folks just love to lie and why I will never know, but if you recognize a liar feel free to call them out. I have decided that calling folks out is what's hot for the 07, and I am going to start with a few Experts.

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Lil Wayne Returns and So Does Christmas

It aint my birthday but I got my name on the cake. Sorry I just wanted to say that.

I am starting to be annoyed and frankly with it being Christmas time I don’t like it when folks start fucking with my Christmas Joy. I love the holidays and I anyone who Humbug's my Christmas might get cut with something rusty. I am serious about it, don’t fuck with my Christmas Joy.

Seriously, I am going to have to stop allowing anonymous comments if this assclown doesn’t quit posting that nonsense on my blog. It was amusing the first time but now I am annoyed, so let me just address it and be done.

No, I didn’t fucking read it
No, I wont fucking read it
No, you wont get any more airtime on my damn blog
No, I don’t give a fuck what it said or what you hope to accomplish by doing it.

Please I am asking nicely (and anyone who knows me knows that is a fucking stretch of the highest order) leave my comments section alone.

With that said I would like to return to my Christmas Joy.

I am a Holiday person, I just happen to be a Baptist so that means I celebrate Christmas, BUT hold on now there. I love the holidays period. I don’t care if you celebrate Kwanzaa or Hanukkah or any other derivative thereof. I am all for it. Roll out the decorations and bring on the food and family and fellowship. This is what I love about the season itself.

Now I know you are thinking how odd it must be that I am a complete cynic all year round and then December rolls around and I get a soft heart. Well, its strange but true. I love Christmas music (but not that jazzed up crap) some old and some new. The season for me hasn’t fully started until I hear three songs. Let it Snow by Boys II Men, All I Want for Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey, and Santa Claus is Coming to town by Pleasure (its a defunct go-go group).

I am the queen of gift giving and I love to see peoples faces light up and enjoy their surprises. I love angels, and cards, and peppermint and cookies and everything in between. Yes folks Christmas is SERIOUS business for me.

I live for charity events like visiting the Holiday Coalition out at on of my properties. That was amazing and just filled me with the spirit of the season. I went hunting for the perfect gift for the child who's name I picked off the tree here in the office. I was so excited to wrap it on Sunday night I could hardly contain myself. My closet is stuffed to the gills with gifts for everyone I could think of, including a special gift for the dog.

Saturday I went up to "the boyfriend's" and helped him decorate the tree. We got a bunch of special ornaments from Pier One, and we drank wine and listened to music that had NOTHING to do with Christmas, but it was so much fun. He used to be a real scrooge but I try to get him to experience the magic of the season by spending time with family and friends. He was actually excited about the tree this year, but he would deny it if you asked him.

I have a recipe for a white hot chocolate that I am going to make for everyone this weekend. After I stop past the liquor store and Best Buy I will be officially finished and I can move on to my pot luck recipe for tomorrow's gift exchange!

Wheeewww! I didn’t realize its only 6 days till Christmas! Are you ready?

Monday, December 18, 2006

Oh My Side!

I officially quit Justin Timberlake.
I have been laughing all day about this SNL nonsense. I am going home, my sides hurt.

Merry Christmas

I dont think I can ever forgive him for these two either.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

More Confusing Than Lil Wayne Lyrics

Okay, so I get anonymous comments all the time. Some are cool, some are rude as fuck, and others....well then there are others like the one I got this evening. I just happened to be checking my gmail account when I stumbled upon an unmoderated comment (yes I do moderate comments and now I remember why) on Avin's Day.

It was in the topic "Just Catching Up" and I figured, oh great I have some unsolicited opinion on whether or not black comedians should be using the N word. Just what I want after a long day of driving and meeting and paying tolls. In a way I was thinking YES hate mail! Finally something to argue about that doesn’t involve the improper installation of a retail sign. I know, I know, I am weird as hell, but part of me is convinced that no one but my closest friends read this thing, and if there are others they are only reading up on me for a case study or something. Probably titled "What Crazy Looks Like" by Random Grad Student.

Anyway, man was I wrong! Some wingnut went and posted a damn dissertation in my comments about drawing disfavor from "the gods" and some other shit riddled with grammatical errors, typos and a severe under use of the enter button.

I gotta admit I did try to read it cause I wanted to see what side of the fence this lunchbox was sitting on, but frankly I gave up after the 80th run on sentence I was just fucking confused and bewildered. Really, its the strangest thing I have ever seen, and I am quite sure judging just by its length its a copy paste job, but someone had to write this nonsense initially. Anyway, I don’t have the energy to read the rest, I am about 1 cup of tea away from passing smooth out. Maybe one day if I am super bored or need to confuse myself for fun I will read it, but I just cant address it.

Anyone interested in reading this dissertation hit me up. I cant guarantee you that you'll understand it, or even be able to read it let alone complete it, but if you just gotta sleep and you need something stronger than Ambian and a Rubik’s Cube, I will forward it. It covers everything from AIDS in Africa to female genital mutilation, the crack epidemic to gang membership, black-on-black violence, Hip-Hop, Classic Rock, poverty, homosexuality, women, men, and anything else that might anger "the gods".

There s just confusion, and frankly I would argue...but I really just don’t understand it.

I am going the hell to bed, Good Night.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Sweet Escape My Ass

Would someone please explain to me what is going on with Gwen Stefani? I mean, I didnt discuss it when she went on the AMA's dressed like a gold lame Gretel, but I probably should have addressed it right then and there. Can I just have a moment of silence for the girl who made me sing "Trapped in A Box?"

Okay I am better now, but seriously someone hit me up. Call me, email me drop me a line and explain to me how you use a sample from the sound of music and yodel on your first single? I know she is trying to be edgy, I know that she is working with "lemme sing your hook" Skateboard P. but was there no one with the nuts to tell her that this was crazy?

Wind it Up is about the scariest single since that Popozao debacle FedEx put out. I really wanted to love it, and I wanted to support Gwen on her second solo outing, but when she broke into the yodling I stopped feeling bad about hating "Hollaback Girl". I am starting to fear that having that baby has robbed her of all common sense. I mean poor little Kingston, listening to his mommy yodel on record and thinking "Daddy better get Bush back together or we are screwed". At least thats what I would be thinking about now.

Then last night she was back on my damn TV on the Billboard awards in that one-piece gingham overall set with a live fucking sheep. I seriously have no words.

Just Catching Up

Sheesh I am tired as all hell. Last night was the office Holiday Party and we all had a great time. I am going to try and keep it brief as my homegirl has mentioned specifically that I not go too far in detail....but damn do I want to!!!

I do however feel like I got shorted a day on my weekend. Not that I don’t love the folks at my job, but when I just saw yall Friday, and then I see you Saturday and I only get Sunday to slow my brain, recuperate and think of anything but work...I feel shorted. Noting that my homegirl is going to give me shit about this one. Anyway, Christmas is coming and I have a ton of shit to do and no where near enough time or money to get it done. I think this happens every year but honestly I don’t really remember much these days. I actually started dreaming about work and that is never a good sign.

There was only one thing I wanted to address that’s been a recent head scratcher. Exactly who is calling for black comedians to stop using the "N" word? I am confused. First, I know that KKKramer isn’t really trying to say that because he hears this word from the likes of Paul Mooney, Chris Rock and Dave Chappelle that he got confused about it and thought it was okay to say it. I KNOW that’s not really his defense.

Second, I am not condoning the use of it, but if we are going to be real here lets just be real. Black people use that word, and it’s really not a secret. In our own families, in our own company yes, we use it and no it doesn’t mean the same thing. Maybe you are going to tell me "I don’t use it" well maybe you don’t but I bet your uncle or your grandma or your homeboy or someone in your circle does. I don’t know a black family that doesn’t have one soul in it who never said it. I won’t argue spelling or semantics I am just saying it exists amongst us for totally different reasons.

The point of this basically is the question, are we (as a whole) really taking responsibility for other people using this word?? Is it suddenly black people's faults that we are called racist names? I am fucking confused because that in my opinion is crazy. First that word wasn’t our creation, second when we flipped it and made it something else we didn’t do it for the benefit of others, third our use of it comical or otherwise has not and will not make it okay for others to use period. I know this is actually going to upset some folks but lets just get it into perspective, some shit is a cant for some people.

I just think it’s completely ridiculous to be put in a position of blame for this racist tirade. Mooney never condoned lynching when he said it so this "Black comedians have got to stop using the word" BS is just too much for me. How about you round up all the comedians who are confused about it, who think maybe its okay to say it and who have ill intentions by using it and you sign them to some sort of agreement, but quit harassing Chris Rock already. I already know he isn’t going to stop and frankly I don’t think he should have to. The distribution of blame is amazing in America and some how it’s always someone else’s fault.

Monday, November 27, 2006

Borat who?

Déjà vu seriously go see it. Its been a long time since I actually liked a movie enough to sit in a crowded ass theater on opening weekend and endure the hot ghetto mess that is Arundel Mills Mall. We decided to have dinner over at Chevy’s which was good. The boyfriend was already looking at me like it was a major mistake to go there for a 9pm movie with Ray-Ray and Uzi Clip but since we haven’t had a date night in months, he decided to risk it.

We did have a few irritants of course, like homegirl in the seat in front of me who was at very least 400lbs and talking on two cell phones at the same time. The Boyfriend leaned over to me at one point and said “I don’t care who that bitch is, she don’t need two damn phones and she aint that damn important” which caused me to snort my sprite through my nose. Of course she never heard me coughing though cause she was too busy yacking through the opening credits. It’s a testament to how good this movie is that she actually shut up and paid attention.

Was it “Man on Fire” good? Not quite, but was directed by the same guy, so it has that same feel to it. Tony Scott has a real knack for capturing scenes. It’s a different way of seeing that most of us just don’t think about. It really sets his movies apart from others.

I think Denzel did a great job (as usual) and I even liked a fatter Val Kilmer. It was great to see Erica Alexander again and Paula Patton did a fabulous job in her role. I think for a newcomer she is really about to do some really big things. In fact she and her husband are both doing big things this year. Her husband being Robin Thicke who’s CD I love so dearly.

So before I go on a Robin Thicke tangent, I will just stop there and say go see Déjà vu cause its totally worth it.

Friday, November 24, 2006

360 Degrees

Its easy to forget that karma really does exist sometimes. For years I have thought that karma was something that folks who got the short end of the stick said to make themselves feel better after getting screwed. I never really thought that the screwer got what they deserved in the end. Well, with the exception of the "I'll believe it when I see it" ideas I have about my exhusband ever getting a tiny scrap of the horror and evil he dished out to me and his son, I am pleased to report that indeed some things do come full circle.

Take for example one of my family members. He shall remain nameless because I am never really sure if anyone in my family reads this. Anyway, this particular family member tormented me for dating and marrying a white man from the time I was 13 until long after my divorce. I was told to "become white" my son was referred to as a "half breed" and I endured countless years of just general bullshit and snide comments associated with the fact that I had the audacity to date, marry and procreate with a white man. These comments have caused my mother to disown, and cuss out this particular individual, but lets not get stuck on that, lets get to the karma portion.

Fast forward, this particular family member who has a child older than my child and this child is actually a grown adult now in the process of embarking on a very lucritive career. VERY LUCRITIVE. The racist ass family member is and has been pleased as punch with the prospect of his child's earning potential. What this family member wasnt particularly pleased with was his child's choice of girlfriend. A lil white girl from Boston. Anyway, Wednesday evening we got a phonecall stating that not only was this girl 5 months pregnant BUT everyone has known for months with the exception of racist family memeber and wife. That ladies and gentlemen is karma.

When I heard I actually burst into laughter. I figure it couldnt have happened to a nicer guy and now all those years of ridicule I endured will finally mean something. Sometimes when you refuse to learn the lesson that god presents to you, he finds another way for you to learn it. I am sure it wont be easy and I am sure that his son now has to think about how important his career is or how he plans to care for this child but it can be done, I know I am living proof. Maybe tolerance is something you cant just talk about when you think its appropriate or in polite company. Maybe you have to do more than pay it lip service, and what better way to do that then to be forced to love the very thing you have vowed to hate.

Personally, they have my love, support and blessings and I cant wait to welcome that baby into our family. I think there is a world of love to be gained from our family and not all of us are assholes. Some of us will love you and accept you no matter what color you come out.
In other news I would like to take this opportunity to send one up to the lord for him to take a moment to teach the exhusband a few lessons. Particularly the one about public humiliation and can I be there to see it is all I ask cause I feel like he is WAY overdue to learn something.
Just a suggestion.

Monday, November 20, 2006

NEWSFLASH: Racism Alive and Well In America

Yeah I am sure yall are shocked right?

Well guess what I was actually taken aback by this one. Michael Richards, the comedian who played Kramer on Seinfeld lost his mind on Friday during his stand up routine at The Laugh Factory in West Hollywood. Apparantly, he was being heckled by some black guys in the audiance, and I guess comedians dont get heckled anymore or something, because he came completely unglued (or as I like to call it, showed his true colors) and started screaming and calling them niggas. Take a look for yourself.

There was mass confusion apparantly because he must have been in the middle of his act when he decided to scream that and I quote "50 years ago we'd have you upside down with a fucking fork up your ass." Hmm, did he just advocate lynching two people who paid to see his show? I mean someone spell it out for me cause I am obviously too stupid to see how that could mean anything other than lynching.

Then he proceeds to go off with a stream of "niggers" and "motherfuckers" that made my jaw drop. Folks started getting real upset in the audiance and the two guys proceed to leave. The guys start screaming at him on the way out, which for all intents and purposes seemed pretty mild to me. Most folks would have charged the stage and stomped the life out of him. These guys started name calling back. Richards tried unsuccesfully to make light of it by saying "They're going to arrest me for calling a black man a nigger" but the damage was done, and folks were rolling out in droves.

Now, I personally never watched Seinfeld all that much. Mainly cause I figured I had other shit to watch in the same time slot, but it wasnt personal. I guess there are still a ton of folks who have us laughing every day that would just love to lynch us if we got out of pocket. Yes ladies and gents racism is still alive and we still have a long way to go.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

A Little Help???

When the hell did customer service go to shit? I just want to know because it seems like the more I deal with the service industry, the less service I get. Over the weekend when I was allowed out of the house under intense scrutiny and supervision, I found my ensemble for the black tie event I am attending tomorrow evening. No thanks to my mother and her sister who kept trying to make me look like a cross between a waitress and the entertainment. I don’t know what was going on with the two of them, but their choices for a black tie industry event were beyond questionable.

The first outfit was some sparkle-laden top that screamed "Enchanted Evening at the VFW". I QUICKLY shot that down. Then my mother found this skirt that was above the knee, black and had more ruffles than a damn petticoat. She attempted to pair this Harper Valley PTA nightmare with a white satin wrap top that had a big glittery broach attached to it. I tried to gently explain that this was an "industry" event, not the holiday party at Office Depot. My aunt (god love her) tried her best to step in and help. She picked out this floor length goddess number that I thought was beautiful...but I didn’t want folks to think I was channeling Diana Ross. I mean it was really nice, but it was sorta low cut in the front and really um...really just over the top. Then my mother suggested a bright green dress that I had spotted earlier this month and thought was really attractive, however I didn’t want to make that much of a statement in a room full of real estate folks.

I tried (unsuccessfully) to explain again what I was looking for. A dressy suit of some sort, with a touch of color for the top. Something that said sophisticated but also said I had some damn style and I wasn’t about to either break into song or ask for the drink order. Of course they got irritated, (surprise surprise) and acted like I was being unreasonably picky. I think they were thinking Holiday Party, while I am thinking Work. Anyway, I finally stumbled into EXACTLY the right outfit but now you all know the drama doesn’t stop there. Apparently, don’t know my own size. The size 10 slacks that I thought were perfect were obviously too tight for my mother's taste. Did I mention she is a 14 but wears a 1x because she thinks everything is too tight?

I try the thing on, and she says all loud and wrong "Those are way too tight, get the 12's". I argue my case by explaining that the 12's fell down around my ankles and that they do not fit in the waist or crotch. She protests and tells me that the 10's (again loud as fuck) are entirely too tight and that they are (and I quote) grabbing me in the ass. Did I say this was going on in front of like 20 people in the store? No, well I meant to give you that mental picture and now you have it. I try again to explain that the 10's fit in the waist, and maybe they are a little snug in the thigh, but the jacket will cover the problem area as will the top I chose and that there is no reason to by too big pants when these are just fine. Why did I do that? Why lord?

Auntie decides to chime in and bring her "your ass is too big" two cents to the discussion. At that point to keep from being groped and pulled at in front of complete strangers and have the size of my posterior called into question at full volume, I gave in. My mother is taking in the too large pants as I type this. We had a full on pinning session where she hiked the pants under my armpits and argued with me again about where I normally wear my pants. Its just too much folks, I mean if she wants to play Suzie Seamstress let her, but let it be known the pants are too damn big.

So you are saying, what the hell has this got to do with customer service. Sorry, I am getting there, I just needed yall to feel my pain for a moment. So, the top and matching clutch to the outfit are a very soft gold. I had seen a pair of shoes in Nordstrom that I thought would match perfectly, so after being humiliated in front of a rack of strangers I was then allowed to go see about the shoes.

I didn’t find the shoes I had initially envisioned for the outfit, but I did find another pair that were a much better match. That’s when shit went awry. I picked up the shoe and started heading for these two young (maybe 17) male sales associates. You know that look when someone wants to run? That caged animal, which way do I turn look? They both had it. It was like they were mentally drawing straws as to who was going to get stuck helping me. The little white one came up short and the black one fled. I showed him the shoe, told him my size and sat down. 10 min later he returned looking bewildered. He came over and I said "Did you have them?" I shit you not, the boy said "I found the box" and stood there in my face like one of us was crazy. A damn box? WTF do I do with a box? This fool walks away!!! He goes back over to the same kid he was with when I walked up and they stand there. Looking completely ignorant. Now maybe I still had some anesthetic or Tylenol in my system because if you know me, you know that this is a situation that is about to get ugly fast. He must have seen my face and he moseyed back over and said "They sold them without the box" and walked away again. I was starting to think I was being Punk'd. That’s when my momma and auntie rolled up and demanded I go sit down and eat lunch.

I tried to explain that I was about to put foot to ass but they weren’t trying to hear it. Apparently I had been out of my cage too long already, and they meant business. Here is my question though. What was really going on with those kids? This is Nordstrom first off, the pinnacle of customer service, the same place a lady returned tires to. How do you screw up a shoe sale. Second, how about offering me a similar style or another size? Third don’t work if you don’t want to. Its obvious you two get plenty of room and board at home with mommy and daddy, do not mess with my shopping experience cause you are mad you got a holiday job. Finally, who hired these little bastards cause I want to know what type of drugs they were taking when they did it. "Hey that’s great you have no work ethic you're hired!"

Needless to say I went back yesterday and got my damn shoes in a half size lower. They fit fine, but they would have known that had they asked me. So I ask you, where did all the service go in customer service? What happened to taking pride in your job? What happened to the customer is always right? I was a waitress for a lot of years and though I am not typically a people person, I was very friendly, helpful and efficient because that’s where my money came from. If I wanted to eat, I had to be good at my job, and I was even when I didn’t like it. Even when I was tired or sick or angry about some homelife shit. Someone let me know, cause I don’t understand it.

Friday, November 10, 2006

Slow Your Roll...Literally

Well the surgery is over, and I have to say that things really went well. I still feel icky and sore but I am overall okay. No serious pain and no real trauma even though I probably was their weepiest patient ever. I just didn’t keep it together well I gotta be honest. Its funny how you can let a doctor break your nose on purpose and never shed a tear but the idea of an invasive surgery that was over in less than an hour could send me into uncontrolled sobs. I will never figure myself out.

Anyway, there were plenty of really great people who made me feel better and sent me wonderful flowers and chocolates. "The Boyfriend" sent a beautiful bouquet with chocolates that my mother was truly excited about...the chocolates not the flowers. My job sent me a beautiful bouquet too with my absolute favorite flowers. I don’t know about you but flowers really do make me feel better. Oh wait I was a florist once, so maybe it’s just me. I am truly excited by green corsage tape and creating arrangements. I am studying "the boyfriends" bouquet so see just how they put it together because that’s an art.

I truly have some of the best friends in the world. They have been calling and emailing and doing all sorts of stuff to make sure I am okay. Dia and themakeupgirl are coming over tomorrow and I hope to guilt them into taking me to T.G.I.Friday's for lunch. I even have some folks who have been super nice to me during this that I think don’t really like me and just put up with my’s a long story.

So now I can’t run around lifting shit and running marathons or anything strenuous. Not that I was going to anyway, I mean I don’t really want to do any of that anyway but it’s the principal of the thing. After one day I have a wicked case of cabin fever and I was trying to read this damn article on the rejection of a residential project in VA right before the surgery. It was the last thing I thought about as I went under and one of the first things I thought about as I was getting up afterwards. Damn you Loudoun County, damn you Washington Post!

I even found my black tie outfit for the Real Estate event I am going to next month, but only cause I BEGGED my mother and her sister to let me out of the house with them. Of course they regulated every step and I was back home as fast as I left. Small victories people. So between cups of tea and Tylenol I have been picking around on my blogs and chatting with my homegirls and watching a TON of TV. It’s just impossible for me to be still for too long. Lunchtime rolled around and I wanted to go to the bank and over to Moby Dick for a chicken Kabob. Correction, I wanted to guilt Miko into going with me to Moby Dick for chicken Kabob, but since she is on her diet she would tell me no and I would go to the bank instead.

Uggh I think I miss work what is wrong with me? I just wanted to say thank you all for the well wishes and the words of support and prayers. Truly they were ALL appreciated and helpful and I thank yall for talking me down off my ledge and out of my angry attitude. I hope I never have to do this again, and I hope you guys dont have to see me like that either. Its not cute I know.


Tuesday, November 07, 2006

An Open Letter to K-Fed

Dear Kevin,

Wow, I just heard! I guess the fairytale is over. Just as your career was launching you into superstardom too! I just cant imagine the pain you are feeling right now. This is the mother of two of your children. You both started off so strong, so chaotic, but now this. She went and got her old body back and everything that bitch. You should call up John Cena and see if he will let you hang out. Yall can trade corny white boy rapper catch phrases. Maybe it will take away some of the sadness.

If you don’t want to get a real job, that’s okay too. You can also keep peddling your album, and doing shows and tours all over America. That is bound to help pay for a few of the Ferarri payments, a modest apartment somewhere in the valley and those Tall Tall T's that you seem so fond of these days. Anyway, I just wanted to be the first to tell you how sorry I was, and that even though you wont have a lot of money, you better get me my damn child support on time. My Moesha checks ran out years ago, so don’t let me catch you slippin Earl. Bitch betta have my money, you hear me?

Your First Baby Momma (and don’t you forget that shit)
Shar Jackson

Monday, November 06, 2006

Another Open Letter to Terell Owens

Dear T.O.,

I know you really arent trying to hear from us today but we just had to drop you a line. Look man, we saw what happened yesterday and well frankly we cant believe it either. I mean it should have been an easy win. They looked ripe for the picking to us, but you never know with these east-coast teams. Just when you think youve got it all sewn up, they go and pull that Novak kid out of their ass and game over.

I gotta admit you were trying to work it out for a while there, seven catches, and a touchdown, but then you dropped your homeboy's deep ball. I mean you threw a tizzy to get Bledsoe out and Romo in, but when push came to shove you just couldnt hang on. Then there was that messy personal foul in the third where you decided to take a nappy nap on the game ball just to taunt the Skins. Something tells us you are somewhere right now curled up in that same fetal position but thats not important.

Anyway, its not your fault Vanderjack kicked low. The face-mask incident wasnt your fault either, but hey that dropped ball is yours honey, you keep that one under your pillow or your game ball at night which ever works best for ya. So, we are just writing to say we care, we understand and shoot we've had some losses in the last few weeks too. Just to show there are no hard feelings, we'll take care of the Redskins for you this weekend. Its the least we can do.

Your Pals,
The Eagles

Thursday, November 02, 2006

I Know Your Type I Know Your Kind, You're Quick To Back Down

Widebody security homeboy at “the boy’s” school needs to dial it down just a notch. Apparently, missing the school bus and having your mother drop you off now no longer qualifies as a valid reason to be tardy. Riddle me this Fatman Scoop? How are you going to be drunk off your own pseudo power being a middle school security guard? I mean how does that work exactly?

Standing there growling at the kids and got’em shook. Oh and trust it wont work in your favor to be nasty to my ass. No siree chief, I am not an 8th grader and I am not going to run if you buck at me. I will however ruin your damn day if I get half a chance. Its not like I am happy with that school anyway. No wonder my son was so scared to go in and get a pass.

I was quick to let him know that I didn’t appreciate his tone or his scare tactics when he said “What’s he late for?” I explained that he missed the bus and his response was, “Well that’s not a real reason for being tardy” looks at my son and says “Go to class”. Yeah, yall can guess how it went from there. I got right up on him and politely (in that what the fuck did you just say to me tone) asked him exactly WHICH reason, was a valid one because driving himself and staying home alone weren’t options. He blurted out “um he coulda been sick”. So I said “yeah, sick” snatched the pass paper and signed it full and bold as hell across three of the damn sections. I looked at him and said “We good?” Bookman nodded and my son got his pass. I again state that they know not who the fuck with.

Who is this guy? Don’t let me catch him in the street. I wanna see him go hard in the Giant, with some damn adults watching. That “Security” shit aint real. You are breaking up kiddie fights and making sure they don’t skip. Its not like you are in the damn Secret Service. You aren’t a State Trooper, just bring it in. Quit trying to scare children all ya life. Fake ass rental cop. I bet my ex-husband is like that when he guards the fountain at the Mall he works for. Chasing little children with his tin badge and flashlight. Just sad as hell.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Ring The Alarm

Is Avin gonna have to choke a bitch? What is with people getting so close to my new car??? Three times in the last two days some nutcase has swerved into my lane causing me to shout obscenities and flip the bird. Uggh what is with people?? Apparently, what I didn’t realize about driving the bucket was that no one wants to damage a crappy car, but EVERYONE wants to take a crack at a new one. I am just super nervous and shaky on the road now. Watching everyone’s next move, hoping they don’t have some sort of death wish and no insurance. Its nerve-wracking!

The fact that I only have two CD’s isn’t really helping me either. Super-smart Avin packed up all her CD’s and put them in a big box that went to storage. I guess at the time I didn’t have a clue that I would have an actual radio, let alone a CD’s player or a new vehicle, so what did I need CD’s for? So I have been listening to Lil John’s Kings of Crunk and Eminem’s Marshal Mathers LP for the past three days. Not that there is anything wrong with either, I just don’t think that the music is matching my mood. It’s a little hostile for a lady with a happy new car.

In other news I have 9 days till my surgery. Do I feel better about it now? Nope. Am I less angry about it? Hell NO! That is neither here nor there considering its going to occur, and though I feel like I am shouting “HEY I AM SCARED HERE PEOPLE” everyone seems to think I will be just fine. I guess its sort of comforting that people believe I am that strong on a regular basis, but basically folks I just play calm really well…especially in front of an audience.

Oh and I started another blog for those that don’t know. Its called 99products (but a bitch aint one, LOL) and its strictly a beauty blog, so none of that crazy talk, cussing and fussing over there for good old Avin. I know you’re thinking I am crazy for even attempting it, but with the help of some good friends and fellow product bloggers I feel confident that I can keep it clean. Of course you know that doesn’t bode well for Avin’s Day. A girl has to express herself somehow, and damn it that means I gotta curse.

Anyway, I’ve gotta go, I have to make some angry phone calls to “the boy’s” school about what is going on up and through there. Professor Jackass is at it again and thanks to his unit test my son had an anxiety attack. I got a less than warm reception when I spoke with his guidance counselor yesterday, so I am expecting more of the same today. I have my game face on and my Eagles Fan attitude at the ready. Pray for them, for they know not who they fuck with.

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Let Me Upgrade Ya

Good evening my lovelies. I am pleased to report that after a long and grueling day I am the proud owner of a brand new fresh off the lot jet black 2007 Toyota Camry (sorry Ash). Yes people I have a radio a real honest to goodness radio. I know yall are saying "big deal", but that's big shit for a girl that's been bumpin a battery operated mini radio for over a year. Yes, yes yall a radio is big pimp type shit.

I am going to try not to get out of pocket with this car and act like I am on some balla status, but the key word there is try. I mean chances are I am gonna act up and become that chick you love to hate for the next few weeks. Windows down, radio up going 90. Sorry but I am siced I can't help it. I haven't stopped grinning like a cheshire cat since I left the lot.

This morning I got my ass out the bed bright and early and I commenced to scrubbing what could only be described as the funk of 40,000 years off the Rav. I cleaned that car till it shown like the top of the Chrystler Building (yes I am quoting from Annie, don't gudge me, the bible says not to) and vacuumed till my arms hurt. I put in a fresh quart of oil and replaced my Young Jeezy Snowman Air Freshener with a new Little Tree.

I cleaned till my fingers went numb from the cold and then I took my ass to the dealership. I was sure I wasn't going to get a dime for my Exxon wax job and Armor All-ed tires, but the dealership didn't see through my little cleanliness ruse! I got 2500 large for the old gray mare, not too shabby for a car with a serious oil leak and no radio.

So 4 hours and about 50 signatures later I am at home and happier than I have been in a long time. Words can not convey the joy I am feeling tonight, but pictures can, so expect to see me in various poses around and about my new car. You know the embarrassing B-boy stance photos that most folks don't take anymore. Sorry but mom has a new camera and "the boy" loves to take pictures.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Loose Ends

The stalled at the light today after my trip to VA. I am just praying the thing decides to hold on till Sunday. Maybe I can make it till then, who knows. Very little to discuss today, sorry people. You all know about Isaiah Washington, Wesley Snipes, Michael from Project Runway and that Flavor of Love foolishness, so I dont have any good gossip discussion.

I bought some of that MAC mineralize skinfinish which I think would be better if I used the StudioMist foundation. I got the wrong color, so until I get that worked out I am not going to fool with either of them. I will keep you posted.

Oh and I wanted to mention a guy who goes missing every once in a while but is still a someone I consider a very good friend. He reads this from time to time when he isnt busy as hell. I just wanted to say that everything is going to work out, no worries, we are in the same boat. Okay, thats your plug.

Monday, October 23, 2006

I Am Not My Nose

I always forget that I’ve had plastic surgery before. Its funny because somehow an elective surgery where they break my nose with a hammer and chisel seems less painful and invasive than what I am about to undergo. Someone is going to tell me it’s the same, and I shouldn’t be scared cause if they can rip my nose off and reposition it, than I should be able to do this cervical shit. Nope, I am still convinced its different.

Anyway, so I am one of those fools who volunteers information about plastic surgery. Like I never faked like it didn’t happen. I hated my previous nose and that is just a fact. I whined and complained and fussed about it from the time I was 7 years old until I finally had the surgery. I kept asking my mom when my nose was going to look like hers. It never did of course. The issue was that I had basically no bridge to my old nose. It was very flat, which in turn made my face itself look wide and round. Well rounder than it already is. Bottom line is I hated it, and that’s not a “oh she is rejecting her blackness” hate it’s a “this thing is misshapen” hate.

That was the first thing I endured, “you want to look white” or “I sure hope you don’t turn out like Michael Jackson” or “people who have plastic surgery don’t love themselves”. Good thing I didn’t give a flying fuck what anyone thought or that they would be nice enough to liken my nose job to that of a man with serious body dismorphic disorder. Nope, only I had to walk around with that damn thing staring me in the face every day. It was getting to the point where I wouldn’t look at it when I looked in the mirror. I just couldn’t fathom why I got stuck with it. Oh I also had a very close friend say “I sure hope your mother tries to talk some sense into you” and “you know that stripper girl *insert my name/her name here* that Troy used to date got a nose job too”. Whoopee, some chick with the same name got a nose job. Are you upset cause I am going to change my look or that your man was dating a stripper? Lets just bring it in okay, stop with the drama.

Anyway, I promised myself if I were going to do this that no comments would matter to me, and I would never be ashamed of it. 3 years later I am the first to pipe up at a party if someone says “I was thinking about getting a nose job”. Most black folks act like plastic surgery is some sort of crime. Yes, yes I have seen Vivica and Lil Kim, it can be pretty criminal if you just run about all willy nilly getting any old surgeon to correct your face. Do your homework people. Find someone that wants to preserve your ethnicity and doesn’t just wanna chop you up for some cash. I actively sought out a black plastic surgeon who I am sure was more expensive but was very interested in making sure I didn’t turn out all pinched up.

Coincidentally, when I got home Friday night I started flipping through the new Essence magazing and who should I find with a feature story? None other than my surgeon Doctor Monte O. Harris and my dermatologist Dr. Elliott Battle! They are obviously doing a booming business and I can attest to both their skill, and fabulous care. After years of horrible acne Dr. Battle managed to clear my skin. He prides himself on making women love what they see. Dr. Harris does too but he isnt quite as boisterous about it. The article says that they are opening a new practice in New York in addition to the one here in Washington DC. In fact if you have ever heard me rave about IS Clinical Active Serum,(its at the bottom of the post) Dr. Battle is the one who I got it from. Their shop is called Cultura, and if you are interested its worth checking out. Seriously, its one of the better decisions I ever made. I love my not so new anymore nose, and I love that when I look in the mirror I no longer make a conscious effort to look around it.

I remember dating a guy before I had the surgery that said he could never marry a woman with a nose job cause he wouldn’t know what their kids would look like. Yeah so his ass was fired on stupidity alone, but really is it that serious? If you dislike something enough, shouldn’t you have the right to change it without being hassled or ridiculed? Cant you just flat out not like something and want to handle it? Anyway, I think so and it feels great to see what I always wanted to see in the mirror.

Friday, October 20, 2006

Fun Facts

I dont usually do these but I stole this from Toya, Enjoy

So, the idea behind this meme is that you bold every one of these things that you've done and leave the rest in standard typeface. So, here we go!

01. bought everyone in the bar a drink
02. swam with wild dolphins
03. climbed a mountain
04. taken a ferrari for a test drive
05. been inside the great pyramid
06. held a tarantula
07. taken a candlelit bath with someone
08. said "i love you" and meant it
09. hugged a tree
10. bungee jumped
11. visited paris
12. watched a lightning storm at sea
13. stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise
14. seen the northern lights
15. gone to a huge sports game
16. walked the stairs to the top of the leaning tower of pisa
17. grown and eaten your own vegetables
18. touched an iceberg
19. slept under the stars
20. changed a baby's diaper
21. taken a trip in a hot air balloon
22. watched a meteor shower
23. gotten drunk on champagne
24. given more than you can afford to charity
25. looked up at the night sky through a telescope
26. had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
27. had a food fight
28. bet on a winning horse
29. asked out a stranger
30. had a snowball fight
31. screamed as loudly as you possibly can
32. held a lamb
33. seen a total eclipse
34. ridden a roller coaster
35. hit a home run
36. danced like a fool and not cared who was looking
37. adopted an accent for an entire day
38. actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment
39. had two hard drives for your computer
40. visited all 50 states
41. taken care of someone who was drunk
42. had amazing friends
43. danced with a stranger in a foreign country
44. watched whales
45. stolen a sign
46. backpacked in europe
47. taken a road-trip
48. gone rock climbing
49. midnight walk on the beach
50. gone sky diving
51. visited ireland
52. been heartbroken longer than you were actually in love
53. in a restaurant, sat at a stranger's table and had a meal with them
54. visited japan
55. milked a cow
56. alphabetized your cds
57. pretended to be a superhero
58. sung karaoke
59. lounged around in bed all day
60. played touch football
61. gone scuba diving
62. kissed in the rain
63. played in the mud
64. played in the rain
65. gone to a drive-in theater
66. visited the great wall of china
67. started a business
68. fallen in love and not had your heart broken
69. toured ancient sites
70. taken a martial arts class
71. played d&d for more than 6 hours straight
72. gotten married - yes
73. been in a movie
74. crashed a party
75. gotten divorced - YES!
76. gone without food for 5 days - Flu
77. made cookies from scratch
78. won first prize in a costume contest
79. ridden a gondola in venice
80. gotten a tattoo - 3 so far
81. rafted the snake river
82. been on television news programs as an "expert"
83. gotten flowers for no reason
84. performed on stage
85. been to las vegas
86. recorded music
87. eaten shark
88. kissed on the first date
89. gone to thailand
90. bought a house
91. been in a combat zone
92. buried one/both of your parents
93. been on a cruise ship
94. spoken more than one language fluently
95. performed in rocky horror
96. raised children
97. followed your favorite band/singer on tour
98. passed out cold
99. taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country
100. picked up and moved to another city to just start over
101. walked the golden gate bridge
102. sang loudly in the car, and didn't stop when you knew someone was looking
103. had plastic surgery - Nose, circa 2003
104. survived an accident that you shouldn't have survived
105. wrote articles for a large publication
106. lost over 100 pounds
107. held someone while they were having a flashback
108. piloted an airplane
109. touched a stingray
110. broken someone's heart
111. helped an animal give birth
112. won money on a t.v. game show
113. broken a bone - skiing accident
114. gone on an african photo safari
115. had a facial part pierced other than your ears - Tongue
116. fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol - Not at anyone, I know what yall are thinkin
117. eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wildside note
where is 118?
119. had major surgery
120. had a snake as a pet
121. hiked to the bottom of the grand canyon
122. slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours - Flu
123. visited more foreign countries than u.s. states
124. visited all 7 continents
125. taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
126. eaten kangaroo meat
127. eaten sushi - All the time
128. had your picture in the newspaper - 3 years Softball Championship Team
129. changed someone's mind about something you care deeply about
130. gone back to school
131. parasailed
132. touched a cockroach
133. eaten fried green tomatoes
134. read The iliad
135. selected one "important" author who you missed in school, and read
136. killed and prepared an animal for eating - Fish counts right?
137. skipped all your school reunions
138. communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language
139. been elected to public office
140. written your own computer language
141. thought to yourself that you're living your dream
142. had to put someone you love into hospice care
143. built your own PC from parts
144. sold your own artwork to someone who didn't know you
145. had a booth at a street fair
146. dyed your hair - I dont even know what the original color was
147. been a dj
148. shaved your head
149. caused a car accident
150. saved someone's life

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

That New Car Smell...the Murphy's Law Edition

Have I told you good people about my car? Well if I haven't you should look at this and come back. You done? Okay great.

With that joke in the can, let me tell you all about the new car nightmare that is unfolding at my house. First off for those that don't know or forgot, I was stupid enough to move back home with my parents at the end of September. Foolishly I though this might be less traumatic than the last time I lived here for 6 months back in 97.

Oh silly stupid me I must have been smoking that stuff my son did a paper in health class this week on. Btw when did they start telling kids that marajuana is deadly?

No matter, let me cut to the chase. My car is dying and not slowly. It is ingesting oil at an alarming rate and has started a clipse/pharell type of "grindin" that makes me think either I am going to loose a tire or the axle is going to snap. To say that its a death trap is an understatement of epic proportions.

I still drive it every day as it chugs its way to death. Now the logical question is why not just go get a new car. Excellent question my friends with an even better answer. I can't, I don't own the piece of shit. It belongs to the two professional irritants I live with...jointly so I can't sell it or trade it without thieir collective signatures.

Surely you say, they must see your radioless busted whip coughing down the driveway every morning right? You would think that but no, not these two. They believe that this is a magical car that will last into eternity and beyond. Those pesky 150k miles and dangerous sounds are mearly a figment of my spoiled and greedy imagination.

Now lets all just take a moment to reflect. Car dying, parents dilusional, no sale. Ohhh I forgot the best part. They have each had 4 cars a piece in the ten years I have owned the junk box. Altimas and Lexuses, Four-Runners and Pathfinders, Infinities, Mercedes, Cadilacs and Mazdas. Yes folks you name it they have owned it.

I am not even asking for help, I am just asking for the right to unload this hooptie. I don't even want the $7.13 the dealer would give me for it...or charge me to take it. No I just want it gone. Too bad they think its fine and dandy. Attitudes change when I offer them a ride though. Somehow no one wants to think about walking back to the house or breathing in the toxic fumes hot off the engine.

So after the boss sent me to the outskirts of VA again last week and my car started really showing out, they finally agreed to entertain the idea of letting it go. However not without a fee. That fee ladies and gents is my soul and what's left of my sanity.

I did my homework, I priced the car I wanted, I know I can afford it and I am more than ready. Its the best car for the least money and I am ready. Except now they want to shop around for a better deal.

Can you feel my anger through the screen? Its blinding and hot and is threatening to destroy me. Someone please tell me WHY they are involved in ANY WAY?? I am buying the car, not these two crackheads. Who cares what it costs if I am buying it? Dad get that fuckin Auto Trader magazine out of my face!

If I don't get my 07 Camry someone is gonna die in this piece and when I tell them what happened they will deem it justifyable homicide and set me free cause this is just crazy.

What did I do to deserve these people? Why lord did I move here and why have you forsaken me?? Why did I quit smoking!! I am going to go sneek a bottle of wine into my room now and cry.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Busy, busy, busy

I am trying folks. I mean I have had all these great ideas and topics to cover last week but everytime I tried to post I got all involved in life.

There is the whole creepy old-guy stalker dude from my storage place that I wanted to discuss. That is ongoing and I will get around to the story sometime soon.

There was the whole every day on the toll road deal which is killing my poor old car and emptying my wallet faster than a mugger on the National Mall.

There is the end of The Ultimate Fighter, LOST, the Project Runway Finale, Ortiz vs. Shamrock and Kendall Grove's win against some no name fool.

There is just so much to say and I kow you are thinking "you are on here now, just spill it." Honestly I am on coat in on my nails and between loads of laundry and I haven't even come close to figuring out what to wear tomorrow.

Monday, October 09, 2006

An Open Letter to Terrell Owens

Dear T.O.,

We hope you enjoyed your stay in the city of brotherly love this weekend. We enjoyed having you as a guest in our home after your unexpected departure late last year. Thanks to your visit, sales of both Energizer and Duracell batteries skyrocketed! Both companies send their thanks. We hope that the extra added security we provided made you feel all warm and snuggly.

We are also deeply sorry that you seemed to be so angry when you left so we would like to extend a second offer to come and stay and play in the beautiful city of Philadelphia. Its clear that your 14 point loss was not your fault at all, it was everyone elses...right? Please dont cry, not on the field anyway. I mean at least stomp your feet and hold your breath like a child, but please no tears, its embarrassing.

We know that you don’t need us anymore, but after last night it should be abundantly clear that we don’t need you. We sure hope you can now feed your family on the crow you must be choking on this morning. Have a safe flight back to Texas! I guess that power of one thing doesn’t really apply to you now does it?

P.S. Don’t be mad at Drew Bledsoe, he tried to get the ball to you, but with us sacking him every play, he must have been pretty dizzy.

Very truly yours,

The Eagles

Thursday, October 05, 2006

When Keepin It Curly Goes Wrong

Dear fellow beauty bloggers:

I need help.

I am out of my tried and true Ms. Jessie’s Curly Buttercream and I am experiencing serious pocket shock just thinking about paying $58 for another jar.

I need some alternatives and they need to be as moisturizing and effective without being heavy or greasy. So, tell me what you know. Should I try Carols Daughter Healthy Hair Butter? Mixed Chicks Leave in Conditioner/Styling Cream or should I just fork over the $58 large and quit crying already?? If you’ve done a comparison, or you have knowledge of the effectivness of any, all or other types of curly cream let me know. I think with the help of a spoon and some patience I can get one more day out of my jar…..maybe.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006


I decided to use my lunch break today to write a letter. Enjoy!

Dear Paris,

I heard what happened last night, and for the record just let me say…HAHAAAAA!
Does your face hurt? It should. Here’s hoping that Shanna beat your ass worse than Nick Carter did a few years back. Tell Stavros he is a bitch for trying to fight Shanna and that you shoulda tried to handle it yourself. I can see how you might not want to considering how you got your ass whipped by Shannon Doherty over that Rick Solomon mess. A word of advice from my good friend Dia, if you gonna start taking men, you better learn how to knuckle up!

Today’s theme music in honor of Shanna “Stomp’em Out” Moakler
“Whoop that Trick” from the Hustle and Flow soundtrack.

Get’em lol

Just Please Stop

You ever want to kick someone in the throat? I do and let me tell you why. If you don’t know what you are talking about, you should just be quiet. Also, even if you think you know what you are talking about, you probably shouldn’t be SO loud and SO wrong with it as not to have people who are aware that you are loud and wrong overhear you.

Example, moving to DC after 20 years in the suburbs doesn’t qualify you to give a history lesson on the city. You didn’t grow up there, and you haven’t been there long enough to have a good grasp of the city or its residents.

When you talk about how great a portion of the city is that has undergone gentrification, don’t say how much “better” it is now. The black people that got forced out of their homes after living there for 50+ years don’t think its better. They don’t think its so beautiful now that they cant afford the property taxes, but hey I am glad you are enjoying your new coffee shop, pricy condo and trendy bar.

When you discuss the 60’s riots, don’t make statements like “The only black owned business on U street that survived was Ben’s Chili Bowl” because while you might be right about it being the only one to stay in operation the entire time, you are incorrect when you refer to Ben Ali as black. I know we all look alike but really, middle eastern isn’t Negro. It’s different, really I wouldn’t bullshit you.

Food in a black neighborhood does not equal “Soul Food”. Half Smokes, and chili isn’t soul food either, at least not in my household it isn’t. In fact don’t even use the term Soul Food, because what you mean to call it is Southern Cooking, and that would consist of more than hot dogs and fries.

Don’t give lessons on how that food is no good for you and “if you don’t care about your health, its great”. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on. Black people don’t sit around stuffing chili dogs in our faces all day. Don’t presume to understand what we eat and why we eat it either. Just cause there were black people in there, don’t assume that is a part of our daily diet.

Your ignorance is showing, stop talking, people can hear you. Black people, who’s family’s grew up in DC, who know that it’s not a bad or “rough” neighborhood just because they haven’t bulldozed the rest of blacks out yet.

Ben’s is a landmark, and a great place to go on a Friday night after being at the club or just generally hanging out. If you are a Howard U grad its not just a hang out, its an institution and a rite of passage. Its interesting, its fun and it’s a part of the city’s rich culture, but it is not a Soul Food restaurant, and I aim to point out that you look stupid saying it.

I even feel like it wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t think you knew everything in the free fucking world about everything. Sure, you are smart and you went to school like the rest of us, but you don’t know everything and you shouldn’t pipe up to offer your unsolicited opinion on every subject being discussed. Especially a city you just happened to move to because it’s the “in” thing to do.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

That's Entertainment

Evening folks I am taking a page from the Musiclover handbook (that's my cousin) and setting up this blog. The mood for tonights blog is serene, and the music for tonight is Gratitude by Earth Wind and Fire. Lets start it off.

Thank god for ABC! That network used to really be a snore a few years back but Full House this aint! I am all about some abc. They are working it out this year with a full weeks line up of good quality entertainment, or at least its entertaining for me, and really isn't that all that matters?

I am super siced about the return of my all time favorite show LOST. Sure it scares the shit out of me sometimes and I am one of those annoying nerd types that checks out all the show related websites with the creepy supernatural links and shit. Terrible just terrible I know, blame Pangea.

I am excited about being so wrapped up in my show again, however I am not happy about my Tivo not being hooked up or the fact that I now have to discuss my favorite show with the dryest broad in history. Oh well.

I am also a Thursday night Grey's Anatomy junkie and frankly who could blame me? Its a great show written by a brilliant woman, with interesting characters and a soundtrack everyone loves. That and I just found out that McSteamy is going to become a full fledged cast member.

Now that man is dreamy, fuck a Patrick Dempsy. I would take Dr. Sloane any day of the week. And as much as I wanted to hate Addison, I actually cheered out loud for her when he emerged from the shower of her hotel room. Yeah I'm a fan.

Friday is my new fave, Men in Trees, which I hear is doing great in the ratings...god I hope my Tivo is hooked up by friday! We've discussed that show so I won't bore you, but my whole family is hooked, and I got themakeupgirl on board too.

Then there is dancing with the Stars and Ugly Betty which is super cute and comes on right after Grey's. I love America Ferrara and Vanessa Williams is so over the top nasty its just delightful!

Last but not least is Desperate Housewives which after falling flat last season has my undivided attention. At least I don't have to deal with another sopranos debacle this year. So this is why I love abc, and why if my damn digital cable ever gets connected properly I will be right in front of my Tivo every night of the week.

Monday, October 02, 2006

Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves

Evening folks! I am pleased to report that I have officially moved on up to the east side. I am safely snuggled into my one room in the corner of my parents house right next to my teenage son. What a proud moment. Now I know this is all for the greater good, however I can't help but feel that I have written my own eulogy. Here lies Avin, moved home at thirty, enough said.

Speaking of the move, it was just slightly worse than that time I packed myself into about 5 trashbags and slept on a kiddie mattress on my sister in laws section 8 apartment. Yes folks slightly worse. It was much worse than escape from the ghetto 2001, which included an apartment snafu that left me packed into my mothers garage during the September 11th tragedy. Yes folks this one takes the cake.

Let me start by saying that I am well versed in the art of moving. I have moved about 10 times in the last 15 years. I can pack anything, and fast. With that said I have only used a mover once before. That mover didn't really count though. It was a Army Transportation move that I went and scheduled one day in the little office behind "In Processing" up at Ft. Meade. I say it doesn't count because they came and put all my shit into boxes, catalogued it, and shipped it to Georgia.

Sure they broke one of my favorite Pfaltzgraff plates, lost the remote to the TV (before the invention of universal remotes) and broke the wood in our hand me down sofa, but the move was smooth, and all I had to do was say "put it there". Like I said it doesn't count. There wasn't any bullshit or haggling or threats, nooooo there was just packing, shipping and unpacking. How I miss Uncle Sam and his merry band of transportation specialists.

Somehow, I managed to get roped into getting a mover this time. By roped I mean forced by my mother. My dear sweet deluded mother who's last move was in 83 to the house I now call home. She is not only completely In the dark about things like rental rates, storage bin costs and movers she is completely oblivious to the fact that I have moved more times than I can count without the benefit of a mover. Just me, some men, some beer and a U-Haul.

I know what you're thinking, I must be the type that stands over to the side and says "put it there". Now despite the Army story, I am not that girl. Uncle Sam makes you stand back and do that crap for legal, liability type reasons. Besides, any former military persons or spouses know that if you get hurt on Uncle Sam's watch, you are only gonna get some Motrin and an ace bandage, its just not worth it. I say all that to point out that I haul my own shit.

I do just as much as the fellas I supply with breakfast, lunch, cold water and beer. I cut my nails off and get crunk with it. I know how to get the job done. Apparently, these are facts that my mother just didn't seem to fine impressive or interesting. I tried my best to skirt the mover issue, but she wouldn't let it go, and I have been trying out this non confrontational thing where I don't fight with my blood relatives every week. So I got a damn mover.

Not just any mover. I got a respected local mover who had been in business for umpteen years and assured me that my 3rd floor, two stop, storage bin move would be no problem. So Wednesday, these movers called to confirm my move date, negotiated dollar amount, time of arrival, number of crew members and to remind me that it was a 4 hour minimum charge, plus one hour for transportation. A fucking 5 hour move!! No one said that shit on the phone when I called. What the fuck do you do at that point though? Who else you gonna get to come get your shit two days before move day, the second to last day of the month. Who I ask you?

So I did the math, adjusted my account and attitude and soldiered on. Then Friday came, move day. I waited with my mother and her sisters for 12pm. Which came and went. I call, they say "shortly". 2pm, I call "oh they aren't finished at the first move" they say. Maybe 5pm they say. What the fuck I say! 5 hour move, 6 pm arrival, storage closes at 9pm, um excuse me but that's not gonna work. I aint paying for 5 hours when I can only get 3. I express my displeasure politely to the head asshole. He says "that's out policy". I again explain that 3 hors is not 5 hours. He again ignores me. I proceed to pitch a full on bitch complete with emphasis on "fucking outrageous" and " I aint paying for that shit".

Magically, movers call. They arrive, drunk. Or at least on their way to drunk. Maybe they were just passing through buzzed, but they all smelled like a distillery. They start packing it up at 5pm. Present me with paperwork. For those that don't know, I eat sleep and breathe contracts. I obsessively read contracts all day, checking and re checking, summarizing, and editing. That is my whole life...Contracts. So when I say I read the fine print on that low budget ditto copy contract, I aint blowing smoke.

I checked that shit for loopholes and general bullshit, cause their behavior up until their arrival had been sketchy at best. So I reluctantly signed, and started directing traffic. One hour and a half later, whole place is packed, and we are off to mom's. 10 min stop at mom's and on to Storage. We arrive and the lead drunk wants to settle up. Fine whatever, we are WELL under 5 hours and I took elementary math. I owe somewhere around $800. I will do what I can to explain this accurately, but I was temporarily insane for a while.

The lead drunk Al, informed me that I owed them $1339 and some odd change. First the room spun, then it got really warm, and then I think I blacked out. I do recall using the word "fuck" a lot, and calling my mother and father and asking them to come out and figure that shit out. I recall asking for Al to "itemize that shit" and I remember "the boyfriend" walking me over to a corner. I let them take over at that point because I was feeling real violent at the time.

Apparently this fucker and his boss were trying to work me, till they realized that lawyer-dad wasn't having that shit. There was some babble about stair charge and gas fee and some surcharge BS, oh and the best was the charges for packing materials that they won't move you without, but I couldn't get involved at that point.

Talking about, we told you over the phone. First, no you didn't, and second its not in your Playschool Contract, trust me I checked. I let "the boyfriend" and the old folks handle that shit. My ass was just too fucking angry. I know you are thinking, why not just tell em to fuck off? I would have, but they still had my shit, and basically they knew it. After some seriously annoying Attorney questioning, Al the drunk "realized" (read: gave up) and said "oops we made a mistake. Its an hour and a half unload, not a 4 hour unload, our mistake.

Motherfucker please! You're bullshitting, get over yourself already. We didn't finish till 8:50, thanks to those fucks. So like I said, it was a mess. Dad is going to pursue it, and I am never using a mover again. Drunk fuckers! So here is your plug All My Sons Moving and Storage. Fuck you very much for trying to dick me over. If its not in the contract I don't owe you and your alkie employees shit. Especially when the boyfriend did most of the unload.

Wheww I just realized how long this post is! More tomorrow, night!

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Sorry I'm Not Home Right Now...Walking Into Spiderwebs

But leave a message and I'll call you back.

I feel guilty, cause I haven’t updated this thing and its clear that some of you who come here to read about my antics have checked for new stories or new evidence of my mental issues (yes, I see you over there at the APA) for your case study and I have just been MIA. Well that’s because ladies and gentlemen I have been engaged in battle. The move from hell is upon me and between work and packing I am just a mess. I am sure I will have all sorts of funny stories about the fighting temptations next door or the local chapter of MS-13 once I get back to some version of normal, but until then I will be living off caffeine and concealer. Oh and BTW Terrell "Attention Whore" Owens, you aint slick. Go nurse your broke ass finger and stop being on my TV. The curse of the Eagles is upon you, and in the words of Jay-Z, "We dont believe you, you need more people." Thats what happens when you fuck with Philly.


Thursday, September 21, 2006

One Of These Things Is Not Like The Other...much

Every time the new Anthropologie catalogue comes my momma gives me the side eye. You know that look where she cant quite understand why I like their clothing. I personally love their stuff, but you would never know it to look at me. I am an office girl, so I dress like an office girl. Slack, sweater, heels and sometimes I will throw a dress on, but its not often. I don’t do fashionista at the office. Frankly it’s just too difficult.

I used to work downtown and everyone dressed alike. Slacks, button down, heels or Skirt, sweater, heels. There was no deviation from the program. This is the nation’s capital for god sakes! The only place where men’s standard summer dress is a blue button down and khakis. There are a sea of them down there right now probably milling about the corner of 17th and Penn with the faux homeless guy aka Secret Service Agent and the Pervy Persian in the hot dog cart. I say this to emphasize that when it comes to work fashion, I usually go with standard. Now, I really like unconventional style but basically I can’t justify it. I can’t by trendy pricy items to run up and down the stairs like a mad woman all day. No one cares if my new cute belt matches my shoes if all they see is a curly headed blur. That said I still want those clothes.

So the new catalog came last night, and in normal fashion I start flipping through it, entranced by $380 shoes and dresses made of knit, and chiffon. I usually pick out the things I love, go back through and weed out the impossibilities and then show the rest to mom who regards them all in the same way. Blank stare, looks at me in disbelief, looks closer, face looks like eating a lemon, asks “You like THIS”, points to page in horror, rolls eyes, hands back catalogue.

So you say Avin, why show her if you know she is going to hate it? Ahh who knows really, I mean I could say it’s because I know someday she will think that their clothing is as amazing as I think it is, but that would be a big fat lie. I could say it’s because I think she just isn’t seeing the possibilities within the designs, but that would just be crazy. No folks that not why I do it. I do it because I actually enjoy the exchange. Part of me breathes a sigh of relief when I realize that though I am turning into her, I am not her yet and thank god for that! I like that she turns her nose up at the 4 inch leopard print pumps I so dearly covet from Bebe. I enjoy that her idea of sophistication does not involve red Mary Jane’s and a wide red leather belt. I enjoy that while we are so clearly alike, we are still so very different.

I think we will always be similar in mannerism and attitude. We are virtually impossible to tell apart over the phone, and even though people who don’t know us that well think I am my aunts child, it only takes one conversation to know who I belong to. I didn’t inherit her skin tone, her body style, her nose or her eyes. She isn’t the reason I love being barefoot, procrastinate or love makeup and writing. She is the reason my hair looks like a damn Chia Pet, I will worry myself into a grave and why I’ll never back down from a fight. She is the source of so many good things about me, and so are her sisters but I like that at the end of the day, I am still just Avin. Writing short stories, eating sushi, singing about Crunk Juice, slathered in MAC and contemplating a new outfit from Anthropologie.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

So She Really Is Crazy

We’re going to do something pleasant today because I seem to have frightened you all with my tirade yesterday. It bees like that some times folks. I cant help how I feel, but I guess I can sort of curtail how it comes out. I’ll try to kirk out at home from now on where people expect it.

We are going to talk all about Tea’s of the world and how much I like them. I am one of those oddball people with a tea infuser and bags of loose tea from the natural herb shop stuffed into my cabinets. Now I don’t typically come off like a tea person, but that’s because if given the option between Lipton and Coffee, I am taking coffee every time. I my friends am a tea snob.

Sad but true but my most coveted find in Europe was an assortment of loose teas from the Queen’s Grocer Fortnum & Mason in London. That and a jar of rare white orange blossom honey for my mom. She never uses it of course, but she also never lets anyone touch it either. This aint biscuit honey and she will really let you know it. Mom is protective of her gifts like that, but back to Tea.

I drink tea every day, at least three times a day, and mostly green tea. Part of me loves the healing and cleansing nature of tea, the other part is just jonsing for caffeine. I am sort of a strange person anyway, so its not bizarre to see me with a big cup of tea while I enjoy my latest dirty south CD. So, these days I am drinking this Allergy Tea I got at Smile every morning before work, two cups of green at the office before noon. Another cup at about 4pm, but I try to mix that one up and drink a Chai. Chai is great, but I am still off sugars, so Chai has lost a bit of its charm with me. Not that I ever drank any of my teas with sugar to begin with but I don’t like Chai tea without sweetener, it just seems wrong. I will however drink and Earl Grey that way but it seems such the normal thing to do.

During the winter months I typically hit up the Asian market and buy Red Ginseng Tea. I like that with fresh sliced ginger root. Yes I carry ginger root, I am such a damn hippie. A girl at my old job swore by it, and drank it every day as an immune system booster. According to her very persistent Asian mother, it was best with fresh ginger root. During a particularly bad cold, she stopped past my desk with the concoction and I was forever grateful. My cold was history in two days and I immediately got some for myself.

I’ve even stopped buying my crazy ass Grande White Mochas and started getting a Grande Green Ginger. My main concern with the move was that I was getting ready to move a butload of tea into a house that already has more than its share. I mean, I drink it pretty fast but my momma gets vexed about duplicates in her house. I think I need like a bin strictly devoted to tea with some sort of locking device, so she cant get in it and start deciding what stays and what goes. My son would be highly upset if she rifled through or trifled with his Vanilla Carmel tea that I make every morning for him in the winter. I’ve been known to steep some allergy or ginseng into his tea just to prevent the stray cold. It worked last year, and as long as its sweet he isn’t ever going to notice.

So enjoy a spot of tea on me, as penance for that nonsense yesterday. Take it easy yall.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

I Dont Get It

Why does everyone think I should be somewhere grinning like a Cheshire cat and singing climb every mountain. Yay no cancer, Yay surgery! Boy, you sure are lucky to be having surgery! Go somewhere and smile about it! It wont be that bad, just think about how lucky you are! You only have to have surgery! Well whoopee fuckin doo! Ya’ll will pardon the fuck out of me for being not one bit happy, elated, relieved, or generally excited about having surgery. Yes I am greatful its not cancer, yes I am glad that they are going to do something about it. No I am not gonna turn a fucking cartwheel about being out of work, or being in pain, or otherwise inconvenienced by this bullshit. I am in no way downplaying the major amount of support I have receieved from family, friends and all of you. I am just simply a little rattled at the idea that people think surgery is suddenly something to smile about.

Oh ha ha lets laugh about it Avin, lets lighten up! Lets make it a fun joke thing where we can discuss everyday why you aren’t beaming with motherfucking rays of sunshine about it. Truth of the matter is I am done crying about it. I have just decided I am going to be angry. I have decided to put this surgery on the list right under being told I look like Tisha Campbell. I am just gonna be pissed off before, during and most decidedly after this whole fucking ordeal. Just like I now consider that fuckin Gina from Martin crack a scathing insult, I consider this surgery in conjunction with happiness a blatant attempt to insult my fucking intelligence.

You go be fucking happy about surgery, I am going to go break something.

Friday, September 15, 2006


Got My Eight’s on But They Look Like Sixes, you wearing some 10’s But My Eight’s are Hittin! Okay okay enough channeling The Pack. I just wanted to comment on my amazing weightloss. Well less than amazing cause it required me to give up practically everything for two solid months. To be honest I am still not eating starches, dairy, white flour or sugar. I have it occasionally. Like yesterday I had a burrito bowl from Chipotle. Chicken with a smidgen of rice and mostly salsa and cheese. No sour cream please and thanks. I meant to post this yesterday when I slid into my size 8 Banana Republic slacks. I even had room to spare! It was real nice being back in my favorite slacks again.

Two weeks ago when “The Boyfriend’s” son came to visit us, I allowed myself to have the tiniest size Coldstone Creamery. It was heaven….I also didn’t sleep well and felt terrible all night long. It felt like I ate a brick and your girl was NOT a happy person behind it. My girl Tia had a very similar experience with a bowl of Angel Hair pasta a few weeks ago. She quickly retreated to the comfort of a salad. Said she wont ever attempt that again.

So it looks like I don’t have to throw out all my 8’s and start wearing a paper sack, big relief trust me. I haven’t been running though, cause I’ve mainly just been packing or attempting to pack in preparation for “Escape From The Ghetto 2006”. If I ever find the CD with all my old crap on it, its got a blog (or what I called then an online journal entry) about “Escape from the Ghetto 2001”. I might add “back to the suburbs” to this one, but hey who knows. Its funny because I really thought my old apartment was the shittiest and that I was actually upgrading to the one I am leaving now. Well, I gotta say, at least the old one didn’t have MS-13 lingering around my doorstep. I will dig for it tonight and see if I can entertain you all with the story of my move.

Its funny but I was clicking through my favorite blogs today and I watched a clip of some girls just involved in some general nonsense. Making up songs, and acting loud and wrong. Its weird but you can only really not give a fuck once in life, and its when you are young. There’s no one looking over your shoulder or giving you the evil eye, and frankly if they do, you don’t care. You are just happy and free and it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks of you. My moment was being on the red line, after the fireworks with friends and singing the entire song “They Want EFX” by Das Efx. Sure we were flat out wrong for doing it, but it was fun and at the time I wasn’t thinking about how much I annoyed the other riders, I was just happy, in my cut off jean shorts and either Batman or Guess Jeans t-shirt. I always wore my bangs sprayed straight up and curled in what my mother referred to as “the waterfall”. My makeup situation started back then with a purse full of Lancôme products and Princess Marcella Borghese lipstick in Magenta. I was bummed when they discontinued it. I mean how was I supposed to look like Salt without the Magenta lipstick???

So do you remember your one free moment? Where you just didn’t care? Share with me, I am feeling nostalgic.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Clothing Optional

For those who still think Tittygate was really a “Wardrobe Malfunction, and that somehow Janet got thrown under the bus, I submit to you exhibit A.

Second single video w/ dirty ass Khia

Yeah Janet, I can see you’re excited. I mean your damn clothes keep falling off every 3rd cut. Oh hell who am I kidding, this is like exhibit P or Q by now. Janet’s nekkid ass been all over every publication in the country for months now. Personally I am sick of her talking about being freaky with the micro midget. I am also extra sick of her and this “nasty girl” image. I mean obviously she likes her sex, and apparently she likes it with midgets, but damn, can someone cut me a Janet break already?? I don’t need to know all these things about her personal life, and I damn sure don’t need to see the infamous nipple trying desperately for the last of its 15 minutes of fame. Put it away Penny Woods, just put it away. Anyway, I am happy to see they relegated Khia’s involvement to being on a random ass TV in the background. Looks like either Janet or the lollipop guild took a moment from their hectic sex schedule to actually think that one through.

Speaking of Tittygate, Justin’s CD is the beast. I am loving it *circa Justin does McDonalds 2004* and I don’t care what anyone says. Justin is my homeboy from now on. I am not elevating his ass to Stan status yet, but I am pleased with the result of Future Sex/Love sounds. That kid aims to please…which he goes into detail about. I had to rewind track 9 cause I really thought I was hearing things. I wont get into what I thought I heard but if you listen careful after the first chorus, um…let just say he went there with it. Whewww is it hot in here?? Anyway, that’s it for me, lunch is over and well, like Rick Ross says “Everyday I’m Hustlin.”

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Have You No Shame???

I didn’t think it was possible but Travis Barker managed to stomp on the image of what I thought was a decent husband and father. I wasn’t going to take sides in the Shanna vs. Travis divorce debacle until I saw this.

This makes me want to retch and frankly anyone who is willing to get with Paris Hilton loses all sorts of cool points with me, and Travis had a bunch. Sure most folks think he is a scary looking dude, and I will admit that before Meet the Barkers I really thought something was wrong with the boy. He is painfully thin and blanketed in as many tattoos as he could possibly get. Now, we all know I like tattoos, so that isn’t the issue, its basically the painfully thin issue. Well it WAS that, because now its him making out with that parasite. Funny, I never realized how close her name is to that word, but there it is, staring at me like the blood sucking little brainless twit she is.

Anyone who ever watched Travis on Meet the Barkers thought “damn he is a good man” especially with Shanna laying around so much like she did. Shanna is beautiful, but she is extra on the lazy side. I mean that didn’t stop her from acting or being Oscar De LaHoya’s baby momma, or winning Ms. USA. She seemed sweet, and he seemed sweet and when the whole mess went down I decided not to play favorites. Oh my how the mighty have fallen. First I hear about a public altercation with Shanna, then I see some old grainy ass photo of what is supposed to be him and the dumb ass making out. I had reserved judgment because I just couldn’t make out who the hell that pic was supposed to be of. But this! This takes the cake! Making out at a Kanye West event is a violation in and of itself, but with that thing??? What the hell will your kids think? Little Landon and Alabama going to visit daddy and his tramp. Seriously, I mean I just need a moment to process this bullshit.

I know Shanna is having herself a full on coronary episode behind this. I mean you go from being so in love with a man that you cant bare to see him leave on tour to having to throw a damn drink at his ass and explain why yall are divorcing on Dancing With the Stars! Come on folks, I mean am I crazy, cause to me this shit aint right. All I can hope is that Travis is on some sort of drug that has rendered him completely stupid. I mean, I watched him cuss out a wedding planner to get his soon to be wife the wedding of her dreams at any cost. I watched your wife search all over creation for the car of your dreams, and this is how you end it? This is why I have now decided I am on Team Shanna.

Honestly, Paris has to be the most prolific homewrecker in history. I have yet to understand her appeal, or her purpose on this earth. It boggles the mind why anyone sees fit to associate with her let alone make out with her in public. So, I say this to Travis Barker, the man I thought was a good role model. You are setting yourself up for some sort of Fred Durst-like publicity nightmare dealing with this broad. Remember when old Freddy professed his love for Britney Spears and got carried like a bag of Idaho Gold’s??

Yeah buddy, that’s gonna be you. But instead of just tucking your tail and going into hiding (and releasing that Croatian-cold war nightmare of an album) you will be left to explain to your friends, family and children why you sought to take up with a painted up troll. Even if you didn’t want to be with Shanna anymore, you could have had some decency and picked someone else. Maybe Carmen Electra, I mean she is single these days. Or perhaps you just coulda kept your biz out of the streets. Just went a long, did your +44 thing with Mark Hoppus and emerged on the other side a little older and wiser.
Lets just be honest, there were a ton of ways this could have gone, and most of those options were better than this.

Dancing With The Stars

Okay so this show is a guilty pleasure for me. Its always been a little hokie with the damn D list celebs and the corny Russian and Slavic dancers, but that’s not important. What is important is how entertained I am, and frankly I was pretty damn entertained. A few questions though.

1. Where the hell is Joe Lawrence’s hair? Someone call Beverly Johnson and get him a piece STAT
2. Doesn’t Tucker Carlson remind you of the one partner you hoped you would never get during that half semester of square dance in 6th grade gym?
3. Who knew Emmitt Smith could move like that? I see Martin’s ex-wife was there to support her man.
4. Vivica looks just like Madam don’t you think?
5. Where the fuck has Willa Ford been the last 6 years?
6. Someone hit A.C. Slater in the face or something, he is like my 13 year old hopped up on rock candy and Jolt Cola.

So far its good, and I am not irritated yet, but I am sure it wont be long before something Master P-like occurs and causes me to yell at the screen.

Men In Trees

New series on ABC, and sad to say I think I like it. I still have trouble buying that Anne Heche is un-gay now, but whatever. The writing is good, the characters are lovable and I might give it a spin provided it doesn’t interfere with Lost. I can only Tivo one thing at a time people. Its about a relationship coach, who is on her way to Alaska for a seminar and a book signing when she discovers her fiancé is cheating on her. When she arrives in Alaska it becomes apparent that the one thing she was hoping to get far away from is the one thing she cant escape, MEN. “They’re everywhere, even in the trees” she says to her editor. Which, in fact they are, cutting limbs and such. Of course she decides to stay and write her next book about men. I really love her editor, and her new love interest. I can see a slow boil there. So anyway check it out, its worth a look-see.