Livin' the Dry Life

Bloggymuffins! How art thou?!

First, I'd like to thank all of you who have been following, both new and old, leaving comments and all of that. I read each and every one, but I'm barely able to respond these days. After I finish a day's work on the computer I can't even bear to look at Blogger or any other site. Ok, I lie. I lay in bed and facebook it up. It's pretty much the only contact I have w/my old friends back in MD and other parts of NY. Good news though. My Blackberry Tour comes today, so I'll be on here more. Yay!

But yeah, it means a lot to me to know that ya'll get a tickle and a tee-hee out of my wierd-ness. Also, I'm going to see if I can archive my entries as someone asked. Thx for all your comments girlie! :)

On the personal side:
DRIER THAN GUCCI MANE'S LIPS ON A COLD, ALASKAN DAY.

Brrrr!

I wish this mafucka would find a cocobutter cure, or something.


Yea.. not much going on over here. Now that K is trying to launch her business into a full service salon, we don't get into too much fuckery these days. Plus, now that I don't drink I find myself questioning the types of live fuckery before my eyes in the clubhouse.

Like-- I went on Sunday with my sister and her friend to this joint in Brooklyn:


*breathing in, i am breathing in...*

Now, I hadn't been to Caribbean City in like, over 5 years. All's I knew was that Bobby Konders & Jabba still played there on a Sunday. Bobby & Jabba usually do their thing so I reasoned with myself that although this was not Manhattan, and many of the mafuckas up in there were bound to be sub par... I'mma go head and go. Just for the sake of my sister; since she hasn't been out much since she had the baby.

We leave out after midnight and I arrive at Caribbean City around 2. The line is short, which is good, as it was colder than a prostitute's titty in the winter time.

The security search is borderline molestation, and something comparable to airport search. Yes. The make you put your purse in a basket; they go through it thoroughly and then hand it back for you to put everything back in order.

So...I'm getting ready to make my way inside when the coat check nigga demands I take off my cute little faux-leather jacket.
Nawwww, nigga, fuck you.

I ain't putting my batwings on display for nobody!

So yeah, I told him I didn't think so, made a motion of hands over my body and told him it was part of my outfit. He backed off and let me go inside...

and inside looked like...like.... Shanquantifon's basement bash.
Wtf. I had heard there were renovations in there, and it looked 10x shittier than it did before.

Disastrous, ya'll hear me??!! And the people in there knew nothing about clothes and matching them for the seasons.

• I saw hos in flip flops
• Hos in sling back sandals
• One bitch had on her Club Socks... you know, the chicks that are like "I have these corns and know I have no damn bid'ness wearing these pumps, so I'mma just take 'em off, hold 'em in my hand, and lounge in my barely there dress and some ankle socks"
• One bitch had on some lumberjack arm warmers and knee high houndstooth socks.

and the #1 sin for the night: big woman, like atleast a size 24 wearing a halter top and skirt, NO BRA, tittyballs just'a hanging down low like whoa. TWO DIFFERENT COLOR(blonde and black) AND DIFFERENT TEXTURE WEAVE... and dudes were putting it on her like she was hotness.

*breathing out, i am breathing out...*

I have sworn off clubs (again). I would love to have like, weekly game nights, but some of the folks I know here in NY-- I wonder if they really even know how to read. I damn near need the Rosetta Stone just to decipher their text messages/fb statuses.

Seriously. I went to school with some real Leap Frog Learn To Read type bitches.


For instance, I saw the following status update from a high school chum:

hey fb, i'm so board the hubby wen t to play basketball and the little one is gone for the hole week my aunt wanted to spend some time wit her but i miss her already smh...


No, no, bitch, I am shaking my head.

Yeah... I'm supposed to play Scrabble and Tabu, etc, with folks like that?? I don't think so. I have a better chance playing a game of Spades with my 2 year old nephew, my cat Dinka and my imaginary baby chicken, Byron. I think not.

What else, what else...

Oh yeah. Sex life is sketchy too.

D/m is actually pretty busy and I understand why now. Like I said, I have been trying my best to have actual conversations with him. He's working on getting a degree in Occupational Therapy, not a Masters in Finance like I thought. So he's got to study like crazy. He started explaining to me what he was actually studying for, but that damn logorrhea problem he has became so overwhelming I just asked to see one of his textbooks.

I was impressed. He basically has to learn a whole bunch of doctor-type stuff without having a background in science, so he's got to work double hard.

So between both of us working on bettering ourselves education-wise... there's not much time for relations the way we like to have relations. The last time I got the business from him, we went in for two rounds and I didn't get in until after 4 am. The next day I received all types of hate texts from him complaining about being tired at work. I figure we were even since I had to get up and perform Dr. Miracle type wonders on my hair to head into Manhattan.

*shrug*


So yeah, as you guys can see...life's good, cause I'm alive..but it is, as my Cali folks would say, "hella" boring.
And that's all... Lator Gators!

D- Day... Maybe, maybe not?

*Monie dances around to Betty Wright's "Tonight is the Night" in her unmatching bra and panties; using Feminine Deoderant Spray as a microphone, she sangs as loudly as she can*

Tonight is the ni-iight/ that you/ make me a womannn...

*Pull the needle back on the record!*

So after deliberating with myself (and K) I'm leaning towards not smashing the drunken munchkin (D/m) for the following reasons:

• he be drunk-- but he shares his liquor w/ me, so i be drunk too; thus negating this reasoning
• he probably still has a girlfriend
• he talks too much
• i need fresh meat (no pun intended) in my stable
• and as per K, "no! no! NO!!"
  

Now as for reasons why i should smash D/m:

• he's a filthy trollop that does all types of nasty shit... shit that i need at this juncture of my life
• it's G.G.D. ; which is quite hard to come by
• Boyfriend #4 is off doing his thing-- my intuition is screaming that he is, not to mention he's not answering the phone as per our routine
• i'm horny as fuck
• this is the week before i get my hair permed, so if he messes it up (which he will), i really don't care

Ah... decisions, decisions...

Boyfriend #5 maybe?

I could always scout out the talent in this dude I went to school w/ who's diggin' me. However, our communication has been relegated to facebook notes only. We've exchanged numbers, and he told me
to call. I don't call men though. Or anyone really for that matter.

*shrug*

I just sent him a text. nice and simple:

You've been scarce on the Facebook. How ya been? ;)

This should be enough.

ooh! i guess it was. he text back. i won't type it all, but a date is in the making. ah, the thrill of a potential in my stable.

You thought DC Metro Area Had Bammas-- Go to Brooklyn

K and I hit this sports bar/ club spot last night...all i can say is, what a waste of a freakum dress, and pain in my left foot from my Jessica Simpson 5 inch heels. Ugh!

Bamma ass hos
Bamma ass niggas
One midget grabbing chicks and winding and pumping on them.

Like, no disrespect to the midgets, but how you gonna try to pump on someone's booty and you barely reach behind their knees?

i aint never been turned on by someone pumping their dick on the back of my knees. Actually, I dont' think its ever been done to me. And I'm quite sure I am not missing out on the "thrill".

• Men who hesitate to tell me their names, and then admit its because they "don't like to give out their government"-- you're wack, and probably married. step off.
• And bottle service brought to you in a chicken bucket... is never good.
  
  Tonight we're supposed to be going to Prime, which is in Manhattan. If I don't go; ya'll know what went down ;)
  
  later gators!
  moniexoxo
  
  

Bitch, Get Yo Toenails Fixed and The FunkNasty Mc Fish

Bitch, Get Yo Toenails Fixed-- a Horror Story

(linguistically, this post is going to be a bit hood... certain situations call for heavy slang, yaheardme?!)

so, i went all the way to brooklyn on monday and got my feet did, and my eyebrows waxed, because they be having my shit properrr. even when i lived in MD/DC area, I'd fly home every other month and get my work done, so you know they gots to be official.

now this place is on some Home Depot shit for real. and it's so funny how they're so nonchalant about bussin' out such heavy artillery, like these aren't tools used for building a house. they do all kinds of stuff i've never seen before until i started going there, like using that drill they use on acrylics on people's toenails.

and the heavy-duty Shanehneh sander joint (I know ya'll remember that episode of Martin) on the bottoms of your feet.

I give them a nice, polite, "hells no" when they come trying to use that drill on my toesies, but I do take a nice little helping to the sander on my heels, especially during the winter time. And I'm always pleased by how soft they are.

So here's when things start getting triffling. This woman is on my right getting a pedicure and my sister is on my left getting her dogs done too. All of a sudden, I see one of the Asian Toe Masters (ATM)whip out the acrylic drill. I'm nosey, because I wanna see who really needs their toenails buzzed down with this damn acrylic drill. The woman puts her bear-claw-ass foot up...

and she has the nastiest, blackest, thickest, crustiest big-toe toenails I've ever seen in my life.

Scuzay-moi as I try to push the vomit in my throat back down and go off on a tangent:

I am so mad at that woman, not just for what happens next in this story, but for not buying some damn Lamisil. Clearly if your toenails are like that, its a damn problem. I could forgive some corns and calluses, even a bunion, but a rotten ass toenail... that you're letting get drilled down with an acrylic drill... sit the f/ck down! right now!!

I digress.

So there ATM is drilling it down like a mafuggin champ with the acrylic drill.

(My hats off to all my Asian folks working in nail shops. Ya'll are quite gangsta, and I respect you to the full. It couldn't be me... it could not be me!!)

Anyway, I look down and realize my suede black boots are between my pedicure station and CrustyBadToe over there on my left.

With all her toenail crumbs spattered on my boots.

I was a bit distraught to say the least. Here it was, snowing, nasty, and wet on the ground, so I couldn't have just bought some flip flops from the ATMs. I can't throw my boots away cause I paid a good amount of money for them. And I love those boots! So I did what I could, shook them out, and whispered my disgust to my sister sitting on my right side:

Me: Girrrrrlll, I know you saw them toenails.

SisterSister (laughing, eyes wide): You know I did. She needs to go to the doctor with that instead of letting them use that drill.

Me: I'm so mad right now. Her toenail crust is all over my boots, looking like some damn Frito lay crumbs.

SisterSister laughs: Arrgh!!

Me:I'm so pissed.

SisterSister: Oh shit, look, she's having them paint her toes red to cover it up.

Me: Dammit to hell.

Sexy pumps on/ Toenails red/Toenails are a catastrophe/Pump them full of lead- LL Cool J & Simone_Dior

(And that's still the weakest rhyme LL ever said out his mouth)

But, I wanted to pull a Quick in Harlem Nights when he shot Vera's toe off...

"I will blow that gnarled, crusty, m/f/cka off!"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NOJoz3wdTjU

and shoot her two big toes off and leave her with eight little piggies like Quick did Vera.

but anywho..

Fellas be careful. When the nail polish remover goes on, and the red toe nail polish comes off there might be some trife ass shit to be seen.

I'm yo baby yo baby yo baby yo baby

Smdh. Look at LL's braided bracelets though. Hip Hop been gay...

Don't Eat McDonalds

I know some of ya'll are gonna continue to suck it down, but if you do, stay away from the Mc Fish, or whatever that shit is called. Or don't eat it while riding in a car where there's no airflow.

Usually, I'm not one of those people who put food up to their noses and inhale deeply, because I find it quite rude. But something inside me told me to sniff that Mc Fish that day.

Yeah. McFish is quite funky. I totally get where the phrase "she smells like fish" comes from now.

So after I ate it..

bwahahahaaa!!!

Later Gators! Have a wonderfulfantasterificsunshiny day!!