Three Years Later… Post Glory Days, and Other Bullshit

I turned 28.

*dead pause*

And as dry as that sentence was is exactly how I spent it.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to be alive; Praise God, but as much as I hate to admit it—I’m truly an old bitch grown up now. I remember when I went home to recuperate from life back in 2007 all I wanted was for my anxiety to be gone so I could go to happy hours and clubs with my peoples, drank tequila, and paint the town red…and green, and mafuckin gold.

But no more.

I would love to say it’s because the old crew has disbanded, people who used to love you no longer love you, you no longer love them, bitches got kids and shit, et cetera et cetera. But honestly, even if I had the chance to do it—I don’t think I’d want to.

I am in fact the reason that I am an old bitch.

When you spend 3 years working to feel calm (and this is still in progress), learning to be still when all you want to do is run (for no damn reason at that) ; facing things, and being a grown ass woman—the last thing on your agenda is guzzling dranks and dropping it down low to the floor.

I mean, even when I heard my favorite club (Love) had re-opened I still didn’t feel compelled to go out. That was when I knew it was over for me, because back in the day if I heard the gang was going to Love, I all but wet my panties.

Besides. None of my bad bitches were here to hit it up with me. Plus, I might still be on the banned list from that one night…

*blankstare*

We’ll talk about that hot mess another day. Anywho.

Trust me, I ain’t knocking nobody if this is still their thing. It’s just not mine anymore. And I accept that.

Sheeit…all I wanna do is remain happy, grow closer to God, work this job, get my IA certificate, make more money, marry my baby (most days), have us a baby (most days) , and enjoy feeling calm. I guess I wanna do a lot. But its feasible.

Anyway, I did end up going home for my birthday. Oddly enough the only friends that came to see me were my homey Tamika, Nay, and *gasp* the Drunken Munchkin aka DM.

DM and I have developed quite the friendship actually. He’s actually cool as hell, and I can see why we were best of friends in middle school. I don’t even mind that he’s a chatterbox now. Could be because he’s not generating conversation that’s cutting into dick-time.

*Shrug*

He’d been telling me for weeks he had something to tell me. I guessed either he got someone pregnant or was getting married.

DM swung by my house and he and I went for a walk around the block and he admitted the former: DM gon’ be a daddy ya’ll.

This is truly weird. I can’t picture him as someone’s dad. I can only see him as the nasty trollop who kisses really great, gives spectacular head, and throws some of the meanest penis. But in spite of that, he gon’ be somebody’s daddy.

Apparently it doesn’t change the freak in him cause he was trying to convince me to fuck for old time’s sake. I had to let him know it wasn’t gon’ happen. And then we walked back to my house and had ice cream cake and laughed til the wee hours of the morning.

Went to church the next day (my actual birthday), napped and flew back to the urrrea. Spent that evening on Skype with my future. I love his sexy ass. *cheese*

Truth be told though- sometimes he be getting on my nerves. I know the reasoning is gonna sound silly, but hey, I’m me and it is what it is.

Here’s the gripe I have with relationships. I love being in them until about the 6 month mark. Because that’s when the newloveydoveysupersweetfuzzy feelings wear off. For the men in my situations at least. Is it wrong for me to want that newloveydoveysupersweetfuzzy feeling to last forever? I think it bothers me so much because when I fall in love with someone, I always have that newloveydoveysupersweetfuzzy feeling. It never wears off for me. Unless a nigga just don’t have any actright.

*scratching head*

Then again, the longest halfway healthy relationship I’ve ever been in only lasted about 8 months or so.

Anyway, my man is acting like the love’s going old. Not calling and texting like he used to. I know he’s not misbehaving, I just feel like I’m putting more of my heart into it than he is. I know he loves me. I just want him to be crazy about me like he used to be. Like, I want him to always feel that way. Because of this we get into stupid arguments which often end with me apologizing to him because this ideology of mine, I admit, is halfway crazy. All I can do is pull myself back to even the score. Thing is, I don’t want to. I never want to hold myself back when it comes to loving my other half. I thought I had found someone who loved the same way I did, but now I’m not so sure. And this poses a problem, because we’re supposed to get married in December. I’m not so sure I can marry someone who isn’t as wrapped on in me as I am in them. I’ll have to go into deep prayer on this one.

*sigh*

When it aint one thing its another.

Later Gators.

Xomuah!monie__♥

Unmotivation, Baby Fever.. eh...

I think I'm going through a point in my life where I'm just... I don't know. I feel unmotivated. And plain fuckin bored. There's so much I want to do that I'm not doing.

For instance, even with this blog. I've slacked off majorly, and I'm mad at myself for that. I wanted to turn this joint into a book by next year, but I dunno. Even now that I do have the time to write I haven't been. I want to publish one of my books or at least start a new one and complete it by next year, but I haven't gotten started.

I just feel stuck in a rut.

I blame the University of Maryland.

Since I've finished I'm just not motivated to write anything. I can't even stand opening a Microsoft Word document beccause I get flashbacks of 25 page papers.

It would be nice if I could have gone away for like 6 months after school finished.

Something's gotta give.

Even certain friendships. I haven't been keeping up with them, but that's mainly because folks got their own shit going on. So I've stayed to myself. Of course this poses a problem, because I'm always alone. I have no human stimulation outside of church on Sundays. My fiancee' doesn't live here , but we're always on the phone or Skype. Therefore, my phone bill is higher than Frankie and Lil Wayne put together.

My friends who do live in this city are always busy. My girls have all started families, and I haven't even seen Pop Pop since I moved down, which is shocking as hell. I guess he just outgrew me or something. *shrug*

Now I see why bitches' biological clocks be ticking. It is my theory that after a certain age people make babies because they get bored with life and want something to do. Dare I say it... having a baby doesn't sound like a bad idea to me these days.

Anywho, stay up ya'll.

I'll be back.

The Set Up: Nigerian Email Scam

Hey Ya'll!
(yup, i know. back to back posts!)

I just wanna vent about Spam blocker not doing its job.

Yesterday I received the following African fuckery in my inbox:

Subject: I HAVE REGISTERED YOUR CONSINGMENT WITH THE PARCEL EXPRESS COMPANY COURIER SERVICE / Call me: Tel: +234-802525-4563

*Monie lights herself two cigarettes and puts her Klonopin on the table. It might be one of those… times*

What in the Amistad?!?!?!!?!

Keep us free!!

My imagination ran wild, and this is what happened in my mind:

Monie: First, what the hell is a “conSINGment”? Second, the “Parcel Express Company Courier Service”—that joint needs an acronym. Too much is going on. And last, there’s no “+” sign on my phone, so I can’t even call to verify this shit.

Carry on ya'll…


Mr. Wilson:

Hello,

I have been waiting for you since to contact me for your Confirmable Bank cheque of (TWO MILLION UNITED STATE DOLLARS ) but I did not hear from you since for a couple of weeks now. Then I went to the bank to confirm if the draft has expired or getting near to the date of expire and Dr. Wilson the Director Bank of Africa told me that before the draft will get to your hand that it will expire.


(Just this once, I will ignore that hell of run on sentence)

*Lightbulb goes off in Monie’s head*

Monie: But it all makes mafuckin sense now!! This is where all the money Bank of America has been taking from me goes to!! To Africa!!

Look at 'im. It's a conspiracy. Imma tell ya'll what's really going on in this picture.

That smug mafucka is a Bank of America rep. He appears as if he's doing good by those babies, but I know the truth. He's a thief. Promising those kids my stolen two thousand united state dollars; filling them with promises of new cloths for their backs, toys, and food. These poor children. They have no idea he gives not a fuck. Kids, be warned! He will take it ALL; from the cloth on your back to the calluses on your feet!! Lawd jeezah!! You've been warned.

*Monie pops a Klonny-pin, pulls her wig off and sets it on her end table. Unbeknownst to Monie, Dinka with the help of Baby Bird Byron steal the wig and give it to the new woman in Dinka's life, Shantikafah.

She is thus pleased. *

I digress.

So yeah. A whole TWO MILLION UNITED STATE (no "s" ya'll) DOLLARS! This figure sounds like what they've taken from me over the years in overdraft fees. *shrug*

However, neither this Mr. Wilson (scroll down; that’s who this letter is from) or Dr. Wilson (hmm—wonder if they related?) has contacted me. I know I been tied up with school and moving and shit, but I would have remembered someone writing me about TWO MILLION UNITED STATE DOLLARS owed to me.

Carry on…


Mr. Wilson: So I told him to cash the (TWO MILLION UNITED STATE DOLLARS) to cash payment to avoid losing this funds under expiration as I will be out of the country for an 11 Months Course and I will not come back till Ending of SEPTEMBER. 2011.

Monie: Mr Wilson; you are ever so thoughtful. I sure hope you got all 20s and 50’s. And 1’s too. Those are my favorite.

The thing is, I don’t know if I own a bag that can even hold all that cash. And I’m a "walker" (a person who doesn’t drive or ride a bike) so I don’t know if I will be able to carry all that. Oh wait!! You did say that the PARCEL EXPRESS COMPANY COURIER SERVICE (or the PECCS as I would like to call it) is gonna deliver the shit. My fault. Look at me getting ahead of myself.

And if I may ask, where are you going for 11 months?? You planning on sticking it to me and then going to live it up on the beach somewhere no doubt.


Mr. Wilson: What you have to do now is to contact PARCEL EXPRESS COURIER SERVICES as soon as possible to know when they will deliver your Consignment to you because of the expiring date. For your information, I have paid for the delivering Charge, Insurance premium so contact;

Directors Name: MR. JOHN WILLIAMS
Company’s Name: PARCEL EXPRESS COURIER SERVICES
Email Address: (mrjohnw11000@vista.aero)
TELLPHONE: +234-802525 4563

Monie: Mr. Wilson—you hookin ya girl up! You paid for delivery and insurance. That’s whatsup.

*Blank Stare*

But I done told you, that I don’t have a “+” on my “tellphone”. How am I gonna get through to them to deliver this consignment? I guess I can always email him.

Mr. Wilson: The only money you will send to the PARCEL EXPRESS COURIER SERVICES to deliver your Consignment direct to your postal Address in your country is ($100USD) only being Security Keeping Fee of the Courier Company so far.

Again, don't be deceived by anybody to pay any other money except $100USD ONLY.

I would have paid that but they said no because they don't know when you will contact them and in case of demurrage. You have to contact the PARCEL EXPRESS COURIER SERVICES now for the delivery of your PARCEL with this information bellow;

1, Full Name:
2, Address of Residence:
3, country from:
4, Telephone Number:
5, Occupation...

Monie: I will try not to let anyone deceive me to pay anything other than the $100 USD. Do you have copies of the receipts showing you paid for insurance and delivery? Just in case they try to make me pay? Also, I’m confused, now. Is it “Parcel Express Company Courier Service or just Parcel Express Courier Service”? Anyway, thanks for letting me know you would have paid if you could. You’re very thoughtful, Mr. Wilson. Why didn’t you give them my info though? I mean, surely you have that. You’re privy to everything else…


Mr. Wilson: Finally, make sure that you reconfirm your Postal address and Direct telephone number to them again to avoid any mistake on the Delivery and ask them to give you the tracking number to enable you track your package over there, that will be after you paid the Security Keeping Fee and when it will get to your address. Let me repeat again, Try contact them as soon as you receive this mail and ask them how you will make the security fee of $100USD to them to avoid any further delay and remember to pay them their Security Keeping fee of $100USD for their immediate action.

Monie: I dunno about this Mr. Wilson… I smell a setup. You know I live in DC, like 4 blocks from the White House… and they have a way of finding out everything. Them some bad muthas if you didn’t know. I mean, President Obama seems really, really nice— it’s them other hos in the Cabinet that I don’t trust.


**takes hard puff of cigarette**

I just don’t wanna do nothing to mess up the (second ) start of my grown woman life. I fucked up the first one pretty badly, and now I have no couch, no bed, microwave, or electric tea kettle… and crack wasn't even involved!!

But that’s a whole nother story.

So yeah, no matter how much that TWO MILLION UNITED STATE DOLLARS sounds, I like the happy state of mind that I’m in (most of the time) now.

Mr. Wilson: Note this. The PARCEL EXPRESS COURIER SERVICES don't know the contents of the Box.
I registered it as a BOX of Africa cloths. They did not know the content was money? Only Dr. John knew this as confidential agreement between me and him because he advice me so, this is to avoid them delaying with the BOX. Don’t let them Know that the box content is money okay.

Monie: Mr. Wilson, you sneaky dog!! Both you and Dr. Wilson!! But why are you asking me “they did not know the content was money?” Did they, or is that just a typo. Mr. Wilson, I don’t want no trouble, you hear me?? NO TROUBLE!! I won’t let them or anyone know the box content is money. Just ordinary... African... CLOTHS.

It can be like , our little secret.

Mr. Wilson: You are to make the payment of $100 Dollars in the name of the PARCEL accountant officer (MR DABO STEVEN) for the security payment/keeping fee of your package with this payment details below:

Receiver Name: MR DABO STEVEN
Receiver Address: NO.32 GROVERS CRESCENT, ABUJA NIGERIA
Sender's Name: Your Name
Sender's Address:
Amount To be Sent: $100 usd
Text Question to be used: HOW ARE YOU
Text Answer: FINE
M.T.C.N. ( Ten Digit Number )

Monie: So is Mr. Dabo Steven in on the take as well? Or did he already get his portion of the money? Cause I’m gonna count this here currency and if it doesn’t add up to TWO MILLION UNITED STATE DOLLARS Imma have some questions for you and Mr. Steven.
Bad gyal don't fear. * snarl*

I will make note not to put a question mark after the text question “how are you”. I am not trying to cause further delay with this BOX.

Mr. Wilson: Make sure you send to me the payment information, which was given to you via Western Union or Money Gram.

Monie: I didn't get anything form Western Union or Money gram. Please resend. I'll more than likely use Western Union, since I’m a Western Union PRO.
*brushing dirt off shoulders*
No problem!

Mr. Wilson:You are advice to send the money today so as to avoid any delay from delivery your package to your door step. Package arrives to your doorstep in 48hrs.

Monie: Oh wow, only 48 hours…. coming from Nigeria??? You can pretty much send a BOX at light speed now I guess. That don’t sound right, Mr. Wilson.

Mr. Wilson: As soon as you make the payment of Security Keeping fee of $100USD ask them to give you your tracking number, for proper verification to avoid mistake.

This is the Couier Company website: pescnig.net

And you can call me Agent for more info +234-802525-4563

Yours Faithfully,
MR. SCOTT WILLIAMS

Monie: Um, Agent? Hold the fuck up.

I definitely need some more info. I looked at the website, and saw a mafuckin horse with a PARCEL on its back. Like some real Pony Express type shit was going on, on that website.

And if that’s the way you’re sending my TWO MILLION UNITED STATE DOLLARS, I'd rather we go about this in some other way. I’m quite sure it’s not gonna get here in 48 hours. Additionally, this can't be safe. No matter how much insurance you put on it.
I'm sure the horse is gonna get hungry on its way here from Nigeria. And I'm not sure whether they send the horse with food or not, but I'm not tryna fuck around with a hungry horse and have him eat my TWO MILLION UNITED STATE DOLLARS.

No, no, NO!! Especially after I paid my hard earned (ok, so it's Financial Aid) $100 dollars down!

Please email me in regards to the questions that I have. You can call me at 301______. Please do not put a “+” in front of my number, or you won’t be able to contact me.

Thanks.

Frightfully,

Monie

*sigh*

Dear God, it's me, Monie...
i can't.

Don't Buss Yo Pussy Open for Niggas That Run In the Same Circle-- A Club Story

Hey Muffins!

Hope all is well with everyone out there in Blogland. As things are winding down to my departure date from NY, I've been going out in hopes of having fun.

*rolls eyes*

Can somebody please tell me where the eff is all the fun to be had in this city that is NY?? Very rarely have I gone out and had fun (unless I was shitfaced drunk).

K dragged me out to Quo (formerly Prime, formerly whatever else, cause these mafuckas switch up names so much I can't even keep count) again this week in hopes to find her ex-jump off to make him jealous. We saw him there last week and he dissed her.

*Monie sighs, lights up a cigarette, and puts her feet up on the Ottoman*

Let me just say this. Ladies, if your pop off plays you; just take it in stride and keep it moving. Don't get it in your mind that you are his woman and try making him jealous. He gives not a fuck, and neither should you.

We'll press on this topic later though.

*raised eyebrows*

I digress...

Sooo, for one, last night was damned brisk. And it was raining. I didn't anticipate standing on line since we went with the promoters, but apparently, promoters truly ain't shit anymore because even they can't get anyone in the club. We got there 10-ish (which as most of you know is mad early for NY nightlife) so we were able to beat the $30 club charge. Since when did women have to pay over $20 anywhere??

That recession is still rockin out hard, huh?

So. Me and K are there along with some other Chucky Cheese hos

the promoters brought along with them. Like, no lie. They were 20 and 21. The 20 year old had to pay the bouncer to let her in. Now, ain't nothing wrong with young hos; cause afterall, once upon a time I was a young ho.

However...these dudes are like 25 and up. Why the hell they rocking out with babies, I don't know. And they weren't even cute babies. :(

One of them seriously needed to be swaddled in a fleece blanket and taken back to her crib.

The child had on a pleather jacket that criscrossed so her entire chest was out, some tight black sweater dress and kitten heels. Her hair was a hot atrocity both before the rain and after. This bitch had no umbrella, no hood, not even a plastic shower cap. We stood on that line for about half hour. By the time we got in she was soaked. K felt so bad for her she bought her a shot of Patron to warm her up. Lawd, I pray she don't catch pneumonia.

Now, I call myself not drinking anymore, but I needed to warm up too, so I had 2 shots of Patron. Which did absolutely nothing. Not even a buzz. :(

Anywho, the Romper Room hos go off and do their thing, and we go meet up with the promoters after we leave the bar. These wack ass niggas are all sitting around in the VIP section, on their Blackberries, doing and saying absolutely nothing.

So I whipped out my Blackberry and headed over to that nice, warm place that always makes me feel so...fuzzy inside. Yup:

*rolls eyes*

Mannnnn....when you have to be on Facebook in the clubhouse you know it's bad!

So, I'm on there; K's dancing around on the prowl for ex jumpsy, but spots this other dude she thought was cute.

Now, I will admit I thought he was cute... til she pointed out he had gold toofisis.

*pause for the mafuckin' cause*

Why is a grown ass man (30 years old!) rocking gold toofisis?? Can somebody explain this to me. I've always thought the shits were plain nasty, but come on! After that, I was and still am against him. :(

So when he goes off she gives me the run down on him. He's 30; friends with the promoters (they --along with the ex-jumpsy mind you--all grew up in the same neighborhood, but he recently moved); he's a C.O.


And then she's like how she's "going to have him wrapped around her finger"; how "she's gonna lock him down cause he has benefits"

*Monie pauses, lights another cigarette, and accidentally sets the end of her lacefront wig on fire.She stops. Drops. And rolls.*



I can't... bitch done made me mess up my good wig out'chea!!

I love my girl. Truly. We go all the way back to My Little Pony and Skip It days, but she is damn oblivious when it comes to men.



For one; please don't think you're doing a good thing trying to lock some man down because he has benefits. The only way this benefits you is if he puts a ring on it. Only then are you entitled to half of anything. If you do get pregnant, trust and believe there still ain't much "benefits" when you try to stick child support on that ass. The court ain't all that nice. They too realize you ain't the wife.

You
WON'T
get
half.

(I'm putting that on a tshirt)

So anyway.

Nothing exciting really happened in the club. Around 2 am the Promotion Team finally bought a mafuckin bottle of Goose, and while I don't really care for Goosey anymore, I figured that a lil bit would help me loosen up and not give a fuck that the DJ couldn't play worth a damn. I had a glass straight, and while I felt that woozy-pussy-popping feeling I used to live for when I drank...nothing. I finally just sat my ass down and got on Facebook til the night was over. At 4:30 am. So that means we spent approximately 6 hours in the club. *smdh*

Of course while we're in the car K is going on and on about the new nigga. Let's just name him. We'll call him Goldie Redbone , or "Goldie Red" for short since that describes him to a Tee.

I can already sense this may get messy:

See, K used to mess with J; the boy she was crazy about last January (Go'n and click that there); and J's roomate H (one of the promoters) hangs out with Goldie Red. Now, H used to be over there all the time when K and J were slaying it out, and probably knows K buss her pussy open for J on the first night she met him after the club. Now H., Goldie Redbone, and the rest of the promoters drove in the same car. Anddd as I mentioned before; they all know Ex Popoff.

I wouldn't be surprised if H told Goldie Red about K and J because on the ride home Goldie Red calls up and K and says he wants to see her later on that night. Hmph.

Monday afternoon this crazy girl BBMs me talking about he came by her job, and how he's really sexy (I still beg to differ, but if she like it, i LOVE it) and he has these piercing eyes, and it's going to be so hard to resist him.

*Blank damn stare*

I laid it on her straight and told her she better not hit that til March because niggas talk more than bitches *shrug* and somebody probably told him in that car that you ain't hard to smash out. So she's like, "True. I know. I'm going to wait. I don't know if I can though"
I told her try a new thing, and get new results.

So we shall see.


Don't get me wrong; I ain't judging her. None of this is anything I haven't said to her face. And besides, who am I to even judge; looking at my own track record with niggas. Ha! The good thing is, I've done most of my (not much) dirt abroad so I don't have to worry about this ex running into that one :)


And that's all for right now. I'm about to go wash my own hair with my broke ass, cause I'm flying out to DC this evening. Aowzah!!

Ain't nothin going on...

Man, I love Jamaica. Even though I'm already pretty much broke. Nothing exciting has happened yet except for one argument with #4. Basically, he got upset because I went clubbing with my cousin, and doesn't like me/us being on the road so late. According to him the only people catching taxis at 1 in the morning are prostitutes. Which very well may be true because my cousin and I got propositioned. Some random dude saw us and yelled out "Business!!" which basically is asking if you're working your pussyhole. *blank damn stare*

Saturday, Cuzzy and I hit Jungle and Scrubadubs and had a blast. Next day I saw my sisters and 2 of my nieces and nephews. That evening #4 and I went for pizza with his housemates who have the cutest little daughter. She speaks nothing but Italian and Jamaican cusswords. After that we came home and #4 and i had it out. He caught me in a lie, because I lied and said we took a taxi home from the club and he told me he saw us come out the car with the dudes. So I fessed up, and told him it didn't matter because he's lied to me many a time and he also be fuckin other chicks and I know from reading his email . We argued for like 4 hours, agreed to disagree and then frolicked in bed for another 2 hours. ;)

Yesterday I was sick as fuck; spent the whole day in bed. I f #4 didn't come home til like 2, and then went back out for cold meds and such. I feel a bit better today.

I wish these people would stop looking at me like I got mafuckin swine flu. Cause I'm about to hit someone with this snotty rag. :/

That's all for now. Catch ya'll later!

Later babies!!

Cause sometimes shit just needs to be said...

Just keepin it funky...

1. I want people to stop telling lies on condoms. They're great, and they work. You didn't use them and now you running around with devil spawn ass kids, lying saying the shit broke. You lie. You lie, damn you!!

2. It's ok to laugh at church. My family and I do it all the time. We making a joyful noise...get off our backs!

3. Some folks need their entire closet rebuked. We all have the one or two bammafied pics in our facebook photo albums ...however... this one chick who is linked to one of my friends, is consistently fucking up all the time.

Certain shit just don't go together. It's like when I wear my pink Frogs (fake Crocs) to the supermarket with my good jeans and cute jacket. I'm fuckin up..but I'm not turning the shit into a Kodak moment. Do better.

4. It's alright to schedule penis around hair appointments. It really is. Spontaneity is cool and all that, but fucking up your $90 of hair investment. Is not alright.

*loosening up bra strap*

5. Don't claim to be a "five star chick" if you're rocking fake Louis bags, kitten heels (Michelle Obama is the only diva allowed to wear kitten heels, i said it), with jeans, and beauty supply store weave in the club. You're just not. I said it. Bombs have been dropped, bitches, get mad.

6. To the dudes who complain about their girlfriends/wives wearing the head scarves and sweatpants in the house... nigga you don't look so great in the house neither. Your basketball shorts and Adidas shower shoes with socks aint making my coochie wet. Fuck outta here!!!

7. To all you hos that have no education, but brag on your looks/pussy. No one is impressed. Not a one. He'll fuck you but he will marry someone less cute with more education.

8. Men, same for you. Bring more than a hard dick to the table. We'll still fuck you, but you won't be coming to the office party. *shrug*

9. R. Kelly can piss on 8 more broads and wear as many purple sneakers and scarves as his heart so desires. I still fucks with him.

"Gracias baby, da me loooooooooo!"

10. Spread love. That's what a real thug do. (Sorry, I couldn't think of anything else).

Deuce here!
-Monie

(I will have a better entry coming soon. Or atleast I will try. School is kicking my ass)

Besos!

Conspiracies and shit...

As tired as I am, I feel the need to express myself. Bam, no intro; just read it raw with no vaseline.


Take dat, take dat, bad boys. :/

The following fucked up randoms and conspiricies have crossed my mind lately:

1. The Dream looks like Hamburglar.




2. Flava Flav is Gucci Mane's father. You can't say shit to convince me otherwise.


3. Nuvo aint nothing but Ripple 2009. Lmao @ all ya'll hoodboogas posing drinking it up in the clubhouse.



Designed to destroy all ya'll. Cause I don't drink that shit.

4. An ugly nigga is never worth your time. Or your vagina. You will live to regret it.

5. Neither is one who doesn't take trips to the dentist. You know the type. Teeth look like Reptar from Rugrats.

If he can't take care of his teeth, he can't take care of you.

6. Mario better have some health-related reason as to why he's running around with his head looking like that.


7. Univ. of MD was created to wreck my social life and leave me lonely. Fuck ya'll. I haven't been able to hold a decent conversation with anyone since the beginning of this year.

8. I'm falling asleep ya'll. But the fucked up part is as soon as I hit the bed and turn the lights out, Imma be wide awake like a Bronx crackhead at 5:17 in the morning.


9. Mc Donald's and BET have been conspiring with each other on how they can bring us down as a people.


As a future marketer, I hope I never have to add to the fuckery.
But if I were a total idiot I'd do the following.
Picture it:
*in my Ad exec voice*

Juice Man, Gucci Mane ...dancing! ....I'm thinking jingle... something like....

"Quarter Pounder with cheese/Pickles, onions hey!/ One Dollar Sweet Tea/Apple Pie/Yay!"

Then I'd watch sales go through the roof :(

10. I am going to bed. Because clearly all this work and lack of sleep is making me crazy.

Later All!!
monie ♥

Groupie Sex Tale: MAVADO & the Two Hundred Dollar Ho

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Vacay Trollopfication and Bust It Baby Bags

JA trip is going good so far. Lots of rain so not as much beach time. Still have yet to do my jet skiing though :(

And sooo...

Thursday we hit this club called Jungle, Boyfriend #4 and I. We had much fun, like we usually do when we go anywhere. After the club, we went to the spot.

Ya'll know we got it in. We went back to the same mosquito factory we went to the first time we got it in because this other cutesy spot we wanted to go to had no rooms. :(

Maybe tonight if I'm lucky?
Hehehe

Anywho, we get up in there, and Boyfriend #4 does some shit I absolutely hate.

He turns on the tv.

Ughhhh!!!

One of my biggest pet peeves is when you know you're about to fuck, and a dude either starts with the incessant talking or they turn on the tv. Now Boyfriend #4 knows I hate this, so he calls himself compromising by throwing a sheet over the tv.

Um, no.

Mind you, since not too many channels worked on the bullshit satellite tv, it was set to Chinese news in English.

That shit ain't sexy!!

I really wasn't in the mood for arguing, so I went into the bathroom, undressed and came back to the bed.

We gets to laying it down, kissing and all that, and then something really stupid was uttered by Boyfriend #4 about him wanting to "breed me" and when were we going to have a baby.

Where my imaginary pet donkey at?

*Pet Donkey steps out into the light and brays*

Hee haw, hee haw, nigga, hell naw!

Me: I don't think so.

Him: Why?

Me: I can give you a million reasons. One, I need to get my career in order, my schooling finished, and a whole lot of other shit. And you need to get yourself in order too. PUT ON THAT CONDOM.

I'm glad he took heed and didn't push.

I am also glad to inform you I bought my own Magnums with me, and I am glad I did, because you know why?

*Audience chimes in:*

Why Monie??

Monie pulls out a box of Durex condoms and stomps the dogshit out of the box

Audience gasps in horror

Monie: Because Boyfriend #4 is yet another big dick nigga using Durex condoms.

*Audience boos*

Exactly. We got into a mini-bickering about it, and in the end we were both happy because my 3 Magnums were used, along with his 2 Durex (sue me, I got desperate) and Boyfriend #4 put in some work that made me wanna pull a Beyonce and buy a nigga a shorts set.

If Pochahontas could smile, I think that bitch would be grinning... even right now.

Later down in that morning all we wanted to do was stay in bed, chill, and commence to some more serious fuckin'. We didn't have anymore condoms, so he got up and got us breakfast, some weed for himself, and some condoms, and something that made me like him a little bit more.

He bought me a comb, ya'll.

*swoons*

LOL

Now granted it was a comb I aint seen since my little girl days at Grandma's house back in '91...



But I'm a sucker for thoughtful shit, even if it doesn't necessarily much.

Unfortunately, I got caught out there without my Buss It Baby bag. Let me explain the Buss It Baby Bag to ya'll.

Ladies pull up a chair, and listen keenly:

Sometimes we get caught out there, wanting to have spontaneous sexual relations and we end up at the spot, coming home after day breaks looking like a hot shitastrophic mess, all because we didn't have our Bust It Baby Bag. This used to happen to me all the time when I lived in DC after taking on Iberian Lynx, and coming home looking like I did infact escape from the Jungle. You know what I'm talkin' bout-- having to go home in day old clothes , and having to rock one of his hats that didn't match what I wore, consequently making me look real bamma-like. Took me a while to catch on, but eventually I did.

I digress... so yes... the Bust It Baby bag doesn't have to be big. You can fit the essentials in a small cosmetic purse that can be squeezed into your club bag. If you have a nice sized purse, this works out even better, because you can put together a Bust It Baby Bag Plus and fit a tshirt or wife B in there.

Bust it Baby bag should have:

travel sized toothbrush and tooth paste

1 panty

comb and ponytail holder

Always Wipes

Condoms (he love you cause you got your own)

your MAC finishing powder

plastic shower cap

1 ziplock bag to put the night before's panties inside

Bust It Baby Bag Plus should include all of the above and:

a pair of flats/flip flops (depending on the season)

spandex

t shirt/ wife b

plastic bag for your dirty clothes

and anything else you think you might need that you can squeeze in there. Now you know. If this is ever a topic on Family Fued, you got this, son!


Ps- Bust It Baby Bag Plus is also for the big gals or the gals like myself obsessed w/ having all her fat lay down flat that rock girdles. Speaking of girldles , Sometimes them hos are not a friend. I will blog about this later though.

I digress.

So...the other morning I was kicking myself for not having my Buss It Baby Essentials. I had my wipes and condoms, but no comb, no clean drawls.

I felt quite skeevy after showering and having to put back on my club clothes which were a damn mess. I wore a white top that night and my makeup transferred all on the collar. I had to put back on my 5 inch heels and spandex. Now picture me trying to get back to my hotel at 3 in the afternoon. And yes, the hotel guards mistook me for a prostitute because they couldn't see my ID band under my bracelets. I practically ran to my room for another shower, and to brush my teeth, wash my hair and get clean.

Ugh.

See, how there's always some shit that pops off when I'm tryna be a trollop? I am convinced, I am not supposed to be having sex. I wish I didn't enjoy it so much.

Alright Kiddos, bout to run off to dinner. I'll be back w/ more updates!

xoxomonie!

Fuck Off!! Random Hate Mail

*Monie lifts her hands to the sky, and mouths to God “Why?”*

*God shrugs and mouths back “Why not? I love you, now go make your misery someone else’s laughter*

*Mo nods*
And so...

Dear Dr. D___,

I know you see vagina all day, so it aint nothing new to you. However, I’m kinda private about mine. Was it really necessary for your student assistant to be in there while you were doing my Pap smear? I’ve never had an audience before, and to be quite frank, I didn’t like that shit. I do appreciate your thoroughness though. When you asked if any of my other doctors ever told me I had “bulging eyes”, demanded that I swallow , and went on to say that you were going to test my thyroid for Graves disease I didn’t know how to take it.** Something tells me you doing me wrong like this because I have HIP Medicaid. Second class citizen, I am not. Neither is my vagina.

I still feel some kind of way. Next time, lets handle the shit one-on-one. And if you could give me the birth control I requested, that'd be kinda nice too. Thanks Dr. D___, for making my week. :(

Dear BET,

Ya’ll need to do better. Like, really need to do better. This “Played by Fame” business, that “Welcome to Dreamland” shitastrophe-- pure fuckery. Why couldn’t ya’ll pick up The Game from CW? Or give Uncle Jeff a show; one that displays that Black folks have sense? I don't appreciate seeing this type of coonery on what is supposed to be "Black Entertainment Television". When you create shitty shows like this, it sets us back . My calculations say 25 years per shitty show. Let's add it up:

Played by Fame: 25
Hell Date: 25
Welcome to Dreamland: 25
Keyshia Cole: The Way It Is (as much as I hate to say it): 100 years [50 for Neffe, 50 for Frankie]
That's 175 years. Do you know what that means?

The touch, the feel of cotton is more than the fabric of our lives.
Think about it. Again. Do better.

( Thank God for Harlem Heights. It's the one program that doesn't scream "Sambo")
Ps- stop running Menace II Society, State Property II, ATL, and Diary of a Mad Black Woman. I done had it up to here.

Dear Forever 21,

You cuntywhores, you!! I hate your exchange policy. Your accessories and bags ain’t shit. Do you know how embarrassing it is to have your handbag fall off your arm in the streets…when it was the first time you’ve ever even rocked it? Then you tell me you can’t refund me because “it’s against store policy??” Go suck your mother!! When I bought the piece-of-shit bag I was under the impression that it would add a bit of joy to my life and oomph to my wardrobe, but I was wrong. I rebuke you, Forever 21.

Dear Dan @ Associates Visa,
I hope you wake up tomorrow with morning wood and piss in your own face. Why would you give me a shitty ass deal, offering to lower my interest rate, and “forget” to disclose that if I accepted I’d be incurring late fees and over the limit fees? Why, Dan? That’s fucked up. I’ll be calling back again tomorrow w/ my “lawyers” on the line. And a refund to my bank account is so in order. Go suck your grandmother through a straw, Dan.

Dear Jerimih,

Or whatever your damn name is. Your song sucks. I wouldn't even wipe my behind with these lyrics if they were set on toilet paper!
Allow me to quote your simple ass:

“It’s your birthday and I know you want to ride out Even if its only to my house”
…oh wait, even better:
“I might just sweep you off your feet And make you wanna tell somebody (body, how I do) somebody body how i do

Pause- I’d be ashamed to tell anyone. I'd have to take Miss Ciely's Paw-Not-Paw's advice:
"You be't not tell nobody but God!
Carry on...

Or maybe we can float on top my water bed

(Pause again- people still have waterbeds? Smh…mmnh, carry on, Jeremih)

you close your eyes as I pry between your legs
We work our way from kitchen stoves, and tables
Girl you know I'm more than able to please, yeah
Say you wanted flowers on the bed (on the bed)
But you got me and now it's on again

* Mo runs over to her imaginary window, pulls the blinds off, and throws them on the ground out of disgust *

Cease, Jermih, you simple simon ass mafucka, cease!!!!

Bitch ass nigga: PUH-LEASE! You deserve an open-handed slap to your mouth; one so great you’ll never sing another set of lyrics like this again. This song is a disgrace to R&B.

James Brown's curl activator is probably drying up in his grave because of you.

Retire, ho. Right now.

Gosh! I feel so much better.

Now I’m about to head on to my slumber. I can rest well now that I’ve gotten all this off my chest.

BESOSBABIES!!

i'd fuck 'im and other random shit

"i'm too live, nasty as i wanna be"- jay z

well dammit, me too Jigga.


i'd fuck:


Willie Day 26




Hose me down, Daddy! I watched that "I'm gon put it on her" video yesterday, and Willie looked gooder than a hot Toll House cookie with a side of milk and a napkin!!
Willie could get it butt nekkid on a sack cloth in a barn yard.
He makes you just wanna bathe in some Petite Nate and spread eagle!

(Yeah, my fellow 80s babies remember Petite Nate, the bath time groove, lls)

*this is Jean Nate. apparently Petite, Jean's baby cousin done got discontinued*


anywho...

additionally, i'd fuck (in no particular order):


nate parker pride, great debators




he got that big ass nose, but his teeth are gawgeous! And. He got a phatty. I saw it in Pride, and there it was again while I watched the Great Debators. He got one of those nice asses that sits on high, and don't drop too low. You see his joint, and wanna do a pelvic thrust; cause you imagine how good it would feel to hold it in the palms of your hand while he's on top of you.

kevin phillips also apart of the cast of Pride, Notorious

he looks like he could be related to willie. he got that thickness to him that i like. and it look like he packing something. tilt your head, and lean in close. Look at it! Look at that bulge!!


and on the old nigga side; also from the cast of Pride (yo, what's wrong with me!?),

terrence howard



Why? He just looks nasty; the cat-eyed mafucka. He's got that "I'm an asshole" thing going, which I'm very attracted to.
*shrug*
No wonder I'm in the state that I'm in.


So I guess it's a wonderful thing I was not in film production for the movie Pride--- else it woulda been a whole lotta fuckin' and suckin' going on. Bwahahaaaa!! Ahem!!


Moving along...


pimpin' IS easy


word to shaft, as the girl Lil Kim would say, Old Head called asking to be in my stable. not in these words of course, but he knows the deal.

i got a phone call from him this morning asking which number he was. I told him I hadn't placed him with a number because we don't mess, and he has a girlfriend.

he laughed about the fact she was downstairs as he was calling me (trifling), telling me that he's been thinking about what life would be like if he had made it official with me.

*yawn*

I told him he'd never know now. He tells me he wants a number, so I let him know everyone starts off at 5.

Presto! I got #5. when I make my way to DC in July I know I'll be on the receiving end of some HGR (head game ridiculous) from him. He's really great at it; like he's been practicing since birth. this is no big win, as he is an old ho (literally and figuratively).


We shall all celebrate when I reel in some fresh fish, ok?

and then...

i did some type-foul shit


i called up my ex for the trife ass stunt he pulled while in jamaica, and he's still on some pussy-ass nigga shit a month later; acting like he didn't hear me on the phone. this pissed me the fuck off. no lie, the anger i felt was trance-like.


so i text him the following:


u a coward. keep pretending you cant hear when i call. your job is gonna love to hear what i got to say and read what i got to write. it's your turn to be the fool.


i figured i'd fuck with his livlihood. am i going to call and make false complaints/email with harassment shit? maybe not. depends on whether i have time after all my school work and extracurricular shit is done.


naw, honestly, i don't think i will. despite everything, i try to live right. i try to do right, as i consider myself one of God's inperfect children. however, if you knew my history with him--- you'd tell me to go for it. i mean, i knew he'd give me some bullshit ass excuse, but i wanted to be able to refute it w/ lots of "muthafuckas", "bitch ass nigga's" and "you-aint-shits".....just to make me feel like we settled the score, knaamean? besides-- i'm too lazy (and broke) for the type of effort that would take.

Lord, please forgive me. I shouldn't have done it. Help me to stop seeking get-back and just leave his idiot behind alone. Amen.


that's all. i just wanted to express how i was feeling today. confess my sins, ya know? iwuvsyouguys!


besos ninos!
xoxomonie!