Mannequins, Rope Chains, and Big Daddy Kane

While I was working at Filene's the other day I made an observation. There is a huge difference in the mannequins they place in certain departments. For example, the mannequin in the Rocawear section was throwing up a gang sign! I kid you not. Meanwhile, the mannequins in the women's sweater section had one hand in their pockets looking very regal.

But the worst one of all was the mannequin in the Junior's section. These mannequins are posing like models. But if you really look at whose shopping in this hootchie mamma department, it would be more fitting to have the mannequins droppin' it like it's hot. Have a couple of them dancing together. ('cause you know that girl on girl action sells) Or you could have a pole coming down from the ceiling and have a mannequin sliding down...

Did I just come up with a great marketing tool?!

Anyway, I went into the men's department to bring back an electric shaver and it was like traveling back into time. There was an elderly lady behind one the registers and while she struggled to hear me as I screamed "where does this go!", I noticed she had on a fat rope chain. Now I don't know about you but this struck me as odd. What in the hell did this lady know about dookey chains?! Did someone buy it for her as a practical joke to see if she'd wear it? How cruel was that?

I mean, maybe she was b-girl back in the day and just can't let go of the past...

Speaking of rope chains, I forgot to mention that I gave Kane my phone number that night. And well, we've talked everyday since. I'll be going to another one of his shows Tuesday night and I'll be sure to tell you all about it.

He seems like a decent guy and there's nothing wrong with making new friends. He just happens to be more well known than other people I know but this could get interesting. He says he's gonna give me alot more to write about but we'll see about that - didn't he say "aint no half steppin'"?

Never Fall Asleep in the Club

I was recovering from my busy weekend at my mom's house when I saw a commercial promoting an event at the Ritz. Apparently Big Daddy Kane was performing that night and I had no idea! So, I call my "friend" and tell her how badly I'd like to go. Her response? "I know. I'm going with my ex and his family."

Why didn't she tell me this ahead of time? She knows I'm a big Big Daddy Kane fan. (does that sound funny?) We talk about it for a few minutes but she never quite got around to inviting me. She tells me they're gonna be in VIP and all but never says, "You can come with us, you know."

So I trot down to the Ritz and buy one lone ticket. The guy in charge of the event sold me my ticket and promised to see me later at the show. I mean, I was going alone, I might as well have someone keep me company.

I get there later that night and find that I've left my ticket at home. Luckily, I get in anyway. Some guy who helped me explain that I did indeed purchase a ticket kept me company all night and offered to buy all my drinks. That was cool and very much appreciated. But then the guy who sold me my ticket comes in and tells me I can sit in VIP. No, not the VIP section my friend and her people are sitting in but the best seats in the house. Also very much appreciated but the guy who offered to by my drinks followed me into VIP. I didn't mind.

I have no idea who this guy is but he seems nice but because I'd only gotten 3 hours of sleep the previous night, I was extremely tired. I'd already had one drink when my friend sends over a shot a Hennessey. I take the shot and a few minutes later I'm asleep on a leather couch.

Now here's the kicker. My friend tells me the NEXT MORNING that she came back to VIP because she sent over another shot of Hennessey and the waitress told her I was asleep. When she saw me, the "gentleman" had his coat over me with his hand under the coat. She thought she was interrupting an intimate moment even though she knew I'd just met this guy.
She said maybe my eyes were closed because I was about to "bust a nut". Classy. Out of her own mouth she says, "I didn't know whether this guy had drugged you or what."

She left me there.

Now, I don't know if I overreacted but I ripped into her. How could she leave me after thinking something like that? That never crossed my mind which made me even more furious at myself.
Yes, I was tired. But I have to keep in mind that from now on I cannot depend on people to look out for me - especially her. And she's my best friend.

To top it all off I suddenly realized that this guy was probably touching me in some way while I was sleeping. And she witnessed it and because she felt "awkward", did not bother to wake me up! Concern for my safety should override any awkwardness that you may feel. Did she think I would be mad if she did interrupt just for the sake of making sure I was okay?

Someone told me that if they saw a stranger sleeping in a chair in a club they would make sure they were okay. At this point I'm not even sure if I fell asleep or simply passed out. I honestly don't remember falling asleep - only waking up.

This is very reminiscent of the time she let me drive home drunk without saying a word. Her response to that was, she asked me if I was ok and I said yes. First of all, she never asked me that - and secondly, if I did say I was ok she should've known I was in no condition to provide a clear rational-minded answer.

I explained to my friend - and she didn't seem to understand this, that sometimes she may not have my best interest in mind. She said if she thought someone didn't have her best interest in mind she wouldn't deal with them.

Good point.

Thanksgiving Weekend

Wow, I'm still recovering from my busy Thanksgiving weekend. It was up and down but I learned alot of hard lessons.

Lesson #1 - always bribe the cops when having to stand in line at a nightclub.

Thanksgiving night I went to a club that I hear is always a hot spot to be at on this particular night. My friend has a habit of getting out late and I dreaded the long lines and plus it was with a doubt the coldest night of the year. So, to compromise I decided we'd buy the tickets early and come back at a later time so she can make her fashionably late appearance.

To make sure we'd be able to re-enter I flirted with a cop and told him I'd bring him a hat when I returned. We drive back to the club in separate cars but I have to make a detour to Walgreen's to buy the cops hat. I get lost on the way back so it's about midnight when I make it back to the club. First of all, there are no parking spots left and secondly, they're not letting anyone else in the club.

I was so upset because we'd already paid and I'd waited in the cold just for them to turn me away. I finally see the cop who I'd flirted with earlier and he lets me in. By this time I'm still in bad mood and the night was a total waste even though I got into the club.

Maybe not. I'm planning on going back to see if the cops there again. I'm gonna bring him some hot chocolate.

Lesson #2 - Black Friday is definitely a day to request off from work.

Yeah, I worked at Filene's the day after Thanksgiving and the shoppers were vicious. I was working the men's dept that day and two of my customers almost got into a fight over taking too long in line.

My feet were hurting so bad that night and I had no one to rub them. : ( How sad is that?
I did find an Izod coat on sale for $39.99- with my discount it would be $29.99 but I figured I really didn't need it. Plus, I'd already bought my cousin a Dooney and Burke wallet/purse.

Lesson #3 - Never offer to drive - ever!

At the last possible hour on Saturday night, my friend and I decide to go the Hippodrome which is about an hour and a half away. We agree that she'd drive there and I'd drive home. In other words, I wouldn't be able to drink (yeah I'm still having my occasional drink).

When we arrive we realize that it definitely wasn't worth the drive. We were invited to VIP and a guy whose birthday it was offered me some Moet. I said sure because I didn't think I could get drunk off of that.
We're leaving VIP and the guy is handing me a new bottle of Moet to take with me. My friend is closer to him and she takes the bottle. I say, in a joking manner, "he was handing it to me". She catches an attitude and says "Here! Here! You can drink! Here, you can drink!"

I'm wondering why is so so excited and why is she repeating herself. When we leave she's getting into the driver's seat and I tell her that I'm driving. She says she's not tired and she'll drive home. I asked if she was sure and got into the car. I'm thinking to myself that if I hear her mention anything about me never driving back from clubs I just might snap.

As soon as this thought enters my mind, a mutual friend of ours asks her why she doesn't like to drive to NY but was willing to drive to Mass. One of her reasons was because she always has to drive home because I'm always getting drunk.

I stop her immediately and tell her don't ever expect me to offer to drive. Was I wrong? I don't care - this is the third of fourth time I was supposed to drive and she ended up driving anyway. I should've gotten drunk.

Lesson # 4 - Never fall asleep in the club.

To be continued...

Does leather make you funny?

No, I don't mean does leather make you gay - I mean funny as in "ha ha". If it did would that explain what happened to Eddie Murphy? Never mind. But, I digress. (so early to be digressin' don't ya think?)

I would love to talk about thanksgiving and all but there is a much more important issue plaguing my brain at the moment.

Why do comedians often wear leather during their shows?

Eddie Murphy, Margaret Cho, Eddie Griffin, Chris Rock, Chris Tucker, Andrew Dice Clay, Richard Pryor, Martin Lawrence, just to name a few of the many have all donned leather outfits to their comedic performances. What is it about leather?

Does leather make you funnier? Or is it just the most breathable clothing to wear - I guess it minimizes the horrific sweat stains that are bound to rear their ugly heads...

take a look:

Make it Last Forever..impressions, that is.

This year I've learned that the most common first impression I make on people is that I'm stuck up. I don't like this. Especially since I'm far from it. People usually come to this conclusion before they even speak to me.

But someone recently told me that when I smile, I become approachable. That makes sense though. I can recall numerous occasions where I've smiled at people (mostly men) and suddenly they're showering me with attention. Sometimes I smile just to be polite and then I can't get rid of someone I'm not at all attracted to.

Speaking of attraction, you don't necessarily have to be the most handsome guy for me to be attracted to you. I usually find myself attracted to gentlemans, nice dressers, and intellegent thinkers. If you have all of those qualities your good looks are just a bonus.

I've also found that confidence overrides many flaws. I've never thought of myself as a beauty but I don't think I'm ugly (for lack of a better word) either. But my friend and I had a discussion on how is it that the weakest looking females in the club always gets asked to dance.

I came to the conclusion that we don't get asked to dance because we're standing around not moving and looking unapproachable. The other chicks are having more fun and therefore are more attractive. Regardless of what their physical appearance may scream, their confidence overrides their belly hanging out of a shirt that's two sizes too small and the bullet wounds showing on their thighs.

Since I've loosened up and feel more comfortable getting my groove on per se, I've been approached a lot more. Sometimes before I even get into the door. Maybe I have that look that says, "I'm gonna sweat my perm out tonight"...
So even though I'm leaving the club looking like Big Red, I'm content. I had a good time and I'm most likely drunk out of my mind. And most importantly, I feel good about myself. Actually I feel like a drunken whore but that's ok.

I have my part time job back

Should I be excited? Hell Yeah! I need whatever extra money may come my way. I decided to call Filene's to see if I was still on the schedule for Friday and Saturday. And lo and behold the manager said to me, "tell me when you want to come in and we'll put you on. Would you like to work 9-5, 10-6, or 11-7...we're open 'til midnight."

I said to myself, who do they think they are? Wendy's or somebody? I told him I'd work 10-6. Well the next day I was running late and pretending I was supposed to start at 11. No one said a thing. I guess they really don't hassle seasonal employees too much. Hey, I'm just here to help out.

Anyway, they put me in ladies handbags. You know, Coach and Dooney Burke and Liz Claiborne stuff. Really expensive. I witnessed lots of couples and men buying christmas gifts for their wives. I started to get a little depressed but later on I cheered up because someone brought in lots of delicious food.

I ate collard greens, fried chicken, macaroni, (the dept manager's black), homemade spring rolls, carrot cake, coconut cake, lasagne, and fruit salad! I didn't have to spend a dime on lunch. I was haaaappppy!

I was so happy I forgot to pick up my first check. I'm thinking this will only help me save money so I'm in no hurry to get it anyway.

Yeah, I'm all about that paper right now son. Do I sound hard? Anyway, for a long time I've wanted to start my own business. Lately I've been thinking about that alot because I found out that because I owe a community college some big bucks I can't apply for any school anywhere! So, I came up with the idea to become an event planner. I will start off independantly, organizing my own events and making money that way. Eventually I might start to organize events for others.

The events would be mainly themed parties at various venues. I plan to put this idea into effect the coming new year. And that would be my new year's re-solution. I would like my first event to be an 70's party. Which will be followed by an 80's party and then a 90's party. I'll have to get more creative after that but we'll cross that bridge when we get there. Any ideas or suggestions?

My version of Vibe's 20 Questions

1. Has Akon replaced Nate Dogg as the hip hop crooner?

2. Whatever happened to The Product G&B?

3. Doesn't it seem that some rappers turned producers can't seem to break new artists as much as they'd like to? i.e. Wyclef Jean.

4. After all these years, does anyone know who the gay rapper is? (No - it's not Cayshun (or however he spells his name))

5. Has Eminem officially fallen off?

6. Do you think he resents 50 Cent's success?

7. When will Rakim make another album?

8. Wouldn't you love to see Whitney make a HUGE comeback?

9. Why Did Irv Gotti tell reporters that Jay-Z gave him the name Gotti and that he would now like to be called Lorenzo?

10. Will Remy Martin ever stop wearing that one blond track in the front of her head?

11. Is anyone else anticipating Foxy's Black Roses album as much as I am?

12. By the way, where is the next single?!

13. With the uprising of so many southern artists, where is Cash Money, No Limit, and all those country acts that paved the way?

14. How many future hip hop artists will grow up on G-Unit books?

15. And how soon will it be before we see G-Unit toys?

16. Will someone tell Pharell his throwback chain is wack? (Just because it's different doesn't make it hot)

17. Where's Vita?

18. Who that chick be? Oh, she's the girl who was signed, then later dropped, from Murder Inc.

19. Who would've thought that Ice T, Ice Cube, L.L. Cool J, and Queen Latifah would become such big movie and television actors?

20. When you pick up a Vibe magazine, do you go straight to the back to read the 20 questions?

The Holy Ghost?

Did I mention how I think I got the Holy Ghost on Sunday? And why do I feel the need to capitalize Holy Ghost? But, anyway, here's what happened...

I went to a church that was finishing up their women's week revival. Because this was the last night, they wanted to take up a collection. The offering was set up with two plates. One plate was for the guest speaker and the other for the church.

The mother of the church gets up and announces she would like to raise $3000. I'm not sure why but no one asked and neither did I. The guest speaker said she was gonna watch the plates to make sure those who visited from her church were putting their money in the right plate.

Ok.

They asked all the women to commit to giving $50. I had five singles in my pocket and pulled it out. A lady behind me asked me how much I had in my hand and I told her. She said to me, "don't worry about it. I got you. You keep that for the baby."
So all the women stand up and get in line to give their $50. Me and the kind lady behind me are the only ones still sitting. I felt a little uneasy but hey, it's not like I had the $50 anyway.

When the offering is over, the lady behind me stands up and asks "How much ya'll got?" They tell her a little over $2000. She offered to give the rest to meet their goal of $3000. And the crowd goes wild!


She even announced that her portion was coming from both of us.

Sidebar. I should note that before the offering was collected, the mother of the church said she was putting in $1500 to start off. Now that I look back on the situation I realize that this was a hustle. First of all, she wrote a check. Secondly, she probably wrote the check with disappearing ink. That check does not mean she actually gave $1500 to the church. Someone pointed out that she probably mans the bank account for the church so what difference does it make if you deposit a $1500 of your money into your own account?

I'm sure people felt more comfortable giving $50 if this old woman can give $1500! It's a hustle. Just like with three card monty. There's always a stick person who wins to make people think the game is easy. But no one realizes that the person that just won is part of the scheme.

Then they took up another offering. I gave $2. I didn't feel bad because I was thoroughly entertained by all the kids that kept getting up to shout. It was hilarious.

There was one really big kid who shouted so much I thought he got serious and started to cry. Then I realized it was just sweat. But I took a long glance at him and realized his clothes were way too small for him. His pants were a size too small and someone had ripped the sleeves off his shirt! They didn't even take the time to sew it back up to make it look like it was bought like that.

Am I going to hell? Hell no. Shoot, I got the Holy Ghost. But now I don't feel like talking about it.

I quit my part time job...

Yeah folks, it ended before it ever began. My first day on the floor was supposed to be Sunday and I called out. I don't think I'm going back. My next day on the schedule is the day after Thanksgiving. Have they no pity?!

How do they expect me to work the day after Thanksgiving? I'll still be recovering from the 'itis.

Anyway, it's not my problem anymore. I'm gonna save some money and focus my attention on the bartending school. Yes, I need money now. Yes, I did talk about how urgent it was for me to find another job. But this is not for me. It pays $7.09 an hour people! Oh, now you understand...

Greedy bastards. That's all I will say about Filene's. I have absolutely no regrets either.

I do, however, regret getting the flu shot. Last week, the company I work for sponsored a flu shot "drive" (I guess you can call it that). But everyone kept insisted that I take advantage of this opportunity to get a free flu shot - especially since there's likely to be a shortage.

So, without puttin much thought into it or doing the proper research, I went ahead and got the shot.

While the nurse is prepping my arm for the injection, in the tiniest voice, she says something to the effect of "you will experience flu like symptoms for the next 4-6 weeks". I said, huh? And she never repeated herself.

I regretted it immediately. First of all, it burned. Secondly, it gave me a headache. And last but not least, I began to fear that I'd been injected with the bird flu.

Maybe that explains all the talk about sex, dildos, and stripping. Excuse me while I discreetly tuck my feathers back in.

Ok. But here's the worse part. I had to sit for 10 minutes under surviellance because this was my first time getting a flu shot. So while I'm waiting, one of the nurses open a new package of injections. She notices that one of the syringes are missing. She says to herself, "that's odd". For a moment, she has a worried look on her face but then brushes it off and continues to administer the shots.

I wanted to say something but my head was spinning. What have I done? I rarely succumb to peer pressure but I really committed a splaboo this time. I really should have known better. Please if anyone has anything good to say about the flu shot please reassure me that I haven't single-handedly stepped into armeggedon.

Dime, Dime, Quarter, Dollar

I had an amazing weekend. But it's too graphic for me to reveal all the juicy details. Let's just say you would think I'm a slutbag/whore/under-the-hood rat.

With that said, lets talk about what this post is really about - sex.

Should girlfriends provide details to one another about their sex life? I always thought this to be a major mistake that many women make. Am I correct in saying so?
I think, and there's always the exception to the rule, women should not reveal anything good or bad about their mate. No matter how good the intentions are, the confidant will always throw it back in your face.

For example, Bocha always complained to Biga about her boyfriend Bosley. Bosley broke up with Bocha and Biga says to Bocha that she shouldn't be so upset because she always complained about him in the first place.

Another example would be how Bocha always told Biga about how big Bosley's spurt reynolds was. Eventually Biga wanted to test the waters and begged Bosley to prove if he was as big as Bocha says he is. Yeah. They had sex. And yeah. That is why Bosley and Bocha broke up.

See what I mean?

But, it's all about me. This year was the longest I've gone without having sex. I mean, I went months and months being alone and it was hard. Especially since everyone I knew had a boyfriend/girlfriend. Now that I've re-experienced the beauty of the orgasm I can't give it up.

Sperm is like a valium to me. And I think I'm addicted because now I have to have it all the time. And if I actually had the time I'd probably do it all day. I hope this is just a phase because if I don't get help soon I'll probably try to shoot it up my arm.

Did I mention my part time job?

Yeah, I got one those. One night I filled out an application for a seasonal position at money machine Filene's and got hired on the spot. So hopefully I'll be able to save extra money before the end of the year.

I say the end of the year just to give myself a deadline to get my sh!t together, you know? I work best under pressure. And pressure busts pipes, right? At least that's what I hear.

Let's change gears.

It's a good thing I don't have little girls. They'd be miserable. People come down on me when I tell them I wouldn't let my 8th or 9th grader go to school dressed in tight booty huggin' jeans. No way. So the young boys and older men can look at her and wonder what she looks like naked.

Ok. She could be covered from head to toe and guys would still wonder but you have to set boundaries.

I can't stand to see young ladies with tight jeans where you can see the outline of their panties - or the g-sring they shouldn't be wearing in the first place.

There was a time when it was taboo for black women to do certain things. Some things, and this is very politically incorrect but true, were deemed to be "a white thing". Two examples would be girls kissing girls and wearing thongs for no apparent reason.

My, my, my, how things have changed. Not that I'm against change and evolving but lets evolve into something more profound. I don't want to be considered enlightened just because I like kissing girls.

See this is also the reason why I don't agree with those feminist types that fight for a woman's right to be treated like a man. They say a woman sleeps around and is considered a whore, a man will sleep around and still be considered a man. What are we fighting for exactly? The right to act like sluts? Oh.

If you want to sleep around you certainly have a right to do it. No one is stopping you. But you have to deal with the consequences of your actions and know how to handle a little criticsm. I mean look at prostitution. Thank god it's illegal is most places because I wouldn't want the government taxing my pussy. Can you imagine filing that on your tax return every year? And what if you had a really bad year? That's embarrasing.

Extreme Makeover - Whore Edition (don't ask)

While I'm still reeling from my sudden spurt of cockiness yesterday, (oooh that sounds sexy), please excuse me while I nibble on some humble pie.

Mmmm. Delicious.

Ok. I'm back. Ready to serve all those willing to read my unpretentious blog of note. In case you failed to notice, I want to sound smart today. Is it working...is it really happening for me? I'm going for a makeover. No. I don't wear makeup so this makeover will be one that involves the mind and spirit. Some of it will involve style of dress but that will be the least of my concerns for now. I want to be one of those people that read the dictionary often and travel to the library on occasion just to be in the midst of thinkers.

Knowing me I'll most likely end up in the presence of some pedophile in the YA section scoping out the Sweet Valley High series. Mumbling things of cornballarity such as, "Hmmm, I'd like to thumb through your card catalog".

But I digress.

I keep thinking that my vocabulary is very limited. And to make matters worse, I often say this out loud. Sometimes you can create ideas in your head and then they really start to come to fruition. So, if within conversation I struggle to find an appropriate word to use at that moment, I'll say - or think to myself, "my vocabulary is terrible". And you know what happens? It becomes true. The person in front of me believes it, I believe it - it must be so!

No. I have an excellent vobulary (very very poor speller/big typo maker though) (I have a habit of noticing errors, writing about them, but not correcting them) (I also have a habit of using parenthesis-es (see what I mean about that spelling?) in the middle of sentences). I need to stop being so hard on myself! AAAAAHHHH!

Hand me another slice of humble pie, please. I'm about to go on a rant and I don't want to sound too big headed.

I want a penis. No, not a man with a penis. I just want a penis. Not for the obvious reason - to be able to go fuck myself like people have been telling me to do for years - but to be able to pee standing up.

I'm sick and tired of squatting down over toilets! That is so unsanitary. I never ever ever sit on public toilets. I recall when I was younger strategically placing toilet paper over the seats then sitting down if I needed to get extra comfortable. I also remember getting smarter and doubling the pieces of toilet paper- then getting even smarter and using store flyers (more durable) - the getting even more smarter-er and not sitting on the seat at all. Instead, backing up over the toilet and god forbid the porcelain touches the back of my legs! So cold and nasty, ugh..

I used to love the cool feeling of the water hitting my bottom after I flushed the toilet. I'd almost orgasm at times but that's another story. I'm sure you'd love to hear it too. But then I read about how germs and bacteria shoot up out the toilet when you flush. Scientists say that when viewed with fluorescent lighting it shoots up like a mushroom cloud - a la atomic bomb over Hiroshima.

Nowadays, I close the lid before I flush. I suggest you all do the same. And that's what being smart is all about. Sharing what you know. Makeover complete. Have a great day folks.

Beware of Blog

Yeah, I'm a force to be reckoned with.

Whatever that means. If you can decipher that please inform me...and don't be rude about it.

So, I'm surfing through blogs and I realize that everyone has something unique to say. Either they talk about a specific topic or they're like me, I like to stick to the Seinfeld model of things - a blog about nothing.

And I say that to say this. I like my blog. Not to be cocky or anything but I like randomness and spontanaity (is that spellt right? yeah I said "spellt")

For example: lets talk about how songwriters will sometimes write the silliest lyrics just because they rhyme. Like that Jagged Edge song, Walk Right Outta Heaven... Yeah, you know the lyric that goes:
Feels like I just walked right out of heaven
I feel like I done damn near thrown my life away (yea yea yeah)
Like a child that's lost at seven
I don't know what to do
Feels like I just walked right out of heaven

"Like a child that's lost at seven"??? Is this significantly worse than a child that's lost at six? Maybe they meant seven o' clock? Because a child that's lost at seven o' clock is worse than a child lost at six o' clock. See how the mind is a terrible thing to waste?

So, the moral of the story is you never know who you steppin' to. You might get shot, stabbed, killed, or hurt. It's not even worth it. Hey! Ya know, ya know ya know ya know HIT IT!

For those of you in the dark, please don't think I'm crazy. Just a fan of Arrested Development. Whoa. Maybe I am a little crazy if I'll admit that in public.

I am in a great mood today!

And I should be. It's only 8:30 am and I just settled a $13,000 account!
I'm about to go to the cafe and purchase a cheese danish and proceed with my wonderful day. Tonight I start a part time job at money machine Filene's and I intend to scope out the paremeters for clothes that might interest me. I need to find an outfit to wear to the Lyfe performance in December and something to wear to the club extravanganza on Thanksgiving day.

Boy, do I have my work cut out for me. Wait, who am I kidding? What I really want to do is scream at the top of my lungs because I had to get up extra early and that $13,000 account was a pain in the butt. I spent an entire hour trying to get that cash in our system and when I finally did it I had to sort it out and organize all the paperwork.

Sometimes I think about what it would be like to move to a place where no one knows me. If I was single AND childless I'd probably go for it. You know, live off the fat of the land wander from place to place - it would be much better if I had family living in interesting places like Venice Beach, Phoenix, or Compton. Then it wouldn't be such a stretch to just move someplace new. But no. My family lives in Saluda, SC waaaayyy back in the woods in homemade houses that have wells and potbelly stoves. Houses that have the furnace right in the middle of the bedroom instead of in the basement.

Ahhh. The life of luxury. How we take for granted what we have. I have a nice cozy apartment that I should be thankful for. And I am. But it's always nice to dream, right?

Anyway. My southern relatives are visiting for thanksgiving and I cannot wait to see all of them. I just know that by the time they leave everyone up here in the north will have southern accents. Shoot, I reckon ya'll got a long ways drivin' but make sho' ya'll brang me some of that there pig feet and hog mogs....

I went to the casino again this weekend. This time I went to Mohegan Sun. I'll have to tell you more about that later because I'm dying to get my hands on that cheese danish.

Has This Ever Happened To You?

I was driving in my car on the highway and I realized that oftentimes I'll be directly behind someone but after a few miles the car just disappears. What happened to that red Dodge that was in front of me?!

For example, I'll notice the car because they may have cut in front of me or I get behind them and they're going too slow... but somewhere along the drive I'll just blackout and when I assess my surroundings again, there's no red Dodge - there's a black SUV in front of me all of sudden. Does this just happen to me?

Speaking of which, when did so many SUV's get on the road? Does anyone remember when this transition occured? I remember SUV'S used to look so...

1984

See what I mean? Then they started to add a little color and shine and style, and size, and body...

1994

Now look at us...greedy Americans.

2004

Are the highways and roads even sturdy enough to withstand the tremendous weight that all these SUVs are carrying? I'd imagine that years ago, when highways and bridges were being built, they didn't take into consideration the many SUVs that would be on the road.

Masquerade Ball

I didn't comment on my weekend. I know I had many things planned but I only went to the masquerade ball and that was because the tickets were $65 and I wasn't going to waste my money.

As usual we got there on mid-Atlantic time because my friend wanted to be
"fashionably late". I didn't think it made sense to spend $65 for a couple hours of warming up - because that's how long it takes me to get into the swing of things. Anyway, we're pulling out of her driveway and I realize I left the directions to the place at my job.

Oh boy.

So, we make the decision to go to my job and get the directions then we're off! It was wack. We could tell by the amount of cars in the parking lot that the place must have been empty. There were maybe 7 people on the dancefloor - all girls. The food was cold but still delicious. The open bar only had wine, beer, or soda.

But, this old school cat tried to talk to me so I let him dance with me all evening. I was dressed like a bride but in all black so he kept calling me Matilda from the Addams Family. He meant Morticia but I never corrected him. We danced to all the old schools songs. When Al Green's Let's Stay Together came on we were getting it boy!
Go 'head, go 'head!

At least I didn't get drunk.

Anyway, lets talk about something else. This is depressing me.

Dildos

Isn't dildo an ugly word for such a device? Actually, I've never owned one. Never even used one. Another first for me will be to have my very own dildo - not that I'd borrow someone else's... I'm from the old school where everyday household products and produce moonlighted as sex toys.

Come on, don't act like you never saran-wrapped a cucumber. Or sat on a jar of spaghetti sauce. Or used garlic breadsticks. Or pushed a tomato up your vagina. (this is making me horny and hungry) Can of aerosol? No?

Come on. Admit it.

Alright. I see some people are in denial so lets back track for a minute and talk about dildos.

Like I said, I've never owned one but I know people that do. I knew a girl whose dildo was so freakin' huge it took a 9 volt battery. I mean, this thing was abnormally huge. I'm surprised it didn't take a car battery. She'd probably get aroused whenever the battery light came on in her car.

Personally, I need the real thing. I need visual stimulation and my imagination can only take me so far. Well, there was that one time I dreamed of my ideal dildo. It had a hand attached to it. The hand can swing around to please you wherever you'd like while being penetrated. Aha! Find me a dildo like that and I'll gladly oblige.