ummm....yeah

so, I have been avoiding addressing this for quite some time because when I first saw it, it pissed me off and upset me so much I didn't quite know what to do with myself.

when I was on vacay, moms and I pulled up next to a bus that had one of the most obnoxious ads I've ever seen. in my own defense, ordinarily, I have a real sick sense of humor and will laugh at some of the strangest things.  I try not to laugh at the sick, wounded, or physically broken, except for fat fuckers, but I am that bitch that'll laugh when a kid busts his ass, or when someone trips on the bus.  

ordinarily, the tongue in cheek, the ignorant and the stupid is amusing to me.  like the Western Union ad beloved and I saw yesterday. it had one of the blackest mo'fo's you've ever seen in your life looking like everyone's stereotypical African sambo with the words "can I send money to Africa for cheap....YES!" scrawled across the  picture. if i'd really felt like jumping up on my NAACP soapbox and protesting this shit, ('cause my president is black you know?) I prolly could've....but I just don't really care that much anymore about racial ignorance and cruelty.

the ad I saw with moms, really fucked with me.  it read:

Some of the NICEST people die of lung cancer.  We hope you won't be one of them. www.demandacatscan.org

there was no picture. no fancy layout. just a bullshit few lines of text that really irked the fuck out of me. I found myself wishing that whoever the dickhead was who made this ignorance up was struck with every kind of cancer imaginable.

I know it is a bad thing to wish cancer on someone.  I've lost a few family members to cancer so for me, for someone to be so flippant about it is really stupid and insensitive.  One of my grandmothers, who never smoked a day in her life, wasn't exposed to toxic chemicals or any of the other shit they say can cause lung cancer and who went to the dr.'s office once a month at least, died of lung cancer that no one found until it was too late and she was the nicest old lady anyone could've met.

fuck demandacatscan.org and fuck Keiser Permanente

I had an epiphany on the train today.  I realized why so many couples are miserable and unhappy with their relationship. 

Technology, that cold hearted bitch, pulled an arrow from his quiver and sliced Cupid's throat open.  

Romance is on life support and I blame electricity. 

There are far too fucking many ways to be in constant contact with the rest of the world.  Cell phone, house phone, email, text message, instant message, blackberry instant message, pagers, two way radios, facebook, myspace, twitter, blogs, skywriting.....

Everyone of these intended to keep people in constant contact and giving updates to everyone about everything that happens in your day. But what really happens is each one of these media of the heartless equates to one more way for someone to feel neglected or forgotten.   

With all these avenues of communication, it is hard to believe that someone may ever actually be in a drop zone or legitimately be busy and unable to answer the infinite ways you are cyber stalking them.

It is impossible to feel romantic or spontaneous or eager to be near someone when you know their every move throughout the course of the day.

"Bobby Lynn is eating a bagel and not caring about carbs."

Who gives a fuck?!

The people on those dumb ass networking sites are not your friends. 

They don't honestly give a fuck about your stupid ass 'cause if they did, they would meet with you in person and share a face to face conversation with you over coffee or a meal instead of instant messaging you random observations from their daily activities. 

Does anyone remember when it was a big deal to call your parents at work?  I used to have to be bleeding from the head to interrupt my father at work.  He would get soooooo tight with me if I called him at work.  

I don't think my grandmother ever called my grandfather at work unless it was a complete and dire emergency, of the burning-house-aliens-landing-and-snatching-our-children variety.  

That form of distance probably sounds bizarre in this day and age, but when he got home from work, they did something most of us NEVER do....

They would kiss and hug and share dinner with their children with the TV off. They would act like a family. Laughing and talking and sharing conversation with each other.

Why don't we have anything really to talk about over our meals? 

Why is it easier to congregate in front of the TV and chew with our mouths open instead of sharing delightful anecdotes about what we've been through?

I don't think it has anything to do with that ridiculous book and movie about ________ just not being into ___________.  I think it has more to do with the fact that we're all far too fucking into each other and in constant contact with one another.  

Doesn't absence make the heart grow fonder?

How can we be absent from one another when we are only ever physically apart but still completely around each other technologically?

I mean, its all good to be able to holla at your homegirls about whatever random foolishness that crosses your mind, and to keep up with your children when they are away from home or traveling without you, but is it absolutely necessary to call your honey as much as you do?

Is it because of distrust, or because you genuinely have that much to share with whomever?

I know a gang of you tried to say it's cause you wanted to let your lover know everything that crosses your mind every time it crosses your mind.  The truth or the matter is you're doing it because you don't trust that when they don't pick up their phone, it's cause they can't so you call again and again and again. 

You call to the point that you become a pest and when they finally answer, the conversation becomes more about "Why the fuck didn't you answer the phone?" instead of whatever it was that you originally wanted to share.  

When did it stop being ok to not want to talk on the phone?  

I mean, just because you can get in constant contact with someone, does that alleviate them from the right not to want to be in constant contact?

What happens when you start updating your facebook status less and less and everyone gets worried about you 'cause it's been 2 days since you last logged in?  

When people start policing how long it has been since you last instant messaged them, claiming to be worries about you instead of calling you to check on you, then you know you have a technology problem.

Everyone needs to get over themselves and stop fucking being so much in each other's space and face. Take a breath and just live life in the moment and in your own skin and not worry so damn much about what everyone around you is doing.

Hang up the phone, close all of your networking sites, and the next time you feel like paging or texting someone you care about, write those thoughts into a  letter, and save it, along with all of your bullshit stories about your day to share over a hot meal with the tv off.

Or you could just buy one of these for his ass and never have to wonder what he's up to:

www.roameoforpets.com

If I only lost my brain...

RADAR, one of my favorite magazines folded, again, and since i had already paid up my subscription, their publisher felt like a good substitute was to send me STAR magazine for the remainder of my subscription.

have ya'll ever read STAR? 

it has become a glossy magazine in recent years, but once upon a time, it was a big oversized color newspaper-like publication with some of those stories about alien babies and watermelons that look like the virgin mary. 

but have y'all read it lately.  when it comes in, i feel like i should hide it because just reading it makes my vocabulary suddenly feel stunted. like, for real....looking at the pages of that magazine, 'cause you can't really read something that has everything in title font, makes me feel like I should be riding on the short bus. 

in spite of this, it seems like the photos splashed across the pages are all anyone can seem to talk about.  I found myself today trying to discuss Obama's stance on educational reform, and someone felt like it was more interesting to chat about the surprise season finale of the bachelor where Jason proposed to one girl but really loves the other girl.... "and OMG, we were gonna find out on the top secret reunion special, but they totally leaked the info before hand..." 

I realized then that I was too smart for much of the world.  Soooooo, I have decided to actively lobotomize myself through reality tv and tabloid magazines.

I need to expand my reality tv horizons!

Donna Summer's #1 Fan told me that on the season opener of Keeping Up w/the Kardashians, Kim was taking pictures of herself en route to taking her sister, Khloe, to jail. 

(insert confused Scooby Doo sound here)

see...I had no idea it was going down like that on E! i miss out on all the good shit.  thank g-d for my dvr.  i will never miss another glorious moment of the Jenner-Kardashian clan's tomfoolery.

back to STAR magazine.....

why is everyone still so concerned about lindsay lohan?  what's the big effin' deal about her 

anyway?  honestly, who cares? 

so what she's back on drugs and drinking again... apparently, she's been photographed with traces of a white substance lining the rim of her nostrils and she tried to say it was lint.  shorty, just be real and admit what you're up to....or at the very least come up with a better cover story.  

boogers, maybe? everybody's had one of those lone boogers that has dangled embarrassingly and drawn the attention of someone you really didn't want to see it.  

don't front for me, you know it's happened to you.

who gives a shit that she's gay for play and letting saMAN..that...ronson slobber on her pink taco?

why does any of this matter in the face of all that is going wrong in our society?

why is everyone acting surprised that LiLo is out of control again?

what else could she do to stay relevant? star in another movie that she slows up the production on before it tanks? get bent in a club with her mom? 

(I swear I'd make a killing if I created the Gypsy Rose School of Momagers: How to Stagemom With Style, Finesse, Class, and an Iron Fist. Some of the bitches really forget that to be a Momager, you have to first be a Mom, and not your lil'shawty's bff....)

shouldn't she be in vh1's charm school or some shit?

whatever happened to that reality show that The Donald was supposed to be putting together with LaLohan, Amy Crackhouse and pre-comeback-Britney?  Can we put forth a motion for Lily Allen to take her place? ooooh no....Kate Motherfucking Moss!

I'd love to watch them go at it over who gets the last 8ball or figure out who's turn it is to take out all the liquor bottles in the trash. Chile, the trashy ass bar scum they'd bring home after banging in the alley would so be like outtakes of the HBO biopic GIA (Loved Angelina in that before she became the white incarnation of Josephine Baker.)

PS Samantha Ronson is not fucking hot.  

In fact, she is the complete antithesis of hot.  She is sooo unhot, I wouldn't let her eat me with YOUR pussy, a tongue vibrator while stoned and drunk out of my skull and if her saliva had the antibodies I needed to live forever and cure AIDS and cancer.

we're supposed to take solace in the fact that this lesbo's coat rack of a "lover" (wink wink) is not wasting her$$$ on drugs, but rather that people are gifting her the cocaine. 'cause that's what real friends do.  

friends don't let friends pay for drugs.  

who the fuck can afford to sponsor someone else's habit in this fucked up ass economy we're living in? can they hook a sister up? 

NO FOOL!

I do not toot that powder...I'm always trying to get my side hustle on.  I'd take all that free coke and flip that shit so quick, you'd swear I was a gymnast!

Donna Summer's #1 Fan claims that a)"that mess is pricey" and times are too hard for anyone to buy coke so I wouldn't make much from it and b) that's why people smoke crack.

to that I say: I've got baking powder, what's good?

just when i thought i was being original....

DEAR READER:

i regret to inform you that my social experiment has been called to a close due to lack of originality.  by no means was this lack on the part of the so-called network....come, come now... we all know that there is not one drop of originality on that "network." no my friends, the lack of originality came from yours truly.  

i know, i know.  

the horror, the horror.

you're probably thinking to yourself, 'self, how is this possible? she's such a witty girl. i've had to start wearing depends when i read this blog at my office desk.' 

i know, i know. 

believe me, i am so sorry to disappoint.  

aside from not being sure if my insurance would cover the partial lobotomy i would certainly need to purge all those awful and trite images from my mind, tragically, in conducting my social experiment with BET, i realized that Huey Freeman, from the Boondocks, had already beat me to it. 

 i totally forgot about the feud between MacGruder and the BET execs over his oh-so-accurate portrayal of the network. 

hmph and damn. 

 i guess it's all for the best.  after back to back episodes of judge hatchet, i couldn't cope anyway.  lord help me if i tuned in to the evening programming!!!

(though i must admit, frankie cole fascinates me. MAN DOWN!!)

she's like a grown up version of a Flavor of Love girl gone completely wrong. i love it.....but only in small doses.  

there is good news my darlings....

i did have an epiphany today on my way back from vacay.  as i flipped through the pages of some gossip rag i picked up at the news stand at union station, i realized how many celebs were unfaithful in 2008.  i also started to think of how many of my friends and colleagues shared similar heartache and heartbreak with me about their personal situations last year.

it made me curious....

when i got home, i looked into what year on the chinese zodiac last year was, and sure enough, it was the year of the rat!  

no wonder so much ill shit went down last year....everyone was acting like a rat bastard.  

often times, chicks will say their dude is a dog or dudes will say their chick is a bitch.  i can't remember the comedian that said it, but that isn't an insult.  dogs are loyal.  

no, it is far worse to be in a relationship with a rat, as so many people learned publicly this year.  rats, unlike dogs are not loyal.  rats are only out for self and only out to fulfill their wants and needs.  

(sidebar: i saw a rat crawling behind a trash can in the village a week or so ago and thought i was never going to stop screaming.  mice are bad enough.  at least they could pass for a pet, but rats?!)

so in addition to being selfish muthaphuckas, rats are nasty and gross looking too. but it all made sense to me that the zodiac was affecting people's moods and behaviors so severely.  i read my horoscope daily and am often found typing the zodiacs of others and sending them out via text.  i like to see how accurate them things pan out to be.  

i had no idea how much the very year could affect the planet on the whole and have people out acting a goddamned fool!

think of how many relationships crumbled publicly.  

(i'm talking to you swizz beats....damn is it really that good miss keys that you had to become a homewrecker to get it?  eeww.. personally, i can't imagine wanting to steal the bastard child of gonzo and skeletor from his wife. the thought of him making an "ohhh face" actually made me throw up in my mouth a little bit. who'd've thunk it? alicia keys as somebody's OW-Other Woman....damn!)

think of how many companies broke down and hustled each other out of everything they had.

(every single last one of you'd better check your 401K to make sure that it didn't go to pay for someone's booty call trip to aspen.)

think of how many people are losing jobs, houses, money, a basic and decent quality of life 'cause of some shit that popped off last year.

think of how pissed off you spent the bulk of 2008 'cause of something someone else did.

this year, the year of the ox, is when everybody needs to dig their heels in and say they aren't gonna take this shit anymore.  

i feel like staging my own version of that scene from the movie network.  you know the one i'm talking about, right? where that old dude stands up and says on national television 

"I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore."

we all should be mad as hell.  every last one of us who was somehow affected by a rat bastard should be mad as hell and channel your inner ox.  

anyone who somehow got screwed in the year of the rat, even if it is something small and petty like your barista CONSTANTLY making your nonfat tall latte wrong every single day.

open your window lean out and say 

"FUCK THIS SHIT! I'M MAD AS HELL AND I AIN'T GONNA TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!!!"

or, we could just declare martial law and start beating the shit out of anyone who has been fool enough to live a wrong life.  

imagine.....that snippy bitch at the hostess stand and all snippy bitches at hostess stands around the world would get pummeled with one of those goddamned pager things that let you know when a table finally becomes available.

or better yet, store clerks at club monaco who wanna act like they're working at the fucking prada store and be bitchy for no reason other than because they work in a monochromatic environment...those mu'phuckas should get strung up by the costume jewelry and turned into hideous chandeliers.

or how about all the exes who really thought they were the shit with their wack-a-do lies that you only believed 'cause it was easier than fighting?  

how about someone give every 2008 year of the rat bastard cheater a thwack in the shins with one of those collapsable metal police batons....then make them date the hostess bitches.  

anyone who was wronged in 2008 should be able to march up to the rat that fucked them over, and launch into a screaming tirade in their face to which the rat may not respond, but must sit there and endure it.  upon finishing the screamed speech.  the rat will be given a pair of rat ears that they must wear as they walk around the world.  not like the cute shit you get at disney world.  these have to be gray and hairy and dingy and smell like piss.  something must be done to punish those who took the chinese horoscope to literally.

those donning the hats are allowed to be pummeled with no notice. they have to wear the hat for one month for every person they fucked over.  guess what big bankers,  you'll be wearing those hats FOREVER.  

i think that sounds fair.  were i a rat fuck i certainly would be motivated to live a better life after having to smell like piss for a month.  how funny would that be to see the media darlings on the red carpet with their elegant suits and gowns and their nasty, hairy rat ears? 

lisa rina and joey fatone would approach celeb x on the red carpet.  celeb x is of course thinking that they are going to be asked what they're wearing and if they're excited blahblahblah.  then joey whips out the baton and tonya harding's the celeb.  

on camera.

then they move on to the next rat bastard.

that shit would be so fucking awesome.....words can not explain.

so if you were somehow hurt or wounded by someone in 2008, let the world know that you are not going to take any shit from the son of a motherless whore ever again.  stick those ears on the fucker and let the insults rip until you don't hurt anymore.

just don't come for me. i may be an evil bitch, but i am not, nor will i ever be, a rat.

PS I hit hard.

fucked up, ain't it?

so, i'm on a lil' vacay for a few days escaping the city that never sleeps for one that seems to sleep often.  

there is, after all no place like home.

i packed up and took off with far too many clothes and a suitcase that has seen better days.

lucky for me, i came home at a good time.  managed to check in to la casa familiar at a safely drama free time.  mom and step pop have been extra cool.  my bro has been laid back.

vacay has been what it is supposed to be, a relaxing jaunt that allows me to be a total slug and not have to do shit other than think about myself.

yesterday, mom wanted to take us out to brunch to this lil' trendy spot that she loves going to for happy hour.  upon arrival, i swear i felt like i was back at home suddenly. the pretentiouslil sawed off first generation american twat who was standing behind the hostess stand tried to catch a 'tude 'cause we were a few minutes late for our reservation. then the bitch proceeded to try and make us wait for like 15-20 minutes when there were several tables available. 

 moms wasn't feeling it and spoke to DA MAN when he came over to the podium about what was going on.  suddenly lil homie found a table to put us in.  shorty @ the stand tried to fling her hair with mucho 'tude like she was doing us a favor to seat us.  what the fuck is up with people working in a service position and being tight that they have to provide a service?  

yo, get your fucking GED, flash that green card and maybe you can get a job at a real restaurant "up norf." bitch was acting like she was working at del posto or some shit.  relax, change your tampon and loosen up your bra. reach for more in life and maybe you won't have to be such a cunt for the rest of your life.

so basically, what could've been a nice lil' family outing got tarnished by this broad being miserable 'cause she can't afford to eat where she works and moms feeling guilty the whole meal from bringing us there.  i was chillin' once i got my latte and my french toast with strawberries. lil'bro wasn't as happy and started drawing dead aliens on the table cloth.

fucked up ain't it?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

mom dukes and i went out late in the day today for an adventure in suburbia to run errands and pick up a better suitcase at the mall.  

we went to an old old old school italian spot to bust a grub before battling with the president's day sale hunters.  my mom raved about this spot and talked about how much she and my other bro loved the relaxed atmosphere and the authentic old school feel.  we were the only peeps in the spot for mad long.  

the food was decent, they gave us free white pizza, and we were having a fairly good time just enjoying each other's company.  just as we were finishing up our meal, i looked at the wall and realized we weren't alone at our table.  

naw.

crawling up the wall was one of the extra's from joe's fucking apartment.

yeah.  there was a pregnant fucking roach climbing the wall next to us.  tell me how i'm not supposed to want to vomit behind that shit? 

fucked up, ain't it?

my mom, a woman with a hyper sensitive nausea trigger beckoned the waiter and merely pointed at the wall where lil' homie was crawling away.  the waiter looked horrified and apologized.  before taking our plates, dude actually had the gall to ask us "are you done?"

WTF did he think? 

mom sat at the table looking like she was about to cough up a lung and i went to the ladies' room to see if i was gonna blow chunks.

when i came back to the table, dude brought us free spumoni.  moms asked for the check, and turns out he comped us for our inconvenience. 

moms then felt bad and decided to leave dude a healthy tip for his trouble.  

if i wasn't already teetering on having an eating disorder, i certainly am now. 

fucked up, ain't it?