Get on the good foot...

In honor of the eve of New Year's Eve, and with all the crappy crap that sucks, I'll take a page out of the James Brown Bible NIV: I Got You (I Feel Good) Chapter 1 Verse 2,

"I feel nice, like sugar and spice I feel nice, like sugar and spice So nice, so nice, I got you."

Okay really I still ain't got nobody, and I don't feel that got dayum nice (especially with no liquor in my system), but well it's all about optimism! And what better place to start feeling optimistic than at the start of a new year. It's the time of year when you metaphorically get to wipe your slate clean and start over.....(before you eventually fuck it up within the first few weeks, but hey it feels good for the time being!!)

So anyhow, I guess I'll share some of my resolutions with you...and see if they go uphill or downhill starting day after tomorrow.

Let's cross our fingers as I attempt these following things this year:

1. Begin a meaningful career.

• Being as how I've graduated a full 4 years ago, enough time has passed for me to have gone to school and completed a second Bachelors degree. Dandy. Yet within this time, the only time that I have actually used my degree was sort of in Japan when I taught English. (but truth be told, I didn't need my degree to excel at that job)
• And since I have allowed law firms to slowly suck the life out of me for rough 3 of those 4 years out of school, I refuse to go back!!!
• Lastly I'm a writer. I write. That's what I want to do. The degree says Creative Writing (and communications)...so dammit I'm gonna creatively write, and communicate...you hear me??

2. Apply to grad schools.

• Yeah, I have intentions of getting there, but I worry about my grades and recommendations, and my writing, and my personal statement, and hale, and Miami snow storms, and chupacabras, and everything, and nothing that has to do with the applying process.
• I'm a procrastinator and I need to just do it already.

3. Stop procrastinating.

• Yeah, this one's on my list every year. Here's hoping I don't fail on day 1.

4. Lose some poundage.

• This one's another old standard. I pretty much lost a lot of it in Japan, but I can stand to lose a few more.
• So this entails running or some sort of exercise, which I kinda loathe to do, but I've managed to do it before, I can do it again.

5. Engage myself in a successful relationship.

• This one is contingent on finding a dude that vibes with me as much as I vibe with him, and someone that I can view as my equal (and being a hottie with a brain, great conversation & sense of humor, and good skills in the sack won't hurt either...*wink*) Though it seems that a lot of guys my age aren't ready to settle down, or don't have their shit together, I can't assume that they're all that way. Something's gotta give.
• I've been single for a loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong time. Yeah, single-SINGLE! Like, going on 3 years....tomorrow...kind of single...I kid you not. Like I said, something's gotta give!!

6. Keep this blog going.

• Yeah I get lazy. (see resolution #3) But I've been good so far.

7. See Maxwell in concert.

• Black Summer's Night besta be coming out SOON!

8. I don't know I'm trying to force this thing to ten, but I'm out of resolutions...and well, since 8's like an infinity if you turn it sideways, so let's just pretend that they go on forever and ever so I can make up some new ones as I see fit within the year!

How about y'all?? Of my dozens and dozens of readers...what resolutions do y'all have?

wah-wah-wah...

...feeling like Charlie Brown. Good grief.



I got a fricking speeding ticket today. Add it to the trash pile of bad luck for me lately. My streak is over.

I haven't had a speeding ticket since I was a junior in college, and that was off some foolishness too. I piled up my roomates (plus one) into my small, Nissan 200sx coupe. And the five of us were riding on down to the Walmart on Apalachee Parkway to suppliement our aparment on our meager college student means. And there was this car next to us looking like they wanted a race...and being as I had a sporty car, and the inability to resist a dare (much like Marty McFly), I revved up my engine........

.....and as I pulled past the sucker, this sucker was pulled over.

Damn po'-po's.

I wanna start a petition to round up all speeding ticket officers trying to make quota, and put them in a Ben Stein lectured traffic school room, for-EV-VUR....FOR-EV-UR....FOR-EV-VUR!!!

Who's with me???

In the 5th your ass goes down...

So goes my life in this moment.

I went from having "everything" to "nothing" (well, it's all relative, in more ways than one). My life in Japan, far different from my life now. If before, I said that I was entrenched in a quarterlife crises, then its current condition is critical and on life support.

And I need out.

I've always been self-reliant. Still am. But it seems that for me, life has to back me into a corner for me to move full steam forward. It's the procrastinator in me that requires that heart-pounding, bullet sweating, "oh-shit-am-I-gonna-fuck-up-or-pull-through" inertia. I thrive on it, usually, and I'm needing it now. I have these feeling of sinking, and though I need a floatie, I'd rather drown than become a charity case.

And even though Marcellus Wallace would tell me, "That's pride, fucking with ya. Fuck Pride! Pride only hurts, it never helps," in this case my pride is what'll pull me through.

It has to.

Chim Chiminey, Chim Chiminey, Chim, Chim Che-ree...

So at the club I roll with a moving, smoking chimney.

Yeah, while I was gone for almost a year and a half, my home team crew, picked up this black n' mild habbit. I'm neither pleased nor amused, but they're my friends, and I don't judge them (except when we're engaged in some hardcore clowning of each other).

You, see if it's one thing I hate, other than dudes ripping my arms out of their sockets the minute I get into the club, and dudes who wanna be your club boyfriend for the night because you danced with them for a song, that NEVER ONCE ask to buy you a drink (NO NEGRO you don't get to roll with me), it's coming home smelling like smoke.

But yeah, yeah...I know it's part of the territory. People smoke in clubs.

Question #1. Clubs : Smoke ::

a) Weed : Marijuana
b) Winn Dixie : Shoplift
c) Fucking : Your Parent's Room
d) dogs : cats
e) Fuck you : I don't do SAT analogy test questions anymore!

If you, picked any answer other than b) then you're not the dork that I am...(anyhoo, I digress).

Yeah, so as I was saying, my girls are now club smokers. What they've explained to me is that they get a buzz from the nicotine, and that it in fact enhances the buzz felt by the liquor. And while the thought of enhancing anything that feels good sounds appealing, the image that smoking (black n' milds, especially) portrays, is not.

I've become like this prissy "white girl" (<----hence my nickname amongst my crew) who can't just have fun, with the perpetual stankface because I can't breathe. And, it sort of feels like the classy crew that I roll with, has now been in fact TARnished by tobacco.

Anyhoo, they're my girls, and I'll just accept my chimney sweep position in the rank and file, and keep it moving. And as my boy Dick Van Dyke once sang:

"Though I'm covered with soot
From me 'ead to me toes
A sweep knows 'e's welcome
Wherever 'e goes."

What'chu readin' Palin??

Everything.

So hopefully that includes this blog right cheeeere! (But of course that's just wishful thinking...."wishful" in assuming anyone reads this.)

Actually, in having a conversation with one of my best friends yesterday I've come to a kind of sad realization....for me. With the exception of my professors, who got paid to do so, NOT ONE PERSON (family or friends) has ever read most of anything that I've written. I've heard them spout (brag??) to others about my "talent", and how great of a writer I am, but ask one to recall a story, a poem, a blog...they'd lose that final jeopardy question.

So says my girl (paraphrasing): "But you're so guarded, that maybe people don't want to seem like they're intruding. And you never know if they want to read, it if you don't ask them to read it."

And I say, yes that's true, but no I won't buy that with a food stamp card.

Chew on this pipe for a second: If a family member or friend was in a movie, would you not want to go see that movie? If they were painting a wall would you not want to steal a glance?? Hell, if they were in a 10 second clip on the news, would you not wait up for the 11 o'clock update?

And then answer me this: Would they have to ask you to do so?? My guess is maybe, but probably not.

I get it...reading is boring. It's difficult. It's the kind of art (yes ART), that doesn't come to you easily; in fact, it must be saught to be truly enjoyed. If it doesn't come with pictures, half the time, even I think twice about whether or not I want to bother. But it doesn't make it less important, or even less enjoyed.

So that's what makes gets me discouraged, when it comes to pursuing this career. It's not that I don't feel needed...Barnes & Nobles (for the time being) ain't going no where...it's that I don't feel WANTED.

Big difference...and maybe Sarah Palin, in trying to have been the first woman vp, knows a thing or two about that.

Guess who's back!?!

yawn...as if anyone cares...but well I do this for me I guess...

I've been "back" in more ways than one: Back in the states, back on the sceen, back to the wall with my gangsta lean....

Yeah, I'm back. And broke, and in need of finding some sort of employment. I left Japan, thinking things would be cake, but yet that was over a month ago, and I've only gotten ONE (Yesssir, count 'em O-N-E!) interview request. And I'm kinda like, "What the fux?" But then again, I'm trying to do this writing thing, and being as how no one's really read my shit (more on that later) I can't really expect them to be banging down my door, like groupie hoes backstage at a rap concert. Ya know?

But, I'm fully entrenched in a mini quarter-life crisis...having turned 25 (the Remix) and being 4 more years to 30, I'm more than aware that I have to get on the ball before I end up one of those people that are still confused about life when they hit that all important era of their lives.
(30 is the new 20 my eye!)

1) At thirty you ain't supposed to be allowed to sleep until 1:00 pm, just 'cause you're to tired to get up from a night of tequila shots, smoke-filled rooms, and grindin' up on men/women.

2) At thirty you can't be living up under your mama's roof, still working at Walmart, and only paying your car note, cell phone bill, and maybe the cable bill...y'know to "help out".

3) At thirty you can go off about your bid-naaz, without alerting the child(ren) you have that you're gonna get missin' for a few...

Frankly, there's shit you can get away with at 20-something, than at 30-something...by then you're just an irresponsible, fuck up beyond repair...as opposed to a plain ol' irresponsible fuck up who needs to get their shit together.

Granted, I'm not there...nor to I plan to ever fall into that former OR latter category, but the thought of that scares me. But I still have a few things on my side.

1) I already have my Bachelor's Degree.
2) I have no kids.
3) I have no family/relationship drama to deal with.
4) I'm cute....(right???) *wink*
5) I have goals and drive and talent.

That should put me where I need to be, me thinks so that in the next four years I'll be sittin' pretty, making that cheddar, and laugh about how scary and fun my 20s were.

Last Time...I'mma huh???

What’s the hell’s going on inside the mind of Trey Songz? He currently has one of my favorite songs out, and despite the fact that I’d sing this shit in my bathroom mirror with the same pouty, conviction as Mr. Songz himself, the first few lines of that song has me seriously scratching my head. (though you MUST check out the rest of the lyrics...game-spittin' poetry) Anyhow, he tells his “jump-off“ that he’s in effect, “jumping-off” by telling her verbatim, “This has gotta be the last time [that we fuck]. It’s gonna be the best though. I promise.”

In the eloquent words of Lil’ Jon…..WHAAAAT!?!?


Who falls for this kind of foolishness? I know it’s just a song and all, but dammit, I know that somewhere, at sometime in the history of being the second (or even third or fourth place) chick on the side, there was a girl who symbolically scrubbed her face off the floor, while simultaneously dropping her panties. And you know what…because this has worked before, some audacious asshole will try it again, and it will work….again.

Sigh…ladies we have got to do better…

Like An Albino Alligator...

...or



I'm fucking pale!! I don't think I've ever been this light-skinded ever in my life. It's so bad that my boobs are the same color as my face. Worse yet, no one can "gimme five on the black hand side," because they wouldn't be able to tell which side it is!!

Where's my summer sun, dammit?? I need my Brazilian glow back! Not this "gecko-esque" look that me (and my homegirl) are currently sportin'...

Who can resist a man wearing Kitty-chan (Hello Kitty) paraphernalia?!?!

Surely not I!!





You're telling me that you aren't able to see all that fine, manliness that's lurking just behind the Kitty-Chan surgical mask, beckoning you with those dreamy eyes?!?! Really? Not even if you squint real hard, and tilt your head 45 degrees to the left?? No??


This is one topic that I've been wanting to spill all about...the men in Japan. I read somewhere (like on some serious legit shit...not just foolishness I made up to create "facts") that Japanese women were the mostly likely of all races to date outside their own, yet Japanese men were the most likely not to. Hmmmm....now what does that say about Japanese men? More for me!! (once I can convince a few of them to see the deliciousness that is my caramel ass right here)...**lickin' my chops, and furiously rubbing my hands together, while trying to stifle back a mischievous cackle**

Okay, no for real, I can understand why Nihon-jin (Japanese guys from Japan) guys get no love...it's because, frankly put, they look like girls. **Think I'm joking, take a look at my exhibits below. And since they already "allegedly" ain't working with much (if y'know what I mean or what ya girl Condi means) it's easy for them to be mistaken for one. And I for one, ain't tryna pretend that I'm bumpin' coochies with another girl....uh-unhh! (weeeeeeell, unless that coochie is attached to Salma Hayek...then maybe I'll have to make an exception...j/k...I'm still strickly dickly!)

Anyhow, though I'm getting used to the "androgynous" look of these "guys" I can't say that I don't continuously find myself shocked by the level of comfort of their feminine side. And you too can be surprised!



Ex. #1: Popular J-Pop "boy band" Smap!





Ex. #2: Some "dude"



Ex. #3: Some girly man in Harajuku

Ex. #4: A girly man-band in Harajuku

Ex. #5: A devoted "boifurendo" carrying his girlfriends purse, and wearing complimentary Disney hairclips at Tokyo Disneyland



Ex. #6: The Hello Kitty house shoes (the black ones near the open door), last seen worn by a guy entering my local 7-11 (I kid you not!)


Oh, but there's so much more!! I'll have to re-up this post with more field photography...keep checking back...

Procrastination mixed with Hesitation is the work of the Devil!!

Yeah so I've slacked off...so I'm appologizing to my dozen (okay more like donut holes) readers out there...y'all know who you are!

I just be overthinking this blog-shit sometimes, and I don't know if I really wanna write what I'm thinking because I have a hard time making things short and sweet. And I'm only a bit of a perfectionist when I write, and I read, and re-read, and edit and re-edit, until it's the perfect part witty and smart. (<---I'm sure I'll re-read and edit what I just wrote in a few hours anyway). So needless to say I haven't posted diddly-squat. So, I'm jumping back on that Rodeo-Pro (man I wish I had one for real!!) and I'mma get to typing out some mo' fun reads for ya!! Gomenasai!!! (Japanese-speak for "I'm sorry!")

There's No Place Like Home...There's No Place Like Home...

Okay so I'll throw my two yen into this on-going debate, because it's super imperative. It's been known to tear apart friendships, cause sleepless nights, and divide a nation of people. No, I'm not talking about Obama vs. Clinton. Uh-uh, that's an important topic for real journalists and serious bloggers to tackle on another day. Today, it's another unspeakable "war", one in which eventually you have to take sides:



vs.



Oh, yes my friends....right now your minds are already turning...you're already drawing your lines in the sand, daring your friends with sideways glances to toe the other side...are you with me, or are you against me.....or are you just one of those losers who proclaim ignorance of either, so you remain like Switzerland planted firmly in the middle surfing wikipedia or watching videos on youtube?

First off know that I'm a member of both of these websites, but my loyalty lies firmly with one of them. I don't know if that is an indication that I typify the stereotype that goes along with identifying with that site. But know that there are stereotypes on both sides. Very Republican/Democratic-esque.

Fuck it...I'll come out and say it because you'll see my bias in a minute anyhow, so ain't no use denying my red-headed cousin with the lazy eye. I'm a MYSPACER....4 LYFE!!

Fact of the matter is, I really can't stand facebook sometimes. And it all stems from their uppity, 'wannabe' exclusivity. Yeah, once upon a time, even before I discovered myspace, I was a facebook reject. I found out about the shit all hella late (like the last scragglers at a frat party, tryna get in before all the hunch punch runs out). And just like anytime they're giving away free alcohol, I wanted ins! Unfortunately, I was about seven months removed from serving time at FSU, and since student emails get cut off six months out, I no longer had the neon colored "wristband" to get in on the goods. After a few futile attempts to re-establish my FSU account, and prove that in fact I did attend college AND graduated, facebook just kept slapping me in the face with a "HELL-TO-THE-NAW"!

So, I shot 'em the bird, told them to fuck off because I didn't want no part of they stankin' ass party no way....likka's prolly all watered down anyway, and y'all be doing the same tired dances, so I'm scraaaight. (Alright dammit I was really pissed off, sad like, 'Why y'all don't want me?', but hey what could I do?)

Run straight into the open arms of myspace, is what I did. They didn't judge me based on whether or not I'd attended college or any of that nonsense. They liked me for who I was, for what I brought to the table...they didn't just like my doggystyle! I had friends y'all...a top 12 (all the old heads remember that you couldn't get more than that)! I could customize my page and freely stalk...ummm....err....browse people's profiles. Myspace was growing, Tom was inching in on his first trillion friends, and frankly myspace was taking over...making people lose sleep, neglect their children, and lose their jobs! It was an amazing time...*sigh*...nostalgia...or as the Japanese say "natsukashi".

That is.....until those people over there at facebook (who are those 'people' anyway??...at least Tom's gotta face) realized that nobody cared about their bougie site, and started to relax their criteria for admission. Yeah, they came back to me, with their tails between their legs begging me to give them another chance. "Please come back," they said. "We're sorry. We've made a huge mistake. Boo-hoo-hoo!" So I had to tell them, though not quite as eloquently as Whitney, to kiss my ass!

And I stayed anti-facebook for a HAWT minute...until I came to Japan, and I found myself in a land with no friends. And the friends that I did try to acquire were on that other side of this political divide........*gasp*......they were facebookers! So I reluctantly crossed over into enemy territory to keep in touch with these people, who despite this affliction, I actually liked. And slowly, I started conforming to the ways of this new site...and I shudder at the thought....started liking facebook. Hey, it was a new affair, and I felt dirty for liking it...I was cheating on my husband with the hot guy from college that rejected me....initially it was wrong...but yet oh, so right....until....

...I finally woke up out of that stupor, and starting noticing all the little nagging things that I just couldn't get past. Like, why e'rrybody and they mama gotta know that I was talkikn' shit on s0-and-so's page, or posted some crazy comment on someone's pic....stay out my bidnaz mang!! Or why they gotta make it so hard to look at people's profiles? How do you expect me to make random friends?? Hell, I can't even search for old classmates (that I don't all too much care about) because I'm not in the damn FSU network because I STILL don't have an FSU account. Or, why when I wanna try out some new survey or application, I gotta add that shit to my page first?? I don't need a 1001 applications to my already boring ass page. AND THEN on top of that, why you tryna Jehovah Witness me into harassing my friends to add applications, just so I can access the one I just added?!? 'The fucks up with that?? AND, AND, AND why, oh why, must one need a regular wall and a 'Super Wall'....is one wall not enough?!?

All I know is I've had enough...facebook's too full of themselves. Just like a bunch of uppity Republicans, that think they're better than everybody because they're all "edu-macated" and stuff. And, Lawd knows I don't care for no republicans (save for my mama, and a few of the misguided Nicaraguans who still vote republican for some reason).

Sure, myspace is more "Democratic": accepting the less desirables like pedophiles, welfare mamas, 10-year old chicken heads, and my ex-boyfriend, but dammit, when you add up the sum of all it's parts, it's all about the people....and that's where I call home. Gimme my bulletins, gimme my layouts, gimme the browse button with customizing features, and most importantly (gimme $2) gimme comments that "Show Me Some Love".

Finding Bones and Catching Boners...

So I'm losing weight y'all...and I'm finding bones in places I never knew existed! (Get your mind out the gutter, because I have yet to find one in my dusty old catbox.) But almost every other week I'm feeling shit, like, "Hey is that a rib?"..."What's this, a clavicle?"..."Dare I say it, a jaw bone?"

See, the thing is I've never been skinny/thin/Mary Kate Olsen. Hell, I'm not even close to skinny now, but I had been eating my fair share of Krispy Kremes, Moe's burritos, and a few Cinnabuns over the past few years....mmmm. And well yeah, I got fat! Super fat!! And though I might have still been smaller than some....well put it this way I'm only 5'2 and I put on about a quarter of my weight in the span of like two years. No babies, or secret abortions were to blame....just a straight up love to eat deeeeee-lishis shit. Sue me!!

Anyhow, before I came to Japan I had already lost about 30 of the fifty pounds (yeah I said it...Hawaii 5-frickin'-0 lbs!) that I put on. And I figured I'd lose some more weight once I got here because I was a little apprehensive about the food seeing as how, I didn't know nathan' 'bout it....and I wasn't all that much diggin' on the fish (raw or otherwise) before I got here. But I got over that, started eating kinda decently, and started shedding poundage.

So before I knew it, I could feel the upper part of my rib cage. Really?!? I got one of those too!? You don't say! Then another day a few months later, I shrugged while looking over my shoulder, and OUCH! Something straight shanked me in the jaw. What praytell was that?! I ran to the mirror, and sure enough, there they were collar bones, with the bare etchings of hollows coming through. But wait (!!!!) AND shoulders too! Not just rounded mounds of flesh?! Actual shoulders. Crazy talk! And then there's my jaw...I have one again! Got rid of at least two chins...that's right playa...what'chu know 'bout it?

My new discovery is this bone on the side of my body, kinda right up under my armpit, where one of my back rolls have receded. I don't know what that bone is, but I kinda creeps me out, because it moves when I move my arm a certain way, and I'm not used to all that. I like losing the weight, but there are some draw backs, like excess skin and losing fat in places you want it kept like my boobies :*( And besides, I'm not trying to get all crazy skinny like:



or



or



or



...wait, I take that back...I never realized how damn swole Skeletor really is...so in that case I don't want to end up like this:

**shudders, mommy I'm scuuuuuuuuured!!**

So I'mma stick to the safe side of "thin"...still gotta have some meat on me mang...I'm still a "big guhl" at heart. And, you don't want me to get all hella conceited on yo' ass, does ya?! Oh no, we don't...don't need another Mariah Carey in the world who at the backdoor of 40, still ain't got no shame, flauntin' all that she couldn't have/didn't have prior to the age twenty-five. So I'mma stay humble like Jesus.

Nonetheless, I still got a few more pounds to lose, before I consider myself tight and right...I just gotta up the ante on my workout regimen (meaning I actually gotta start one), and I found just the right machine to help me too! Leave it to the old inventive ass Japanese folks to think of everything. Yeah, check this shit out...




...it's the Bronco Pro, that tones your abs, your ass, your thighs, pelvic muscles, your arms...............AND lets you catch a quick O all at the same time!!! Now tell me you don't wanna hop on this thing and get to masturba----....err...I mean mastering the art of losing weight.

Oh yeah, baby....giddyap!

New Yorkers Ain't So Cracked Out Afterall...

So this morning, I ran out to the "konbini" (that's 7-11 in Japanese speak) to get some milk...and guess what I wore?? No, not my hoochie house shorts that say NOLES across the backside, which sags pathetically since I practically have no ass. I wore jeans, sneakers, and the thinnest long sleeve shirt ever!!!

"Why the hell should I care?", you ask. Well that's because here in Iwaki, it's frickin' 56 degrees and it's a BEAUTIFUL day!! "Whooptie, fuckin' do!", you say. But wait, allow me to explain...

For the past four months, I've been bundled up anytime I decided to leave the comforts of my warm, $200-a-month heated, apartment. I'm talking about, undergarments, wife beater, three layers of sweaters, tights, thick socks, shoes, a scarf or two, gloves, ear muffs and a winter coat. Mind you Iwaki, has pretty "mild" winters compared to other cities in Japan, so it never really got below 20 degrees. But being as I was born and raised in Dade (305 baby stand up!!!), anything below 70 degrees back home would've caused me to duplicate the outfit above post-haste. No joke!!

Have you ever seen what happens when a cold-front passes through Miami?? People plum lose their minds! Everybody's out and about looking like fucked-up Halloween characters dress in any layer they could find. Looking like,

This:



Or this:


Or even this:



Anyhow, so the fact that I could walk outside without my usual 50 pounds of clothes is quite an achievement. The odd thing, though is that I found myself finally able to understand those crazy "snow birds" from New York that used to migrate to Miami every winter.

I would seriously wonder aloud, why in the HELL they would walk around in shorts and a t-shirt like it wasn't damn cold. I mean 65 degrees...you can catch pneumonia! But after having spent my first real winter in Japan, that shit makes sense. Sixty-five ain't bad...it's beautiful! Dammit invert the numbers and you got the perfect 56 degrees it was here today, and I was friggin' ecstatic. So I get it now. New Yorkers, you ain't on crack, you're just finally warm. I see you...we here **doing the Martin eye point"



...just not when it comes to sports and thangs like that...nah'meen son!

Gonna Have to Face It...I'm Addicted to Blogs...

Cheesy, I know...*I hang my head in shame*

But for real, my reason for wanting my own blog, yet procrastinating about it, all stems from my love (read: green-eyed envy) of other people's blogs...call it "blog-envy" or "blogenvy" <----add that funky looking word to your book, Webster! Seriously, I really admire the wittiness and witticisms of the blogs that I've been privy to know. My recent mania all started with http://www.princessmelissa.com, the blog of Melissa Howard from the Real World New Orleans and her post-fame life. This heffa is funny!! Funny like, "Heffa, do you wanna be my friend, and let's roll out crackin' on everybody and they mama because you and I go together like chitlins & grits?!?", kinda funny. (I don't know what the fuck that all means, just roll with it ppl)...anyhow, trust me she's funny. I seriously read her shit from top to bottom (or bottom to top going chronologically from the beginning) over the course of two weeks, during the times when work didn't get in the way of my life....*gosh I miss cubicle jobs for the computer/time-stealing-from-DA MAN-fuckery, that once, just about resulted in my dismissal...oh the shame*...but I digress...I love her blog!

Another, comes from my very own online buddy JzyPhat...I'll forever reference her as such, because that's the name that I first knew her as...anyhow, this bitch here, scraaaaaaaaaaaight be spewing off at the mouf!! Hell no need for ab-crunches, the "belly holding, side-aching, I wanna slap this heffa for making me laugh at some shit, that'll send me to hell, to sit on the right side of Lucifer", laughing will have my gut looking like Janet's, pre-Dupri! She just recently got her blog off and poppin' but I'm digging it like the cheese up my ass...yessir! Check her out at http://savvyfatty.blogspot.com/

So those two, along with so many others have made me want to join this "not-so-exclusive-but-I'll-say-it's-exclusive-so-I can-sound-like-VIPs" club of bloggers. Yet, I do so hesitantly because I have inadequacy issues when it comes to my writing, because I never think it's as funny or as witty or as intelligent as everyone else's whose writing I admire. I always feel like I'm the new mommy who knows her baby kinda ugly, and keeps making excuses not to attend the play dates with all the other pretty babies. I just know I'll get the sympathetic stares, and the empty reassuring words about how beautiful he is. But as soon as I leave the joint, they'll all get together, and say like Shug Avery, "Dat baby sho' iiiiiis uuuuuuuuuglaaaay!" *tears-silent-tears*

But anyhoo, I wanna share my baby with the world, flaws and all!! So sue me! (Please don't, I ain't got no money)

Anyhow, here are a list of some of the "pretty babies" that keep me inspired to think that one day my little Quasimodo can grow up to be Jay-Z (y'know, how Joe Camel was able to pull that magic trick, getting people to believe he's the flyest thing since Jimmy "Superfly" Snuka):

http://www.daitime.com/ (My girl Daisha bringing you some crazy shit from Japan, check her out!)
http://fourfour.typepad.com/
http://stuffeducatedblackpeoplelike.wordpress.com/
http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.wordpress.com/
Perez Hilton and his foolishness

...there's so much more, but I can't be hyping up the winners in this race in which I'm currently in last place...I'm just a turtle tryna catch up!

I'm the Alpha and the Omega, and a whole lotta shit talking in between...

Okay this is my first post...and honestly I don't have shit to say, but this blog has been a long time coming.

I kept thinking that I'd have something profound or poetic to write one day, but I couldn't find the inspiration. And like the procrastinator that I am, I waited, and waited, and dillied, and dallied until, I finally gave in and created a damn blog. Hell I didn't even use the one that comes with a free sample of perfume on myspace. But now, I bit the bullet and blown off my head, and spewing forth will come all the crazy thoughts that leak from my mind on a daily basis. Like, why it gotta be some other heffa named "Kimberly" that's all up under my man Reggie Bush?? Or, how is it that Japanese girls in Japan be walkin' like they have rickets?? Y'know crucial topics like that, that you're dying to hear my opinion on.

Well, know that there's more where that came from...that hasn't even scratched the surface of the bra-rash that I have....so don't worry I'll be back, like Herpes Simplex II, and get all up under your skin...

Happy itching!