H.O.M.E.L.E.S.S

H.O.M.E.L.E.S.S


Bet ya’ll didn’t know that word was an acronym.

Monie, say what?

Hell fuckin’ yeah.

Look it:

*Monie hurriedly scribbles the the following word vertically on her imaginary chalkboard and uses the chalk to point out each letter to your attention*


H is for Hustling

O is for Others'

M is for Money

E is for Eating (and drinking too) and

L is for Living free off of

E veryones

S hit and finally

S for So the fuck what, bitch?

*Chalk snaps in half from all the hard pointing. Monie throws what’s remaining in her hand somewhere over her shoulder and barely misses Dinka cat’s head*
Good-bye T.O.N.Y., Hello H.O.M.E.L.E.S.S.!

Solange aint the only bitch that can make an acronym out this mafucka!

H.O.M.E.L.E.S.S - Got it, everybody?
Now for today’s diatribe.
*Cue in T.O.N.Y instrumental*

I don’t like homeless people. That’s right, I said it. I don’t.
I feel like 99% of them are living foul-like—begging for money under false pretenses of being hungry and having no money for the bus. Meanwhile, they got more money than me because during the 8 hours I’ve been busting my ass for about $35 dollars an hour (that gets tax-raped down to like $17) you, oh Homeless Wonder, have been sucking dick tax free for crack and Popeye’s Chicken.

(Click on these pics to enlarge-- they're a must see)

And if he (or she) is one of them new age Nomads like the ones that bless DC and NYC they fucks with nothing but Starbucks, Coca Cola, and Fiji water.

Monie, say what!?

Oh yes!! They are brand whores for real. I implore you to keep reading!

Well damn, bitch-- why are you so mad about it?

Really, it’s a combination of a whole lot of things, but I ain't got time for all that.

The main reason I’m so mad is because I KNOW for a fact (ok, maybe not a fact, but I have a strong ass feeling) that these ho’s are holding no less than $40 bucks after they done got through a day’s “work”.

Story time.
Yesterday, the 21st century nomad that posts up by my job asked me to spare some change. Now, I have watched old boy very closely since I’ve begun working at my job.

Every morning around 7:30 I see him sipping STARBUCKS coffee or Frappuccinos.

Every evening he’s across the street from Starbucks posted up in front of CVS panhandling for bus fare, snacks, and the cold drink of his choice. Make note that he only panhandles evenings.

What’s on his agenda in the mornings??

Mmmhmm.



Dick suckin’ and crack smokin’.
Swallow it, gargle it.



Sometimes I see this ho ass fucka on the bus. He rides it 3 whole stops and gets off. And! Wait for it….he wears an exceptionally clean pair of Jordans. Yes. JORDANS. I kid you not.



See, I’d respect ‘em more, and would probably even dip into my pocket *blankdamnstare* if these bastards told the truth or didn’t yell out demands to me.



So now that you have the background on this mafucka--- continue on.

Anywho, when he begged for my money I kindly told him that I debit everything and don’t carry cash. Which is true. Right now I exactly One Cent in my wallet, 2 void checks and $10 Jamaican dollars which is probably equivalent to…half a cent. Dead ass. After I said this to old boy, he yelled out something that left me fuckin’ flabbergasted.

Wooo chile, tell us what he said!

Sheeeiit…would I be me if I didn’t?

This muthafucka said,

“Well when you go inside bring me back out a Coca Cola!”

Say whaaaaa?!

*In my best Solange voice*

Homeless don’t beg no mo’/ They be makin’ requests oh noo

Yes, ladies! This fool didn’t even ask for something to drink, he demanded his choice of soda. Mind you, if I had, it would mean I’d have to walk in the opposite direction of where I’m going. He got a lot of nerve! I guess not having a home doesn’t stop a man from acting like a man, huh? *blank.damn.stare*

Just for kicks, I looked at the price of Coke and it was $1.79, which probably after tax brings it up to $2.00 and change. Part of me wanted to go back and elbow buss him in his dusty ass head. Because I can do a whole lot of shit with two dollars.

Let me break down the value of $2.00 in Monie’s world:

- That’s one day’s travel to and from work (or at least it was until Metro hiked fares yesterday—thanks ya bastards)

- A four piece chicken nuggets and fries at the Golden Arches—which Monie’s fat ass shouldn’t be eating, but still.

- One load of clothes washed (or dried) in the laundry room

- One can of frozen concentrated juice which I am forced to buy thanks to this severe case of broketivity I’m experiencing

- A box of Rice-a-roni. You know, The San Francisco Treat? Yeah, that shit

- A small Lucerne brand coffee creamer. I need this off brand shit for my coffee. So I can stay awake at work while I stay busy pretending to be busy

- Not just one, but two bags of sliced bread.

- 3 international text messages at.60 cents each.

.

Seriously, I could go on forever, but ya’ll get my point


“I coulda been alright by now if it wasn’t for H.O.M.E.L.E.S.S ”

*Monie blows bangs out of her eyes*

Later ya’ll. I know u loved these pics--- especially Khaki dearest :)

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!

Suck a Dick, Swallow a Kidney Stone-- more Groupie tales courtesy of Backstagepazz.com

Hi my Blog Babies! Again, sorry for being so hit and miss with you guys. Coursework-- the life of a grad student; you see how it goes. No time for anything besides homework and the random sexual encounter.
*shrug*
:)

So, today lets talk about the following fuckery:

Jasun Wiggins



Do ya'll know who he is?

*silence*

Yeah... I don't either.

Anywho... apparently, his achievements include wrapping his dick in the American flag and skeeting off kidney stones in the mouths of random hos.



What in the oral disrespect?? I can't..

Read on.

* Mo lights a bidi, and inhales*

Let's play red light-green light, stop n go. After all, we haven't played in a while, we're overdue.

Green

i was in my 20s when i was deep into the online chat---blackplanet (which is how we met), migente, etc thing. i am not here to dog him out but i do agree that if you have been with this guy then to go and get tested.

Red
Don't nothing good come off that Blackplanet now, does it? Shanananana.
After I read about how careless people are with their bodies I wanna get tested...every bumboclaat day. I'm just sayin... continue

GO

he seemed to be impressed that i wasn't some chickenhead from around the way that was completely naive.

Stop
Chile please!

*Monie's imaginary baby chicken, Byron, enters and starts clucking at his long lost relative*

Alright now, Byron, that's enough excitement. Shut it down.

*Byron quiets himself and goes off in search of some seeds*

Carry on..

Go

his people had cooked dinner and i was invited to get a plate. i noticed that jasun was checking me out as my back was turned to him and obviously liked what he saw. we talked some more and as his people stopped coming in as much we had a quicky. i went down on him and quickly learned that he lived up to his page name. if you really don't think that he's big then your stuff must be stretched out like a limo because he is THICK and has a nice size on him and there is no way i would let all that go in my a$$.

Red

One minute, we're on a food line, the next you're getting plowed out, head bowed down. Oh really now? Smh...

Green

we snuck upstairs to someone's messy room and he bent me over real quick to finish what he had started. i heard people close by so we had to make it real quick but it was a good enough for a quicky. i felt like i was in high school lol. i left after that.

Stop

Uh uh. UH UH. Don't you do that. Ladies, don't let no nigga "bend you over real quick". You and your vagine deserve more. Remember that. Also, who can have sex in a messy room? I wouldn't be able to concentrate. You know, the whole Zen factor and all that. I'm just saying..

Go!

the second time i came across him was through an email one of my coworkers sent me. it was his pic where's he wrapped up below with the american flag.

Stop

LMMFAO @ this Dick-in-a-flag ass nigga. I can't...


Go

everyone in the office was trippin' off him and i was like damn i know him. i told my girl in private that i had been with him and she was like "WHAT!!" i knew that he comes here around the holidays so i hit him up on bp again and asked if he remembered me. this time we met at one of those travellodge places. this time i my "aunt flo" was in town so i wasn't there long. i did go down on him again and remember something that felt like a small stone come out when he came. by then i was through with his cocky a$$. i don't know what the hell that was but it scared me and thank God every test afterward came out negative. i do however think he might be down low though. he didn't act sweet or anything. maybe i'm just paranoid because he seems to f*&^ any and EVERYONE. i heard they have a lot of bath houses in atl and he seems like the type. he still looks good but he's starting to look harder instead of finer. i wish i had hooked up with his boy instead of him lolol. those were the days back when i was young and wild!

*Monie gathers Dinka, Byron, and her imaginary pet donkey and hums "Sweet Hour of Prayer"*

I can't...

1. Is she serious? She has the nerve to say she's "paranoid because he seems to f/ck everyone". Bitch please. You were just as quick to f/ck him. Furthermore, this nigga was nasty enough to put his dick in a flag, you saw this hot shit...and you basically sign up to just give him a professional, knowing you can't even get anything in return??


Bam-bam-di-dam-bam-bam-di-da-da-disturbia.
No more gas in the red, can't even get it started!!!!

2. You're swallowing the "babybatter" of someone you don't even know like that???

*vomit in throat*

And you have the nerve to get mad cause he skeeted (what sounds to be) his damn kidney stone in your mouth???


You can read this travesty in its entirety on backstagepazz.com. I can't...

i be on my bullshit...ps-keep yo cum to yo'self!

so last night i went and "hung out" with D/m. Naw, lets keep it one hunn'ed-- I fucked D/m. Why? Well, the jury's still out on that one.

*Monie sigh and rubs her temples*

i can already tell you that this is going to be insanity.

so dm texts me, telling me he's watching the game but that he'd rather be doing something else. i already know what he's talking about, but to humor myself i ask him what would he rather be doing.

if you guessed "fuckin"; ding ding ding.

no prizes will be given today though...sowwy.

so, since i wasn't doing anything but watching Mahogany for the millionth time, and he didn't really care about watching the game, we decided to get it in.

he comes to get me, late as usual. so instead of me doing my "just-bang-it-out -right-now" tactic, i decided to sit on the couch and have actual conversation with him.

*Monie sips her drink and lets out a mean belch*

i understand that i get annoyed easily, but dm has a way of bringing it out of me.

whenever i make a statement about something he always has to ask me the following dumb fuckery question:

How you figure?

Nigga, what??!

I'm sorry, I don't have a mathematical equation to give you the answer as to why I feel the way I do about certain shit. I got fed up and let him know not to ask me that question ever again because it's beyond stupid.

Arghh!

After conversation about my vacation, why I don't take pics, reasons why he should give me one of his 4 cameras, and making plans to have fondue next week, we got down to the gettings down.

I can't say it was bad, but I must admit, I couldn't enjoy myself for the following reasons:

• I felt consumed by guilt, like I was cheating on #4 or something
• I kept thinking about #4, and how his hip action is just something probably no other dude I done had can fuck with
• and, this nigga ain't give me no head! But I don't really care... he aint get none from me neither

*shrug*

After like an hour and change I was just hoping he would come already. I just wanted to be done with it. So I hit him with the "grip-grip-squeeze" and then...

this nigga attempted to violate.

As he's getting ready to come, I realize that he's pulling out and getting ready to take off the condom to deliver cum shots on yours truly.

*insert my most intense 'nigga please' look right'chea*

So I rolled over to the edge of the bed as fast as I could. I mean, I was so quick with it I'm surprised I didn't drop on the floor. And this muthafucka comes all over the bed. He really should practice his aim. But who am I to judge?? It might be hard having a penis, I really couldn't tell ya.

Now, a little tidbit about me-- I ain't a fan of cum.

I will go ahead and say I hate cum. It goes on my list of nasty liquids along with mayonnaise, blood, and boogysnots.

The consistency, and the fact that it can get you pregnant...GET THAT SHIT OUTTA HERE AND AWAY FROM ME!

I won't lie, I've had my small share of dealing with the cum. However, I have to have a place in my heart for a dude in order to tolerate his babybatter and even then, it rarely comes without scorn.

But back to what had happened...

Yeah, so DM skeets all over the bed. Now even though it aint my bed, I'm pissed off because I wanted to take a nap! My head was hurting a bit, and I just wanted to relax dammit!!

Me: Euw. Go get a blanket or something to cover that up. I'm not laying down in your babybatter.

D/m feels around on the bed, shocked ( i assume): damn, how the hell did it get all the way over there? i can't believe you just rolled over like that. i thought you were getting in a different position and i got excited. next thing i knew, you were basically just out

Me: Yeah, you keep that baby batter to yourself.

So D/m goes and gets blankets and puts them down so we can have a quick lie-down. I have a fatass moment and start talking about I want chicken nuggets

and he says he could go for some as well. I tell him we should go in the next 15 minutes. It was 1:00 then. Next thing I know we both drift off to sleep and it's 3 am. I wake him up and he's freaking out because he's gotta get up for 6:30 am for work. We get dressed, he takes me home and I fuck up some Lean Cuisine instead.


(You can't always get what you want in life, huh?)

I still feel a bit bad because of #4, but I keep reminding myself that he's out doing his own thing also. Even though he didn't use that condom...he probably used another one (lol)...and there was one night I forgot to tell ya'll about:

My cousin was over and we come back to the room and he's all showered and dressed talking about he was going out without us. So I told him since he wanted to go out, and not take us, she and I were going out too. He started acting all nervous, talking about he wanted us to stay in, and wasn't I trying to save money; basically anything he thought would make me stay home. So then he changes his mind and says he's not going to go out, that we should all stay in. I didn't really feel like going anywhere anyway, but I was determined to catch him in some shit because earlier that day some chick had called his phone and he lied about who she was and then came up with some bullshit ass story. Negril on a week night doesn't have many places to go, so I knew if I went looking for him I'd find him in either 2 places.

So yeah, #4 does his dirt, and I do mine. I'm glad I reminded myself... now I don't feel guilty anymore :D

Other than that, school got me going, ya'll. I've been busy with work and trying to get all my papers done early.

Besos muffins!
xoxom0nie!

Jamaica--Scandalocity, Trollopcy, Pussy Stop Signs and Sociopaths

Muffins... I am dead ass tired, but after tomorrow, life is back to a halt thanks to school. The syllabi is threatening to cause nervous breakdown, heart disease, kidney failure, cancer, and just straight up... DEATH. So I regret to inform you... my antics will be a bit scarce til after Thanksgiving.
Let's recap, shall we?

*Monie props her legs up on the coffee table, picks her nose, looks at it...shrugs... and flicks it across the living room*

:)p

Let's talk about #4 and his madness.
*sigh*

I don't think I have ever argued with someone this much in my entire life. usually when i get into a cuss-out with a person, i'm in beef mode for like weeks, but #4 has a knack for making me laugh in the midst of what could be intense anger for me. Very much like in that Notorious movie where Big had Faith laughing by singing her some silly song.

And I don't like that shit. Don't rob me of my anger, dammit!

It would take too long to give the full story on all of #4's madness, but here's a un-ordered list of his fuckery

• #4 feels that it's ok to take the very last condom we have (that I brought) and keep it in his pocket.. "just because, no reason." this story will be explained later, as it makes no sense right now. carry on.
• #4 also believes that it is ok to take a girl to a bar "to have a nice evening out".
• #4 lied about his age. It turns out that he is not turning 28, but is in fact 24 going on 25. I saw his birth certificate.

now i interrupt this list to give you the story behind the condom. I shall call it:

I'm Walking Around With This Condom In My Pocket... Just Because- a short story.


So...the second week I was there, I went to visit my sister in Montego Bay for the weekend. Left Saturday, came back Monday. Left #4 with the key to my suite so he could come and go as he pleased. Even though I was on my own trifling bullshit (we'll talk about that later) I see that #4 is in fact up to some bullshit of his own.

That Friday before I left #4 and I had some of our usual mindblowing sex, and that left us with one condom. Jill Scott said it best, "one is the magic number."
Anywho, I made sure I put that one condom where I could see it in the nightstand.

Cause life is always about tests. Pass, Fail bitches.

So you can imagine my disbelief when I came back to the suite and saw NO CONDOM and some weed in the nightstand. I called my cousin and K (who happened to be in Jamaica--she was in Kingston though) screaming and packing up his shit.

Me: So I come back and WHY is the last condom we had missing? What the fuck? I know he doesn't have the nerve to fuck some next bitch w/ the condoms I done bought with my money. And I swear he better not have fucked her in my room.
*packing his clothes and setting them on the chair with two lada (plastic) bags on top for anything he may not be able to fit in the two bags he had. that's me, always being thoughtful :D*
K: that's crazy.... *launches into her own issues w/ her pop-off/boo in NY named Ty* Me: I got to go.
(Precisely why I have a therapist. Anytime I need to talk, people wanna launch into their own shit. Spare me)

So I call my lil cousin and tell her.

Little Cousin: Well you can't really be mad anyway, you had sex w/ someone else.
Me: Yeah, but still. Whatever. Whatever! I'm glad i did it. The shit was good too. Either this nigga produce this condom, which I doubt he will or he get the fuck out.
Little Cousin: We'll see.
So in strolls #4 around 11pm after work that night. I'm so mad I'm smoking cigarettes in my non-smoking room, and can hardly even speak to him.

So he goes on the veranda, smokes his weed, comes back in and says:

Him: So what's the matter now? Me: I'm not quite ready to talk about it.
So he starts guessing.

The second guess he hits it on the head.

Him: You don't see the condom in the drawer? Me: Yeah, where is it? Him: I just took stuff out the draw and put it in my pocket out of habit. Me: Yeah, but why would you take the condom? Who else are you fucking. Him: No one Me: Apparently someone. What made you take it w/ you?
to make a long story short we get to arguing and then he goes into his book bag and pulls out the condom and throws it on the bed.
Him: There it is. Me: So why are you carrying it around with you anyway?? Him: Why does it matter. It's right there. You just like to argue.

And on and on we go for about an hour why he can't just tell me why he took it with him in the first place. Never did get an answer. Don't really care. All I know is he be on his shit, and I be on mine. We agree to disagree.

*shrug*

The End


Aside from this we had several other arguments. Last Saturday he was supposed to take me on a Glass Bottom boat, and it didn't work for whatever reason. So of course I'm disappointed because he's been promising to take me since April. Even though the whole boat thing fell through, one would think that he'd find something else for us to do, but no, instead he's chopping it up w/ his friends. So I tell him I'm going across the street to the beach and he's asking me why I have an attitude. This turns into a disagreement that almost gets out of hand right there on the Negril 7 mile strip with both of us cussing each other out. There were even tears afterwards (shed by me out of anger, cause I wanted to rip his head off).

I think that was probably the last blow out we had, and everything was ok from then on. I don't want to fall for #4 and the up and down dysfunction and madness, but i have a little soft spot for his crazy ass. We agree that we do not understand each other much, but our spirits take to one another.
*rolls eyes*

Now lets talk about Sugar... the other 24 year old that popped off with.

This happened the same weekend of the above condom incident.

*raised eyebrows*

Now before I even got down to Mo Bay, her neighbor/ homeboy was checking for me. Apparently he saw me when I first arrived in Jamaica and stopped by my sister's house and proclaimed "it was love at first sight."

*Monie casts one of her infamous "nigga please" looks*

So, i wasn't even trying to hear his lameness... until I actually met him and saw what he looked like.

*Monie crosses and uncrosses her legs as she rocks back and forth*

Lawdy jeezus lawdy jeezus! The boy was damn...FINE. Ya'll hear me?

• Had the face--caramel complexion, chinky bedroom eyes, GAWGEOUS lips, nice nose, pretty teeth)
  
• Had the body---he must be drinking some extra fortified milk because he was thick to DEATH, but lean at the same time, nice pecs, legs, and an ass to rival Asafa Powell's.
• And he knew it, and thus, had that cockiness about him that I adore in a man. LOL
  

So I met him that Sunday. He came over to help out with cooking for the party. I'm inside the living room eyeing him, and he's eying me from the backyard, but I'm the type of girl who rarely puts herself out there.

I let them come hither.

Not cause I think I'm just the baddest bitch...but because I'm somewhat shy :)

So I go outside to get a paper towel close to where he is...cause I was sweating, plus I wanted to get a closer look. He's all smiling at me, and I smile back and go inside. Still no words exchanged. Next thing I know there's a huge downpour of rain and everyone runs inside the house. My sister brings him into her room to me and tells us to start talking.

So we're there making conversation. He's got me all nervous because he's staring at me and killing me with compliments. I didn't know what to do with myself.
As always, there's some shit to stink things up:

• He has a girlfriend
• He's 24
• He lives with his girlfriend
  

You know... same way it always goes for me. Someone play the violins, please.

Anyway, we start talking about physical attraction and sex, and here he goes telling me that even though he loves his girlfriend and he's happy with her, he would like the chance to be with me because he thinks we'd be good together. And even though he's young, he knows how to please a woman and how to make her comfortable

*crickets*

Boy puh-lease!!

But of course me being me, I'm always curious. So I entertain this madness and start asking questions. Next thing I know, he's lifting me up and bouncing me around like I weigh practically nothing. Now my curiosity is at its peak.

We both decide that we should fuck each other the following day.

So that next day is Monday and I'm going back and forth between should I do it/ should I not.

I reflect on the prior afternoon's Ving Rhames bounce-around and decide that I should.


It was rather good... but recalling it all now... not as good as #4. Additionally, his dick ain't as big as #4's. Overall, I'd give the pipe-game a 7.5. Also, might I add.. he gots to be one of the sweatiest mafuckas i ever smashed. I understand it's JA and the house had no AC but damn!

Word to the wise- several positions are great, however, don't switch things up too quickly.

But of course, as it always goes w/the Monie...this nigga tried to violate.

He tried to stick me without a condom.

Ya'll know I'm not in for that. I had to pull out the Pussy Stop Sign real quick.


Nigga, Halt!!!

See, we started off using the condom, and all was well. Halfway through, he decides he needs a break and takes it off, knowing we only had one. So I ease back from him and I'm chillin, however he's got other ideas in mind.

He was trying to convince me to just go for it, how he gets tested, and he never has sex with anyone but his girl.

Um, how bout no.

Nigga, you here creeping with me, but you don't have sex with anyone else???
You trifling.
So am I... but we talking about his ass right now.

Anywho. So he keeps trying to convince me, then tried to throw raw shaft on your girl. I promptly got up and started putting on clothes. After that he gave up and he went home to go shower.

I have not heard from his since. Nor do I care.

*shrug*

So, yes, that was those were the scandalous parts of my vacay. Aside from all that, I did a great deal of partying and chillin w/ my little cousin. Also getting to understand why it is #4 is the way he is. Not that I should care, but I'm curious about human behavior.

And his leads me to believe he's a socio-path. Go'n and click that there... you might have a sociopath in your cipher too. Those are the signs.

Sociopath and all, I have a little soft spot in my heart for #4-- which is not good. If you read that shit right there you will see that I need to leave him alone posthaste. We'll see how it all plays out. I'm trying to head back to the JA in December for a month. If I stay with him I can save a great deal of money and be okay to move into my DC apartment.

Yes, I know. Stupidity aflame, but hey... we all have our moments :D
I promise to do better...next year. LOL

Later Gators!

xomonie!

More Groupie Sex Tales- Jim Jones

Dammit, man! Backstagepazz.com -- ya'll are making my summer out this bitch!


Soooo, I made up a new game, ya'll. It's called "What the Fuck". Very similar to my usual red light-green light, but its 2009 so I figure, hey, why not do some new shit.

Today we're talking about the penis of Joseph Guillermo Jones or as we all know him, JIM JONES .

Scuse me as I let out my niggadom ; you know, that hood side that all of us have-- white folks, ya'll ain't exempt!

*Monie pops open a bag of bodega potato chips (UTZ! ) and sets it beside her Tropical Fantasy- Colt 45 cocktail (lmao), and turns up the volume on her bootleg Dipset's Greatest Hits CD. *

Jim Jones, this basket of Chlamydia... ugh. Let's get started shall we?

*In my best Cam'ron voice*

KILLA!!

Jim Jones came to my city on a tour with another rapper. I went to the show with my sister and a couple of our friends. I was a lil intoxicated and ended up losing everybody I was with. On some ol' humbug type shit, I just really asked one of the security guards if I could go backstage....my outfit was pretty hot (lol). I was backstage just walking around and stumbled upon Jimmy and Freaky Zeaky, Jimmy asks me "what I was doing" so me I play the dumb role and was like " I lost my sister", you know the damsel in distress, lol.
He asked me to come and chill with them, I'm like "you sure?" He like "yeah", so I'm in there and next thing you know he pulls out some money and I must admit he was holding that night so I'm like "can I have some?" He like "what you gonna give me?" I'm like "whatever baby" so he cash's me out and we are fucking on a table, he just bent me over the table and hit it from the back for like 5 mins, and then put me on my back with one leg on his shoulder(while his dude is watching).

Everybody all together now: WHAT THE FUCK?!

Money for sex, what we call that, ya'll?

*Dumb mafucka in the crowd shouts out "Ballin!"*

Naw nigga, try again.

That's prostitution.

Who says the world ain't fair?

It is.

Look at that: a dirty ass nigga for a dirty ass bitch. She got bent over a table while his friend (probably Freeky Zeeky handicapped ass) was watching?? Lmao, all I can see is one of them fold-up lunch tables from back in middle school and someone bent over getting pounded out.

Nastiness.

Jimmy Jones, you dead wrong for that shit. And Imma set Handicaps Welfare Association on your ass.


Smh.

Carry on Groupie:

It was alright though....you will not believe this guy put his finger in my ass!!!!!!!! I wasn't feeling that at all but hey its his dime. I must admit he's a sweaty muthafucka and he was talking shit too like " you like this bitch" I must admit I kinda liked it...the talking not the sex cause my butt was sore for a couple days!!!! I thought that he gave me like $600.00 but it was more like five something, tell you the truth though...I would have let him get it for free,lol. If he wasn't sweating so much I think it would have been better. Sweaty Ass!!

WHAT. THE. FUCK!?

I say, one mo' gain: WHAT! THE! FUCK?!!?

*Monie pours her Tropical Fantasy-Malt Liquor cocktail on the ground. The rental white carpet in her apartment bursts into flames. Quickly, she sprinkles the Utz chips on the fire in hopes to out it, but the flames rise up higher than Sam Jackson on crack in Jungle Fever... is this the end??*

Nah.

For real though, I have some questions.

1- Somebody please tell me: what was "alright" about this entire situation? You get pounded out over a table for five minutes while someone sticks a finger in your ass for roughly $5-bills? Houston, we have a mafuckin problem. Where is the self love out here?

*Monie sadly watches the self love float off into oblivion*

2- I need these bitches to have higher standards for sex. Imma share some of mine:

I definitely need more than 5 minutes. 35 minutes, one or 2 hours with breaks in between, yeah. 5 minutes, fuck outta here.
You give me 5 minutes, I promise I'll shank you, tell all your friends (and my friends too) and then the rest of your life from there on out is fucked up.

Because I can't get back the Tang once I pour it out the pitcher; you will NOT be playing w/ my shit.

If he's sticking his finger in your asshole and "you ain't feeling that at all" tell him to stop. If someone is doing something to your body that you do not like/ particularly care for, tell that nigga to halt. Or do something that has always worked for me: punch him in the chest. Hard. Yup, punch that mafucka. And tell him to step off as you put on your clothes and walk up out of there/ demand he drives you back home.

3- Jim Jones is out of shape. Badly. He's pouring down excessive amounts of sweat after 5 minutes of fucking? I guess sticking your finger in someone's ass really works up a sweat, huh?

*shrug*


Yeah, no thanks... I'll pass. And if he wasn't sweating so much she thinks it could have been better? BITCH, HOW????

I am too through.

There needs to be a Dipset intervention out here...

and that's all, folks.

Groupie Sex Tale: MAVADO & the Two Hundred Dollar Ho

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"You're NEGATIVE, honey."

What.


A.


Week!!!





So if you've been following, you know that I recently went to go get blood work done after my visit to the GYN and I was freaking out because of the condom mishap w/ Drunken Munchkin.

Tuesday I went to the lab so they could draw blood and all that great stuff. However, I couldn't take not knowing my status another day. Tuesday and Wednesday I prayed, moped, worried, and complained about whether I was okay or not. My dear sister suggested that since I was so worried about the HIV that she and I go on over to Planned Parenthood and just take a test. I love her. :D

Today was the big day. Talk about being a bundle of nerves. I had the 'rhea (diarrhea) all morning, couldn't eat, just a ball of nerves; reading my Bible and constantly praying.


Thank goodness for Tales From A Groupie because it distracted me for a bit.

And is now one of my favorite blogs to read in my pastime.
I read one helluva story about Mavado. Wrote a blog about that, I'll post it after this.

I digress--

Anywho, my sister and I go to Planned Parenthood. Everyone in the waiting room is looking on edge. One girl called up whoever gave her an STD right there in the middle of waiting room and told the guy, Billy was his name, that she was going to kill him, and that she knew she" got it from him". Then she proceeded to call Billy's mama, ya'll. Everyone in the waiting room looked even more tense after that hot shit.

So they finally call my name.

I go in there, they give me the little pamphlet on the HIV, make me sign a consent form, and show me how to swab my mouth for the testing.

Swab, swab... and then...

I'm waiting what seems to be the longest 20 minutes of my life as the two nurse practitioners so nonchalantly talk about:

• teens with Chlamydia
  
• how Gonorrhea is still in action
  
• Syphillis too!
  
• lipstick parties
  
• the nurse who has been exposing people to Hepatitis C
  

Now, I'm already anxious as a muthaf/ck. Having to hear all that did not make me feel any better. Finally the timer goes off, and the Nurse Practitioner turns my swab stick around.

"You're negative, honey."

Best three words I've ever heard in my life.


I feel the need to share this story because all this time I've been going to my primary care physician thinking that they've been testing me for HIV during my physicals. I just heard from my therapist that it has just become apart of mandatory blood testing this year in the State of New York. Why? New York, you doing it all wrong, son!!

For the most part I have been socially responsible. I've had unprotected sex with 3 men in the 13 years I've been having sex, and that one condom breakage.... however, you never know where someone else has been and what they've been doing.

Life and good health is something precious. From now on me and whoever I have a sexual relationship with will be heading on over to the Planned Parenthood before anything pops off.

And if I have vacay sex, that ain't nothing but a thing. My older sister works in HIV/AIDS outreach down there. We can go together.

I feel like I've been playing Russian Roulette and lucked up.

From now on, every 6 months on the 16th of whatever month I land on, I'm going for an HIV test. Even if I ain't poppin' off, I'm still going to go. That means I'm due to go January 16, 2010.

There's nothing like knowing. Tonight I can rest peacefully. I pray the lab tests don't show anything bad either. I should know about that next week or so.

Besos Muffins!!


♥ Monie

GET TESTED, YA'LL!!

Recappin' & Recoverin' from D'Piglett (D'Swine Flu's Baby Cousin).. sex and girdles and whatnot

So I came in from the JA last Tuesday sick as a dog, ya'll. I started feeling sick after that Thursday night in Jungle , but it wasn't so bad until Monday morning. I blame #4. Afterall, he was complaining of a sore throat, kissing me all up in my mouth. And I let him.

Hee haw, hee haw - Simone is a donkey. I know.

In other events--- #4 is thisclose from being kicked out the door. Lemme tell ya'll what he done did.

So, the last evening I was there I took my sister and him out to dinner since it was her birthday. After we finished eating, my other sister came up there w/her homeboy. Let's call the homeboy Sprite.

Because he's a thirsty ass mafucka. And I do not like the Sprite in him. :(
(Details to come later)

Anywho...so everything is cool, I walk off to the side to chitchat w/my crazy ass sisters, and Sprite stays at the table w/ #4. Both of them are on their phones, so I aint paying it no mind.

Eventually the waitress comes w/ the check, and I'm short the cash and they don't take debit card. So I asked #4 if he had the money , $740 Jamaican; which is probably about $5 US. He tells me he didn't have it, and what irked the shit out of me is that I knew he did because he was paying for the taxi to take us back to the hotel and to take him home. It wasn't even that serious, cause I would've given it back to his cheap ass. So Sprite takes out $1000 and gives it to me. Needless to say I was EMBARASSED. So everyone leaves and #4's cheap ass and I stay there since it was on the beach. I would've left his black ass there too, but the craving for dick was too strong.

I know, I'm a bitch in heat. Sue me.

Anywho, we gets it poppin' on the beach. This I did not plan for. Let me tell ya'll what I had on and you will understand why:

• A fitted tshirt


• some jeans


• my vintage Valentines Day Uptowns


• and under this lowkey get up, my Flexees girdle.
  

We'll call this segment of the blog:
Monie Gets Caught Out There Again- Reasons to Add More Situps to the Workout- A Short Story

My tummy is not flat.

*lone tear roll down Monie's left cheek*

It is the hardest place for me to lose weight, probably due to Cortisol and me being a stressbandit. In the meantime as I'm on this weight loss journey to go from a size 10 to a slender size 6 I opt to wear weight control "intimate apparel".

I'm talking girdles, ya'll. And Spanx too!

I have an assortment of these intimate apparel, and I hold them dear to my heart. My favorites are the Flexees because they reach all the way up to your bra strap so there's no backfat hanging out. I love my Spanx second best. I like to call myself a master of the girdle. I even know how to pee without taking 'em off! However, I haven't mastered fucking with them on. And here lies the problem.

Now, the Flexees girdle looks something like this, without the leg part.


Sometimes I even put something like this over the girdle or my spanx:

Why?
Because I'm a sucker for looking neat in my clothes. I don't like seeing bulges and rolls here and there. It's not cute. Yup. I said it.

"Pop off!!"
(Lls-- gotta love that Tanisha)

Anywhosit...usually if spontaneous trolloping should ensue, I'm somewhere with a bathroom so I can slip in there, take off Fantasia and Alexandria (my girdles) in private; give Pocahontas a bit of a wash, and get my P-poppin on. There's nothing sexy about undressing and taking off a girdle in front of a man. Plus men are sensitive and can't really handle that. They will have all kinds of questions, and you know I'm not in for the talking when it's time to get it crackin'. So for the sake of everyone involved, I de-girdalize in private.

Now while we were on the beach I was able to finagle the sitchy-ashun by standing behind the chair we bought out to the water. I just pulled my jeans and girdle down with one firm grip. That part wasn't so bad. The hard part came in trying to make sure I didn't put it on backwards. Luckily this did not happen.

Usually I have some kind of how-to for ya'll regarding donkey situations like this, but I haven't come up with a skill set to finesse taking off a girdle in front of a man. If any of ya'll know how, please share.

The End.

So anyway.... let's fastforward to the ride to the airport.

My sister and Sprite came to take Sissy Dear and myself back to the airport, and on the way to the airport Sprite starts telling us all how while he was on his phone #4 was on his phone talking to some chick, calling her "baby" and when the girl asked where he was, he said he was at work. I
*gasface*
I'm not even really pissed off at the fact that #4 is talking to other chicks; this is something I would have to be a dumb ass not to know, but for him to do it infront of other people.
More embarassment on top of the cheap stunt he pulled.
Needless to say, I wasn't feeling this situation. I was so sick from D'Piglett after flying and all that, that when he called me I didn't have the energy to ask him about it so I told him to make sure he called me the next day so I could ask him something.

He calls me the next day and I asked him about it ever so casually, like I didnt have a care in the world. He gets quite vexed saying how the girl he was on the phone with was one of his co-workers, and everyone calls everyone babes in JA, and that he never told the girl he was at work and it sounds like my sister and Sprite just want me to be with someone else, possibly Sprite.

I didn't even push it, but he starts acting funny style to me like I did something to him.

*enter my imaginary drag queen Trannyque; she got somethin' to say about this*

No, no, no bitch, that is not the way it goes. Monie ain't in for all that!

*snap, snap, neck roll and exit Trannyque*

So yeah. for the rest of the week he was being quite short with me. One time he even came out his face and told me he didn't really have anything to say to me and that I should go to sleep or do homework because he's about to go do some "man stuff". I was so in shock that I couldn't cuss him out properly.

So I read his trifling ass via text; something along the lines of I'm not feeling his fucking attitude and that I am not the one to chase after no nigga, so if he doesn't want to be bothered, cool. He called me that night and I didn't answer. I had my sister call him back, pretending she didn't know his number and to tell him that I was out at the club, which he hates. Now he's all apologies and niceness. Whatever. He can go blow in the wind. We live too far from each other for him to be a thorn in my side. I need this nigga to understand he is vacation dick. ugh.

And I don't even know who/what to believe because Sprite been calling my phone trying to holla at me AND CALLING MY SISTER TRYING TO HOLLA AT HER as well! And I found out that nigga is married. Needless to say, I throw him to voicemail.


Homewrecker, I am not.

Homewrecker is she though...

Hehehe, I know.. I'm a bitch.

So that's what it is for now. I'm gonna be really scarce for weeks to come. Coursework is a beast!

xoxoxmonie!