Dudes like sales too…

Upon further review, I think the men’s sales are actually better than the women's! You guys catch all the breaks. But we get to wear make up and pretty dresses, so I guess that makes us even. Guys, here are some links for you...

JoS. A. Bank - Cyber Monday Event + free shipping

Kenneth Cole - Cyber Sample Sale up to 50% off special selection

Bluefly - Extra 10% off + free shipping (now up to 65% off)

Overstock.com - Cyber Monday an Overstock Shopping Experience

Men’s Warehouse - Buy 1, get 1 FREE

Eddie Bauer - Take 25% off entire purchase + free shipping

Foot Locker - $10 off $50 purchase, $25 off $100 purchase

Black Friday: Take Two


If you have any money left over after Black Friday, retailers are back to claim what’s left of your paycheck. That’s right, they have found yet another way to suck in the huddled masses…give it up for CYBER MONDAY! Apparently they coined the phrase Cyber Monday (the Monday immediately following black Friday) approx. 4 or 5 years ago. I guess I have had my head up my @$$ because I was totally unaware of this phenomenon. Better late than never I suppose. Critics have scoffed at Cyber Monday,claiming they’ve seen no unusually high traffic on sites on any one day of the holiday shopping season. However, I think it’s marketing genius!  Any time shoppers perceive any additional savings, they will purchase.  If you discount it, they will come!  All the people who were too full from Thanksgiving (me), too lazy to fight the crowds (me), and just plain over the hype (me again), can now reenact black Friday with the click of a mouse.

I vowed to do my part to stimulate the economy…so here are some Cyber Monday sales for you good folks:

Barney’s New York - Up to 40% off sale

Nordstrom - up to 50% off Half Yearly Sale for Women + free shipping on orders of $100 or more

Net-a-Porter - End of Season Sale 30-50% off

Shop Bop - Spend $300 take $50 off + free shipping

Tory Burch - 30% off orders of $300 or more + limited edition cheetah tote w/ purchase

Kate Spade - 20% off all sale items + free shipping


Ann Taylor - 40% off your ENTIRE purchase + free shipping on orders of $100 or more

Banana Republic, Piperlime, Gap, Old Navy - 20% off + free shipping

The Limited - 40% off everything + free shipping

Happy shopping!


Dating Pool: Feel Like a Swim?


The white ladies at work sometimes stop and stare in amazement. The bold ones will walk over and ask. Why aren’t you married? After a moment I compose myself. But not before they fire off a few more. When are you getting married? How long have you been dating him? Oh, I bet you will get a ring for Christmas. You think so? *deep sigh*. That’s when I have to break it down for the white women. Three reasons why I do so…one because I know they don’t get it…two because they need to know that it’s hard out here for a pimp (pimp = sistah in this scenario)…and three, nothing sends a white person running like a good conversation about cultural differences. I keed, I keed.

But I have told almost every white woman who has asked, the haps on why they probably know at least 5 drop dead gorgeous, educated, sweet, funny, SINGLE black females. I start with the stats. White people like a good # to take back to the other white folks who may be wondering the same. Okay, you have a pool of black men. *drools*…wait…let’s get back on track...let me clarify this is a dating pool, not swimming pool. But, before you get to your dating pool, you have to look at black men as a whole. There are two categories black men can fall into…eligible bachelors and girl please, not even if he was the last brother on earth. Well, honestly sometimes these categories get meshed and you end up thinking a girl please man is an eligible bachelor. But we do not have enough time or space to go into that right now. I like to jump straight into it for the white girls…so I usually open with this…”so, you have a large portion of black men who are in jail”. Don’t be mad black people...you know it’s true. I just keep it real with the white girls. Now, unless you were involved before they were incarcerated and you are going to wait this thing out, my guess is these dudes typically fall in the latter of the two groups. However, there is generally no need for explanation after the white women hear “jail”. Most of the time, they nod sympathetically. Next I say, “Then you have the openly gay men”. I say openly gay cause there is another group of “gay man”…that’s when I tell them about the DL – aka dudes we think are suspect. Some of them are already well versed on “the DL” thanks to Oprah. But some are hearing this for the first time. When mulling over the probability of a man being on the DL, ladies have to be fair. I know some sisters who think every man she meets is gay. Ladies…just because a man likes a nice manicure every once in a while does not mean he is gay. Or does it? *side eyes dude next to me*. But we all have that one friend who thinks every man is gay. Mine is Faith. Faith has outed more men than E. Lynn Harris. Faith every man ain’t gay! Then you have those women who have no gaydar whatsoever. These ladies proudly date suspect men, with no clue as to the fact that he is more interested in her handbag collection, than in her pocketbook. Sister your man is reading O magazine and watching Lifetime…while the game is on. He’s gay. Let your brother have him.

So, once you remove the black men who are in jail, in love with men, and in the closet out of your dating pool…things are beginning to thin out significantly. Then you have to go ahead and weed out those who spend most of their time weeded out. *sprays Oust and rolls eyes*. I don’t put it out there so bluntly with the white women. I tell them something like, “then you have the group of men who aren’t really doing anything with themselves, who aren’t really on your level”. They usually like that one…because they can relate. Our ghetto = their trailer park. White people think they can take any ghetto scenario and aptly apply it to the trailer park community. True or not, they usually need no explanation for this group of men. Regardless of race, all women have a group they would not consider dating. Now some ladies lists can get a bit silly and oddly specific, but for the most part we want a fella who has a job, a car, half a brain, an actual personality, the ability to have an intellectual conversation, knows proper etiquette just in case he ever needs to use it, etc. Plainly, there is a group of men sistah’s would prefer not to date. Y’all know that group and y’all know why.

I explain to the white women, once you remove these groups you have a very small pool of men to pick from. But this is not the problem. The problem is on the flip side. Black men have a VERY large group of black women to choose from. And honey, these women are bad (I explain that this is one of those instances where bad means good). Since there is an influx of eligible black women to choose from, black men typically don’t have to choose at all. Let’s say you happened upon an awesome shoe sale. Why pick one pair, when you can have three? If all three pair feel good and look good…most would chose to take all three home…and wear them at different times. This is typically what black men do. I know you brothers are mad because I am making generalizations…but I am talking rules…not exceptions. And sisters don't even trip.  Cause you all know 1st hand what I mean.  Now, I know there are some damn good brothers out there…but a lot of you are already married. Oh, heck that’s another category. I never thought to share that one with the white women…married men who date. *room goes quiet*. Yeah, y’all know there are some out there. But since I never considered them, I don’t want to start improvising here. In conclusion, you have about 7 eligible sistahs for every 3 eligible bruthas. So, they can take all the time they want in manning up and picking their wives. So no, I am not getting that ring for Christmas…but thanks for asking Becky!

FYI: Sense of humor required. This is a satirical look at dating choices for today's African American woman, however I am aware that these scenarios may apply to any woman regardless of race.


Just When You Thought It Was Safe to Come Outside

I'd taken a brief haitus from the blog scene. In all honesty, I've been engrossed in Twitter. But after a conversation I had in the wee hours of the morning, I've been inspired to write again! New post coming as soon as I can get to my laptop!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone


Song: Read No Rhythm


Verse 1
Chris Brown and Rihanna have had the displeasure of having a very private situation play out in a very public forum. Most of us have the luxury of going through our embarrassing, regretful, shame-inducing situations behind closed doors. If we were honest with ourselves, we would admit there’s at least one thing about us, that happened to us, or that we’ve done…that we’d never want anyone else to know. Now picture the world knowing that one thing. What if every detail was dissected, discussed, and displayed as headline news? How would you feel? Now picture yourself being only 19 years old. How would you feel then? Probably mortified. See, privacy affords us the opportunity to make mistakes and bad decisions without the world standing in judgment. No matter who started it, who finished it, who was the victim and who the assailant, this was a tragic moment in the lives of BOTH Rihanna and Chris Brown.

I will never condone domestic violence. Ever. Critics say the women who defend Chris Brown have probably been beaten many times themselves. I disagree. I think the women who have defended him have never had a man put his hands around their necks, never watched their mothers scream out in fear and pain. These women need to think about their mothers, sisters, best friends, and finally - their daughters...showing up at their doorsteps looking the way Rihanna looked that night. There would be no excuse, no reason, no explanation good enough to justify that face, those tears, those scars....inside and out that may never heal. As someone who has admittedly struck a lover, I will say that no one - regardless of gender, should put their hands on someone they are in a relationship with. I can’t erase the look of shock and disappointment that followed the blow I delivered. Even though I have 101 viable reasons why I reacted that way, not one of them makes it right. Not one. Takes a lot to admit you were wrong…without adding a but at the end of it.

I do not believe Chris when he says he blacked out and doesn't remember doing this to her. I do not believe Rihanna when she says she did not hit him first or at all. But, amidst the public's accusations of lies, one thing remains true...there are only two people in this world who really know what happened in the car that night. We were not there. We do not know who threw the first punch, although we think we know who threw the last. We do not know the details that led to that night, details with roots extending much deeper than a single text. We do not know the depth of the love, that quickly turned to rage. None of us experienced the joy of their good times, to truly know the despair of their bad. For two years we knew no more than what one could piece together through photos and public appearances. Yet and still…we judge them, as if we have the right. Myself included.

Before that night, I (like many) was a Rihanna and Chris Brown fan. Today, I am a bigger fan of hers, but this rang true before that night. Rihanna’s outward scars have healed and hopefully the inward scars will fade with time. She was at the pinnacle of her career when this happened and I am confident things will only get better. My hope for her at the end of the day when it all goes away, is that she is truly happy without Chris in her life. Truly happy, without your best friend and best lover, is no small feat. I am not a fan in the same manner as I used to be in regards to Chris. Today, I am someone who doesn't want to see Chris sing a beautiful song, perform a flawless routine, go triple platinum, or flash that million dollar smile. I am a someone who wants to see a young man who made the mistake of a lifetime, rebound to the best of his ability. I want to see him somehow right this wrong. Erase the scarlet letter that now sits on his chest. I want to see him bounce. Rihanna said it best, Chris should not make excuses for himself, but accept what he did. I throw virtual jabs at Chris who has become an easy target lately and I semi-Stan over Rhi...but at the end of the day these larger than life personalities are real people. Our entertainment, dinner table dish, water cooler convo, fireside chats, tweets, status updates, and blog posts are these people‘s real lives. They hurt, they embarrass, they love, they miss, they cry. And I believe BOTH Chris and Rihanna have done all of the above because of that night. And yes, I feel sorry for both of them. It may not be a popular opinion. But it is my humble opinion.



Ether Lite

Jay says "the truth needs no explanation", so I won't go in on how your lil synopsis of me as a bible-toting, warrior for all things sanctified who has no interest in fashion is off base.  But I will politely go in on you.  Hey, here's a noble concept: one can actually know what WWJD and WWD stands for. Let me come at you another way: Hoe sit down.

I "lost you" when you tuned in boo...you not being into religion, but a stout follower of the religion of fashion makes you exactly who I was talking about dear. That's why you were turned off.  The beauty of this being my blog is you don't have to be here. I don't remember asking you to stop by anyway. The most hilarious part is there are no labels on this post, so you didn't happen upon it via Blogger. You passed up what were clearly more entertaining posts to dig up "What's That Ye, Baby These Heels" cause it's a lyric in a rap song.  I'm thinking everything else was over your head.  Did you see the one that said Blog Commenting for Dummies? May want to check it out.

Funniest part of all...the only place the link to my blog was recently posted was on Twitter.  Guess there's a reason it's not known as "a place for friends".  That's a throwback to Myspace.  Keep up. You can catch a lot of diseases on the interwebs, so I only have protected tweets. This means you have to be following me to see that link.  LMAO.  And you thought enough of yourself to comment.  That's what kills me softly.  Girl - and I say girl cause you are clearly a female...don't nobody care what you think about my blog.  But, keep following me honey...maybe something that ain't over your head will be discussed.  I'll make sure to dumb down for ya.

Oh, I keeps it funky...so feel free to respond.  I'm sure your an internet gangsta...full of font fights and such. I probably won't respond though.  I already came down off my high horse to address you once.  Carry on.

Note: In response to a comment left in a previous post.


Say What?



Let's just jump right into it. Now, I’m sure it has come to Chris Brown's attention by now that he is the '09 Bobby Brown. The new n*gga ya love to hate. This illustrious title comes with the daunting task of having your every move criticized by Joe public. So, it would behoove Chris to be on his Ps and Qs at all times. Yet, somehow he has managed to completely ignore his current social standing and release what has to be the most pitiful album cover since...well, since some intern at No Limit Records got a hold of Adobe Photoshop.

I do not have the bandwidth to go over every detail of what is wrong this cover. But, I would like to highlight a few items. Chris' cover includes a guitar, Ponte’ pants, Dr. Martens, and a posse of cartoon goblins. Chris you don't play the guitar, so why do you have one in your photo?  You are not in a 90s Seattle garage band, so why the Docs? You are not a girl last I checked, so why the tights?  And guess what, you can hang that kid shyt up, so lose the cartoon characters.  And what does all of this mess mean anyway? None of it even matches Chris.  You got ham no burger here.  Continuity for the L. Oh, let's not forget the freaky robotic arm thingamajigy. What is it?  Why? *blank stare* I guess he was going for a whole edgy, futuristic theme with the planets, guitar, and the lil steel arm. *shrugs* Verdict is still out on the intended message. Until Chris further explains himself, we can only assume that he has lost his ever-loving mind. Chris...what happened?
I'd like to think one of two things took place before this thing went live. Chris, either this was your idea and no one around you cared enough about you to tell you it was stupid...or someone sold you on this nonsensical foolishness. I actually hope it was your brainchild. I'd hate to think that someone pitched this idea to you...and actually convinced you to do it. Now, your girl Rihanna has clearly got issues of her own with her new cover...but damn Chris. You left yourself wide open for this impending sh*tstorm of criticism. I almost feel like you did this on purpose. The old any publicity is good publicity routine. But, what are you going to tell your kids in 20 years when they look back at this monstrosity? Boy sit down. You acted simple on Larry King and now you release this idiocy? Are you trying to make a respectable comeback or not Chris? I guess the only thing that can save you now is the actual music itself.  Maybe a couple dance moves won't hurt.  We want to give you a chance to do right. But you’re making it so damn hard. I think your camp should rethink a few things here. Rework this and get back to us. We’ll be waiting….


Stuff Black People Like


Church - I don’t care how late they stay out the night before, there is a breed of black folks who will ALWAYS find their way to the house of the Lord on Sunday morning. They will show up to church wrinkled, reeking of booze, with not a dollar for offering in sight. But they’ll be there. I have seen grown men sleep through the ENTIRE church service. *SMH* We do not care. As long as we make it. A lot of Black churches have a “come as you are” policy, so you see people wearing things that were never supposed to see the inside of a sanctuary. I once went to church in mismatched shoes. They were both white, patent leather - which counts for something. But they were most certainly not the same shoe. I didn’t notice until I had gotten bored with the sermon and glanced towards the floor. But hey, I was there!

Their Mama - Black people become enraged lunatics if anyone talks about their mothers or grandmothers. You can do almost anything you please, but nobody better not talk about my momma! I’ve seen more fights than I care to remember that started with 2 words: YO MOMMA. But, black folks love to talk about other people’s mothers! Go figure.

Obliterating the English Language - *deep sigh* One bad apple…some black people refuse to speak proper English. Almost as if they’ve never taken a grammar class in their life. Black people will make up words, shorten words - you name it. I am going to entertain you with an example: “I’m finna go to da sto cause we posed to have a party tonight, Lil’ Jay and ‘nem prolly coming…so we gotta get some pacific things cause he picky ‘bout what he is and ain‘t gon‘ eat”. *blinks*

Education - Black people love education. Whether it’s their’s or someone else’s. We love to talk about what college someone is going to attend and how much scholarship money they’re receiving. And if it’s a “full ride” well, we are just outdone. Maybe it is all the drama those who came before us had to endure just to have the right to the same education as others. Maybe it is because a mind is a terrible thing to waste. Maybe it’s because we know we don’t have a snowballs chance in hell without it. I’m not quite sure what it is, but black folks love to be caught matriculating at a university!

The President - Now, let’s not get crazy. I am not saying all black folks love Obama. Most do though. Just when we thought the American Dream may not be available in black AND white, here it is in living color. Obama is a father, a husband, a ridiculously intelligent, ivy league educated black man and he is cooler than a summer breeze. Show me a black woman alive that doesn’t want him as a father, husband, mentor, brother, or friend….and I will show you…well, Jennifer. LOL. We do not judge Obama using the same scale as the rest of the world. To black folks, Obama had won…long before he’d actually won. Don’t act like we like him just cause he’s black…we like Clinton too now! And although he never made it to the presidency, I liked Al Gore back in his day. I mean…he did invent the internet after all. *giggles*

Free Stuff - Words cannot express how much black people love getting things for free. It could be something black folks don’t want, don’t like, are allergic to, or never even heard of. It can be broken, outdated, missing pieces, etc. If we see any use for it (not just the intended purpose), we will gladly take it off your hands. But don’t think you can give us just any old thing now. Let’s be clear. It has to invoke a sense of passion, retain some sort of perceived value. Black folks are picky with their free stuff. You know the saying beggers can’t be choosers? They weren’t talking about black ones. We’re quite choosey with our freebies!

Black Movies - Man oh man. Black people flock to the theater when a black movie is out the way non church going black folks flock to church on CME (Christmas, Mother’s Day and Easter). We like to get a little buzz going on how good the movie is supposed to be, who’s in the movie, etc. approximately 3 months before it’s released. Once a black movie hits theaters, we like to complain about how it is only playing at a limited # of theaters throughout the city and only 4 shows a day. In the movie, we may clap, sing along with any music, and talk through the entire movie. But if there is a black movie coming out, you better believe we will be there (unless we can get it on bootleg - which is something else we are fond of). Oh, we will also settle for a non-African American movie that happens to have black folks in it. For instance, I am currently hyping up the new Disney cartoon that is coming out featuring….wait for it…Disney’s 1st black princess. *awwww*

Living Above Their Means - I’ve seen it time and time again. We love to live above our lot in life. We even have a name for it…ballin’. Black folks will have the new Gucci loafers but no rent money. We will pull up in the baddest car, but be living with our mommas (guilty!). We will do whatever we need to do, to get whatever we want…it matters not whether it is out of our league or within our budget. Lights or the new Louis? Meh, you can have electricity any old time…cop the purse! *SMH*

Shuffles - We love to dance. And the best dancing is done in large, synchronized groups known as shuffles. You may be familiar with the Harlem, Cupid or PV. They are kind of like the boot scootin’ boogie but with rhythm white people. We really like to shuffle at weddings, birthday parties, and family reunions. It is almost a rite of passage for us. When you turn 13, you learn the Harlem Shuffle. I challenge you to find one black person who doesn’t know how to shuffle…


Finally It Happened to Me!


Yesterday, I was perusing the eye care aisle in Walgreen's when I happened upon what is arguably the greatest invention of 2009. THE SNUGGIE! Oh, not just any Snuggie
...the limited edition Breast Cancer Research Foundation PINK Snuggie. God is good! Lol. The Snuggie is a lazy person's best friend and so far me and my Snuggie are getting along fabulously. Not to mention the fact that the good folks over at Snuggie threw in a booklight! Dreams do come true...

-- Posted from my iPhone

Knocking Pictures Off the Wall


Last night I attended a little birthday soiree at an art gallery in Montrose. It was a Mardi Gras inspired masquerade party. I never put my mask on, but I did carry it around for about an hour - which has to count for something. Nice concept, nicely executed. This is important because as we know some of the best laid plans of mice and men often go astray! Wine…sushi…all black everything…it was a pretty good look. And the shindig almost went of without a hitch. There was one little problem. The owner of the art gallery decided (unbeknownst to the birthday boy) to chaperone the revelry. You remember back in the day when you attended a “house party” that would have been off the door hinges…if the kid’s mom wouldn’t have kept coming in turning the lights back on, the music down, and making sure everyone had 6 inches between them on the dance floor? Yeah, it was like that but with a non refundable deposit.


The owner complained that guests were standing too close to the art, the music was too loud, and that she “smelled smoke”. Come on lady. Or as the great Ed Lover would say…c’mon son. Now, this wasn’t my party - so this really isn’t my rice bowl BUT the curator was fully aware of the fact that she was renting out her gallery for a social gathering. Typically, said gatherings are likely to include standing (perhaps even cutting a little jig), tunes, and possibly even a ciggie or two. Let the record state, no one was smoking…well except for the birthday boy…who was quite heated. But there was no lighting up of any tobacco related products (and no, no one was smoking weed either - geez people - we iz classy). The poor fella had to request that the music be turned down so low I couldn’t even decipher one song from the next. Instead of going through the trouble of setting up his equipment, the DJ could have just turned on his car radio and pulled up to the front door. It’s a shame the owner took this man’s loot and allowed him to host his birthday party at her art gallery under false pretenses. She was quite rude and unprofessional about the whole thing. At one point, I saw an alient white man walking nervously through the crowd. Yes, she had called in reinforcements. For what, I am still unsure. Most people were seated or standing. I think I was the only person who danced the whole night (they played Beyonce, what was I supposed to do?). The whole scene was mind boggling. The crowd was far from rowdy, so there was no need to bring in anyone else to further minimize the fun. For getting brand spanking new on what to expect when permitting someone to have a bash on your premises, I curse you vile woman! May your support hose eternally chafe your bum! And I stuck my chewing gum behind one of your pictures wretched woman! Heheheh.

Just kidding…or am I?


Good Hair

Houston...Chris Rock's Good Hair is now playing in a theater near you! Every once in a while a flick like this comes along. Good Hair was praised and shunned before people even peeped the opening credits. My Oprah sources (Nik & Candy) reported that a few black ladies were wiggin’ out (tee hee) when Chris Rock was on the show. One sistah actually accused him of "giving our secrets away". Chile please, RELAX (pun intended). White women are still perplexed as to how a “perm” makes their hair curly and our hair straight...*leans in** I think our "secrets" are safe for now girls. Wait…breaking news…this just in…newsflash: white women do not care what we do with our hair and how we do it! Now some of our hair dos (and don’ts) may be fascinating to them at best, but they have their own hair woes. Heck, dwelling in Houston leaves us all vulnerable to the unavoidable – cotton candy hair! But I digress. I am more than eager to see this film! I hope it lives up to the hype! Hair is kind of a big deal to women. Hair (or lack there of) has caused a stir many times in our day (see Sinead O’Connor, Bo Derek’s cornrows in 10, Jennifer Aniston’s The Rachel, Demi Moore a la GI Jane, and Diana Ross as quick references). After I see the film, I will be weighing in on its social relevance and entertainment value.

Shout out to all my fellow sistah's rocking their natural, chemical free hair - Traci (my real sister), Tasha, Tiffany, Faith, Jennifer, Nikole, Candace, Miriam, Toya, Zsaquez, Talia, Yorusolem, Kera, etc.! Whether it's slippery when wet, curly, wavy, kinky, or nappy...flaunt it girls! I have been RELAXER FREE since August 2001. Eight years strong! And I love it! In the words of India.Arie, I am not my hair...but if I were...life would be good! ;)


Holy Publicity Stunt Batman!


Following the Larry King Live fiasco, Chris Brown’s people got back in the lab to brainstorm another way to spit-shine his tarnished image. This meeting of the minds concluded with the birth of what will surely go down in history as the “Chris Brown Fan Appreciation Tour”. The name alone spawns the debate: does Chris have any fans left? I’d say yes. Now the real question is, will they attend his concert? The verdict is still out on that one. Oh, guess where the tour kicks off. That’s right…Houston friggin’ TX. Chris’ clan says all of the concert’s will be in small venues, to keep the setting “intimate”. This is Swahili for we aren’t sure if people still like dude or if they will come. In an effort not to completely waste our money, your time and Chris’ last ounce of pride, we are going to go ahead and keep this thing compact. I am going to contact his label to let them know my pad is available. I mean, I am sure they won’t need the entire spot, so they can just rent out the living room and kitchen. My first thought was the HOB. But a friend of mine said an establishment like the House of Blues would never allow the likes of Chris Brown in the building. She suggested he try Bar Rio. Perhaps. Maybe he will perform at a nice Knights of Columbus hall.

It will be interesting to see how the radio plays this one. Will they give away tickets to the concert, have him come into the studio, play a Chris Breezy mix the day of the concert - like they do every other artist? Or will they ignore him until he goes away? An appreciation concert will either be the worst idea since Octomom’s reality show or it will be just the thing Chris needs to pull him out of exile. Only time will tell, but I imagine Chris has a uphill battle ahead. Oh, one more question…will he wear a wife beater on stage? *cues rimshot*

I’ve actually forgiven Chris for his misconduct because of his age and the fact that we all fall down. My official stance is that they are both young and it is quite unfortunate that such a private matter had to be played out in such a public forum. We all make mistakes, we all do things we are ashamed of, and we all have the luxury of going through these things in private. I know not everyone will agree. But that’s just my two cents. *flings 2 pennies to the ground*

Let me know if you’re going to attend the concert on November 14. Wear socks…I don’t allow shoes on inside my house!


The Hills are Alive with The Sound of Repugnance


Enlisting Lauren Conrad’s nemesis Kristin Cavallari as her replacement on The Hills sounds splendid…in theory. In heavily scripted reality? Not so much. Kristin is the anti-Lauren. Currently MIA: fancy threads, nifty accessories, commendable 9 to 5, trendy hair do’s, much needed make up, and a real purpose for being “in LA for the summer“. Mtv, I’ve kept a watchful eye on the show’s blog on your site and I’m here to tell you, viewers are not amused.

You cannot replace a Chanel totting, Versace clad, Monolo Blahnik prancing, trend setting glamazon with Kristin Rough Around the Edges Cavallari and foresee a pleasurable outcome. Give us a little credit Mtv. We’re actually thinking while watching television. Crazy huh?

Admittedly, Kristin’s shock value is several notches higher than Lauren’s, but that’s what we had Spencer for. We didn’t need a disagreeable heroine. Gripe #210: Kristin’s sole henchmen is “Stacey the bartender”. *roles eyes* These wenches do not know each other Mtv. Do you think we’re stupid? The Hills has always had a propensity towards faux reality, but come on. I can coherently entertain why Kristin would have been at Speidi’s wedding and the thank God our marriage survived the honeymoon bash, but there’s no viable reason Kristin would be in any other social situation we’ve caught her in thus far. She hasn’t seen Lo since they left Laguna High - and they were anything but friends then. She dated Brody, which is how she knows Spencer, Frankie, and could possibly know She Pratt. But would an alleged “maneater” be hanging with her ex and his entourage? Me thinketh not.

This was not well planned out Mtv. You couldn’t even finagle an interesting employment opportunity for Kristin? You were so excited to run around proclaiming “the bitch is back” that you didn’t even have time to create a believable plot line? Don’t give me that look. We know you got Whitney Port her job at DVF for your snoozer of a spin off, The City. If the show is going to be Reality Lite, at least make it entertaining. I’m so disappointed in you, Mtv. When Lauren grew tired of the cameras, you should’ve concluded the show. You’ve cheapened it by bringing Kristin in to pinch hit for Lauren. Kristin has managed to squander away Lauren's legacy in just 3 episodes with her unbridled knack for tackiness. I was holding off on unleashing this ether, for what appeared to be Jade plunging a swig of vodka in Kristin’s face. But this was merely smoke and mirrors. Mtv tried to bide some time with the trickery of editing. Now that last week’s episode exposed the naked truth behind that farce, I’m done.

Grand opening, grand closing. The Hills is a sinking ship. Lo, Brody, and Audrina please grab the nearest life preserver and abort! Mtv, why don’t you shows some music videos in that timeslot? Remember those?

There's An App For That

I downloaded an app which allows me to blog from my iPhone. Things may never be the same. The ability to blog in real time? Lines will be crossed, friendships ruined, alliances made. Words are sure to be incorrectly autocorrected! Stay tuned for What Looks Like Crazy On An Ordinardy Day on the go! I've got my ear to the street and my finger on the touchscreen!

-- Posted from my iPhone


Stuff White People Like


Coffee - I sometimes ponder what life would be like for WP had Starbucks never opened its doors. I bet 27 WP just shuddered at the idea. Coffee is the official modus operandi of the white, working professional. They’ll welcome any form of caffeine. Subsequently, Red Bulls and soda are also in heavy rotation. If a white person ever goes MIA at work, look in 1 of 2 spots - outside on the beloved “smoke break” or hovering over a cup of Joe. As if white people didn’t have a hard enough time understanding us, I always leave them bewildered when I get to the counter and order DECAF. *hears white lady gasp*

Showing Up Early - Look, y’all think WP aren’t familiar with “CP time”. They’re well versed in the highly probability of us running late. Adding insult to injury, they’ll show up 15 minutes early just for the hell of it. White folks hold off 10 minutes, unless it’s for a job interview, to get our hair done, or involves money in anyway. We’ll be on time for any of the aforementioned events!

Ruining Urban Vernacular - WP like to over saturate slang to the point where no self-respecting black person will ever touch it again. E.g. what‘s up, you go girl, and bling bling. All once used by blacks, but have since been forced into extinction. A white lady at work asked me “why are you such a hater?”. I almost passed out. Used it in the right context too! This would normally be cause for concern, but hater is safe for now. She’s an early bloomer on the proper utilization. I salute you, trailblazing woman of genius!

Being Outdoorsy - First thing that comes to mind is hunting. You’d think white folks learned their lesson when Cheney shot that man in the face. Nope. Not only are WP still hunting, they’re teaching their kids. God help us. White folks love to be outside. Typically found camping, skiing, rock climbing, boogie boarding. Black folks spent enough time outside running around barefoot in the bush of Africa. We prefer A/C.

Hollister - It’s a widely known fact that WP single handedly keep this store afloat. Abercrombie & Fitch and American Eagle too…but, Hollister is the whitest white brand of them all. Largest size they offer is extra medium. Warning: may be required to take brown paper bag test before being granted entry into store. Make sure you study!

Hummus - Looks like wet cement. Tastes the same. If you attend any social gathering held in a white person‘s honor, you’ll be offered hummus. Instructions: Take small spoon full. Sequester to corner of plate. Leave untouched. And for Pete’s sake, don’t divulge the fact that you’ve never had it before. Take heed!

- WP will forego making it inside the stadium for 6 beers, anything off the grill, a hand-held radio, and a fold-out chair. Season tickets? Yeah, they got ‘em. But, they only use the parking passes! Once they set up shop, they leave only after the beer runs out.

Fairness - I know y’all like when things are fair. So, I have a stuff black people like coming soon…


Miss Guided

Lil Mama...*SMH* Bey tried to told you not to do this. I thought this was an urban legend, but it is quite real. Bey tried to stop Lil Mess from taking the stage. Why on earth would anyone in their right mind charge the stage in a rhinestoned tie dye corset and Babyphat jeans anyway? Poor thing.

Eat at Mo’s


...if you like your meals spicy with a side of ho. Let’s rewind a bit. Last week I went to a little steak place on the corner of Why Me Blvd. and No Shame Ave. As I’m heading inside my friend says, “Oh, this place is apparently known for being a spot where men come to meet hookers”. *looks into camera* Exsqueeze me!? Initially, I didn’t think much of that little tidbit. But after say 20 minutes, you could tell something wasn’t quite right. It was a brothel cleverly hidden inside the bar area of a dining establishment. You could spot the women who'd accidently wandered in oblivious to the goings on of this place…and you could tell who the ‘tutes were in an instant. Yes, prostitutes.

Apparently Herve Leger plus Christian Louboutin divided by class equals I’m a hooker at Mo’s because every white man in a 100 mile radius decided we fell in the latter of the two categories. Just our luck, black women seem to be in high demand in the underworld of hookery. These dudes were on us like white on brown rice. One stalked me from across the room, then made his move. Before I knew it he'd welcomed himself into my personal space. Once inside this sacred area, he proceeded to ramble off obscene desires in what I believe to be English. I managed to shake him. But he didn’t go far. He kindly helped himself to a sample of the entire table. Fondling us with his dirty words, undressing us with his senile eyes. I decided enough was enough when he ever so gently suggested that he and I get a room. *moves eyebrows up and down rapidly* We did what any respectable sistahs would do. We enlisted the help of nearest angry black man to scare him off. After Father Time let us be, the younger men started wandering over to gawk at us. I felt like an animal in the effin zoo. Dudes would trot on over to take a gander, but luckily stayed a healthy distance away. Almost like there was some invisible force field of class keeping them at bay.

After about 2 hours and 32 unspoken invitations for a romp in the hay, we got the hell out of Dodge. As we exited stage left, one of the ‘tutes tossed us a glance and hopped into her Maserati. I swear I heard her say “you broads ain’t got enough stamps in your passport to f*ck with me” as she peeled out of the parking lot. But maybe not...


Repeat Offenders

Every Tom, Dick and Harry know celebs live by a different creed than us regular folks. They’re typically ostracized for wearing something more than once. Which really isn’t fair given the retail value of their merchandise. But, I won’t be feeling sorry for them anytime soon. Thanks to the ever present stalkerazzi, commoners can open a magazine or turn on the tube on any given Sunday to catch our beloved stars doing anything from going to the grocery store to attending a movie premier. And if they happen to be doing so in the same threads we saw them in last week… it's most certainly curtains for them! Although I am famous for running my favorite pieces into the ground…since I am not famous for anything else, I get a pass! Catching a celebrity in the same ANYTHING more than once, has become as noteworthy as who they were last seen canoodling with. People mag even has a monthly piece called “I Really Love My…” where they put superstars on blast for rocking something 3 or 4 times in public. It can be as simple as a belt or necklace, we don’t care. We love to see anything which offers proof that stars are mere mortals. And repeating outfits tops the list of things normal people do. There are a few stars in this galaxy - I won’t name names (MEAGAN GOOD)- who have zero shame in being photographed in the same thing twice. Meagan is a sexy beast we all know this…but we would like to see her in something other than the disco tights from American Apparel and that leather bomber she always dons. Meagan…c’mon sister, get a stylist. Although you're C-list at best, Rachel Zoe would gladly take you in...

Big ups to www.Fashionista101.com!


The Bail Out Book Club...endings, who needs 'em?

I've always had a love affair with reading. As a youngster I loved The Babysitters Club, Sweet Valley Twins, and Where the Sidewalk Ends. I thought Shel Silverstein was God. Imagine my surprise in learning that Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me Too wasn't in the bible! Even earlier than that I was obsessed with reading Beverly Cleary’s Ramona Quimby, Pickle Juice, The Chocolate Touch, Judy Blume's Tales of the Fourth Grade Nothing, and of course Are you There God? It's Me Margaret. Man, those books are a part of me. *hears someone in background do nerd cough* I'd like to think reading helped shape my vivid imagination. Honorable mention: hours upon hours of television may have helped too. But in my old age, I have been become somewhat of a book bandit. Starting books, but failing to finish them. The little Mocity girl in me is standing in the harshest judgment of the Houston lady of leisure I have become, who has no time to finish books and no shame in quitting. Have I no dignity? Apparently not. And if dignity is masterfully hidden on the last page of a good book, I may never find mine!

Books I have recently abandoned:
The DaVinci Code
The Hour I First Believed
Eat, Pray, Love
The Lovely Bones
A Million Little Pieces
Valley of the Dolls

The good thing is the list of books I have read in their entirety is much longer. But, I am losing my geek cred (like street cred but with Barnes & Nobles reward cards). I'm starting a new book tonight. We will just have to see how this one goes...but the odds of me finishing it are about as good as Chris Brown and Rhianna meeting me for a domestic violence rally later tonight...at which Lil Momma will join us on stage uninvited standing beside me in her B Boy stance...then Kanye will storm the stage, grab the mic and let everyone know that Lil Momma's interruption was good...but he just had one of the best interruptions of all times.

*yawns* Maybe I will start the book tomorrow...

What's that Ye? Baby these heels...


I have never been the type of chick to keep up with what season something came out in. i.e. These are from the 2009 Gucci Cruise Collection. *barf* And..so effin what...who keeps up with that stuff? I bet those who do can't tell you how many books there are in the new testament! And no, The Book of Prada doesn't count as one. I have also never been one to keep up with what season you're not supposed to wear things in. i.e. no white after labor day. When it is socially acceptable to wear boots v. sandals. Ahh, who cares. I don't even adhere to the light nail polish in the summer, dark in the winter rule. I wear what I want...when I want. I got better things to do than be worried about some alleged fashion rules. When I roll out of bed I grab the last thing I had on or whatever fits..and rock with it. That being said, I am not a self proclaimed "shoe girl". I believe this is the only attribute separating me from being Carrie Bradshaw. I typically like shoes that are cute, fit these narrow @$$ feet of mine, and don't hurt my dogs.  I wore my Louboutins last night, so you can probably hear them barking through your PC. *grrrr* I am notorious for putting a spare pair of flippies in my handbags in preparation for the old switcheroo later in the night. I guess it's the boughetto in me. Chile please, I will pull out my flats/throw those heels in my bag so fast you won't even see it happen. I have been in some of the fanciest places in these great states in my $2 old navy flip flops. Hey, everybody situation ain't the same! Those who know me know the deal! But, like any chick with a healthy estrogen level, a nice shoe will catch my eye. I think these joints are hot...nothing like the Obama sneakers, but still hot!


One hell of a night!

Ever imagine what it would be like in hell? I bet you have, you devil, you. I liken hell to a bad night out at the club. You know the night. The one that never ends. Starts off with intentions on having one drink and heading home, but after a series of unfortunate events you end up out until 5am. Yeah, one of those nights.

Upon entering hell, every woman is charged $900 in exchange for a pair of Christian Louboutins (the red bottoms would be fitting in hell). Loubous are THE must have status symbol of today's relevant woman and they happen to be the most uncomfortable shoes I have ever owned. Only in hell would you gladly pay $1K to be that uncomfortable. Thanks Christian! The Hell welcome committee also tosses everyone a pair of Spanx on their way in. I remember when I donned my first pair of Spanx. I was in Miami (of all places). Things were looking up (especially my butt which was being held a good 5 inches higher in the air than usual by the new age girdle). Then I ate....a. lot. Now...not being accustomed to the restrictions of the Spanx...I may have overindulged a bit. I have always had a very healthy appetite, so this wasn't anything out of the ordinary. BUT, the Spanx and my belly conspired against me...in a revolt of epic proportions. I look back fondly on that day as what will go down in history as the worst day of my tummy's life. Since then, I have learned to control the control tops. But, in hell...every girl's Spanx would be 1 size too small and squeeze so tight that circulation would be cut off once you wiggle into the evil contraption known as Spanx. Hell only has knock off handags.  Good luck with that.  You also have the following fragrance options...CK One, Designer Imposters -Primo, or White Diamonds.  Any one is pretty classy.  So it's a win - win.  Oh, since this is hell...you also got your hair highlighted with Sun In earlier that day...you have now managed to pull the few strands you have left into a banana clip - which is the only hair accessory available in hell. Hell was advertised as free before 11, but you get there at 10:45 and are charged $25. You have no cash, there is not ATM. Welcome to hell. You head over to the bar only to realize hell is limited to 4 drink options which are Colt 45, Fuzzy Navel wine coolers, Zima, or Boone's Farm. Pick your poison. It takes about 30 minutes to get one drink since hell's wait staff is none other than the same jerks you can currently catch waiting tables daily at Cyclone Anaya's in Midtown. Quite possibly the rudest people to ever take your order. My friends and I had a brief love affair with that place a few summers ago. There was not a Saturday afternoon that didn't catch us on the patio of Cyclone's. And although we were clearly regulars...they always managed to make us feel like the 1st black family to move to Vidor. I strongly dislike them. Glad to see they made it to hell. Thx, Mgt. You get your drink and saunter over to VIP, but it is a futile effort. VIP is impossible to get into in hell, so you and your entourage has been banished to the dance floor. Did I mention hell only plays songs everyone secretly loves but would never admit to knowing...like LMFAO's I'm in Miami Trick, Flo Rida's Head Right Round, and Miley Cyrus' Butterfly Fly Away. The ratio of women to men in hell is 62:2 (if you are a woman, it is vice versa if you are a man). It seems as though the only members of the opposite sex in the room are your ex's and the other party in any one night stand you've ever chose to partake in. C’mon son, it's hell. After you have thrown up in the bathroom, fell asleep in the DJ booth, and lost your cell phone (which never had service anyway...hello...this is hell! no bars in no places), you finally convince your friends to leave. On your way out of Club Hell, you realize your car has either been stolen, hit, or towed. If you are a certain "best friend" of mine, a fourth option is your car is in one piece, but you run out of gas on the freeway. LOL. Either way, this is hell...so good luck getting home.

Amber Rose: An Ode to Ambivalence


She's bold, she's crass...her boobs are too big and she has too much @$$. She chain smokes. Her boyfriend is a jerk (when the cameras are rolling). And she is quite possibly the only woman in history to have a spread in a high fashion magazine bent over in a pair of daisy dukes. You can typically catch her rocking a suit...sadly, not a three piece...she seems to  prefer birthday or cat. She must have stock in spandex. It's all she owns. She wears glasses at night, thongs to the beach, and white contacts on the red carpet. She doesn't mind being photographed in cages, a full frontal squat, on all fours, or taking a bottle of Hennessey to the head. She has too many tattoos and not enough hair. She used to be a lesbian but I guess Ye really doesn't care (he did say he'd do anything for a blonde dike...and she'd do anything for the limelight). Some days I think Kanye exploits the girl, other days I am certain she is exploiting herself! She has mastered the art of being seen and not heard. When was the last time (or first time for that matter) you have heard her utter a word? She's all wrong...but it seems so right. Despite the fact that she is Stripclub Chic...for some unexplainable reason...WE LOVE THIS GIRL. I am not sure when it happened. Definitely not sure how. But the world has stopped to smell the Amber Roses. Smells like Teen Spirit...with a dash of desperation. Or maybe a little like S-e-x Panther.  I love how Kanye takes her to fashion week in Paris...dresses her up in evening gowns...lets her rub elbows with the elite...but she always manages to make her way back to the gutter. It's so Pretty Woman of them.  If she ever has to choose between the pole and the high life, I hope Amber Rose takes the fairytale!


10 Things I Hate About You


Yeah right! I couldn't hate this chick if I tried.  I have an ongoing fascination with Victoria Bechkam aka Posh.  It started about 13 years ago when I saw the oddest video late one night on Mtv (back when they still showed videos).  There was so much going on.  Chicks flipping, dancing on tables, disturbing the peace...a wicked cool black chick with crazy hair, a red head with big boobs...but amidst it all, my eyes kept traveling back to the seemingly more reserved and fashion conscious chick in the bunch.  Who is this gal, I wondered.  Well...who the hell are these people was my 1st thought, but you get the idea.  I love you Posh...and here's why...

10.  You've made "soccer mom" cool again (wait, was it ever?).  You're quite possibly THE jazziest soccer mom on the planet. I salute you woman of genius.

9.  You don't like being called "Vicky".  I hate nicknames...so I found this tidbit to be quite interesting. Everyone is so lazy nowadays.  People will even find a way to shorten a nickname.  Call me by my gobment name!

8. You change your hairstyle, color, and length like folks change their drawers.  I dig it.  I've never seen a style I didn't like. 

7. Your kids have the most awesome names: Brooklyn, Romeo, and Cruz. How cool are they?

6. Your an author.  Not one...but two books in your repertoire. And as your resident thick chick...trust me, that extra half an inch makes all the difference in the world. Thanks for the suggestion!

5. You're not "too good" for the hood. I mean you DO have a son named Brooklyn.  But, seeing one of the most famous people in the UK do a Rocawear ad = cool feelings.  You made urban wear look...well...quite posh! 

4. You have a Hermes' Berkin bag for every day of the week. White...purple...burnt orange...pink. Who but you? And you carry them to the darndest place i.e. Football (aka soccer) games!

3. Your dress game is vicious! Style icon is the label you wear best. Undeniably one of the flyest chicks in the game. The heels...tha handbags...the haute couture...the hot to defness of it all is too much!

2. Your husband.  David Beckham.  I want to keep this thing respectable...so I will tread lightly....but this
man is BE-YOU-Tee-FULL.  If you ever want to trade dudes, I'm game. *peeks into your window for a glimpse of Becks*

1. You have successfully mastered the art of looking arroganltly above it all.  You always seem so over it, without coming across as uninteresting. It works for you.

Dirty Low Down Monkey With a Wig On


I went to bed last night telling myself I needed to blog about this week's episode of Real Housewives asap. When I woke up this morning, I heard that Kandi's fiancé had been killed. I took to Twitter like any respectable journalist would...and sure enough Kandi had confirmed the awful news. Since life can't be all fun and games (sometimes it's about guns n' roses)...I wanted to mention what happened before I recapped the episode. AJ's children and Kandi are in my thoughts today. With that being said....*how can one give a good segue out of that...all I can do is jump into it!*

*SMH* That NeNe almost outdid herself in the latest installment of The Real Housewives of Atlanta. I believe I may have been partaking in a cold beverage just about the time she called Kim a dirty low down monkey in a wig. As I wiped juice off my shirt, I realized NeNe is in fact insane. She is quite a character, that one. But let's rewind a bit. Since last week's episode was sort of a snoozer, I decided not to dedicate an entire blog to it. However, I would like to give it a few minutes of airtime to address "The Pocketbook Monologues". I was floored by the way that old lady blatantly swagger jacked The Vagina Monologues. LOL. Why do black people think you can change a few words around, add a bit of chocolate and walla....whole new idea! You can't. Also...if I heard "triangle between their thighs" one more time I was going to throw myself over the banister. And another thing, Sheree's portrait....*looks into camera* GIRL BYE! She looked so damn simple in that painting. She should have had James Evans Jr. paint her! Anyway...in this week's episode...they recorded Tardy for the Party...then debuted it at Kandi and Kim's birthday party. The song went over well. Kim still can't sing, but Kandi needs to pull her little friend to the side and explain to her the invention of Autotune...cause Kim seems to think that is her real voice on that song. Honey you're a fool! What else happened? Oh, Kim got engaged...to a married man. *scratches head* Is that even legal? Ha! Kim has two young daughter's and proclaimed to the world, "I have no problem with dating a married man". Boy, Mother of the Year is going to be a close call this year! Since the blogosphere is already going wild on that one...I will leave it alone. Did anything else of note take place? Oh, Kandi performed. I actually like her song, I Fly Above. Kind of catchy. Her outfit at her performance was rather questionable...but the girl is in mourning...so I will let her alone. Sheree and Dwight have thrown caution (and commonsense) to the wind and decided to team up for the SHE by Sheree fashion show. I think it's going down between them next week...so put a bookmark there as Nikole would say. Sheree took the idiot stick figure with no soul ("Tania" is what she answers to I hear) to NYC with her to look at her samples. The samples were abysmally ordinary. I don't understand what Sheree is trying to pull here but I guess we will just have to wait and see...

I'm feeling some kind of way as Paco says...like the season started off really good and is sort of fizzling out.  Somebody better get slapped or shift a wig soon or these chicks may not see a season 3!

Before we go...did you happen to catch Dwight running like a caught slave in his spandex onesie and heels in the preview for next week's episode? OMG. If you missed that magical moment, grab your boogie board and surf over to bravotv.com STAT! 


Lurking in the shadows...it's a bird...it's a plane...nope, it's just Solange!


As an honorable mention to my ode to Bey, I thought it only right to give a little shine to the other Knowles girl. You know, what's her name. Oh yeah...Solange...aka Solo Star *snickers*. I happen to like Solange and her music. She's got chutzpah! Bey once said in an interview that she wishes she were more like her little sister...says Solange is feisty...tells it like it is and is not afraid to be 100% herself! My friend Tolu argues that Solange is artistically more creative than Bey...I tend not to agree but can respect her argument. Bey is an entertainer in every sense of the word. Solange ain't got enough stamps in her passport to be compared to Bey just yet --probably not ever. I would liken Bey to a Hollywood summer blockbuster, while Solange is like a good indy flick that has a small, but loyal fan base. So depending on whether you are a main stream music lover or an underground feign...you might tend to prefer one over the other. I don't dare compare the two. They are mutually exclusive in my book. But, I would like to take a minute to address this misconception that Solange is "not cute". Admittedly, I am probably a little biased here since they say we favor. Solange is too purdy! She just doesn't look like Bey. Beyonce is a miniature Tina. Solange may or may not look more like Matthew...what's it to ya!? I think she is a very cute girl. And I do like that she gets a little high class gangsta on folks too.  Remember when she got hood...you know HOOD...on that reporter bc she though she was going to ask her about Jay? That was awesome. Trot over to You Tube if you missed it. Very boughetto at all times. Another thing we obviously have in common. The thing I liked the most is how when the reporter cleared up lil Bey's misunderstanding of what happened, Solange responded with a nonchalant, dry "oh ok". Hehhehe. Oh...also worth mentioning...I happen to know a real life (recovering) Solange Stan. Can you believe that!? Won't mention any names...JENNIFER...but yes, Solo has stans too. Mom and Dad should be so proud. My one gripe is sometimes Solange gets a little too Lady GaGa with her 'fits. But at least she's skinny and has a swagger (worked SWAGGER in just for you Jen, I know how much you love the word) with those little outifts of her. Solange...I salute you. You are eternally in your sister's shadow...yet you STILL have managed to get your shine on! Gon' girl....

And it all started on Beyonceworld.net......


Like any good Stan would, I like to keep a watchful eye on the comings and goings of my girl Bey. But, what begins with the best intentions always seems to end in despair. A few years ago a friend of mine (Tasha!) banished me from visiting the illustrious .commer that is beyonceworld.net. Said I was catching feelings on the site. Couldn't handle the fabulousness of the life that is Bey G. Knowles'. I would start out praising, but end up pouting. And it was true. I couldn't help myself. Last night, as I reached what I like to call the end of the internet, I casually sauntered on over to beyonceworld.net. To my dismay, nothing had changed. Still the whole shyt of the whole night. Still married to him *swoons*. Still globetrotting. Still flyy as f*ck. What started out ooooh, ended up ewwww. Is it just me or is Bey having the best week ever...every. single. week. *sigh* I mean how can one chick have it all? Intense beauty...just enough booty (no homo)...more money than God...a supportive family...and the flyest dude ever made (what up Jay!). If I didn't love her so much, I would secretly wish for some sort of hidden affliction. Maybe bacne, a suspicious mole, perhaps an 11th toe. She has it all. And she had the audacity to have actually worked for all of the things she has. The gall! :) Actual work...not like the "work" Kim and Paris have done for their alleged "fame". No offense Kim...I heart you too. Paris...you're dead to me (see cottage cheese in a trash bag remark for reasons). I mean...Bey you know I am obsessed with you er...I love you....but dang man......*folds arms*. It just doesn't seem fair for so much awesomeness to be packed into one girl. And the proverbial cherry on top...is that all of the best designers in the world send Bey the best pieces from their collections every year. Her life is an endless room of free swag. One of the only women in this galaxy who can actually afford all of the finer things in life gets them for the low, low price of absolutely free. Where is the fairness in this world I ask you? Make no mistake about it...I am a proud, card-carrying Beyonce Stan. I just get a little sidetracked every once and again. It's the Bey Effect. I'm feeling a bit like Icarus. Last night I got too close to the sun! But I digress. Bey...you are the greatest. You keep us all on our toes. They wub to hate on you... and I love to watch them try. Keri Hilson and Amerie *rolls eyes* had the NERVE to come at you sideways. They should be waiting in line to kiss your ring! Oh...and P.S. for Amerie to claim you jacked her swag...not to mention her producer...teehehe...she is looking a lot like you in her (where is NeNe when you need her?) ALTER EGO PHOTOSHOOT. She gets two thumbs down for that one. But you know what they say Bey. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. And Keri...you so weak/whack for trying to pretend like you weren't firing shots at Bey on that remix girl...if you are going to do it...DO IT. Don't throw a rock then hide your hand. Who knew Keri was a studio gangsta!? Well...I was feeling a bit J...about Bey and Jay....but it has passed....see all I have to do is talk this thing through....and all is right with the world again. See Tasha...I told you I could handle going on that site! I mean I was out on the ledge for a while....but at least the breeze was nice! I'll catch you good folks later, I'm going to head on over to beyonceworld.net to see what I have missed in the last 24. Brunch with Obama? Tea with the Queen perhaps? Whatever it is...I'm sure I can handle it!


I Knew It Would Come to This!


Apparently you can teach your embryo to read for the low, low price of $51.99. Parents are all over this one. But in my not so humble opinion, this is one of the scariest innovations I have seen in a long time. I am not sure why I am so freaked out by it. Something just doesn't seem right. A reading fetus? I kid, I kid. But seriously folks, some of these kiddos can barely talk...correction: some of them can't even talk...all they can do it point at the physical form of whatever word they just read! It's not right I tell ya. I mean, why should a one year old know how to read? What good will it do? It will almost always lead to trouble for anyone around them. Watch! Think of all the capers that will most certainly ensue. A reading baby! What's next...a black president? *teehee* Ever notice in the "info-mercial" the kid is always reading in the dark or some awkward, inappropriate setting? It all seems so hush hush and low key. Like the parents know it's odd, so they have to sneak and teach their baby to read. We all know knowledge = power. You want to give your babies this much power? They will rule the roost! Lack of privacy will be at an all time high. If these little braniacs can read, they can spell. Remember the good old days when any respectable parent could have a highly inappropriate conversation with their kid right there in the room? Ahh the joy of spelling out words around those who can't spell. It's America's favorite pastime is what it is. Using someone's lack of knowledge as an opportunity to take advantage of them...well, it's the American way. Now they want to take this pleasure away from us adults? What are we supposed to do now? Wait until the kids are not around to tell the story of how Jane's husband walked in on her having s-e-x with the pool boy? No way! They just sold us all down the river. And for 52 bucks? Catastrophic! And medicine cabinets across the nation will never be safe again. I'll tell you that much. Go ahead and forget about trying to put child safety locks on them. All the baby Einstein has to do is read the directions on how to work around them! Next, Junior will be at Sunday School telling everyone how mommy found a box of something called "Trojans" in daddy's car. Is this what you want? Or your infant ruining little Shlomo's bris with the untimely tale of while rummaging through her personals, he happened upon a bottle of Valtrex under his older sister's bed. To do lists, journals and diaries will be forced into extinction. And your IMs and text messages are as good as read. You'll be a prisoner in your own home. All because you wanted Madeline to have a jump on pre-K. This is sure to ruin Christmas. How you ask? Well, I haven't quite worked out the logistics of this thing yet. But you mark my word...if Christmas is indeed ruined, a literate 16 month old will be the culprit! Remember back in our day, when a child was to be seen and not heard. I think our parents were on to something. You people always want to rush things. Then look back and wonder where the time went. Little Ethan is sure to embarrass you through this reading foolishness. You just wait and see.

Is this the life you want for yourself? If so, order today!


Changing The Game


As most people with a tv, radio, or internet access know, last season the CW decided to call timeout on The Game. I know legions of viewers who watched religiously. All of whom were pissed to the highest of pisstivity when they heard the news. Petitions were signed...hissy fits were thrown...and accusations were made. But when it was all said and done, the CW had the final word - after all money talks. Despite speculations of foul play from conspiracy theorists and die hard fans alike, the channel cited slipping ratings as "one of the reasons" they were letting The Game go. So, they tossed it aside and introduced a whole slew of new shows for their Fall lineup. One of which is called The Beautiful Life. Or shall I saw was. That's right folks, after only TWO measly episodes, the CW has cancelled the show. Produced by Ashton Kutcher and starring a few heavy hitters like Mischa Barton and Elle Macpherson, The Beautiful Life was supposed to be the next big thing. Guess things weren't so pretty after all. Frick! It just chaps my hide that they axed The Game and one of their new shows failed so miserably. The Beautiful Life only got 1 million viewers in its second week. That must have been the exact moment the CW decided The Beautiful Life was dying an ugly death. It is the first show of the season to be cancelled. And I can't help but think the CW really screwed the pooch on this one. Pooch Hall to be exact...along with Tia Mowry and the rest of the cast of The Game. Only time will tell how the CWs other shows do. I hear the vampire one is doing well. But I ask you, what vampire show wouldn't do well on the heels of the MANIA known as Twilight? It's a no brainer. Their also betting on 90210 and Melrose Place (which has also had low ratings thus far) to keep them afloat in the land of television relevancy. Wait? Did I really just say that? 90210 and Melrose Place. *scratches head* Hey CW...1994 called...they want their lineup back! *rolls eyes*


Allow me to reintroduce myself...

Hey young world. I've been toying with the notion of giving this blogging business a go. So, here I am. Of course I have NaN followers to date, but I will corner all my friends until they give. Unsure of where to begin, I asked Regis if I could phone a friend. Friend said "an intro would be nice". So, an intro it is. I am a VERY random thinker...so hold on tight...this may be a bumpy, nonsensical ride!

Oh...before this thing pops off...I am a pecker...no, not a d*ck....I peck...as in my typing skills are quite unorthodox. Now, my pecking game is quite beastly...but since Mavis Beacon told me to kick rocks back in '82, I tend to have a surplus of typos. Get used to it. I like to blame it on the iPhone (and/or the alcohol) whenever possible...but I can't at this juncture. So let the record state I iz not dumb...just too arrogantly oblivious to review and revise. My Journalism professors would be so proud. Now that that's out of the way, back to our regularly scheduled programming...

I am a single black female, addicted to retail (and complex carbohydrates). Hailing from the great state of Texas, USA (in case thing thing goes worldwide). I love what I like and I loathe what I don't. There isn't much middle ground with me. I tend to be overly passionate and have an opinion about almost everything. I am almost always 100% honest (60% of the time, it works every time) which is a gift and a curse. I speak without thinking...and always out of turn. When people 1st meet me they think I am a BIA....if i had a nickel for every time someone said, "I didn't like you when I first met you...but you are a really nice girl"...I would have $626.82

I'd like to give you a flavor for what you are dealing with here...so let's go over a few things I like...and a few things I am hoping will vanish by the end of this entry.

Things I Like (aka things I am absolutely obsessed with):
-One Miss Beyonce Giselle Knowles-Carter (this is a hate Bey free blog. You will be banished if you say 1 ill word) + her hubby....
-Saying "what a douche"...and charting a man's level of douchery...on a scale of Von Dutch to Christian Audigier.
-Rachel Zoe...I die! And Brad...currently loving Brad. (Tay-Tay would fall in the list below).
-Sex and the City...Carrie Bradshaw...what more can I say? The show had more sex and puns than the law should allow...and I loved every minute of it! He broke up with me on a POST IT!
-Lounging (defined as watching DVR in my undies)
-Sorority Life...it's an obsession is what it is....
-Law & Order (SVU only)
-Quoting movies. Do I smell an upcoming blog of best movie lines ever? *sniff sniff* Perhaps....

Things I am not feeling (aka I cannot stand the following):
-This recession...I have committed to being a frugalista...but dammit it is cramping my style!
-Street teams (give it a rest with the fliers!)
-When people throw Glitter in Mariah's face. Let the girl die of shame on the inside in peace!
-"Brangelina" (I mean what exactly is it that they are doing?). Now, here is where it gets complicated...I like Angelina...I like Brad...but together...not so much.
-The Latin J.Lo...remember when she dated Puffy...and she was real black and street (you know STREET)....that's the J. Lo I like...big booty bandanna rockin Jenny from the Boogie down Bronx.
-When people say "I like to have fun"....MF who doesn't? Sit down!
-Octomom...makes me want to barf...and buy Trojans.
-Cheaters (no, not the show...that would fall under things I love for $200 Alex...I hate ppl who cheat - but not on tests...just on other people...ya dig?)
-People who treat animals better than people (this will be the topic of a blog...I fall victim to this too)
-"the stories" aka soap operas...who needs them?
-court TV *falls asleep*

On the Fence about:
-Any song the 1st time I hear it
-The quiet, maternal Nicole Richie
-Jessica Simpson post Nick Lachey
-What REALLY happened b/t Perez Hilton and ole dude from the Black Eyed Peas
-The Hills replacing Lauren with Kristin....only time will tell...oh, while we are on the subject...
-The City
-Cat people (LOL @ the fact that I used to have one)
-Rula's voice...do I hate it...or does it remind me of my own? Too soon to tell...

Since I am so big on words...you need to know that I love these words (in no particular order and for no particular reason):

1. lackadaisical
2. inconsequential
3. reciprocity
4. Catbert (yes the evil Director of HR)
5. dill weed (as in...you are a)
Honorable mention: Underoos

Not so big on these here words:
1. wheat germ
2. frothy
3. humble (when pronounced incorrectly as "umble")
4. vermin
5. nail bed

Well, I do realize most people stopped reading long ago. I have clearly made a mockery of the art of blogging with my shenanigans and mindless ramblings of nothingness. If you are still here, thanks for playing. You can fill out a survey to let me know if you enjoyed this. When you are finished, place the survey in the grey box under my desk marked trash. I'm outee Dee! See you around. Hope not sporadically!

This is a test...I repeat, this is a test. If this had been an actual emergency...well, we would all be in BIG trouble!