Can you say Punk Rock Concert?

Lord, the things we do for our children.

Yesterday. In intermittent rain showers, I found myself sitting..or should I say STANDING for 4 damn hours at a Punk Rock concert. With the boy.

My mother (on my advice) got the boy tickets to the "Green Day" concert that was coming to our local music venue. If you have never heard of them, they won several awards at the VMA's this past weekend. Did I mention that they were Punk Rock? LOL!
Actually, I was quite amused at the concert. I even found the singer quite sexy!
I caught a drift of the smell of refer (is that a DC term? if it is..then I am talking about weed)
every now and then.

Sexy Man tells me that I should be ashamed, taking the boy to such an event, but there were more kids there than adults. It really was a good show.

The boy..well, he was amazed. This was his first concert, and he had a great time. He musta kissed me like 20 times. Between songs.

The concert was outdoors. There are no seats. My feet hurt. My neck hurts. My body aches.
I couldn't wait to get home and get in bed. I think I fell asleep walking thru the front door.
I almost made a massage appointment for my lunch hour. I need it.

Never again...well, maybe for the boy.

The House of Death

The House of Death strikes again, this time claiming the life of "Stuart" aka "Polo" the hamster.
I am unsure how old he was, but we only had him for about a year. I wanted to name him Stuart, after Stuart Little. The boy wanted to name him Polo--as in Ralph Lauren. He already had a hampster named Polo--We shudda named him Houdinii. He escaped several times, and almost met fate early on..but we found him each time, and finally secured his cage, so that he could not get out anymore. He walked on his squeaky wheel every night for hours.
He drove me insane.

The boy cried like a baby. He was so upset. He cried like 5 different times.
But said nothing. He is just like his mama, I swear.

So, I told him, that I didn't think we were getting any more hamsters, exotic birds, or anything for that matter. The only other living thing we have is "Courage" the cowardly African Dwarf Frog...He is cute enough..but I'm sure he won't be around much longer either. Animals just do not survive under my care. My girlfriends now call my apartment, The House of Death.

The other animals that have met their untimely demise?

Judas--the cocka(something) bird. Cockatoo? Cockatiel? Whatever kind of bird he was, he was mean and nasty --hence the name, Judas--I think they typically live to be 60 something. I think Judas was probably 2 or 3 years old. Tragic! The boy cried for like 2 weeks when Judas died. I told him..Your crying over a bird that used to bite the shit out of you..but he didn't care.
Actually, I think Judas might have died from a cocaine overdose. It's a long story, and although I never told anyone that..I'm glad there was no autopsy. Your girl would be in the 'clink' doing hard time for..I dunno what charge..but something drug and death related.

Courage--This was the 'first' Courage. We had him for about 2 years. He got sick..What do you do? He cost like 3 bucks. The boy cried over him , too. But I just went to the pet store and got another one. The boy is so original. He named the new one Courage as well. Whatever. Courage received a proper toilet flush burial.

Courage II is hanging on for now..

Howl At the Moon

Ummm. yeah.

I know..I know..I KNOW that I am gonna hear some shit behind this.

I know who is calling, but I answer anyway.
He is at work today, and wants to come by.
Without even thinking, I said "no"
I know what will happen to me.
I know what will go down.
I know how I will feel.
My body won't be the only thing twisted up. My mind will be, too.
We talked a while. I miss him. I miss a lot of things about him
He is bad for me. I know this. He knows this.
He lets me explain my feelings. He understands.
He does not want to hear what I am saying, but he listens anyway.
Before I know it, I am telling him to come over.
I can't stand it anymore. I need him in my presence.
I need him in my bed. I need to feel like only he can make me feel.

It's The Big Bad Wolf

Need I say more?
I'm sorry.
I let myself feed straight into the temptation that I know so well.

He is still sexy. He still smells wonderful.
He still kisses me everywhere. And licks my toes.
He still makes me crazy.
He still knows what to say. He still sings to me.
And Wolf can still make a sista howl at the moon.

Damn them fucking camp counselors--when are they gonna learn?

So..I take the boys (THE BOY and his L'il FRIEND)
to the gas station the other night to get some snacks.

I say..SO..How is camp going.

And the boy says...

Mom. I hate this camp. One of the counselors pulled me across the basketball court by.my.hair.

I take a deep breath. Ok..so let me get this straight. One of the counselors decided that it was okay to pull you by your hair?

Ummm. yeah.

Aw.hell.no.

So I get up yesterday morning, and do what any mother should do when some punk ass motherfucking camp counselor pulls their childs hair.
I wait till camp starts, and I go up there and I tell the boy to point out the counselor so I can fuck him up.

The boy points the "boy" out. LMAO. Did I mention this was basketball camp? The "boy" was about 17 years old and about 7 foot 12. That's aight. I will still fuck you up.

I get the camp director..who BTW was sexy as hell! And the 4 of us go to the corner of the gym.

I then say: At WHAT point did you THINK it was OKAY to pull the BOY by his HAIR?

And the counselor said and I swear, I couldn't make this shit up if I tried..he SAID:
Well, HE didn't SAY that it HURT!

I just looked at him like...WWwwhut? What the fuck did you just say?

He must have realized how stupid what he just said sounded. He then said:

I apologize.

I told him, that he needed to tell that to the boy.

And he apologized to the boy. He was very respectful, actually. suprisingly. for his sake.

I think he was really sorry. I don't know if he really didn't mean to hurt the boy's tender head..or if he realized that he embarrassed the boy, or he was afraid I was gonna bitch slap him.

As I was leaving, I said: Don't make me come up this bitch again..cuz next time it ain't gonna be like this..
he looked at me like I was crazy.

Maybe I am.

The "Pimp" Package has been delivered!

LMAO!! The "PIMP" Package is complete. Thanks for your suggestions... I didn't have access to all the things..but added some dumb shit anyway!

I ended up adding:

A mini Magic 8 ball--with instructions that said.."Do not make any major decisions without consulting first"

A Little Debbie Oatmeal Pie

A Quiznos Coupon--valid only in Maryland

A list of tattoo shops in Florida

A list of bail bondsmen in Miami

A picture of the boy and his l'il friend
in the Scooby Doo Mystery Machine (taken at Kings Dominion)

A list of gay clubs in Miami

one of my hair clips--cuz he always takes them out of my hair and throws them

and Some Mardi Gras Beads..

And he is still in Maryland...I think his flight was cancelled due to Miami weather.

But he should be pimpin' by Sunday. We shall see.

Is 8 hours of pleasure worth 2 days of pain?

I'm not really sure.

So, last night--I had a overnight visitor. MmmmmHmmmm.

He left this morning--I guess we have upgraded to all-nighters.

Needless to say, I am tired. And I am sure he is too.

But why the evil glares first thing in the morning?
Perhaps--this is my imagination--Am I just looking at this from the
wrong perspective? Am I seeing something that is not really there?

Or does this man want to reach out and choke the shit out of me like his
face tells me he does.

It is like this each and everytime he comes to my house. Not when we hang out--let's say,
at a bar, but when it is just me.and.him. It takes him about 2 days to start being himself.
He is not nasty--it's almost like he's just embarrased. And that everyone will see right thru him.
I never think as I snuggle up to him all night what the next day will bring.

A Care Package for Sexy Man!

Okay, so..since sexy man is heading out to Miami this Thursday, I thought it would be cute to make him a care package. I don't want to make it too elaborate, cuz he won't take it with him..

Just a few things to make him laugh, and be safe on his trip.

I have a few things..but I need some help! I want things to be self-explanatory and needed..not for him to look at something and wonder..what the hell did she send this for? LOL

It's not that I am encouraging him to get into trouble, or misbehave--I am just letting him know--have fun--do whatcha gotta do--but come back safe!

Here is what I have so far..

• 4 shorty bottles of likka
• chapstick
• advil and tylenol
• 3 packs of gum
• tums
• tic tacs
• hershey kisses
• post-it's and a pen
• condoms

Anything else?

Don't mess with the boy...PLEASE don't.

I was blog hopping the other day, and I read a post by someone that said:
"I will fight a child"..she went on to say that one of the kids at camp were messin with her daughter, etc. I thought..oh no, this chick is singin' my song!

I have had many occasions where I was ready to fight a child..A nasty, disrespecting, no home trainin' child. Of course, I never actually DID it, but the thought was there..and I am starting to think that I am crazy for wanting to choke the life out of someone's young offspring. I am not talking teenagers. I am talking children under the age of 10.

First, I must wonder..what the hell am I thinking? But when someone hurts the boy, I mean physically hurts him on purpose, for no reason..the anger is unleashed..and it is a fucking vicious sight.

The boy mostly keeps to himself. He hangs with his l'il friend, and minds his own business. He does not start shit. He keeps his hands to himself. He might talk a little shit here and there, but nothing that would give any child the right to put their hands on him. Oh, he has a temper like his mama, but it takes him a minute to get there.

One of my girlfriends described me last week..she said that I was like a Chiuaua. A damn dog.
The cute little chiuaua. Looks cute. Is well behaved. Minds it's own business.
Until you fuck with it. It don't even growl. It just tries to bite your fucking hand off.
No warning whatsoever.

Thats me.

So, we are at this neighborhood party, and I saw some little girl pointing towards the boy. She was telling her older sister this dramatic story, and pointed at the boy several times.

I watch him walk around like he's on a mission.
He's looking for me. He sees me, and as soon as he makes eye-contact, his eyes turned sad.

What the fuck these girls done did to the boy? I think.

He comes over to me and tells me that the little girl that was pointing at him slapped him in the face. There is a huge red handprint on his little brown face.

Ya know, the details of what happened don't even matter. I don't even wanna hear the excuse of why some bad ass kid thought it would be okay to slap the boy in his face.
I am ready to fight.
A child.

I go over there and tell her that she needs to keep her little hands to herself.
She came back with lotsa mouth, some head bobbin and and finger waggin.
I tell her that she is a child--and that she needs to act like one.
She was SCREAMING in my face.
I wanted to knock her the fuck out.

She tells me she is going to get her sister..(as if that was supposed to scare me)
GO GET HER! I say. AND GET YOUR MAMA TOO!
I wudda knocked both of them the fuck out, as well. (LOL!)
I musta been mean-muggin her where she stood cuz she finally
comes over and apologizes for her bad ass, disrespectful, no home training sister.
Fuck an apology. That little girl needs a straight up ass-whippin.
And she almost got one.

Her mother was nowhere to be found. As usual.
I just don't understand how parents can let their bad ass kids roam the neighborhood,
with no adult supervision, then wanna get all pissed off when you tell their bad ass kids about themselves.--or tell them their kids have no home training--cuz, when your child puts their hands on the boy, I'll be quick to tell you about you and your child.

It is a damn shame all the mouth and attitude these kids have towards adults.

I guess it's a good thing that I got some damn sense.
Cuz, I think I would have won that fight.

I did it for my friend

I got up this morning. Dreading the day ahead. I put a pot of coffee on.
My head is pounding. Not just your normal headache. My shit is thumping.
I get in the shower. I just want to get back into bed.
I don't have the energy to go through this.
I think I will be uncomfortable.
Not knowing what to say.
Wondering how I will feel when I get there.
I don't want to do this. Not today.

I go to the closet. And ponder over what to wear.
I decide on a black pair of slacks, and a white top.
Slowly, methodically, I get dressed.
I put some make-up on, not too much.
I dig out a pair of shoes from the back of the closet floor.
I usually only wear these shoes in the winter.
But I don't want to be walking around today in cute sandals.
I want to be as un-noticed as possible.
I hope that I will blend with the crowd.
Did I mention that I don't want to do this today?

I tell the boy that he is going to his friends house.
He is not going with me.
He asks me where I am going.
I tell him.
He asked if he could come along.
I tell him no.
He asks why.
I tell him because.
He says okay.
I hug him, and give him a kiss. "I love you Ty," I tell him.
He starts to walk away.
He comes back and gives me one last hug. "Hurry back, mom." He says.
I get in my car, and drive off.
Did I mention that I don't want to do this today?

Damn it's hot. I light a Newport. And listen to the radio in silence.
I'm late. As always.
I park the car and go inside. Damn, there are a lot of people here.
I feel uncomfortable, as I knew I would.
I don't really know anyone.
I see her son. I hug him.
I look around.
There is her husband. I hug him and ask if he is okay.
He thanks me for coming.
I go in the room.
I see her parents. They remember me from the wedding.
Her dad's eyes fill with tears. So do mine.
Did I mention that I don't want to do this today?

I see her other son. The youngest.
We look at each other from across the room, but say nothing.
I take a deep breath.
I walk over to where she is.
She looks okay. She looks like I remember her.
I stood there for a minute. My mind was blank.
I smiled at her and turned and walked away.
I was ready to go.
I didn't want to do this today, but I did.
And that's what friends do.

Rest In Peace, my friend.

Embrace Jealousy-It can be good for your soul

Jealousy. I'm not talking about being jealous of things. Like big screens and cars..
I'm talking about jealousy in your heart.

Why do so many people deny their feelings of jealousy? I know that I do. I look at it as a sign of insecurity and weakness, when in actuality, there is nothing wrong with being a little jealous. I even find it somewhat endearing.

I have had many jealous men. Unbearably jealous. Ridiculous jealous. On the flip side of that I have been with men that tell me that they aren't the "jealous type". This only holds true if they have nothing to be jealous about at that moment. But once something jealous-worthy happens, it's all over and these dudes act like fucking fools.

I have dated men that tell me that they aren't jealous. At all. Ever. Well, to me, if it's true, I think that tells me something about them. It tells me that they don't give a shit about me.

This is how I have come up with this theory:
I have noticed, is that when you first start dating someone, anything goes. If they wanna go out with friends..go! If they want to go out with another girl..go! If they have friends that are girls..good! They talk about their ex-girlfriends..so what!

But once you start catching feelings..all that shit gotta STOP!
With the quickness.

So, this brings me to the main reason this jealousy shit was even on my mind.
I am jealous that one of my men is going on a trip. I mean, we have no spoken anything. I just know he is Sexy as hell, and that he is gonna get himself into some shit. I was talking to him the other day about his trip, and he started talking about Miami, and how much fun he is gonna have. It took me a minute to realize what I was feeling. Six months ago, I would have genuinely not given a fuck..but while listening to him talk, my little heart was going thru some drama! I was not acting a fool, but my heart was talking to me, and saying that it didn't like what it was hearing.

But that's okay..I will get over it, but I'm glad that I feel some jealousy.
If that makes me weak--so be it. If that makes me insecure--so what.
I am embracing it.
It tells me that I care.
I think it's good for my soul.

Choosing Temptation

And lead us not into temptation...

Why is temptation such a motherfucker?

Why do we want so badly the things that we know are bad for us, or the things that we can't completely have.

Why can't I see past what I want?
Why am I chasing this ghost?
Why can't I open my googly-ass-eyes?

I guess it's all about choices. And I choose to do everything that I do..
good and bad.
Reap the benefits, or suffer the consequences.

If you're wondering, I am having some inner conflicts about some things.
Some of the choices that I make.
And I wonder, what makes me do the things that I do?

I wonder how I get myself into this shit.

We all have choices. And I guess I choose to chase a ghost, and to keep my googly-ass-eyes focused on what I want.

I can't see shit else.

~Sigh~

Mental note to self: MAKE WISER CHOICES

This rant is officially over.

The Power of Friendships

One of my friends died.

And I am not sure how I feel about it. I mean, yeah..I feel bad.
But that's not what I mean. I mean how I really feel about our friendship, or lack thereof.


I blogged about her a few months ago. I called her a shit-starter. I do not take that back..she was a shit-starter. I actually stopped talking to her because of this. She caused me some drama with people that I had been friends with before her. I really feel that she did this on purpose. With hate. Not for me, but for my other girls. I almost fed right into what she was telling me.

I was friends with a guy named Russell. He was a bouncer at a club that I used to frequent.
We talked on the phone regularly..and hung out on occasion. but I saw him every weekend while shaking my booty with random guys on the dance floor. He laughed at me, and all the drama I got myself into at the club with the guys, but he always looked out for me..I guess he couldn't miss me..I was the only white girl..actually the only white person..in the place.

He met her through a mutual friend of theirs. She immediately told him that he was not allowed to be friends with me anymore. But after she met me, she changed her mind. Her and I became friends, and hung out every Friday at the club, while Russell worked. They soon got engaged, and she asked me to be her Maid of Honor..which I was.

She stopped hanging out as much, she really hated the club scene..Her jealousy was obvious. She couldn't stand the girls smiling at Russell, much less talking to him. Whenever someone hugged him, She shot fire in their direction.
And as an added bonus, the little spot that we went to just got way out of control..just way too much random violence for me. So, we all stopped going there, and Russell quit the bouncer gig.

Russell became friends with my man at the time..Andrew. Andrew was a Trinni--and oh..I loved me some him. He, because of his culture, was naturally possessive and jealous. He was also a champion kick boxer. He could fuck people up and was always willing to buck up on anyone at the club that even looked at me. As much as I loved him, I couldn't stay with him when he was always on the verge of cracking some random brutha's jaw just for looking in my direction. I stopped seeing him, and he was not happy about it. He still talked to Russell, so when my girlfriend went to get my stuff from his apartment for me, shit-starter jumped right on it and said they were fucking. She said that Andrew told Russell that he fucked my friend. And she also said that she saw them together. Which was untrue.

I just stopped talking to her. I did not want to get caught up in the drama that she needed to make her life exciting. I had not talked her in about a year.

She called me last November, and told me that she had cancer. She said the doctors gave her a few years at best..

I talked to her a few times over the last 9 months or so. She sent email updates to let everyone know how she was doing and what treatments she was getting.

Russell called me a last night. He said that she probably would not make it thru the week..this was shocking to me..and I immediately started to feel guilt. I thought about how I am as a friend..and I feel bad for ending our friendship the way that I did. I feel like I failed her as a friend, and that she regretted me being the Maid of Honor in her wedding. I thought I failed her just as my son's chosen God-Mother..my best friend for years..had failed him. She never calls him. Ever.
And I think that's shitty. I think I was shitty.

Yesterday, after talking to Russell..I was contemplating going to see her today. Should I? It was a tough call. I hate when people get sick, then folks come out the woodwork and try to be the person that they should have always been. In other words, phoney. Guilty.
but it didn't matter. He called me at 1am and told me that she died.

I plan on attending her funeral. She was my friend, and I want to pay my respects. I just hope I can get over myself for not being the friend that I should of been. That's the biggest tragedy.

A Date with "Dude"

Why can't ex menfriends leave me the fuck alone?

I am sitting at work today, minding my own fucking business, and "Dude" calls.

Him: Hey! I am at a class in your neighborhood THIS WHOLE WEEK, and I was wondering..er..uh..if we could..we..uh..get together for lunch..or er maybe coffee?

Me: Ummm. I dunno..maybe. (Thinking: What the fuck for?) (and further thinking..What the fuck? What DO YOU WANT? Why are you calling?..ARE you fucking kidding me?)

Him: Well, I was really hoping to see you this week..

Me: Right..yeah..ummm. I don't really know what would be good for me this week...
(thinking: NEVER is good, motherfucker. in fact, NEVER would be perfect)

So, he tells me he will call me later..and I just assume he means later this week. Nope. This fool means later as in a few hours later.

Him: Hey..where are you?

Me: ..(thinking..I'm at the motherfucking club!... I am bent over my motherfucking desk!...and then thinking..none of your fucking business..) but I say..."I am at the mall" (which I was)

Him: Oh..how long are you gonna be there?

Me: (thinking..WHY? Why does it MATTER? but I say..) Not long..just getting the boy some shoes...

Him: Silence.

Me: Oh, you forgot about the boy?

Him: No.

And then I remember why I hate this motherfucker. I remember why we are NOT together.

Me: Lemme call you later, m'kay?

before he answers, I slam my phone closed.

As I am walking thru the mall, I start to think about our relationship. If you want to call it that.

I met "dude" in a club. He got that nickname from jump, cuz one of my homegirls couldn't remember his name for shit. So she just called him "dude" Which stuck. He hated his little nickname, but I thought it was hilarious.

He was in the Air Force. Stationed at Andrews Air Force Base. He lived...well, I can't say that I knew where he lived. That was one of our problems. He also had a daughter and an ex-wife. That was one of our other problems.

It seemed that he NEVER wanted us two to cross paths. Which, I am not that concerned about. I never wanted to meet her, anyway. I had nothing to say to her...I was never around her daughter, so, it's not like she had to check me out or anything.

But all of that aside..those reasons where not why we aren't together. And..it has nothing to do with the sex.

He did not like the boy. Oh, He pretended like he did..but he didn't. And because of that..he had to go. I don't know if it was the boy that he didn't like, or the way that I did things regarding the boy. We had many "discussions" that ended up with me not talking to him for days. The boy was not crazy about him either, and he was not afraid to show it. He was not disrespectful, he just made it known in his 7 year old way, that Dude was not running shit at our house..that he had clearly overstepped his boundaries when tryna make it seem as if he had some sort of authority..the boy knew better. We don't roll like that.

I guess one of the reasons I thought about this today, was because I wanted to put into perspective that I did not allow this man to change the way I interact with my son. Whenever the boy would say something that could possibly be misunderstood by dude, or anyone for that matter, dude would always look at me..like.."oh, you need to correct THAT" or he would say..if MY DAUGHTER EVER did that/said that/thought that or whatever the case, she would get that ass beat! Okay, then.

I just don't understand how he thought that he was able to do some of the shit that he did. I never gave him the power..only angry glares, and strong arguments, and a this is not your place attitude.

So, in true diva fashion, I just stopped calling him, and he never called me. He was silly like that...he knew that if I didn't call, I was having an issue. The last time I saw or talked to him was last November.

So, do I want to have "lunch"date or "coffee"date with dude?
No. But do I want to see him, so he can see my being fucked on the regular smirk, and realize that he could have had that if he had just kept his opinions to himself.
Yeah. I'm a bitch like that.

No-Show-No-Excuse-No-Nothin'

Ok. So, I was pretty pissed about baby daddy rollin up here, and droppin a "yard" on the boy. Thanks for the hundred bucks daddy-o.

And I was pretty pissed that he didn't even call the boy on his birthday.

But this mother-fucker had the nerve. the fucking nerve.to.not.come.to.the.boys.party.
Yep. A mother fucking no show. His own damn father.

How do you explain why you didn't bother to show up at your own child's party.
There is no good explanation. In fact, there is NOTHING that you can say to me.

This is the shit that I am talking about. **SMDH**

Ya wanna know what is worse than not coming to your child's party?
Your child not wondering why you aren't there.

Instead of explaining why you didn't show up, explain why your child don't even care that you didn't show up.

Damn them fucking asshole counselors at that fucking camp.

So, I'm driving the boys to camp today, and The Boy tells me that they want to come to work with me today. "PLeeeASEeee..We'll be good! We won't bother you..."

What the hell? WHY?

The boy starts explaining that the camp counselors are not nice to them..they generally are just shitty to them, they call him by the wrong name, and when he corrects them, they say 'whatever' and that one of the camp counselors told him to "Shut up!"

Huh? What the fuck?

The boy told her that he was gonna tell the camp director, and the counselor said
"Go ahead, I don't care"

Oh, really TRIXIE!?

So, I tell the boy.."She might not care if you tell the director, BUT SHE'S GONNA CARE THAT YOU TOLD ME"

The boy and his l'il friend look at each other like "UT OH!"

I have said before, these kids KNOW I DON'T PLAY.
Don't fuck with my child.
And think it's fucking cute.

So, we are walking up to the camp..and I ask the boy if the counselor that told him to shut up is there in the morning, at aftercare? or does she come when camp starts?

He said he wasn't sure.

I tell him and his l'il friend.."Ya'all better pray to god that this bitch ain't here when I walk in the door.."

The boy says: I'm not praying for her..I hope she IS there.

As her luck would be, she was not there.

But I talked to the director (LOL..one of the morning care people saw that I was not playing..and he called her on her cell phone..)

MISTAKE NUMBER 1: She tells me that the this is the last week of camp and the counselors are tired! They have been dealing with kids all summer....

**Hold the fuck up**

Me: While I appreciate your 'excuses' you are talking to the wrong mom. I don't wannna hear that shit. I don't give a fuck how tired they are..they are not gonna talk to my child any kind of way...this shit is unacceptable...

(Yeah, your girl is OFF THE HOOK when I am mad...)

MISTAKE NUMBER 2: She asked me if I wanted to talk to the counselor that "allegedly" told the boy to shut up.

**Hold the fuck up**

Me: There is NO ALLEGEDLY. If he said she told him to shut up, then she did. AND no.I.don't.want.to.talk.her.
She ain't ready for it. She really ain't.

I basically went off on her for 20 minutes. I let her know, in no uncertain terms, that the boy is not to be fucked with. I let her know, that her counselors don't have to like the boy. But they ain't gonna talk to him any kind of way, and they surely ain't gonna tell him to shut up.

She tells me she will talk to the boy and call me back.

She does call me back, and explains that they have had a meeting with all the counselors, and
the boy and his l'il friend should be fine. And I believe her..cuz she felt the wrath that is me, today.

Todays lesson:
Don't fuck with the boy. I will be sure to make your life miserable.

I don't want a PIMP in my life

One of my men had the nerve to tell me that he was a 'pimp'.

Huh? Oh, you a pimp. Oh, okay. Well, since you are rolling that way, I think you are about to be cut the fuck off. mmmmhmmmm. I ain't got no love for a man that wants to call himself a pimp.

So, let me put it into context. I mean, maybe he was as misunderstood as I am...?

Him: I am going to Miami on the 26th.

Me: Oh..you are?

Him: Yep, can you call your girl and see where the hot spots are?

Me: No, don't ask her..her hot spots prolly aint your hot spots..but I know someone that can hook a brutha up with some hot spots..let me shoot my girl Ms. Tee an email and she'll let me know where to go..she's fly like that..she won't hem a brutha up.

Him: Okay, cool..tell her I want to go where the fine women are...

Me: Okay..you know, If you're a dude, you gotta pay to get into them places..that shit aint cheep..and the drinks..

Him: Oh, hell naw..I'll pay to get in, but I ain't payin for nothing else..

Me looking at him like he's fucking crazy.

Him: CUZ..I'M A MUHFUCKIN PIMP!

I don't think I like this..are you tryna tell me that you are playin' me? Nah, of course you don't mean me..

Do you?

Nah..you ain't talkin' about all the stuff I do for you, makes you a pimp, and makes me..what?
A ho?

Is that what you think? Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't aware.

I'll be somebody's ho--all night long--but I don't need no pimp. period.

Have fun in MIAMI, pimp.

He get it from his mama?

Omigod.
Just when I thought I was a good parent, the boy comes out with some shit that makes me wonder.

Last Thursday, the boy had a camp sleep-over that he went to. He took his cell phone with him, and when he brought all his stuff home, I just assumed it was still in his backpack.

Umm. no.

Yesterday, I switch the laundry over, and I hear this thumping in the dryer. WTF? I go investigate. Nothing. I turn it on again, and the same thumping. I investigate again, and find nothing. Fuck it. I think as I close the dryer door and turn it back on. For the next 30 minutes, I listen to this thumping in my dryer. Too stubborn to go check it out again.

Finally, I give up. I open the dryer and start taking the still damp clothes out 1 by 1. Sure nuff. There is the boys cell phone. Damn.

I try it to see if it works. Of course not. That would be way too easy.
The shit is bro-ken.
So, I decide that I will go pick him up a new one..Well, as my luck would have it, I never make it to the store. I got caught up at work, and needed to get home.

I got home, and the boy was at my girlfriend's house. I was about to call there and instead he called me. I tell him that they didn't have the cell phone. I knew he would be a little pissed, but I assured him that I would go get him one tomorrow. This child, the boy, actually started to interrogate me about the damn cell phone.

I finally tell him that he is making me mad. He says, "Okay, then."
And this child. hangs.up.the.phone. --yep, he hung the fuck up on me.

I guess this is the shit that I inadvertently teach the boy. You don't like what someone says to you, hang up the phone. Not a bad concept, but not for a 10 year old to use on his own mother.

I was all over his ass when he got home. I am pretty sure it will never happen again.
But damn. We know where he git it...

1 hour and 100 dollars does not make you a good father

I hear the phone ringing early Saturday morning. I look at the clock. 6:45am. Damn.

It ain't nobody but baby daddy. I know his ass thinks he's about to miss out on the boy's Birthday Party, but it's not until next week.

I listen to the phone ring a few more times, and I decide to drag myself out of bed and answer.

"What's up?" I answer slightly irritated.

"Um..er..umm. I want to see the boy..I have a birthday gift for him.
I want to come to his party"

Just to be the bitch that I am expected to be I say.."What the fuck makes you think I have money for a party?"

Silence.

"Umm. Hello?".."I guess you think that you can just fuck around all year, but you want to prove how good of a father you are by showing up at the boys party?"

Silence.

"I have a gift for him...Can I come over later?"

I am thinking NO, but I say "I gu-ess.. but make sure you call first..don't just be creepin up to my crib unannounced." and I hang up the phone.

I think that baby daddy really thinks he deserves a break. He thinks he deserves some sort of respect from me because he thinks that he is doing the right thing. He thinks that I am supposed to somehow be thankful that he is calling and offering up a birthday gift for the boy.
But I am not impressed. Fuck that. Fuck him. I am tired of letting him decide when he wants to be a father.

Around 7:55 that evening, one of my girlfriends calls. "Yo baby daddy outside." ~LOL~


Around 8:00 he comes in the house with the boy. He purposely didn't call. I am watching TV in my room. He comes in my room and lays across my bed. What the fuck?

"Get the fuck outta my bed.." I tell him. "Don't noboby want your ass all up in the bed." And this motherfucker gets up, walks out of my room and slams the door. Slams it so hard, he rattles my pictures on the wall. What the fuck?

Oh.no.bitch.

I open the door. He turns around and looks at me with all the hate he has in his 6 foot 3 body.
I don't yell..the boy is in his room. I clench my teeth together and narrow my eyes.

"You don't pay for a motherfucking thing here..and until you do..you don't slam doors in my motherfucking house.."

And I am thinking to myself...Why can't I stand the sight of him? Why does he get on my nerves in less than 5 minutes. Why can't I stand to be around him? Why does he come to my house and act a fool? Why does he not understand when he gets put the hell out?

I go back in my room. 10 minutes later, the boy comes in and tells me that his father is asleep in his room. What the fuck? How do you come over to see the boy and fall the fuck asleep in less than a half hour?

I go in the boys room, wake up baby daddy, and tell him that this is not a hotel..
He gets up, hands the boy $100 dollars and tells him to go buy himself something.
What the fuck?

I guess it doesn't matter what he does. It will never be good enough for me.

Happy Birthday to the Boy!

Today is the boy's Birthday. The big 1-0.

It's hard to believe that little boy has been around for 10 years!

I was late for work this morning because he wanted Krispy Kreme doughnuts..my boss frowned his face at me when I walked in 30 minutes late with a box of half-eaten doughnuts.

~LOL~

Waking up the BITCH in me

Why do bitches try to test me all the damn time.

I try to have patience with people. I try to have tolerance for others shortcomings.
I try to keep the peace. I try to accept people and situations for what they are.
I try not to let my ignorant behavior get out of check.

I put up with a lot. I try not to keep score. I try to let people express themselves.
But it seems as of late that some people no longer know their roles. They are out of
character. They are acting a fool.
And every time I let this slide, their egos get bigger and bigger.

They are forgetting who they are dealing with. They forget that I have a bitch
in me like no other. The bitch in me sleeps. But everyone that knows me has seen it.
But maybe they need to feel it to understand the magnitude of what it really is.

Maybe they need to feel the fire of my words to be a believer. Once the bitch is unleashed, it is ovah. ya hear me? o-v-a-h. done. There is no turning back. And I think that's why I try to keep it under control. To save friendships, that sometimes are not worth saving. To spare others the wrath that is me. To have them never feel what it is like to be truly cussed the fuck out.

I have ended friendships for less than what these bitches are talking about. I know that once I go there, it is no coming back. We. are.done. I make sure that it is on point, so that I have no regrets. I know exactly what I am doing. I make no excuses. Make sure you get everything out that you need to say as I am cussing you because I will never have the need to speak to you again. For nothing. I will never in life need you again. For anything.
You will always need me, before I need you. I make sure of that.

While ending friendships is not what I like to do, it is not out of the question. Don't keep fucking with me, and fucking with me, and fucking with me and think nothing will never happen. Something WILL happen, and it will be nasty.

So everyone beware. The bitch in me is sleeping.
You can nudge her every now and again, but please don't wake her.
Unless you are ready to deal with her.
She's evil.

Blockin' Ass Bitches

"Come home with me" I whisper in his ear as I walk up behind him.
He is watching baseball on the TV at the bar.
I have to stand on my tip toes to reach him..

"Ok" he says.

I am excited at the thought of him. I plan it all out in my head.
Get home.
get the boy in bed.
get nekked.
and fuck until the dawn.

It seems that my "friends" have other plans.

We get to my house, and one of "the girls" that was not invited out with us, is waiting for us in the parking lot. She wants to confront us on how unfair we have treated her and her son.

HUH? Whhut? At 11:00 pm. Especially when I have a manfriend in tow?
Aw, hell no. Hell ass no.

I blame this entire confrontation on her. She almost got her fuckin ass beat. Twice.
Once by my sistafriend..See this story about that part of it...and the other by me.
for blocking. Don't block a sista from getting her swirl on!
What the fuck is wrong with bitches?
Everyone of my friends knows how much I adore him,
and how pissed off I would be if he left behind this bullshit.


But, he stayed through all the drama.
The entire night.

I finally broke the little party up. And sent everyone home.
And got my nekkedness on.

I woke up this morning with a headache like no other. I don't know if it was from the likka, the blockers, or my head banging against the headboard all night. (lmao!)


I am not a fighter. But I swear, I will beat a bitch down for being a blockin'ass hater.

That's what I get

So, I get out of work early on the Friday before Independence Day.
I am on my way home @3 ish.
I need some 'ports for the weekend.
(LOL..I need to quit smoking..stoppin for Ports has caused more problems in my life *sigh*)

I pull into the gas station. I go in. There is this dude at the counter, paying for his smokes. He checks me out. Eh, he's ok. Barely.

I get my 'ports and am walking to my car..damn it's hot. Dude is just kind of hanging out by his car. Like he's waiting for someone.
As I start getting closer to my car, he also starts heading towards my car.

Damn. Why men always gotta be crackin' at the gas station. Jesus. I am so over that.
~rolls eyes~--I mean dayum..men want to holla at the gas station while I am pumpin my own fucking gas. Damn mayne..atleast offer to do it..or pay for it, or sumthin.

So..dude wants to talk. He tells me his name. He tells me where he lives--he tells me his age.
He asks for my number. I give him my cell number. He says he'll call.
I say okay.

I am no sooner pulling out the fucking parking lot, and my cell rings.

Me: Hello?

Him: Oh, I was just making sure you gave me the right number.
Whhuut?..It took him the time to say those words out his mouth for me to figure out something about him. psycho.

At this point I was done.

Me: um. ok.
He laughs, and I hang up on his ass.

Over the last month..this man has called me every.damn.day.

EVERY.DAMN.DAY.

I have answered the phone exactly 2 times.
Until yesterday.

I am chillin at the crib. My cell rings. I answer not because I think it's him, but because I didn't know it was him.

Me: Hello?

Him: BRENda. (silence)

Me realizing it was him: Oh, hey..what's up?

Him: I DUNNO-YOU.TELL.ME!
this motherfucker has the nerve to have attitude. He starts to say something about me not ever answering his calls. Sorry son, I don't want to hear you! (laughing, not believing that I just thought "son" when I hate hearing people say it)
And I hang the fucking phone up. Just like that.

This man proceeds to ring my phone atleast 5 times. back.to.back.to.back.

Me: (finally) WHAT?

Him: Why are you doing me like that, I thought we had something?

Me: Huh? What the fuck are you talking about?
Ya ever been so frustrated, that alls you can do is hang up the phone?
Well, that was me.

What the fuck? Can't you just leave.me.alone?
Jeez. That's what I get for passing out my number like m&m's.
*shaking my damn head and laughing at the shit I get myself into*

The Boy

.

Feeling somewhat uninspired today..so I thought I'd post a picture of the boy.

Lying Eyes

3:45 am.

He calls. He wants to come over. He has been drinking. He is upset.
He gets to my place. He talks forever. He keeps repeating himself.
He was in an argument, that almost turned into a fight. With someone
he knows. This someone has been tryna hook up with me, but is
married. This someone knows that he comes over. I have been questioned
about him. Like a fuckin police investigation. I refuse to tell his business.
He tells me he can't to this anymore. He tells me that he can't be in a
relationship. He tells me that this is wrong. That he is wrong.
That my heart is too good. That I am too good.
He tells me goodbye.
This will be the last time he comes over.
I don't believe him.
So I look at him. He can't hide behind his eyes.
His lying eyes. They always tell his truth.