Showing posts with label low-fashion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label low-fashion. Show all posts

Friday, July 31, 2009

Blog Abandonment & Monie versus Alcohol

I know... I've been superneglectful. The summer semester is coming to an end and I've got work to do. Gotta get these A's and thangs! Plus everybody I knows birthday was last week and this week. It's been a tailspin of Patron, Grey Goose, Hennessy, and Wray & Nephew Brandy.

*in my chrisette michele voice*
















and the
n it comes to me...like an epiphany...

I present to you
:

Monie Versus Alcohol- The Untold Story

(this is the argument I ALWAYS have with myself the morning after a night of dranks)

I know some of ya’ll be wondering. It aint no secret. Everyone is privy to the drunken status updates from 2 am and on most weekends. It’s nothing nice, but I wanna share my story.

Cause it’s cleansing and whatnot. :/

This morning after a night of Grey Goose
and partying I re-evaluated my life—for the third time in 2 weeks. Much like I always do after I’ve had too much to drank. It usually goes something like this:

-Me laying in bed with face buried in the pillow, feeling the after effects of whatever liquor swirling around in my belly, threatening to attack me with chronic diarrhea

- lots of heavy breathing in hopes to calm my stomach and my nerves


Now here comes my thoughts:
-I’m not drinkin
g anymore. This is it. I need to start partying with a mafuckin O'douls in my hand.

-I’m gonna stop. For real this time. It fucks with my anxiety.

-I’m gonna stop going to the club. Only when I’m on vacations I’ll go.I promise! Oh, and on special occasions.


And then after 2 Advil and a cold shower, I’ve forgotten everything me and myself talked about. And probably hours later, I promise you, my partner in crime K. is texting me telling me that there’s a bbq, club, event, whatever going on that night, and
"we’re going!" and my text reply is almost always “Aowwwww!” depending on the amount of school work I've finished.

Cause I’m a mess. And I love this party and
bullshit lifestyle that I lead on weekends. Just being honest.


The adrenaline rush I get from putting on make-up, doing my hair, putting on dresses , high heels, and cutesy costume jewelry is borderline scary. Even now as I’m writing this thinking about it all, my mouth is watering and Beyonce’ yelling “All da singuh lay-dies!” is sounding off in my head. (It’s always either that or “Diva”)

I digress—

so …I always go out with intentions of having no drinks.

The battle between Me and Myself goes something like this:

-I ain’t drinking nothing tonight. Nothing!


By the time we get half way to Manhattan:

-Ok, no more than two drinks, that’s it. Cause you really can’t afford it.

-Stop lying to yourself. Financial Aid got you covered. Why you think they gave you all that money anyway? It's a conspiracy! They know school is stressful and you gonna need a lil something; vacations, liquor, therapy,etc. And it’s cheaper and more fun than a spa day. They won’t play Gucci Mane and Vybz Kartel at the spa, and don’t front. You love that shit


When my fiend ass gets inside the club, it’s a whole ‘nother story. First I scope out the scene, and usually the following thoughts occur:

-Yooo, what the fuck is going on up in here! Is she really wearing her church shoes w/ her club dress? These bitches shoe game is tired.

-What the fuck is he wearing? Dancing hard as a muthafucka.

-Ooh. He’s on the down-low. Definitely a bottom. Definitely.

-My gaydar is the shit!

-Where is that bitch’s girdle??

-I wish I could get away with kicking him and not starting no shit. He dancing mad hard and there’s like, no space.

-What. The. Fuck?

-I can’t... I can’t take this shit sober.

-Go on, have 2 shots of Patron. You deserve it, mama.

*please excuse language and grammar… my thoughts are laced w/a tinge of hoodbooga. Sorry.

Before I know it, 2 becomes a maximum of 5. And don’t let K. be on her bottle poppin’ shit, because 1 G&C (Grey Goose and Cranberry juice) may turn into 8 or so. And then after that, I get to facebookin’ and or texting in between shaking a tail feather, eyeballing the room, and sipping the drinks.

And then you get random shit like the following coming up on my page:

“uh oh”
“fugged”
“#191- big bitches, put on your girdle”
“hoaifhri[oahg iroagrjioaghrioea vgioaej grio WHY??” ( <- - that’s when you know I’m really knackered) …and things of that nature Do I have a problem? Nah, I don’t think so. Nor will I sit up here and justify why I don’t think I have a problem. It’s just that I associate certain things with each other. For example:
Alcohol::Clubhouse





Barbecue::Cigarettes











Drunkenness:: Mc Donald’s


Public Pool:: Urination


White liquids:: Semen

I COULD NOT BRING MYSELF TO PUT UP SUCH NASTINESS!

Jermaine Jackson:: Ampro Gel



Tiny:: Cooler from Pound Puppies





You get my drift?

Hell, that’s just me. Hate it or love it.
*Gives self an imaginary hug*
Do I plan to change? As soon as I see any wrinkles or facial lines (if Olay Regenerist or Botox doesn't help) :D

And besides....MY BIRTHDAY IS NEXT SATURDAY!!! Woohooo! 25 for the third time around!

To all my new followers, THANK YOU! Ya'll make my heart smile.
I have to subscribe to you guys, read and play catch up and leave comments.

Be blessed kiddies!

xoxomOnie!

Monday, July 13, 2009

Hoodboogas and Seafood, Hennessy and Muffins. Oh, and Church Antics,

This weekend was interesting to say the least. It was the first time I've ever been around so many low-class people. Yup... I said that. And I mean it.

Like I told ya'll during the last post, Sissy Dear and our friend from church went up to Rhode Island for a seafood fest, then to Mohegan Sun afterwards. The trip itself was ok, but the hoodboogas on there were NOT. I wasn't expecting hoodboogas as this trip was put together by one of Sissy Dear's co-workers, but now I question the types of people that she works with. I feel scared for the poor gal. I pray she finds another job posthaste!

And so...

We get there at 8 am, expecting breakfast as these people advertised. Now, something told me to run to the Asian Bodega (lol) across the street for some Pringles because whenever the 'folk tell you you're going to get breakfast on a trip, its usually some kind of fuckery. And I am glad I did.

My intuition (aka God) don't make no mistakes.


First of all, when we got on the bus I didn't see or smell anything that looked like breakfast. All i saw was a big ass dingy white cooler. I'm wondering what the hell is in there. My guess was bagels and cream cheese, but my guess was waaay off.

About twenty minutes into the trip, these mafuckas come talkin' 'bout breakfast is served.

I'm all excited, thinking I'm about to eat a bagel, something I have no business eating.

I can almost taste the cream cheese and feel it latching on to the other million pounds of fat that is my stomach.

Then, BAM! Reality slapped me on both sides of my face and then headbutted me.

Scroll down, lemme show you what they busted out of that dingy ass white cooler for breakfast:








Have you had your break today?? Probably not.


All foods were served in:*



*Monie slams her imaginary door and closes all the blinds*
What in the ziplock continental breakfast???


But what I wanna know is WHEN did it become acceptable to drink Hennessy and eat muffins at 10:09 in the AM? And as we all know, it is NEVER ok to drink cheap ass 5 dollar Andre shitpagne(click that there).

You can't make no damn Mimosa with that off brand shit! Not that these hoodboogas were even making Mimosas. They were sipping the shit straight from their plastic cups and then topping it off with that Hennessy.

Needless to say that by the time we got to the Nordic Lodge, niggerocity was on full blast.

Scuse me one minute... I need to get comfortable for this shit right'chea.

*Monie un-buttons her skinny jeans, props her legs up on her imaginary coffee table, scratches her left titty, then lights a cigarette*

*exhale*

As one of them ugly Pretty Ricky boys would say in that Hotline song--

Pictcha dis:

(lmbao, what in blue hell is going on in this pic? that's another story, for another day)

I digress.


So about 100 of BK & BX's finest Niggeratti (yeah, oxymoronic, I know) come out to eat seafood and show the world their entire ass. There were about 5 normal people on this trip (me and my girls included).

I guess the sugar rush from the muffins and Hennessy finally hit folks, because it was just UN-COUTH! There was one table that was just LOUD as all get out, singing songs from the Color Purple. Folks cracking the crab legs and lobster shell with their TEETH! And the outfits... I can't even go there with ya'll today. I need to buy a digi-cam so I can share these things w/ ya'll. Yes, I know, I'm long overdue, but I'm not really into capturing the moment on film.

Anywho, after all that, we all pile back on the bus for Mohegan Sun. They get to serving more Hennessy and Andre shitpagne, watching movies and all that. I just turned up the volume extra loud on my Zen and prayed that my eardrums didn't bust out after the trip.

We get to Mohegan Sun, and it was alright. Nothing too exciting for me, probably cause I'm not really into gambling. I had the best time in Brookstone's testing out massagers :D

Also saw Drunken Munchkin's baby brother. Lol, small world, huh?

After we gambled out our little $10 (my sister won $20,lol) we just chilled, walked around, and took pics. Nothing exciting. We got back home to Long Island at about 1:30 am.

*blank stare*

As Forrest Gump says--



..."and that's all I got to say bout that"




Sunday I got up for church, which was quite interesting. My mother yelled at the organ player to shutup right there in the sanctuary. Very embarassing, but someone needed to tell his ass to stop. I don't remember if I ever wrote about the organ player from church.

Grab your Hennessy (lol);

time for a quick story



Ron's his name. He's "hip hop royalty" (Rakim's) older brother. Has/had a bit of a drug problem. Has about 8 teeth in his mouth, all are caked up with plaque.

(Hold your luch down)

Stays soliciting money from around the neighborhood. Our church pays him to play on Sundays. He doesn't know the words to ANY songs, and puts the following lines in everything he sings:



'mazin' grace, how sweet da sound! once was lost but nowww i'm found
*smacks away microphone with his mouth*



For two months straight during offering collection he put his own spin on that song that was the theme from Amen:



Turn on da light from heaven lawwd
Shinnnnnnne on meeeee
Turn on the light from heaven lawwd
Shine on me! Shine. it. on. me.
Talkin' bout da roaddddd, from heaven lawd
(repeat)


Every Sunday I swore I was gonna die from laughter, cracking up hiding behind the pew in front of me.


Clawdhammercy; they better not ask me to do his eulogy!

Needless to say, he's quite EXTRA, and an aggravation. I guess my mama couldn't take it no more ya'll. She's gangsta. Lol.

And that was this weekend's excitement. I should have more for ya'll this week.

Later Bubbies!!
♥ Monie

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Random Shit- the Reality TV edition



It's the 12th of the month, and dammit, we know what that means.
PMS!
Let the bitchery commence!



Isn't there a really uncanny resemblance between Miss New York and Lady Elaine Fairchild from Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood?


They have similar bitch-like attitudes as well.
Wonder if the makeup has anything to do with it? Hmm..

This ho (New York, not Lady Elaine;-) has yet another show coming out... I won't be watching.


Where is that damn red trolley when you need it to come whisk someone's ass away?
I'm sooo over her. I wish Mr. Rogers were alive. So he could tell the trolley to take New York and Lady Elaine to the M.A.C. store :(



Day 26 - Random shit I've been wanting to say about them for a while now. I'm thinking seriously of twittering Diddy and putting in my complaints.





Mike- I love big Mike, but he got one more damn time to squeeze his big ass into a bubble vest. One more time!






And has the nerve to be wearing it with a tie?! Looking like a Berenstain Bear.




Awwww!! Kindness, Caring and Sharing.
I felt lightweight bad after reading that, but then I realized:

I am in fact doing most of the above.

I'm kind enough to share my opinion. I just don't have that caring part down yet, but by God's grace, I'mma git there!

- Isn't it hilarious how they always have to put captions on when Mike and Willie are speaking.




Especially Mike... cause everytime he opens his mouth I just hear Pootie Tang.



Sadatay!




Willie-
I don't know how I didn't include Willie in my line of men I'd smash if I could. He is single-handedly saving that damn Making the Band shitastrophe. Women (and some of ya'll men...mhmmm) are tuning in Thursday nights to see Willie's fine ass. He could've had one leg and a kickstand, I'd still beat!








Que





What in the Legend of Bagger Vance?
What is this mafucka wearing?? This is an all the time thing for Que. He looks like a gerbil.






Old gerbil looks like he's doing his thing. Diddy might wanna call him up and replace Que. No one will be the wiser.


Robert- rides my nerves, but after this last episode, I've grown to love him. He spit the damn truth last Thursday night. I would have shown my left titty on the highway to see him throw that chair at Que and knock his little ass over.



Oooh! Is that a bangle on his wrist? Where is Miss Wendy when you need her? How you doin?!


Brian- is a bit annoying too.



Like someone sticking their dick in your ear. Don't trip, I'll talk about that another day, lol, I just don't have the energy tonight.

Anyway, I've never seen someone manage to look dingy even when they've been airbrushed. How does he do it? I like Brian though. He sings his little ass off.

Did I forget any of them? I feel like I should have included Dawn's ass. She's like the sixth member now. I mean, it could work.

Dawn has the balls to be down.







And the strap on.

Because we all know she bussin' Que's back wide open. Let me stop that. I like Dawn :)

Heheheheh... I need to behave myself. I'm going to bed. Easter service tommorow.
xoxomonie*


Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Pigeon Juice: The Shit You Just DON'T Drank!

For Bella (the source of my inspiration this evening) and Pop Pop (who always hips me to the illest dranks)

So let's get down to the getting downs:

So Monie.. .what is pigeon juice, you ask?
Let's have a definition, shall we?

Pigeon Juice (noun): chickenhead libations; oft times consumed in the clubhouse as a choice drink courtesy of male tricks. Similar to hood nigga pot likkah-- see definition
(well, not really. i'll give it to you another day,lol)

So...

A few weeks ago, my sissy and I were chit chatting--reminiscing about a friend of hers who was offered drinks for herself and the two of us in the club.
This trollop oredered nasty ass Hypnotiq. I remember being very upset about it, and trying to pawn it off to a stranger. Of course no one wanted it, so I just put it on a chair and kept it pushing.





*Get out your walking stick, Monie's bout to do a Kirk Franklin-esque stomp all up on somebody's corn toes*

Hypnotiq is really not what's up in the new year. It was alright when it first hit the market, but since then all the hood allstars have picked up on it, thus decreasing its value. For some reason when I'm doing clubhouse examinations, I always see the chickenheads gulping it down or Shawnquavious and his homeboys holding up the bottle in VIP, courtesy of the child support money he "forgot" to pay. (Gigantic F.U. to all the deadbeat dads-- you'll never prosper!)

So uh, yeah, like I was saying, Hypnotiq is a no-no.

Nuvo

what in the piss water sublime???!!!

oooh!!! this joint is atrocious. I decided to try it some time last year since my friend-in-my-head Wendy Williams kept hyping it up.

Fuckingggg. Nasteee.

I'm glad I only bought the small bottle. Never one to waste anything, I emptied that bitch out and put nail polish remover in it.

Now I have a cute little nail polish remover bottle. Nuvo is also uncouth-- as Pop Pop points out, it has a twist cap

Very remiscent of Olde E.

This is not classy at all. I know T. Pain got you all fooled, endorsing the hot shit out of it in the Blame it on the Alcohol video.

But look at him:

Ask yourself a question:
Would you really wanna drink something that he drinks??

Snap ya fingas/ do ya step/ you can do it all by yo selffff
sha na na na na e.coli. ...Let me press forward..

Alize


Somebody ought to elbow- buss you in your mouth piece if you're still drinking Alize. Alize is the ultimate pigeon drank!!

**Make note of how you've seen every color that Alize comes in, in some chickenhead's weave. **

Conspiracy theory!!

If this is still your practice, cease and desist, dammit!!
Plus its outdated. Besides... your mom probably drank it back in her day along with that Asti Spumanti and Bartles & Jaymes. Let's upgrade, folks.

Canei


...and if you're still drinking this shitastrophe, someone ought to grab it from you, and smash you in the head.

This is murder 1 in a bottle.
A twist cap bottle.
Canei is so low-class that they give it to you to drink STRAIGHT FROM THE BOTTLE at the club!!
The pigeons used to be hoo-hoo-ing at this one too. I haven't seen anyone drink this since 2002, thank God, but I'm sure someone's still guzzlin' it.

So Monie, what should we be drinking in the 2009?

Hell if I know, lol :)

However I can hip you to the shit that I drink. I am a biased drinker. Make note of how I mainly drink tequila.

Don Julio Blanco



This is my absolute shit. It's better than Patron, and tad less expensive, even though the quality is better. It's skrong, yet smooth. All you need is a little.

Usually after 2 sips my coochie is bumpin like the Kanye baseline from Love Lockdown.




Dumdumdum-dum


Dumdumdum-dum

...til we lose controllll system overload screamin no no
non-nooooo


(Look how Kanye's sitting down in that corner, looking all drunk-like. Probably had that Don!)
*Note- If you're trying to remain celibate like me, do not drink it in the company of men.

Your clothes. will. fall. off.

Other than that, I drink the various Patrons (reposado, anejo) ; but nothing tops the Don. And! You can mix it with damn near anything. One time I mixed it with orange juice... ooh! slap me now, slap me later! Delicioso!!
Now, if the clubhouse doesn't have my shit in stock (which they usually don't); I'll opt for the voddy (Grey Goose). If the men inside are too ugly to look at, I'll run for the Hennessy. If Hennessy is not in the building
(yeah, I know, how does that happen, but it has) , I'll fuck with Remy.

I never drink rail liquor. DC has taught me it is death for free.

I'd rather transfer the $7 in my savings account to the $8 in my checking to buy top shelf.

Because the bad shit is bound to give you bad experiences:

Dranks I will never fuck with again:


Absolut - no lie, one time I was drunk on Absolute, and did the ultimate crackhead shit. picture it:

5:something in the AM i got out of the bed and had this incredible urge to dance. So I dropped it down low, and brought it back.
And got right back in the bed. After that; never no mo'.

E&J- Gentle Jesus meek and mild, look upon a little child!!! Never again. Absolutely terrible!! (E&J actually should have made it to the pigeon juice list)


Andre Champagne - $5 champagne can never be a good look. Not never.


Jose Cuervo- bottled shit water. I won't touch it. I will not touch it.


anything by Seagrams- Seagrams will make you not want to drink for years. We used to use it for drinking games back in one of my undergrads (yup.. I went to 3 of 'em..shutup) and you wake up feeling like you need an exorcism. It's bad business.


Svedka- nasty. quite. nasty.


Friis- harsh. Do not drink this unless you're in Miami during memorial day weekend. You will be fugggged uppppp for days on end. The good thing about Friis is you don't wake up with a hang.


Gosh... I could be here all night,but I'm tired.


Later muffins!


monie*