Is It Almost September Already?!?!

Well....whodathunkit?

August is more than half at completion. I feel like the month just zoomed right on by. And there are so many things that have [and have not] transpired. It's crazy to think about! Ahhhh!

Back to Kenny who was referred to in the last blog....I find it amusing that he recently added me on Facebook. He is allegedly single, and looking for friendships and relationships. How cute! It's funny how people's lives are so drastically different when you compare their Myspace to their Facebook, isn't it? I'll be deleting my Myspace next year. This is just effing ridiculous.

In other news...I met a guy, right? And it's crazy, because we are both from Virginia, and we have a lot in common, and we have a lot of fun hanging out. He is an all-around really considerate and really nice person. We are JUST friends. Now, I am the first to admit that most dudes who say "Oh, I am just trying to make friends" are lying like cheap Persian rugs. But thus far, he's been noble. I get the feeling that he is feeling me. And I, admittedly, and feeling him to an extent as well. But as usual, there's a fun and exciting twist! He is married.

Yes, people. Married. Like, "I do." married. It's one of those handy "contract marriages" with some girl in the Navy. I find the whole thing simply fascinating, really. Like, who knew? Well...he knew. And now, I know. Not that it's admissable because of those two things. I am not too worried, because as always, my interest will wane. School starts on Monday, and please believe...I am not the slightest bit concerned. I already know I'm in the game. Fresh look, fresh attitude, and a smile on my face? It's nothing! Maybe I'll even have a boyfriend this year. Big maybe...seeing as that really isn't my thing. But hey, a girl can dream, right?

Now funny things I have heard this month:

From my Cochina: "I have a bullet, but the wiring shorted. So I need to get a new one."
Me: "Bullet? What's that?"
Cochina: "Shut up. You know what a bullet is."
Me: "Like, in a gun?"
Cochina: "The vibrator!! Don't act dumb! I know you know what it is!"
Me: [totally DIDNT know this!] "Ahhhh! WTF?!?! Wait....the wiring shorted?" [pause in the parking structure because I am doubled over laughing SUPER hard.]
Cochina: "OMG! Not like THAT! It just messed up!"
Me: "Riiiiight!" [Continue laughing hysterically.]
Cochina: "There's nothing wrong with that. You need to flick your bean, Sondra!"

I almost died at that point. But let me tell you...one of the most interesting conversations, ever!

And then, my girl Ashley....she was talking about how her dude takes FOREVER when they are bumping fuzzies....and she said "Sondra....he takes soooo long. I told him, I am going to set the timer on my phone, and when it goes off, we are DONE!" and I asked her what he said, and she replies "He said, 'you better not.'" Classic!

Oh! Ok! Next! So....we go to Deco's last Friday night...hair all done, all wearing short cute dresses, and just totally killing. We shut the dance floor down as usual, command attention as we walk thru the rooms of the club, end up in VIP with a shot of Patron compliments of some random dudes....and then BAM! Candace loses her purse. Or it lost her. Whatever you wanna call it. I didn't see, so yeah. In the purse?? Her phone, business cards, ID, debit card, Desirees keys, camera and Desirees money. So....guess who drove? Desiree! We talk to security, talk to the people in VIP with us, and keep looking for it. No such luck. At some point after that, I am sitting on the VIP bed, and the DJ comes and sits down and tells me he remembers me. I look at him, and ask from where. He says "You drive a white Saturn. You were mean to me in the parking structure." I laugh...and lowkey scramble to remember, kuz that is TOTALLY my moms car that I always drive, and Quane and I ALWAYS park in the structure to save time, and protect the car from hoodlums. He says I gave him a sideways stank face, with a matching attitude after the club one night. I really don't believe him, but I gotta say...in the event this is true...can you BALME me? The end of the night? You have read the stories! After all those shenanigans, I am supposed to be nice to the parking lot pimps? NO! Heck no! And seriously, I believe that is the night I thought I locked the keys in the car. [Did you know? You can't lock the keys in the car if you don't actually lock the car. Talk about DUMB luck.] After talking some more, and explaining the situation, he gives me his card and tells me to call him when we come out so he can hook us up...he is the main afternoon DJ for Jammin Z90.3! Wow! He is really nice, and we are going to have a True Blood day soon, he DVR's all of them! Nice!

It's interesting how I keep coming across a bunch of really cool guys lately. I just pray he isn't married. Lord willing.

K guys....have a fun, safe and ridiculous weekend!
<3

Tales of [not so much] Romance from the Big Narcissistic Insomniac with OCD.

[Aka...why I need medical insurance, so I can get some damn ambien already.]

Ok. So Bandace calls me this morning, and we had a LOVELY chat, as usual. She texts me later saying "DO NOT READ THIS TEXT TIL LATER. GO TO SLEEP." and then texts me again to inform me that the guy who was on my sack at her birthday party just added her on myspace. She goes to his page. He has a BabyMama, full frontal, and like, at LEAST 2 kids...right? Ok. So we aren't shocked, I'm sure. He is a 26 year old man with a full time job, an iphone, and a car. I would have been kidding myself if I thought all of that wanted lil old me, no strings attached. HA! I am hopeful...but not quite that hopeful. I know where I live. Lol. So yeah...I go look at the page, and I kinda couldn't stop laughing...because honestly? The fool used to have this looooong hair....looking like some crazy pimp....ROFL. it was good times. I needed that laugh! For real.

Now there are a few things I'd like to analyze concerning this situation.

1. I say he was "on my sack" because I am becoming more familiar, albeit comfortable with the fact that I am always going to wear the pants in these situations. I am always accused of "acting like a nigga" and im sure people are always wondering why my ass doesn't have a man[other than the fact that i am crazy, don't really filter anything that I say, and I don't wear a size 9. but whose paying any attention, really?]

2. After the hotel shindig, the MF emailed me on my phone and asked for my number. We talked ALLLL day. While he was at work, when he got off work, etc. He's talking about "We should go see a movie at the Drive-In" [got me messed up...but its the thought that counts, right?? Besides, its not like it happened.]blah blah. He sends me a pik the next day, it doesnt work, i tell him it doesnt work [I didnt even ASK for it. I didn't forget what the negro looked like for crying out loud. He said something about "Can't have you confusing me with the ten other niggas I know you must be talking to. gotta hold my place in line! front of the line!"] [oh. for the record? there isn't THAT long of a line. I was admittedly talking to Darris at the time, but we were just talking. No reason I couldn't talk to Kenny too. I'm flattered you think that many other dudes have my attention, or want it or whatev, but you're lowkey calling me a ho. Stop that.] and after that?? Nothing. Cricket, Cricket. Silence. Hush over the world, as far as the fool is concerned.
Enter July 4th. I get a text...."Happy Fourth of July Boo." mmmhmmm. Breaks 3 days silence with that? Really? Aren't you 26? I coulda SWORE you were. Hmmm. But that's all I get? So, being the nigga I am..."Back at you playa. Thanks." ROFL. Nice. After that?? Nothing again.

3. I didn't really care so much, or even think about it for that matter, until today. I was so busy wondering where I went wrong in the Darris situation, that I wasn't even thinking about Kenny! And then I realized something. These niggas are just the same. 26 years old, and established...but they wanna keep secrets and then treat ME like IM a kid. Funny boys. They both got kids, and don't talk about em. Both got jobs, but ain't tryna talk about their day like that. Both recently drastically changed their hair styles...you know what!?!?! 26 year olds aint worth not a penny more than a 21 year old. I can deal with this kinda B.S. with a nigga my own age! And, chances are, the chances of them having a kid are about .76 percent slimmer! So HA, simple niggas! You may be grown...but you aren't adults. You still tiptoe around reality, hoping I won't ask. Hoping I won't "accidentally" find out. [F.Y.I.? Adding one of my Besties on myspace? Not gonna help that cause.] Hoping I won't put your idiot selves on blast.

4.They don't stop talking to me because I am crazy. Or I say the wrong thing. Or I don't do the right thing. Or there's someone prettier. No. Not it.

They stop talking to me, because they KNOW i am NOT that broad. You ain't finna have me looking dumb. And THAT's what I did. I was myself, and let it be known that the fastest way to lose my attention is to be hella stupid with it. I don't disqualify dudes kuz they have kids, if they take care of em. I ain't saying you gotta call me all the time, or talk about work and life with me. I ain't asking all that. All I am asking, is that you put pertinent information out there in the BEGINNING. It is simply the RESPECTFUL thing to do. If I had 3 kids by 8 baby daddies and didn't tell you? Shoooot. Mess would hit the fan. If you gotta girl, say so. Because I won't appreciate it when she comes at me crazy when I didn't know all the while I was texting you that you were probably calling me your cousin or something. It's not hard. Really. I know a lot of girls say they want this...and I won't speak for all of them...but I will speak for ME and say I AM SERIOUS.

Ask Deshawn. I know he has a girlfriend. He won't tell me. But I told him. And he avoids the whole conversation. So what do I do? I ignore it too. And when he asks when we are gonna kick it? I bring it up again. Because I am no homewrecker. Even if your gf is a two bit, cross-eyed, sluttycakes. Her bad. I can see why you'd run in this direction. Girls with ambition...I can see the appeal, for sure. AT LEAST I HAVE A CHOICE WHEN I KNOW! If I don't know...you're in the wrong, and when things get ugly...I'm gonna have to whoop EVERYONES ass. And that is really just dos muchos, dig me?? But I get sooo bored that I just like talking to him on the phone. And it's safe, kuz he pays me all this attention, and all these compliments...but I can use his gf as an excuse not to bother. It's really too bad...kuz I like a lot of things about him. Silly boy....anyways.

Ugh. I still haven't slept. I have all these thoughts already swimming through my head, and these on top of that were just unnecessary. I know that I act a bit high and mighty...but I don't see why I, let alone all of you, shouldn't. We keep getting dirty kuz we're digging in the trash. It's frustrating when you think you're looking and playing in the right place, and then you get surprises like this. I am blessed, because the Lord always seems to make these people take their own quiet exit cues...I spose thats a perk of having no filter...I don't say anything they're tryna hear. But really? I wanna be in a relationship too, you know! I want those cute lil kissy face piks and I wanna go on dumb ass double dates just to show someone off. Jeez! Is that so much to ask?!?! Am I really not getting it because I have STANDARDS?!?! REALLY?!?!

Ok. I admit it. Maybe I wear the pants on purpose, at times. I am difficult. Narcissistic. OCD. I have insomnia. I don't always know when to shut up. I laugh at nothing. I speak my mind. I hit kinda hard on purpose. And I look mean when I am not smiling. But I am a nice person, overall. And I am good in relationships, given a reason to be in one. So I'd really just appreciate it if these BOYS would stop making me wear the pants all the time.I'd like to stop having to grab hands and lead, and have someone else grab my hand and lead the MF way for once. I start to thinking there is something wrong with me. But guess what? There is nothing wrong with expecting the BEST. Nor is there anything wrong with kicking the obvious ridiculousness to the curb.

Do you know I haven't slept in 32 hours?

I am JUST SAYING!
<3

Insomnia strikes again. Lucky you!

I guess I am just writing because I can. And because I have decided that I need to really dedicate myself to this endeavor. I am funny. I can write. I am talented. I am interesting. And you? You are bored, and you LOVE ME. So, yeah!

I just finished dancing around my room to "Ego" by Beyonce, and "Obsessed" by Mariah Carey. I feel like such a superstar! My celebrity fashion picks for the morning? Well, I am rocking the plum old navy yoga capris, a super comfy cotton gap white tee, and some Sigerson Morrison pumps. Yes. It is true what they say...I am FIERCE! Not Sasha....Fierce. But Sondra....FIERCE! Beyonce is a bit sketchy to me at times...but I can't help but like her, or her catchy songs. She is talented...even if some choose not to think so. She still has more money than all of us, so talking mess about her doesn't really make it any bettter, now does it?

Notice how I throw Sigerson Morrison's name like I have money? Like I can afford his $359 FLATS, let alone pumps? Well, see, that is because I got Sigerson Morrison for Target pumps. On clearance, at that! I believe they were forty bucks, and I paid ten. Why, might you ask? Because I am a freaking Shopping Thug! I can go in any store, locate amazing merchandise, at an even more amazing price, and rock it like it costs more than a million dollars just to get me out of bed every morning! I wish that was truly the case. It's not. I actually have $19 dollars to last me until my next paycheck...in two weeks. Dang cell phone and college bills!

Speaking of clearance...when did middle class America get so freaking Bougeousie?!?! People act like things aren't as good if they are on sale...that's B.S!I bought a fabulous Bisou bisou maxi dress...its pink and coral ombre with some yellow tones in there, with braided straps...too fab for regular daytime wear, but perfection as far as a date or yacht function is concerned[Yes. I have made up my mind I will be attending another yacht function...and bought that dress for when I do, at that!]. And you know, I showed it to a friend, and she LOVED it...until I told her I bought it for 50% of the original price. Let's recap:I got a BISOU BISOU MAXI DRESS for HALF OFF, and she LOVED IT...until I told her I did NOT PAY FULL PRICE FOR IT. Ahem. Brings a new meaning to the term "Crazy B word," yes? At my store, we markdown items about two months after they come out, if we even wait that long. They are a season ahead of trend, in theory, and here in Sunny California...you know, trends are fly by night, but we [all the REAL women and men who like to put their best fashion foot forward, that is] will find a way to work the items we can afford. Especially us poor college folk. So, next time you turn your nose up at the sale rack, and act like the clearance rack is equivalent to rubbing the actual Swine Flu virus in your right nostril? Think about every time you told me how much you liked what I was wearing! Because I never buy anything full price. I am too broke. And even if I wasn't? I still wouldn't, because no matter how much I love fashion? It'll change in the blink of an eye!

Oh...back to the Beyonce song? Let's take the chorus of "Ego" and add a Miss Jo spin to it, shall we? "It's too big. It's too wide. It's too strong. It won't fit. It's too much. It's too tough. I talk like this, 'cuz I can back it up! I got a big....BOOTY!" Hahaha....I secretly have been saying that in my head all this time...but I feel sharing it with the world will give them some of the joy I feel everytime I sing it out loud in my room. If you are so bold as to dance around your room in yoga pants to it, you will know what true bliss feels like. Ahhh....thank you Jesus! Small blessings....amen!

Now then. Next order of business. I was extremely blessed recently with a vehicle. My Other Mother made a way for me to have her old car, and I am super excited, because school is about to start, and I have work things to worry about...and a car will make life soooo much easier! Ahhh! I keep seeing the car everywhere now...I feel like I am part of some secret Dodge Caravan club...even though I don't even have the car in my possession. I haven't even SEEN the car since 2007. LOL. She told me I can have it, and I didn't even go LOOK at it. Because you know what? I am THAT freakin excited. I researched smog checks. And Oil changes. I have an email folder specifically for auto insurance quotes I have been requesting! I even found myself being intrigued by Window Tinting Ads today...even though I am NOT getting the windows tinted! I have a list on my headboard of websites for all of the companies and coupons I have to get together for my next check to get this car business underway! How freaking nuts am I? The funniest part? I am going to be rolling in a minivan...proving Sherissa right when she said I always look like a Soccer Mom. Toooo funny. I am so grateful. And joyful. And blessed. And broke. Lol.

Ok. Ego is playing on Itunes. I think Ima dance ONCE MORE tonight...I mean, come on! I still have the heels on and everything! Maybe I can tire myself out and get some sleep before I have to be at work in approximately 9 hours. YAY me!

Happy Saturday people!
Smooches!
<3

Part I: The Ridiculous Life.

Ok.
Well, where on earth do I start? Perhaps, I should go to the most familiar place. The club/party/kickback scene.

Firstly, I would like to thank all of the little negroes who are gracious enough to give me an ego boost with their gawking, drooling, corny and ridiculous lines, bad game, good game, groping, poking, and cake checking. It's much appreciated, despite it's rather unfortunate outcomes. I mean, who really just goes around grabbing booty all the time? Random booty, at that?!?! I mean, I did that in high school, I won't lie...but it was really just because it was super funny to me...I knew the boys, for crying out loud!
I was at the club the other night, and this guy we always see [but do NOT know] who has this weird House Party lookin hair, and slightly resembles a cute Nick Cannon...he came up behind me, and I promise you he not only HIGHkey put his hands all on my hips like he knew what they could do, but he totally took the cakes in both hands and squeezed em! I looked back like "WTH?!?!?!" and then saw it was him...and he's just grinning! What kinda drink have you been sipping to the point that you just become that audacious? That's how people get shot, where I come from. Lol. And that was just the beginning! I was standing by the restroom in an attempt to monitor the whereabouts of my girls as we had all seperated for various reasons [e.g. negroes] and THREE different dudes cake checked me again! and i can't front...i didn't even go hard on em. I just said "Really?!?!?!" and let it go. Why, you may ask? Well, quite simply...because they acknowledged that I have cakes! I have been tryna tell you people alllll these years, and that is PROOF! so, HA! HA HA HA! I have cakes!!! Mad cakes! YAY! So, I let it slide. But you know...sooner or later, it's gonna get ugly.

Now then. The I.E. has apparently been makin some moves. MTV's Lazar was in the building, acting out the celebrity persona he claims to be. He and his R n B group, 2 Official. Funniest part? One of the dudes, I went to Cajon with him...little dude that I knew as Hancock. I forget his stage name...but I thought it was particularly funny that he came up to me talking about "Aw man, Miss Jo! How are you?!!? Girl, it's good to see you!" See, at Cajon, he and I did NOT get along. I do believe he tried to swing on me once, as a matter of fact! And, we fought daily in Mr. Thompson's physical science class, because he was always saying some ignorant mess that irritated me. You know I just speak on that kinda thing...I don't ignore it. Because quiet as kept, I already didnt wanna be in the class, and dealing with that to boot? Naw. Im good! Anyways. They did not claim the I.E. They were introduced as being from L.A. [ouch!] lol. And they were actually decent. And like all dudes in the I.E. [according to my theory at least] they are strippers in their spare time. Seriously, it's like dudes out there can't form a group of some kind that doesn't involve dancing on a chair, or on someone in one with a shirt off...and I can't understand at what point they evolve into that. I find it hilarious. I also wonder if maybe they learned a move or two at a Freaky Fantasy party...because I know I wasn't the only one having flashbacks...Candace and Quane already know! Lol.
I am JUST SAYING!

Ok. Now then. Let's talk about the negroes some more [after all, they inspire my best material. I give credit where it is due, when I remember to.] For example: One of the dudes I am currently talking to? I like a lot of things about him. I don't claim to "like" him, because quite frankly, I often confuse "like" with my just being so bored that I confuse myself. And also, I am currently a bit bitter about a situation with this other dude I was talking to. He gets on my damn nerves, and I am kinda taking it out on the other one, and his girlfriend. Oh! Wait! I didn't get to that part! Surprise! He has a MF girlfriend. And the best part? He acts like he doesn't. Like she's not on his myspace. Like I'm not going to go look at her myspace [especially when in the display pik, shes outside in leopard chonies and a zebra bra. Can you say skankalicious?!?!] More importantly, like there is ANY comparison whatsoever between the two of us! Some of you [like Janel, and Candace, and Brit and Quane] have been briefed and seen it firsthand. I am sorry I exposed you to such messiness....but I am having trouble understanding why exactly he is blowing me up, and getting so obsessed with spending time with ME, when SHE is apparently his type. I can't figure it out for the life of me. Maybe because we both have Italian moms? fortunately, that is where the similarities stop. Feel free to take a look, and let me know...myspace.com/work_me

_slowli. From the url, you can see she has a magnificent way with words. She is not ugly. She just has a lack of self respect or something. Her bad. He doesn't care to break it down for me, so I'm left with her ridiculous effing myspace page and my own swirl of hilarious, and rather rude thoughts and assumptions. His bad. Their bad. Ugh. Or the other dude I talk to, who insists I am his girlfriend, although we have a mutual friend who would prohibit that from EVER going down. I explain that I am not a dater. And that I am still technically celibate [I used my free pass. And you know what? So worth it. But I'm back to the no nookie thing. Totally rewarding. I remember why I stopped now. smh....]. And that I don't really date. And this fool....you know what he said? "You're making yourself totally unavailable."
Well. DUH! Hello!?!?! Did you hear me!?!?! Kuz thats basically what i JUST said. BUT. I applaud him for picking that up. Most wouldn't. Where he failed was still bothering anyways. If there's one thing that kills me, it's someone who thinks they are going to break me down. Ugh. Get over yourself. I have an iron will....when I want to!

Another thing that kills me? People who constantly call me only when they WANT something. Like I don't know they only communicate with me for their own benefit. Like I haven't understood that for the time, be it years, or simply weeks that I have known them. Granted, my bad for obliging before. But the fact that they get mad when I decide I'm too busy doing me to even THINK about doing for them? Now that? Not only is it a killer...but it's hella funny. Because I think my feelings are supposed to be hurt. Or I am supposed to feel stupid. But in fact, your ish is still sitting there needing Miss Jo's help. And Miss Jo is too busy getting Miss Jo to the top. Real people, real friends...they don't want to stand in the way of that. Funny what you see when you really start looking!

Kings Kup. Woo! That's my ish! Every time I play, I love it more! Especially when I watch people pick the card that gives them rights to truth or dare anyone at the table, and they dare someone to kiss them. That is HELLA thirsty. And my poor Quane...lol. ROFL. Overall....totally a fun time. But...really? I have never seen some mess like that! And for the record, my cakes were confirmed that night too. And? Apparently, according to a new friend I met that night...tan lines are a preference for some oddball dudes. Because when someone was dared to lick my boob, and I refused to do it facing the group, under the pretense that i didnt want the group to see? Said friend chimes in with "Thats ok. We like tan lines." Lying ass n-word. Lol. You like boobs. Keep it real! Hahaha....funny!

Oh! Body shots! That is NASTY! Stop that! I'd like you all to stop and think back to the last time you REALLY took some time to TRULY clean and sanitize your navel. Now. Take that time, and imagine that filth[ lint, or whatever the heck it is] sitting at the bottom of a shot glass. Now...pour some bacardi on that ish, and you got the equivalent of a body shot. Ya'll are hella nasty for that. Lol. I was watching in awe. And please believe, when I got in the shower, I took 4 q-tips with me. Because that was a hell of a wakeup call.

Ok. imsomnia is starting to wear off and make it clear that I may possibly get some sleep...so Ill be signing off. Keep a lookout for more fashion and lifestyle articles by yours truly on AskMsPopular.com, and remember the blog....missjosaidit.blogspot.com

I know I am a bit abrasive sometimes, but I am so tired of holding back what I really wanna say. Not that I do THAT very often. Lol.
Love you all mucho!
<3

Reminiscence from May 8, 2009.

Mmmk.
Karaoke with my dad. He had told me he'd give me forty bucks and pay for Quane and I to eat and all that good stuff, and then, when he goes to give me the money, he gave Quane 20 if it! WTH!?!? Lol. But I know I must really love my SD Bestie, because I wasn't mad, I was happy, kuz that makes her my sister, if I gotta share my moolah, and that means, next time my dad calls me talking dumb, Ima give him her number...see how much U EARN my dad money. lol.

on the other hand, the tortilla soup was bomb, and we did a BOMB rendition of "Bills,Bills, Bills" and at the end she got really ANGRY and was like, shouting "Kan YOU pay MY BILLS" and telling me, over the mic, that she wishes a certain freeloader was there to hear her. WOW! and she said she doesnt sing....lol. I also helped a guy do "Baby Got Back" because he was up there BUTCHERING it...and then he asked me if my boyfriend was outside, I said yes, and asked him to kindly remove his hands from my waist and he says "he'd kick my ass, huh?" Yes. Yes my imaginary boyfriend would.

So Quane and I go to Decos. Super fun...I must admit. Even tho we paid a pricey cover, which was a bit alarming, since we, well, NEVER pay a cover out here....or at Decos!
First, may I point out that the fact that it is 18 and up is kinda silly, because they stop letting in the young'uns at like 11, and then it's all the thirsty, eager ones who are there, because the chill ones about to be 21 cant get in, kuz they show up when the club gets crackin' five minutes after the 21 and up only time.
These kids look RIDICULOUS.
I thank the good Lord, because I KNOW when we weren't 21, we didn't play that.

Now. Moving on....dancing can be really dangerous, because then you get stalked....and i mean Ted Bundy-looking in your window-if you dance with someone else he's watching- Quane has to grab me around the neck and dance with me so he'll back up- poking me with your winkie type stalking.
I love Quane, because she saves me. And I saved her too!
If I had a dollar for everytime I had to say something like "You're about to get got!" or "Incoming!" I would be a VERY rich woman.

I am hella irritated at the fact that I found a tall, semi- Lebron James looking person in the crowd, and somehow managed to lose him...and Quane tried to help me find him again, but I don't know why I always continue to go through this charade knowing that I wouldn't have gone up to him and said anything. Pssh. So....it's up to the ones who don't just try to have eye sex with me from across the dance floor....like the semi- King James!

And what is it, with EVERYONE poking you with their winky when they dance with you? The boy in the argyle sweater, the boy I coulda swore I knew from somewhere, the boy who told me I couldnt handle the boy in the argyle sweater, the boy who has a stalking problem, and the boy who I didn't look back at to begin with. And Quane says that she had the same problem all nite.
I refer to them as boys, seeing as they have no penile control. And I mean, I get it, I'm all grinding on you, and I move pretty nicely, as does Quane. But don't be pullin' us all close to get your fix...that's not cute.
......and then the stalker comes back around, and the homeboys are with us, so Chris helps me out, and dances with me, so my stalker will be put off. Amen.

So when Quane sees some dude with dreads she reaches out and touches his hair, and I'm lookin' at his friend...and then outta nowhere his friend GRABS me, and is over here just dancing with me, and then we go to the bar a few minutes later, and they are there, and he's asking me 21 questions like
"do you drink?" "do you smoke?" "wheres your man at?" [but i will let him slide, kuz he didn't poke me with his winky.]
also....Quane and I have this habit of attracting shady characters, because both of these dudes, are wearing Armani shoes, and ordering Evian and Wine at the bar. Hmmm.
Sidenote: I am SO tired of being asked where my man is, when I'm AT THE CLUB. If i had a man, I would NOT be dancing with you, the way i am. Actually, I'd be a private dancer in my own home.Duh. Ruude.

Night ends with a really kute guy tryna talk to me in the middle of the crosswalk, which was cool until he tried to have some of my Arizona tall can of raspberry iced tea....um, NO! One, Swine flu, boy! Two? I do NOT know where your mouth has been, and you're cute, but that doesn't mean you don't have modern-day "kooties."
Oh no. Not I. I ain't messin wit you. Pssh.

And then Chris' friend is all like, "Yeah Mama our event is on the 23rd..you needa be there"....and Chris says "Ima text ya'll, and let ya'll know where to meet me so you can get in free." and ol boy says "Mmmhmm, Ima get your number from him and text you," and I was tryna be nice, so I just smiled, kuz they had put us in a cab and been nice, so I didn't tell him that Chris meant he was going to text Quane, because he doesn't have my number, he just knows Quane is always with me, lol.
Ahhhh. Niiiiice.

and not to mention, when we're on the sidewalk talking to all of them, our dudes from the bar drive by in a Mercedes, and talk about they're gonna call us....even tho we are surrounded by five other dudes. STILL GOT IT!
I know they're drug dealers.I just KNOW it.

and then, the 22 dollar cab ride home.
that was prolly the worst part of my nite.
Aside from the winky poking. Not cool, dude.

This Goes Out to Jordan Brown the Jerkface.

Mmmk.

May 8, 2009. Went to the club with Quane and Brittney. The night was fun, although a bit odd, seeing as the 18+ spot we went to was a hot mess. But you know, that's why I love my girls...we always make the best of a situation, even if we are laughing the whole night, and pretty much only stuck around because the photographer kept taking our pictures, which showed up on the wall after he takes them...sooooo cool!

Anyways. Back to the point. So, around midnight, maybe even later than that, I take my phone out of my ADORABLE pink clutch [thanks NaeNae!] and see I have a new text from a Mr. Jordan Brown of Riverside, CA. I'd post his myspace link, but you're not missing anything, don't trip. Now, some background on my affiliation with Mr. Brown....I know him because he found me on my sister Trina's myspace page, and also learned he was friends with my boy Aaron from high school. No biggie. I guess he was feelin me or whatever, and being the attention whore that
I am, I entertained by being courteous and responding to text messages and such. I should point out that I made it ALARMINGLY CLEAR that it pretty much wasn't going anywhere. I made no mistake it telling him that I quite simply DO NOT DO relationships. But alas, that is the problem with boys. They think that everything a woman says is simply negotiable. No sir. I say what I mean, and mean what I say. Therefore, when I said you would never be my boyfriend, nor change my mind on the subject, I meant it. Meant it when I said I wasn't really feeling you, too. Pssh.

So. He texts me asking what I am doing. I actually deleted his number back in like, December...so it took me a minute to realize who he was...I only knew because he does that stupid stuff with his spelling...everything l00k$ liik3 thii$.
ick. Convo went something like this[I edited them, simply because when I started going off on him, the texts were like 3 messages long, minimum.]:
Me: "Who is this? Oh wait. I know. I'm Downtown with my girls."
Him: "I know you want to see me. I'm with two of my boys. Are you with any females?"
Me: [stupid freakin....I JUST said....] "Yeah. Two of the besties."
Him: "Are they freaks?"
Me: "Ugh. Don't be disrespectful. What do you want?"
Him: "Well, if we come see you, do ya'll got gas money for the homie?"
Me: [Showing Q and B and getting even more angry, because I HATE stupid. omg.] "Are you for real right now? Three of ya'll, and you don't have gas money? Wow. No. We don't mess with broke niggas lookin for "freaks."
Him: "Wow. You're being a gypsy right now."

I continued to go hard on him, because I could not BELIEVE the audacity of this fool. From jump, he was all stupid questions...and then to top it off, he's making up words?!? Get real. How are you gonna call me a freaking gypsy?!?! What does that even MEAN, for crying out loud? I wear a peasant skirt and hundreds of bangles? What? Enlighten me, because I see NO relevance between my reaction to the situation and gypsies. And I mean, I typically can make a correlation between any two off the wall components. But him? He was just doing the most!
And you know, I asked him to lose my number, because I don't see why he bothers to keep texting me when every time, without fail, I have to ask him to identify himself, and once again tell him it's NEVER GONNA HAPPEN.

Ugh.

On the up side, Candace and I now have an inside joke...I told her the story, and she always laughs and tells me she has been throwing around "You're such a gypsy!" and "Don't be a gypsy" just for fun, because she is so tickled by the whole thing. I can't say I blame her, because it is pretty freaking ridiculous on a real level. Moving on....

Jordan Brown...I am CALLING YOU OUT.
Because you are just so ridiculously oblivious to the fact that the things you do and say are not appealing in the least. I hope that maybe by shedding some light on where and why exactly you went wrong, maybe you will make some kind of attempt to get your act together. Maybe then, you'll have better luck.
But please, still delete my number if you haven't already done so. I forgive, but I won't be forgetting THAT. Hence, why you are still a topic at all.

That's all folks....have a good one.
And please, don't be a gypsy....lol.

Ooooh, I don't LIKE you.

Breathe.
Breathe.
Hee Hee. Hoo Hoo.

Welp, that didn't work. So it's time for me to unload my burdens on my wonderful internet friends, because well, face it: i like telling you things, you like reading things, and I value all of your input!

Here's the thing.
I absolutely DETEST, DESPISE, REBUKE, CANT STAND, and even HATE when dudes talk to me stupid. Now, my version of stupid in this note deals with the following:

"Oh girl, you're a big sexy thing!"
Ahem. I am NOT a girl (not yet a woman, I see you Jess!lol). I am extremely disgruntled at the fact that you feel it necessary to point out painfully obvious things like, oh idk, my SIZE! Yes, you like big. But if you like me because I'm big, I can't mess with you. There are some strange, and frankly very ALARMING stigmas attached to big girls, and I'll have no part of that. No sir. Not I. I guess I can see how "I love me some big girls" SHOULD flatter me, but I guess there's a problem with my acceptance switch. And then, when you get mad at me for not falling all over you, I'm a fat bitch. Interesting.
Reminds me of the time Rhonda's friend said "You're pretty for a big girl! And you don't smell like bacon!"
Whoooo boy. I wont EVER forget that one, yo.

'You're really pretty for a big girl" or "You don't look like most big girls!"
OMG! Well THANKS! I'm so glad that I broke through the barriers of your arrogant and biased mind! YAY FOR ME! I bet next, you're gonna tell me that I'm short for a tall girl, or dumb for a smart person. I bet your IQ amounts to less than my age. I just know it.
You're really nice for an ASSHOLE.

"Ooh, you're light skinned and got that good hair!"
WTF?!?!?! Are you SERIOUS right now? Are those your two major requirements? If so, you're in for a lifetime of ridiculous, because Heaven forbid your standards reach for something like, oh, BRAINS or WIT, or even CHARM?!?!?! WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YA'LL? You think your Daddy married your Momma kuz she was light skinned with good hair? Kuz if so, there are two problems here: Light skinned boys never say that. And two, obviously that retarded thinking is genetic. I'm waiting for a response from Dr. Phil on that.

" With your Big Sexy Ass!"
Awww, come on now! You aren't referring to my actual ass, and that just makes this STUPID! Retard.Now, if you were talking about my cakes, I'd probably LOVE you. But NOOOOO. You're going back to the big girl stigma again. Forget about it honey. I am a PRUDE, and proud of it. Ain't no big jiggly freak over here. I've been celibate for almost 15 months. I am liable to give you blue balls. And not because I tease you, all sexy-like. But, in fact, because acting like that, I'm gonna have to kick you in them. Ugh. I think I really just have a problem with chubby chasers. I understand, you like what you like (shout out to Bandace after our superb discussion about "just liking what you like"). but if those aesthetic factors are your only qualifications, then there is a serious problem. Do you have any IDEA how many b-words I have made mad by walking down the street with some of the FINEST dudes I've ever seen? It's not because I'm nasty, or they're feeling sorry for me, or kuz im a "BIG FREAK." It's because, well, quite honestly, they like ME. Crazy, spastic, sometimes eloquent and opinionated ME. All you other dudes with your stupid mess kan KICK ROCKS! and please, kick them far away from me towards someone with a lack of self esteem. I just can't cushion your ego, no matter how large i ever have been, or will be. (Ooooh! I used to wear a SIZE 24 in middle school and 9th grade! And I kicked that to the kurb before I moved to the Dino in 03....but Miss Jo just purchased some size 18's! Eff what you heard!!! WOOOOO!)

" I can just imagine, baby, skin slapping all over the place, pullin that pretty hair....(sigh)..."
Yes. This was said to me. By a random dude on the trolley, to boot!
And you know what?! THAT! That right there? That's what makes it easy to be celibate, because frankly, I am embarassed for anyone whose skin actually slaps really loud during sex. I just feel that is so unnecessary. And kinda creepy. and just plain disturbing, that you get these mental images in your head, and on top of that, feel the need to SHARE them with me. I know ya'll have seen those rdiculous text and myspace forwards of the ladies with a million rolls flapping all over the place, and um even on my WORST day, even in my SIZE 24 days, that would NOT have been me. OMG. RETARDS! I heard they're collecting your kind....be strong, and bring your crayons honey.
Oh....and pulling my hair? um, HELL NO. You gotta be out of your LAST cotton picking, brain cell missing, stupefied mind if you think that is gonna work. That mess hurts!! WTH!?!?! The only people who are allowed to be any kind of rough with my hair are the ones I PAY to get it lookin rite....you better quit.
Disclaimer: some people like that....I am just really not a fan. Do you. Maybe if i was really in love....but i just dont know....

"I can just imagine what you can do with those lips, girl!"
I'm glad. Imagination.....key element for most bedridden hospital patients. Kuz the only thing I'm finna do after you say some dumb krap like that? Part my lips to kuss you OUT! If I even feel that's necessary. Because in my imagination? I'm KICKING your BUTT. I'd do it in real life, but after being pulled over Friday night, and being relieved that I don't have current warrants, I kinda like the free, non-potential to be arrested kind of life. So, I'ma just keep all that in my imagination, and pray these think before i speak exercises pay off. May the Lord bless you with enough sense not to even go here though....

Ok.
Ima stop now. it's just that I received another STUPID message along these lines, although, not as creative, I admit. The random dudes hold the award for most insulting, degrading, and retarded lines ever. But i figure, I'll share these with you, and give you a late night laugh. And i HOPE he sees that I posted this, and comes to read it. I almost sent it to his inbox, but alas, I'm not sure he can read big words.

Love you all!
Nighty Nite!
<3