Ok, I’m late seeing this shit. WAY late. But, hey…it’s not like we’re being tested or anything. I was just realizing how not only had I not seen Spiderman 3…but, I haven’t seen the first 2 either. SO, I decided to watch the 3rd installment anyway.
I was sitting here watching it, and I saw how Spidey’s suit became black. It was infected by some sort of organism that draws from the “dark” side of people’s pain. So, dude got infected by the blackness and next thing I know…he’s dancing and got this swagger. He’s macking chicks, throwing “the guns” at the ladies on the street. He’s playing the piano which I assume he’s never been able to do before. He went STRAIGHT BLACK. LMAO
He’s in the club, where his lady MJ is singing and he just busts in on her act…almost P Diddy-ish. Doing acrobatics and sliding across the floor. Just losing his damn webbed mind. So, I was thinking…what they tryna say? A fool get “infected” by a lil black and all of a sudden he’s P Widdy in this bitch? Pelvic thrusting outside and throwing his mojo around? Going around kicking people’s asses for the hell of it like a projects’ bully?
Ok, I’m a lil sleepy…and I may have trauma from the hair fire. Excuse me, while I nap. LMAO
This is about feet. My girl and I were talking earlier and she mentioned that a friend of hers was glad she didn’t live with a guy, because her feet smelled like popcorn. I was like, ewwww…what in the HELL? And why do people with stank feet always smell like a snack product? Doritos? Fritos? Popcorn? *getting sick* DAYUM! If you are what you eat…PUT DOWN THE SNACKS! LMAOO
Anyway…I told her if your feet stank like all be dayumned you need to do a foot regimen. If your feet stink, you need to figure out the root cause and do something to fix your “understanding”.
Personally, I don’t have naturally soft feet. I can admit that. They’re not like Myra’s either from Martin…looking like I have on shoes when I’m barefoot. No, they just require a nice buffing from time to time. I soak my feet a lot, because I like them CLEAN! LOL I’m anal about it. I have my orange sticks and make sure I get the cuticles clean and under the toenail. I like the foot soak from Avon. I don’t know what it’s called, but that and the moisturizer and renewing cream…are good. If I don’t have that on hand…Johnson’s Foot Soak is good. If I go ALL home remedy, I WILL use a combo of regular body wash (usually Dove or Dial) and sea or kosher salt. My mother has this cool salt soak from Carol’s Daughter that has lavender in it. That is a nice soak, too. I love Miracle Foot, also. When used daily, it can heal calloused, hard or cracked feet. It’s about $10 @ Wal-Mart…otherwise it’s about $14 elsewhere.
Even if I don’t get a fancy schmancy pedicure, I still like the feet to look cute. Even if I’m just rocking clear polish on trimmed toenails. It’s better than looking like I just got through battling in a kicking contest with a cliff. Well, that’s my tidbit. I wanted to tell you folks (men and women alike) Take care of de feets…esp. if you have Diabetes or are Pre-Diabetic. It’s of absolute importance to care for your tootsies.
Without further ado…I give you the scene in Martin’s show where Sheneneh had to “go to work” on Myra’s feet. LMAOOO
I was watching “Real Chance at Love” and these hoes done lost they Rabid Ass Rabbit minds! For those that don’t know, this is a reality show spun off from a spin off. Real and Chance are brothers who both vied for New York’s love….who once…no TWICE vied for Flavor Flav’s love…who was in love with Brigette Nielson. *phew* Now, that you’re caught up…
WHAT THE WILLIE BO BO IS WRONG WITH THESE SILLY HO HOES?
Chance, challenges his “stable” of chicks on their “love” for him…buy having them get tats for him. One chick gets a “K” on her neck…and her own name doesn’t begin with one. HIS real name is Kamal. One chick is getting the word “Stallionaires” on her shoulder which is the trademark the 2 brothers share for their music company. Now, there’s a chick they call “Rabbit” who actually ISN’T out of her mind and gets a Chinese symbol. She tells him it means chance, but it really means love…now THAT hoe is smart! LMAO
I know people get tattoos for people all of the time. Love makes you do ignorant shit…I’m sure we’ve all been there at one time or another…but, this takes the cake. FIRST of all, I am not marking my body for NO mofo. I barely wanna put my own name on me. (Even though I’m considering an alternative and getting Kiwi) but still…to do this for someone who hasn’t even chose your ass yet is outdamnrageous! What if this dumb hoe loses? Then she’s got a K on her ass for as long as she CAN’T afford to have it removed.
I mean, the prize ain’t even money…shit. It’s THEM negroes…and we all know what happened on all of the countless “love” series on VH1. EVERY LAST ONE has broken up. (Because they need to do a part 2 for ratings) So, um…do you know what is wrong with these people? Can someone tell me that “I” am the one inhaling noxious fumes…cuz this be some BULLSHIT! Would you do this for someone? Have you? Don’t be scurred. LOL
I started and restarted this blog a couple of times. I was gonna write on some ole boring shit…work cliques, to spin off the blog about the bus gang my mother rides with. *smdh* I was going to write about something funny…then something intellectual. I just can’t. I’m talking around the real issues that I’m dealing with daily nowadays.
In the past I was VERY reluctant to speak on a personal tone. I’m sensitive and I don’t like justifying or excusing away my life or my feelings…so rather than open up my wounds for the salt rubbing…I didn’t blog ME. I sit in awe of the ladies and gentleman who managed to put a personable side to their entries. Allowing us all a glimpse into human behavior and condition…if only long enough to make it ok to be normal…or not.
Lately, I’ve been trying to repress feelings of hurt and betrayal and disgust by putting a smile on my face. It was me trying to deal with the situation with class and dignity…believing if I didn’t show a bit of emotion, that I’d be ok. The reality of it is that I’m pissed. I’m hurt. I’m confused and I’m tired. I’ve always tried to be the strong one. For family and friends alike, I’ve always tried to be the cooler head and breath logic and calm into crisis and chaos. Being strong takes strength…and that strength comes from being replenished. Thank God, that I thank God and not man for that…because if I had to depend on MAN to make me stronger I’d melt into the floor.
I decided a while ago, that I’d be more personable. Bring more of ME into my blogs. Not just my intellect, humor, perspective and kiwi swagger *wink* but, the vulnerable side to me. The frailty of me and how at times no matter how much I know…that I too get lost. That I am capable of doing rash things in order to make sense of pain…and that I make mistakes. I want people to always see ALL of me and not the pieces of me that are nice and sweet. I want people to know that I can be a bitch. That I can be a brat. That even I have hypocritical ways. Yes, I too say one thing at times and do another. Anyone who feels like they never exhibit negative traits gets a hearty laugh from me. We all at one time or another place ourselves above a situation and aren’t willing to admit when we’re wrong. I’m no angel, but damnit if I don’t try to be above board at all times…so, when I’ve been done wrong…especially unnecessarily, it bothers me. I spend a long time working it out in my head for my own understanding. I know that I will prevail. I always do. I’ve been through worse…and my faith in God and my own strength have been the valiant horse that I’ve ridden into the sunset. Yippee Kai Yay &#*@!
So basically, I’m no longer deflecting from what’s really going on with me. I too bleed and hurt…and YES I can do all of that with the same class and style it takes to be reserved. ALWAYS a kween of the highest order.
`My mother has a car. A 2007 Toyota Camry to be exact. Candy Apple Red…NICE! She doesn’t drive it though. Go ahead and credit that to the screwed up economy and gas prices being REE DICK YOU LUSS!! We live in NY and I’m sure most of these Northern states were hit hardest by the price gouging everyone experienced. Well, my mother decided to start busing it. She began way back in the summer and hasn’t started driving again quite yet, even with the prices for gas returning to normal level.
`Perhaps its the gang…yea, the gang. She’d been talking about her “peeps” for a minute. A motley crew of sorts that add up to some funny stories. Some dude name Kyle who has a psycho for a girlfriend (so everyone’s been told) who tends to let her beat his ass at home, but he’s bus-thugging it when he’s with the gang. Cussing out of control only allowing my mother to censor him. (She’s an ordained minister). Then we have “Caint Do Right” not to be confused with one of our 360’ers “Kain’t GET Right” *Shout outs to Jazz*. Now they call her “Caint Do Right” because she’s supposedly the WHORE of the crew. Looking for cat daddies to handle her bizness. Too funny. My mom claims she’s the leader…and I’m tempted to believe her. She says they “fight” over her and where she’ll sit. “No, over here…” “Why she gotta sit next to you? She don’t wanna sit there”.
`I was crying laughing at this shit. I was like, is this what happens when you get over 50? You join rogue bus gangs and talk smack in the front of the bus? The highlight of the day is when you get on the bus in the morning and afternoons? The hell? You become the den mother to a bunch of misfits on a bus in need of some attention? Or perhaps…being that she’s a minister…this is God’s way of helping her help others. A traveling “special-in-a-yellow-bus-kinda-way” angel. Sent to make an impression in some everyday folks’ lives. Journeying on the #17 bus everyday, squished between folks, dispensing the Gospel under the guise of a ring leader for the Notorious Bus Riders from Peekskill.
*throwing up a P* PEEEEEK-SKEEEYILLLLL
My girls and I met up the other weekend. We were SUPPOSED to get into some make up, but we got sidetracked with some drunkenness. LOL My sister and I have been in love with make up for a while. My sister has a professional make up brush set from Chanel among 2 other sets and we love make up from NARS, Cargo, MAC, and even the mainstream marketers like Loreal and Revlon. We love colorful stuff and like to switch up looks, but I haven’t been wearing much make up lately. So, I’m excited to get back into the girly stuff.
I’m kind of hoping that my artistic flair for colors and drawing will branch off into some really cool looks for me and the girls. The weekend after my birthday (1-10-09) we’re supposed to meet in NJ for a slumber party. I haven’t had one of those in a while. The hostess, Ms Curvy Queen herself is having a Mary Kay party and we’re to extend it into a girls’ night. Soooo, I’ve been looking for cool sites that talk about make up (especially eye shadow) and give us a few ideas.
So far, I’ve landed on a couple of sites that I found through my friend’s site. [FUNG’KE] [BLAK] [CHIK] There, I found two sites (so far) which seem really cool. Pumps and Gloss and Clumps of Mascara. I’m still reading through the blogs, so who knows what cool stuff I’ll learn. I’ve also began following diva on a dime. Butterfly Effect (or BE as we call her) has been watching video tutorials on Youtube for application. We’re gonna help our butterfly sister, Curvy find her make up swagger. MY swagger is about to get SICKER (b/c it’s already pretty sick) LOL
I’ll be sure to chronicle the hotness that is Keys/Kiwi 😉
Someone bestow the “JACKASS of the Year” award to *drumroll* KWEEN KIWI! Why? Well, because I caught my hair on fire dammit!!
What had happened was…I woke up about 40 minutes before 1:20ish…to some STANKNESS! First, I heard a small yelp…then I smelled the funk. Yep…those EFFIN skunks that took up residence near my house in our yard, sprayed some dumbass stray animal. So, since Pepe LePew did his job “protecting” the yard I got up to light an incense. Well, I’ve been scatterbrained lately…ya girl is holding said lit incense in hand (I hadn’t even blown out the shit yet) and decides at the same time to scratch her head (all while ruing the fact that I didn’t buy more of these particular incense sticks). All of a sudden…I hear a WOOSH! (the sound of a BBQ fire being lit) and I realize OH SHIT! So, I began patting out my hurr (while yelling HEE HEE…ok, I’m fudging it) but yea…I pat the hurr and feel okay that I’ve put it out. I actually am STILL holding the incense stick, so I place it in the incense holder. I step in the bathroom, which is right by my room…and look at my hair. It’s not that bad…but, I can see the singe. My hair was brushed back and then then held up inside of a clip…so the tip of the hair caught fire as well as the front. I just took it out, combed it and clipped it back. LMAOO
I WILL be washing my hair tomorrow to get rid of the smell of burned hair, praying to GOD that it all doesn’t come out in the wash. LOL
At least I managed to get rid of the skunk smell…I just replaced it with the new scent “HURR AFIRE” *takes ass back to bed*
I love Love & Basketball. As I sit here watching it for the umpteenth time, I laugh at the opening scene. Young Monica shows up on the court wanting to play with the boys. They’re not sure at first if she’s a guy or a girl until they allow her to play and she removes her hat to reveal long hair. They’re not impressed until she kicks their asses in 2 on 2 b-ball! He gets so riled up that he pushes her down, hurting her. She from then on rocks a scar on her face…almost as a badge of honor that she whooped his ass! HA!
`Made me wonder…how long does this behavior continue? How old do you get before it’s unacceptable to beat a girl up because you like her? Well, you know…not BEAT her ass…but, treat her like you don’t care about her out of pride or fear of rejection. Even when the two characters grow up from 11 to seniors in HS, the boy still shrugs her off like she’s not good enough. Possibly it was her tomboy persona…but, mostly it seemed like it was the fact that she was better at ball than HE was. It took ole girl, coming to the dance with a FINE ASS college dude (played my play husband, Boris Kodjoe) for him to even notice her. All of a sudden, he was interested. *rolling eyes so hard I see Noah working on the ark*
`What pissed me off about this movie was when they were in college…he went through some drama concerning his parents and expected for her to sacrifice her chances at starting…which could take away her dreams…all so he could say she was “there” for him. Then because he was angry, instead of telling her how he felt…he asked another chick out on a date. Oh wait, he even asked his HER to come along! WTF? Aw hell naw…WHAT THE FLYING AIR BALL? So they broke up and spent 5yrs apart out of his assholishness. AND, when they DID reunite…it’s because SHE fought for them (in a game of 1 on 1 of course).
`What is it about boys…then some men who are too prideful to show how they really feel about a woman? Or perhaps its that some boys didn’t become men at all. Either way, I think its interesting that games are still being played way past adolescence into pseudo adulthood. But, alls fair in Love & Basketball, right? Riiiiight…
we was vibing
kicking that cool breeze shit
feeling that ooh wee shit
high off an ethereal feeling of
all that jazz we scatted
making beautiful music shit
your voice…the trigger to my smile
and the flips that got my center riled
all good but too good
hadn’t happened in a while
coulda sat me on a cloud
propelled by a wisp of breath
the way I
or was it minutes
envisioning me on your chest
taking you in
invading my sense
sinking into the comfort
of being sent
I had these ideas
that morphed from
the feeling of being cool
to feeling like love’s fool
a burning yen to get swept up
off the hunger we kept up
greedy for time
but I shoulda just f*@ed you
I had to go and like yo ass
see past the differences we had
I got high off the shit we shared
and how when no one else cared
we gave a damn
everyday ways faded like close shaves
us flowing like 360 waves
mellowed from some old school shit
stepped up for today
us in the present
with sighed inflections
that we could if we wanted
be what we wanted
I shoulda just f*@ed you
cuz at least
if I’d just said in my head
girl…he not ready
he’ll never hold steady
you’re seeing what you like
daydreaming at night
thinking…damn, he aight
so why am I thinking of him
like he got the right?
we bonding, but its not unique…
or is it?
and these fleeting flights of fancy
bout a boy
romancing a woman like me
getting past his own shit
to be what a man should be
I shoulda just f*@ed you…
I could get that temp fix of flesh
with the momentary belief that we mesh
long enough to breathe you in
with a little sin
we’d get it in
hard and fast
too fast for lust to leave
and love to last
and I could boot that ass …
and send you home
so, you wouldn’t be living in my heart
yea… I shoulda just f*@ed you