Ken's Dream House

Hello readers, this is just a quick rant from yours truly. Being single has it’s advantages just as it’s disadvantages. Sure I love the fact that I can have my pick on who I spend my free time with, that’s always lovely. Not to mention the fact that I can practice the (ode to Destiny’s Child) “when it’s all over please get up and leave” I just have a problem with the drought thing. What’s a girl to do when in drought? This is a tricky thing, drought will have you looking at men that you would otherwise disregard as an “irregular” product headed for the Marshalls rack as if they were that brand new pair of Fall Boots at your favorite shoe store. Drought will have you giving out your real phone number and then cursing yourself when he calls. DROUGHT will have you calling up past lays that you swore off for getting on top of you to do some damn push ups as opposed to hittin that shit like NAS in Belly –


Damn it I want me a KEN doll, Monica your theory has proven to be needed in this here world of ours. I want to apply for a government grant so that I can renovate one of these damn abandoned Baltimore row houses and turn it into Ken’s damn dream house, fuck a barbie house. I wanna stock that shit with Xbox 360’s, PS3’s, Hot Pockets, Laptops, red kool-aid, flat screen tv’s, porn, submarine sandwiches, scarface mixtapes, marijuana, white liquor, dark liquor, futons and tide.

That’s all I ask. I just wanna keep my Ken dolls occupied and rotate them accordingly.


Mrs. B

30 and Under Accomplished

I woke up feeling thirty this morning………

As you all know I neatly tucked my 30 and over club card inside my wallet on this past Sunday. Then came the sulking, not just because I am actually 30 years old – I sulked in honor of the years that have flashed right on by me without recognition. Thanks to the great genes of my ancestors I don’t look a day over 25. I am sure we have all thought back on our childhood and the aspirations that were once a driving force in our lives. Last night I did a little more than think back on my childhood, in a sense I explored it. I sat and thought back to my days at John Burroughs Elementary and how much I really hated damn near everyone in the school. Sure children are cruel and friendships aren’t actually solidified in those years but I really hated the fact that I had to go to this place Monday through Friday and spend time with children that I didn’t quite care for. Don’t get me wrong I did have a few friends, I just would have liked to attend school on my terms. As I am sure all of us did.

I thought about the days on the playground, little instances in the lunch line, the first time I joined the cheerleading squad. The little things, I laughed about the time that I was upset because I had to share my birthday cake with the class. I went home in a tizzy! The time that, well I’ll call him JB used eat my paste in Mrs. Golden’s class… I remembered my first best friend Camille, we lost touch, I wondered how she is doing and couldn’t for the life of me think of her last name. Some BFF I am huh? I remembered having sleepovers with my second BFF Jay as we call her now and how I used to practice doing curls on her hair. I thought about the assemblies and recess, family day and me not having a care in the world. I also remembered my days “down south” as they call it. My fifth and half of sixth grade years in Charleston and McClelanville. The snakes drove me crazy and my dad drove me back home. Right back to the same place like I never missed a beat. I really cracked up at my Jheri Curl years, I actually doubled over in tears.

Fast Forward to Junior High School – good old Taft Junior High School, there were good times like my first out of town field trip, the cheerleading squad, Umoja Dance Team and learning to play the flute. Then there were bad times like my first real fight, adjusting to multiple classes and my re-introduction to In School Suspension. This is where I really started to dream. I wanted to be an actress/choreographer/artist, live in a studio apartment in Brooklyn and be married with children by 35. Well one out of three ain’t bad. I remembered daydreaming about hosting my own talk show and chuckling to myself as I pictured various classmates as my guests. I would go over the questions in my head and envision them giving their answers. I’d do that with teachers and students just the same. My favorite was Ms. Mary. She taught us art. Everything she taught me I would go home and teach my neighbors and little cousins. Kind of like Nettie and Celie, without Mister. I would ask her about her schooling and when she developed her passion for art, stuff like that.

Langdon Park Pool and Recreational center then popped into my head. This is where I met the father of my children. Go-figure. This is where I developed a passion for writing. This is also where my dreams were slowly replaced with forced grown up decision making and real life issues. A dreamer without guidance is like a mobilized car without a driver. Just going along crashing into shit, destroying itself and everything in it’s path until it finally crashes and hopes for the best. I thought back on the many of days and nights that I spent down there. Everything from the teen clinic, the kick boxing club, cheerleading and swimming lessons went through my head. All of the things that one would have though to be a driving force did nothing more for me than occupy my time. Why because I never really appreciated it until now.

Oh the High School Years, whew I didn’t know where to start reminiscing. Hell I went to four different high schools. Those years are somewhat a blur, only because I pretty much went into practicing herbal remedies full time as opposed to channeling my energy into something much more. Again a child without guidance – At this age my dreams had pretty much dissipated. I graduated pregnant and I really didn’t have the nerve to dream anymore. While a small amount of my classmates filled out college applications I was completing Medicaid and WIC forms. Others were off to work while I prepped for labor and delivery. My father was disappointed in me, my sibling contact was few and far between and the father of my child was one french fry short of a happy meal, make that two french fries short. There I was the big dreamer. Literally.

Don’t confuse this as a pity blog, trust and believe I have learned from all of this. I just thought I’d share my thoughts from last night. Of course they were way more detailed, I didn’t want to write a book though. I guess what I want to say is pursue, I am thankful that I am here to ensure that my children pursue and I am also thankful that my life went the way it did so that I can actually break the chain instead of chipping away at it.


Whew that was a long one,

-- Mrs. B

Randomness Anyone?

I woke up this morning and decided that it is high time that I post a blog on here. I really don’t have a main topic or any key talking points, I pretty much just want to get some things off my chest.

Let’s see where do I begin?

Do I start with my expected male bashing or a good old fashioned workplace rant? Should I expose some undercover perverts, shout my love for Kobe’ Beef from the mountain tops, list my do’s and don’ts of fall men fashions and end this with a nice drink recipe for you and your significant other?

Yes you are right, too many questions. Since when have I actually cared what people wanted me to talk about? This here my blog joint and I am just going to fill this post with as much “inappropriate jargon” (I love that phrase) that I can muster up for the day. Enjoy.

Dating When You Have a Child, Girl Child or Boy Child – It Doesn’t Even Matter and the Undercover Perverts That Live Among Us.

This is a scary thing, how in the hell do we determine who is safe to be around our children? Some may say the usual criminal background check or good old fashioned intuition. I say although these methods have proven reliable in the past there is also the possibility of meeting someone pre-pervert, pre-molestation charges, pre-murder rap, pre-robbery conviction etc. Which solidifies the fact that you never really know somebody- For example, I am not a killer but- (you know the rest) and given the situation I may just have someone thinking damn, I never thought ‘ol Shells would have done that person like that. Hence meeting someone pre pervert and what not.

So in the end I say just don’t bring anyone around your chirren unless you are physically and mentally prepared for the trials and tribulations of getting to really know them. Hell all you really need out of a relationship is sex anyway – have casual relations and keep it moving. This way you won’t have the possibility of fainting while cooking breakfast and watching the news when your latest fling’s sketch illuminates your screen while he or she is dressing your children for school. Trust me you will thank me later.



My Love for All Things Kobe’ Beef

Will never end. I don’t care who or what situation shall arise my love for my dear Kobe’ will never cease. I love you and all of your beefiness – shout out to creativity.

One last thing…..

Fall Men Fashions

Should not consist of fitted slacks, jeans, shirts, sweaters, blazers or draws. The only thing fitted should be your cap. There is a fine line between tailored and fitted – discover it and go gracefully my dear Manchild.


Oh and the drink of the evening shall be…..

The BONECRUSHER

You will need;

1/2 oz gin1/2 oz vodka1/2 oz triple sec1/2 oz rum1/4 oz grenadine syrup1/4 oz Rose's® lime juice2 oz sweet and sour mix1 oz Champagne

Combine all ingredients (except Champagne) in a cocktail shaker and shake vigorously. Pour into a tall glass, preferably a pint glass or large brandy snifter with ice, and float the champagne on top with a squeeze of lemon. Throw on your best pair of imnotdoinshit sweats, click on the TV and relax to the sweet soothing images of syndicated television!

Mrs. B

Thirsty Thursday's Drank of the day is

The French Cosmopolitan

ooohh la la we we

INGREDIENTS



1/2 oz Grand Marnier Orange Liquor

1/2 oz Sweet and Sour Mix

1/2 oz Cranberry Juice

1/4 oz Fresh Lime Juice

1 drop Grenadine Syrup





INSTRUCTIONS



Pour all ingredients (except grenadine) into a shaker, shake well and strain into a large martini glass. Pour a drop of grenadine into the middle of the glass and let it fall to the bottom. Garnish with a slice of lime and throw it back! I suggest you make like five of these from the start because martini glasses are small as hell.............. You could go hood with it and pour the stuff straigh into a red cup but it will take away from the ambiance.



Happy Drankin



Mrs. B

TIPSY TUESDAY'S DRINK RECIPE IS

None other than the "Hot Toddy"

Just in time for all this chill that we have "on tha outside" If you are like me and single by the forces of nature you may wanna check in on Tuesdays and Thursdays to get a peek of what you too can cuddle up with at night.

Ingredients

1 oz Brandy, Whiskey or Rum

1 tbsp Honey

1/4 of a lemon

1 cup hot water

1 tea bag <-- I make my own "hubba hubba"

To Prepare

Coat the bottom of mug with honey

Add the liquor and the juice of the lemon quarter

Heat water in a tea kettle and add the bag to make hot tea

Add the tea to the mug and get your Tipsy Tuesday on!

You can garnish with stuff like lemon slices and cinnamon sticks but trust me by drink three you'll jus tbe tossing them back!

You're Welcome

Mrs. B

Three The Aroused Way- you, your man and a pole

According to Wiki a Strip Club is a nightclub or bar where striptease is regularly performed and possibly other related acts such as lap dancing. While usually considered much less objectionable than more explicit adult entertainment such as sex shows, they are often the focus of morality campaigns and restrictive legislation.

High-end establishments tend to be known as "Gentlemen's Clubs". More down-market competitors may be referred to as titty/tittie bars, rippers, nipple derbies, skin bars, girly bars, nudie bars, or go-go bars. Sometimes, they are referred to as men's clubs (not to be confused with working men's clubs). In a bikini bar, dancers typically do not disrobe completely.

With that being said would you attend such a club with your mate?

Why or why not?

I am on the fence with this one and have been for years. Many factors come into play when discussing such a topic, stuff like

Is he or she mature enough to handle this?

Will he or she become infatuated with the ambiance?

Will he or she eventually end up in a back room on either knees or all fours?

Will he or she decide to partake in the festivities right under your nose………………

Then you have questions like will they respect me in the morning? Oh and will this person’s view point of me change once let in on my particular form of recreational activities? Or vice versa..

If you are in fact in a relationship that both parties wish to pursue further than these are just a few of the concerns that may arise. On the other side your union could be one of fun and games where as a triple date with a pole equipped stage may not be so taboo.

Whatever your situation may be the outcome of such a visit is unique to each individual, I mean after all you never really KNOW somebody until certain situations arise. Do you think Hillary knew upon meeting Bill that he would become president of the US and end up getting “in house” head? Did you think that Morgan Freeman’s wife said “I do” knowing that one day MtM, Morgan and the Mistress would end up in a car wreck on the side of the road?

It’s all about growth and discovering your mate layer by layer until you reach the core which can take years or even a lifetime.

You could go to a strip club with your mate just to get a first hand glimpse of how they would conduct themselves in your presence. You could allow your mate to go to a strip club then go covert mission on their ass and catch the real them in action
Or you can shock the fuck out their ass or have the shit shocked out of you when you or your mate takes the main stage while you are supposed to be elsewhere…….

This whole topic is a tangled web and can only be answered in multiplicity. So have at it folks, would you in fact join your partner for tits and ass or six-packs and penises?

Mrs. B

BLOCKED

It’s been so damn long since I have blogged on here, how the hell are ya people? I’ve been working on a new and hopefully “stalker proof” page and it should be up and running soon. Its chock full of great shit too. Meanwhile I am a tad bored with things and I’d like to release some energy into this here universe. The thing is I am blocked, I need some ideas. Feel free to just toss some stuff into the comment section and if anything tickles my fancy I’ll hop on it.

Love Ya, Missed Ya

Mrs. B

Mrs. B's Crush of the Week

Isn't he grand?

Thanks Geico -


Mrs. B

So...... I have to research the "H1N1"

I really don’t follow the news to much. Makes me feel too grown lol……… This whole H1N1/Swine Flu debacle has however caught my attention. I don’t know too much about it, I could google it but why bother I know the basic info. Well I thought I knew the basic info - You catch it you’re doomed. Only prayer and superb medical attention can save you from the fiery pits of hell or the fluffy clouds of heaven…… But that’s not it, there was an actual survivor on the news, she had this same virus back in like ’64 or some shit like that. I was like whatever at first, until JJ Evans referred to it on an episode of Good Times. Yes, call me crazy, but it took a 1970’s sitcom to convince me that there is hope for Swine Flu sufferers.




Just last night I received word that this omen has hit close to home. A child at a close friend/relatives school was “somewhat” diagnosed with this virus. This leads me to the point of my blog -


The less than ghetto antics of the DC public school system

How in the hell could a PRINCIPAL send a voice recording to parents stating that a child was diagnosed with the swine flu and hasn’t been in school since Monday and that the school may or may not be shut down. They will not know until they receive word from the CDC. Oh but please send your children to school on tomorrow, we will send a note home with them regarding the closing of the campus. What the hell does that mean? I could be having a slow moment here but ummm ------- Yeah.

Bitch if you don’t close that mutha fukka down and get some sterilization techniques poppin!



Who the hell in their right mind would send their babies to school when there was a confirmed case of this virus in one of your students? It’s bad enough you don’t know you were exposed until you are chatting it up with the Grim Reaper himself, but to actually suggest that these children grace the halls of your cesspool is absolutely insane. I don’t mean any harm but I can see why Marion’s ass was hittin the pipe! Especially if he had to work directly with someone like you! Man o man he had him a pusher man, some folks can’t take the pressure.

This coming from the same PRINCIPAL that proceeded to withdraw a child that was at the top of his class for four straight years. Principal’s honor roll and all that jazz for none other than ---- poor academic achievement………….. I sure wish I was in line when Degrees were being handed out.

So now, just as everything else that I show interest in once it strikes within my radius I must research this whole H1N1 thingy. I have questions and I really don’t give a damn if my research proves enough to cancel my whole rant, I hate that bitch and she hates me. So fuck her and her dry ass voice messages…….

Mrs. B

Fuck You Friday !

I will be back shortly, feel free to leave your FUCK YOU's in the comment section.

Oh but before I go----

I would like to leave a huge F-U-C-K - Y-O-U to Satan and Co.

Gracias........

Mrs. B

(May 13, 1922 – April 25, 2009)

No I will not go into a long drawn out summary of this truly Golden Girl! If you don't know who she is then you should be shot with a shit gun and killed for stinkin!

R.I.P. Dorothy, Maude, Bea -----------------

Mrs. B's Crush of the Week!

So Orgasmic

Mrs. B

Yeah it's ummmmmm

FUCK YOU FRIDAY!

Take that shit like diddy!

I can't even begin to voice my shit cuz them boyz might just get at me...

Release in my comments

Gracias!

Mrs. B

The Mansplit

Happy Tuesday All!

I have been itching to write a good old fashioned vent blog for quite some time now, I have recently been blessed with the perfect degree of pure Fuckery to get the ball rolling……….. In addition to this cyber temper tantrum that I am about to post I feel the need to ask a few questions. Just to get my queries out into the universe in hopes that some Good Samaritan will pass by my blog and leave some answers in the comment section.

I love men, I swear I do. I don’t want to hurt them. I just want to hug them – kind of like Elmira.

These men out here keep so much shit with them. Half of these bastard children don’t know what the hell to do with themselves. The other half are scared of change and would much rather sit and talk about what it is they want out of life. As yet another decade passes them by they sit and wonder what life could have been. They re-live all the wrong choices they have made from the shouldas to the wouldas as they throw hate at the ones that were bold enough to have a plan and stick to it. You can find one on your nearest corner, stoop, park bench or sofa. (35 years old wearing true religions) Easy to spot they are – just one look into their face gives off that old head vibe, the look of them being the sole human to come from a hard childhood. (The answer for everything) The air about them screams I am the soul survivor of hardships and I fucked up my chance at success therefore those around me must keep me cozy down here. If you listen real close you can hear them chanting the failure of others. You can hear them saying I must stay surrounded by those that are just like me, that way I can continue to justify my failure by not leaving the hood and staying true to my peers. The stench of hindrance that seeps from their pores is almost permanent, kind of like cigarette smoke in your hair. Their mannerisms act out “stay the fuck down here with me dog” without them even moving a muscle.

You can attempt a conversation just for kicks and figure them out by the time your body completes one cycle of blood flow. Psychiatrists say body language aides in pinpointing a lie. Some are so devious as a result of their "upbringing" that they have mastered control of the tell tale signs of bullshitting. They are quick but not as sharp as most. They tell on themselves through contradiction. Their very presence is contradictory. The common line “oh I’m not like the others” loses its finesse when your aura screams otherwise, you are not like the others yet you are a cookie cut of the rest, you want to better yourself without sweating, you want success without hardships, you’re single in a relationship, you have no children but you have two or more kids. The usual. the fuckery, their life.

What about the undecided ones, as wishy- washy as a three year old. I can’t even say a five year old because at that age most children can focus long enough to complete a jumbo puzzle. Going non- stop from sun up to sundown. In lust with everyone out of love for themselves. Selfish for the most part but sweet for personal gain…… No real goal for life, willing to wing it just to get by another day. So stereotypical-Sad I know, so what do we do? We try to coax them into putting that energy and mentality into something worthwhile….. the truth is a necessary pain. It’s imperative in the reconstruction of a stagnant man. Most can’t make it past the realization period and they fold. They tuck themselves inside a 5th of dark liquor or a cigarillo. Would this person think it’s time to quit if they have lived through three eras of roll-ups? These grown ass “keep a nigga” babies gone wrong are really fucking with society. Call it what you want but from my viewpoint the wishy -washiness is a direct result of “daddy wasn’t there” syndrome.

The attachment issues that they hold inside keep them from nurturing others. Its not that they don’t know how, it’s that they only know how when it’s convenient for them. Of course he is going to love you when his ass has no home, the jump offs are hip, his money is low and he knows you’re cooking. That dude is going to be right up in your shit playing house. Don’t get too comfy though because once he deceives his next asset you may forget how he looks for a minute. There goes that drifter thing again. There goes the next woman to be called out her name for scowling at a dude just for saying hi. It’s partly her fault, yeah that is true. In most cases that same woman is an enabler……….. Either way that dude is wrong because more than likely he is on the prowl.

Whew that was a great vent. No for my questions, there are three that have been bothering me for a few months.

1. Why do we continue to enable the wrong type of behavior?

2. Why are some folks so co-dependant that they put up with blatant disrespect on a daily basis?

3. Why do we all have that one friend that you never hear from until their counterpart is messing up and they need someone to talk to?

Mrs. B

One step at a time yall…. One step at a time.

The Side Dish

I wrote this blog months ago, I felt the need to repost this in effort to help out a dear friend of mine that is on the verge of becoming the vegetable of a meat eater………..

So here it goes – this one’s for you girlie!

I wanted to blog today so that I can get some insight on my most recent dilemma. I am sure you have all guessed by now that I have been seeing someone. Well sort of. Let me explain a little about me. I am stingy and selfish, I hate liars and I must get my way. I throw random temper tantrums from the smallest mishaps and I love to smoke cigarettes and drink alcohol. That about sums me up.

This is what I see when I step outside of myself and take a gander at this Sheli person.

Which is why I feel the need to express how I, Sheli, almost ended up as the side chick.

I was on the plate and I almost made it to the table

I mean really, picture me as the string beans! The freaking mashed potatoes and gravy, the corn on the fucking cob, the got damn succotash, the damn asparagus sprinkled with hollandaise sauce, the fucking peas and carrots, the baked macaroni and chee---- wait I don't mind being some bomb ass baked macaroni and cheese –ah hem, my point being – I am the main chick damn it! I don't give two shits about anyone else once I come into play! Call it what you want as long as you call it! My relevance is so necessary.

Let me explain my madness

You may have multiple folks you are dealing with - lets say three. Not necessarily sleeping with them all but these three are the closet thing to you outside of family. Now out of the three there is one that you are head over heels for, the other two are relevant but you really don't care if they ever call or come again, the problem is those are the two that are trying to wife/husband your ass! All the while the keeper really doesn't have time for you. So what do you do? You entertain yourself with fillers. Yes the other two are kept around to compensate for what you want but don't have, you trick yourself into believing they are worth your time. These two combined do everything that you want the keeper to do. Pure misery. Fuckery at it's best. The fillers can do whatever the hell they want with whoever the hell they want but that keeper, oohhh that keeper had better not stray cause then it's gonna be some smoke in the city!

This shit is so fuckin twisted yall, pure selfishness because yeah you may have that one main guy or girl with your fillers on the side and it's fine, because it's you, but man o man why in the hell do you get so fucking pissed when you find out your main guy or girl has a filler or two of his or her own?

Okay on to my point. I started out in this dudes life as filler, which is fine cause he filled plenty 'o nights 'o mine but I'm sayin though, how the fuck you gon attempt to pull the wool over my nosey ass eyes? I know everything damn it! I fucking birthed the next generations Wendy Williams for Pete's sake! The whole no time for Sheli thing is coming to light, either way it goes I don't want to be around for the outcome. Some folks are not cut out for the whole main girl side chick thing because they are weak

Guy A + girls B, C and D = Guy A is chasing girl B
Girl B + guys E, F and G = Girl B is chasing guy E
Guy E + girls H, I and J = Guy E is chasing girl H - And so forth and so on,

A fucking circle. I think I need new shoes

As long as you enter someone's life as filler you will never become the main one. There is always gonna be the one that is truly wanted in the back of their mind and if and when their time comes your ass is gonna be back at the filling station. (If you allow it) It's all or nothing with me, which is totally hypocritical. I can even take it to the whole "do as I say and not as I do thing" Yeah I am having an issue.

I am a woman scorned damn it, there is a mile long list of issues that I have with even the smallest form of commitment. I am sure that dudes have issues as well but I am more important than you damn it!

I need a shrink – I want to vent to someone that gets paid to evaluate me and give me medication prescriptions.

I did a blog about filler once; don't get me wrong they are nice to have. Especially in the winter, but it's when you come across that filler with potential that things get all messy and shit.

I hope this helped - -


Mrs. B

FUCK YOU FRIDAY'S

Good Morning my lovelies! Yes you have guessed it, it is time for another lovely rendition of FUCK YOU FRIDAY’S – all up n through my blog! So umm have at it in the comments section and don’t hold back!

I’ll start with an uber huge FUCK YOU to the inventor of the underwire.

I’ll round it off with a FUCK YOU to the shit for brains that built the password retrieval system for my storage unit………..

She has my number like Nah Nah Knee Nah Nah -

The names in the proceeding blog have been altered in effort to protect the author from going from bank accounts to commissary.

On Saturday evening fuckery occurred and I am not pleased at all. I was chillin-chillin minding my business when my cell phone rang. A foreign number illuminated my screen and the little devil on my shoulder got to dancing. When this happens I usually stifle his ass and go on about whatever I am doing, I do this because whenever he gets to dancing on my shoulder I know trouble is a-brewing. I was a tad tipsy and against my better judgment I let that tiny menace talk me into pushing the green button. Why has thou forsaken me lord? Have you no shame Satan? What I’m gon do yall? What I’m gon do?

I believe I am too sexy – all the boys wanna get with me I’m black Barbie up all night having fun I like to party just like the white one--- (that’s my ringtone)

Inmate # 20018 -Hello

Inmate # 20018 -Hello

Inamte # 20018 - Hel-fuckin-lo

Mrs. Chicken -Oh is this inmate # 20018, this is Mrs. Chicken I have a question

Inmate # 20018 -hey Mrs. Chicken what’s up?

Mrs. Chicken- well have you seen satan? He’s missing

(I chuckle at the thought of me knocking all her fronts out for calling my phone with pure bullshit)

Inmate #20018 -ummmmm Mrs.Chicken is he missing from his mother or from you?

Mrs. Chicken -from me

Inmate # 20018 -girl bye then his ass aint missing then

Mrs. Chicken -but he has been gone for two hours

Inmate # 20018 -Girl what you saying? Even the police wait 24 hours before they file a missing persons report. You are calling me of all people – why?

Mrs. Chicken -well because you his babies momma and he always answers the phone for you and I thought you could tell me where he is

Inmate #20018 -Heifer If you don’t go somewhere and get grown ! why in the hell would I know where he is? What I can tell you is who he’s cheating on you with, call Little Miss Make up that’s who keeps tabs on his dusty ass.

Mrs. Chicken -oh I know he cheats on me with her, I’ma call her phone too but I don’t like calling her cuz she plays on the phone.

Inmate # 20018 -did you hear what you just said when you said it?

Mrs. Chicken -Yeah why

Inmate # 20018 -and you still think it sounds good when said out loud?

Mrs. Chicken- I mean I am sayin I know he runs around and I keep asking him to stop but he wont. He has been not answering his phone for two hours. I know he will answer if you call because he always does when I am with him

Inmate # 20018 – Mrs. Chicken, please refrain from contacting me. Like you were told before Satan is now your problem. I have no desire to contact him unless it’s regarding him playing dad for a few days……. I have no idea where he goes or what he does I do know that you are one of many and he will never change. He’s gonna end up just like his dad and brothers and you are the perfect person to go along for the ride.

Mrs. Chicken –Well I keep asking him to change but he wont, now he wont answer his phone or call me back. He’s probably with little Mrs. Make up like you said earlier I don’t know if I want to leave him alone. I just want you to know that I been had your number.

Inmate #20018 -Let me call the national guard…………

Okay that about sums up the conversation and there is a shitload of things wrong in this blog. Let me point out my favorites.

#1 Why in the hell is Mrs. Chicken snooping through Satan’s phone for my number?

#2 Why in the hell would Satan allow himself to be so vulnerable as to allow her access to his phone? *side note, when satan and I lived together he suffered from wayward penis syndrome, it was so bad that he would literally sleep with his phone in his pocket with his hand on the phone*

#3 Why in the hell would she call me as if I am going to run down his whereabouts for free?

#4 Who the hell drunk dials these days? I mean I drunk text and all but damn!

#5 Did that nut really say that she knows he is running around cheating on her and she “asked” him to stop? Blessed is his name yall because a bitch was about to buy some contractor clean up bags off this one!

Oh and #6 Did this train wreck really attempt to converse with me about Satan as if we were sipping hot tea and nibbling on butter cookies at a corner bistro some damn where?

Lawdy #7 Did she attempt to one up me by saying that she been had my number? Someone needs a sanity test.

I mean I MOVED out of state people….. the fuckery follows….. It’s like the IRS and shit. You can never escape its wrath.

Mrs. B

Don’t pull that out of sight out of mind shit on me either yall-

Mrs. B's Crush of the Week!

Well crushes------

They are soooo ready for the world!!

A Letter To My Auntie

I wrote this a few months back, a friednd of mine just realized what I was talking about ------ I just wanted to share.......

Dear Auntie,

There is no nice way to say this to you, I mean I do respect my elders to a certain extent and I know that one wrong comment to you can make my life a living hell for days at a time. I have to give it to you straight though - because I am tired of tip toeing around "hoping" that you won’t get wind of how I really and truly feel about you. We have been engaged in a love hate relationship for over the last ten years and I have never once been able to voice my opinion to you. It’s like I hate your ass with a passion every time you come around but at the same time I yearn for you when you take too long to come back.

Oh and don’t you even say you have always been there for me, don’t you dare. You abandoned me for over nine whole months during the course of our relationship, not once but twice. The only reason why that was cool was because of what came out of the neglect. Real funny stopping by those first four months as if nothing was going on, Sure I played a part in your absence but that is no reason to try and ditch me like this in my time of need.
Auntie for real I need you right now, I need you like no other. I can’t make it without you, please find it somewhere in your soul to get me through this. How can I go forth with my plans without you by my side Auntie? You know that you are one of the main reasons why I can gather my thoughts to plan for my future. Okay I know you disagreed with me getting that Depo shot because it drove us apart, I apologize for that. From the bottom of my heart I really know that I messed up. You must understand that I had to protect myself in order to be able to get myself on track. I thought we made amends, I guess you tricked me huh? The joke is all on Sheli right now.

Enough is enough Auntie, I need you to get your ass here asap! Do you seriously believe that because I only see you once a month that I will not catch your ass? Hell to the naw auntie, the best thing for you to do is plant your ass in my womb and then get your flow on like no other. Now is not the time for jokes I have way too much stuff popping off for you to desert me like this. The best thing you can do for me is make a cameo, do it for me, do it for the children, do it for my piece of mind. I am borderline basket case right now and the pre Auntie Flow pangs that pierce my side will be welcomed with open arms this time, I swear to you auntie I have learned my lesson and I appreciate you and all that you do for me.
Sincerely,

Mrs. B

P.S. I will even spring for the fancy "equipment" just for you, so please please PLEASE let me see you in the next 7 days, you can pop up at anytime I swear I will not curse you for showing up unannounced.

*** Oh readers, please leave encouraging messages to sway auntie my way****

These Grown Ass Children Are Getting On My NERVES!

What the fuck is wrong with you? I have heard of “bi-polar” and all but umm in all my years on God’s green earth I have never met a “tri-polar” I guess I could use the term MPD, nah, fuck that it’s my blog and I like the way “tri-polar” rolls off the tongue. Yall know Mrs. B will self-sabotage the fuck out of a situation and I can honestly say that I had nothing to do with it this time. All I did was say how I felt, since when is that wrong? I mean if my POV is not cool with you then you need to look up the word my. If from the outside you portray a jay chain smoking, stagnant, hypocritical, no goal having, stuck in the past stick in the mud then that’s more than likely what you are. How dare you accuse me of being misinformed? Have you no shame……….. What in the hell were you thinking when the first lie you told me came out your mouth? As if I were dumb enough to believe it! Hmpf! you owe me an apology! Hell you owe me some extra months on my life span, we can work a deal though, seeing as how I chose to continue to entertain myself with you I am willing to sit down and talk about it-

I am not even quite sure how to approach this whole blog. I know this phrase is over used but “all I can say is wow” I am gonna continue to say wow until I calm down………..


BRB

Mrs. B

I'm So Sorry That Your Father's a Perv......

Hello readers, I haven’t been blogging much since I’ve been so busy handling grown up business and camping out at the MVA. I have tried to steer my blog from the personal but yet again another “Sheli’s Wrong” situation has arisen. I will save you the intricate details and give you a basic rundown of the events. Feel free to leave your take on the situation in the comment section. I mean call me crazy but I am quite confident when I say I can determine when someone is being pervy or not. You be the judge.


Ah hem----

I have this childhood friend and like most childhood friendships we considered each other as family. Well this friend started staying with her dad off and on as she got older and there were many times when I would go and visit. We did the normal teenage things, clubbing, drinking, smoking and calling boys – you know the basics. Our bond grew stronger as we got older and we were somewhat inseparable. Until the worst thing in the world happened, I mean just thinking about it makes me want to earl.

My friend went out of town during the time that I was car shopping and she suggested that I enlist her dad to take me to a few lots, fair enough - we all agreed and it was set. Early that morning I got up and went over to her dad’s house and we were on our way. The ride started out normal, the usual banter took place and everything seemed fine. That is until relationships came up. Keep in mind that this is her FATHER! This perverted invert told me that when I was younger and first started dating he wanted to get a piece of me! Umm excuse? No canvas can hold the emotions that ran through me. To add salt to the wound he said that he even told his daughter this on more than one occasion! Add a rack of other perverted fuckery and there you go ---- I called it, I was right --- that nigga's a perv! I count to ten in three languages and tell him that there was or is no chance of anything happening and I consider his daughter family. He then goes on to say how he could help me legally doop Satan (the father of my children for you new readers) and talking about his weak ass retirement money and shit. What was he thinking would happen? Lawdy have mercy Kelly Clarkson Eddie Murphy I deserve a fucking Oscar. After this being said I managed to get through weeks of being around him but not around him.

I guess my friend noticed the difference. Yeah I could have just flat out told her what happened but like I said we know each other and I was certain that she would twist it to make herself look good. Which she did… go figure. I basically told her that I haven’t been around much because old pervo lives with her now and I am uncomfortable around him. In addition to that I don’t want my daughter around him. Is that so wrong? No I don’t think he would try to molest her. I know that he will sit back and look at her until she gets older then more than likely try his pervish hand with my child. Which would result in mass murders and what not, think about it - who wants to live freely for years only to get life for murder? So me being the plan ahead person that I am I decided to cut the shit off at the pass. No I don’t want to be around her dad ever again in life. Coincidentally he lives with her so ummmm 1+1=2. Duhh I wont be stepping foot in her door.

Just to think back on our teen years up until now, the many nights I slept over at his house. The times we would dress for the club or even lay around the house in our pajamas. The times we would dance to our favorite songs and go on outings together…. This Muther Fucker was having sexual thoughts about me! This girl even went so far as to brush off my reason with an LOL. Yeah that’s maturity at its finest. Don’t inquire about the accusation just LOL and say that I “made up a lame excuse as to why I haven’t been around” Yeah that sounds right I would totally accuse someone’s father of something like this for no apparent reason………..


Mrs. B

Smoke Your Shit

In the history of all that’s holy I have never witnessed someone geek for weed. I was astounded. I have never seen a grown ass man try to cover up weed-fits with petty arguments. I have dabbled with the green wonder in the past but never have I just HAD TO have it. Weed has caused many a man to become stagnant in my generation and I think that’s just fucked up. I was recently awarded the opportunity to hang out with a “weed head” trust me when I tell you the shit is revolting. Seeing as how I live above the influence I was a square amongst circles of smoke, just passing my time away with limited cable television and 7-11 snacks. While this façade of a man re-enacted Dyson infomercials I had time to think about exactly why I gave up the weed.

It was the spring of 1998 and I was a senior at Spingarn SHS. My best friend and I decided to smoke a few jays before heading into school. This was not quite the norm for us as we would usually hit one before leaving my house then one at the bus stop. Which makes two a day. This time we wanted to spice up the fuckery we saw on the daily with a little more than two jays. We hit like two more and headed in the building just in time to be late for my favorite class. One because the teacher was cool as shit and two because my high school stalkee was in that class……. He was such a dream. I must say that was one mission worth plotting on. Wooo-Hooo, anyway this class was so freaking easy to get through, all you had to do was show up, copy some shit down, answer some questions and turn it in. Simple enough right? Well I learned it’s not so simple under a magnified influence.

After being surveyed by our teacher as to why we were late, we settled into our seats. I was nervous as fuck because I knew she smelled the damn weed on us. Amidst me and my homies giggles and snickers I managed to take out my notebook to begin the assignment. I glance over at my homie and she is so enthralled in the lesson that it motivated me to get started. I complete the work turn it in and prepare to stare at my beau until it was time to head out the door. The bell rings and I am asked to stay after class. I’m like shiiiiitttttttt, I knew she could smell the damn weed. I approach the teachers desk, belly full of butterflies and she asks “what’s going on with you today?” I’m like “I’m chilling, how’s your day going so far?” “Cute” she smirks, then slides my assignment across the desk. I pick it up and begin to laugh hysterically. My more than high ass wrote the same sentence over and over again – go figure. She tells me she wants a conference with my father as soon as possible. That one statement changed my life forever. I straightened up real quick and began to hang myself even more by admitting my wrong and begging her not to tell. After a drawn out speech and a river of tears it finally sunk in that weed can make an ass out of you.

Ironically as I sat and watched my real time Dyson infomercial all I could think about was that day in high school……… I kept picturing her face and the writing on that damn page. I felt the same way I felt back then looking at this stagnant ass individual. My head filled with “womp-womps” and images of The Chappelle’s Show. I wanted out and I followed my own lead. My lesson to all - Smoke the weed don’t let it smoke you…………

Mrs B.

Mrs. B's Crush of the Week

Is none other than this little guy


HUNGRY !!!!




Yes I assume he’s a he…….. I like to have comfortable crushing……



Mrs B.

You're Lacking

Hello all, I am fresh from the bat cave and ready to com-fucking-plain. It’s the same fucking thing over and over, history damn sure repeats itself and through comparing notes with my cousin over the last few days I have realized that change comes to no man. I don’t mean man as in human I mean man as in yall mutha fuckers that walk around with your brains stretched between your legs, hanging between balls of Satan. I am not angry or mad as hell. I am disappointed in the last three fucking generations. Pissed off as the place where more than most of yall bastards were bred. How the fuck you gon be in your mid forties with seven fucking children and still be lame as fuck? How in the birth place of you are you going to go from baby one to baby seven and not change nothing but your draws? I swear the same shit different day was derived by an angry woman.

Bombay won the poll and we witnessed straight DC fuckery at it’s finest over this Valentines/I call time weekend. I have to quickly relay the bullshit so that to can be released into the universe further concreting the fact that me and relationships will more than likely lead to a nice cushy box or cell depending on my reflexes.

Situation One

Actually happened on Valentines Day. I was extremely comfortable and content with my most faithful suitor, Sir Bombay Sapphire, when I walk into the pits of hell, disguised as a birthday party for a child. To sum up the evening events, my friend and children’s aunt had a party for her son. Which of course turned into a grown up party. Not in the sense that you are thinking, this shit turned into some old Judge Judy Hatchett-Ephiram type shit. I mean her and her friends actually coaxed three men one of which is her husband into laying out their most recent troubles in front of everyone….. Umm yeah I was sure the night would end in violence. Of course I joined in on the grilling. This shit went from one broad whom we all just met voicing how her “man” is upset because she doesn’t swallow to someone removing locks from his “baby mommas” door to get in and catch her slipping. I swear this shit was you tube worthy… If only I carried release forms and a video camera on my person at all times………

Moving on, I left the “party” only to get a phone call from my friend saying her husband stole the fuck out of her on the balcony and she’s in the parking lot with no keys. Yes I hauled ass back to her house to find out her and her mother had to beat that niggas ass for hitting her and I was too late, or so I thought. I get there and the punk bitch has a nerve to come back into the house….. Use your imagination people…….

In the end I hate woman beaters; they are evil and need to be destroyed.

Situation Two

My cousin has two children by a man in his mid forties that has the mind of a pre-teen. How it happened, I don’t know. Why she stayed with him, I have no clue. Why this nigga didn’t show up to his daughter’s birthday party but came around empty handed after the festivities and promised her a toy then didn’t come around for two days…… DIPPERS!

Get the fuck from the Pentacle and raise your children! You fucked up on five you would think these two would inspire your weak ass. Nope your motivation is the time the dipper spot becomes available. WTF? You old as shit. Bitch you bout to reach retirement and all your eligible children qualify for a mere $84 a month. Where did you life go? Has anybody seen his manhood? I believe it leaked out when his umbilical cord was cut. If you happen to see his common sense and shit laying on the wayside please send it to P.O. Box my cousin makes bad choices 666.

Yeah she saw that he didn’t raise the first five when they met, I guess he got game. The jig is up bastard they are here now. Take a bath and embrace fatherhood.

I could go on and on but I won’t - I have had enough. Fini I am, is that French? Either way I say fuck it….. These bastards will not change. I posted a blog on myspace as to why. I must post it after this. I can say part of the blame is females.

Mrs. B

FUCK YOU FRIDAY

Happy Fuck You Friday to All and to All a Great Day

Feel Free to drop your FUCK YOU’S in the comment section!


I’ll start off with a huge hefty FUCK YOU to the big ass MTA bus driver that decided upon a mid day booty call with my neighbor and blocked like two parking spaces forcing me to park down the hill!

Oh and another FUCK YOU to whoever stocks the poultry at my nearest grocery store. The whole damn section was full of chicken legs and wings! I specifically went in for thighs……


Mrs. B

Happy Posting - - -

A Thousand Words Thursdays

This right here

"YO GABBA GABBA"

Is on the air for everyone to see, even the children (our future)

Come on with your thousand words

Do You Like Boys?

You could just come out and ask. Exactly how honest would this person be with you? Is there a right time to question someone’s sexuality? You could come right out the gate with “oh so you were locked up huh, you prison gay or all out happy?” Would that ruin a possible friendship? Just because you meet someone doesn’t mean you are going to have sex. If sex is the main goal from the beginning then the question answer period should definitely come into play (where honesty probably wouldn’t rear its head) After all it’s just a one, two maybe a three nighter right? How common is it for an in denial PG dude to come out on the first conversation if their ulterior motive is to hit? I am confident in my opinion on the “prison gay” population. I believe if you have done more than a year straight then the odds are against you. IJS. Especially if they were in some maximum penitentiary like setting. So basically if a guy tells me he’s been in for like three years my mind instantly wonders if he’s a giver or a taker. Again, IJS. On to my point for this snippet of a blog

If you meet someone and during the get to know you process their incarceration comes up when and how do you question their sexuality?

I am so nosey that even if this guy was deemed a friend from the beginning I am still going to want to know. If the incarceration outweighs the good then how in the hell do you even establish a relationship? The honesty in his answer will play a huge part in the decision making process. How can you playfully awaken your beau without possibly catching two to the chest? What are the odds of him having a damn flashback and kirking out in the middle of the night? Or even worse what if he is totally honest and gets the urge for man-parts somewhere down the line. I am starting to believe that it is damn near impossible to establish a relationship with a man that has done time. That is so shallow of me, everyone deserves a second chance.

I feel shallow because there are DL dudes that have done no time at all and we go on establishing relationships with them. Most of them have no tell tale signs of what they prefer until you are in too deep. It’s almost as if jail/prison time puts the last brick into the relationship wall. This man could be the best thing to ever happen to someone and because of his honesty he never gets a chance, then on the other hand if he lies then he is dismissed and he goes on wishing he wasn’t so honest.

Catch 22?


Mrs. B

Mrs. B's Crush of the Week

Is none other than

Mr. Daniel Pharr, “The Novice Skydiver is what I call him”

He gets Kudos for sharing the same last name as my ninth grade hottie


Oh yeah and this hot piece, jumped from a plane at 13,500 ft in the air strapped to a skydiving instructor who caught a heart-attack mid-jump and died mid- air. Novice Skydiver then guided their parachute to safety.

Swagerrific, call me?

Mrs. B

Happy Snow Day To All

Over my morning Chai I realized I can relax today. No worries, demolish the chirren with snowballs and poke fun at the city workers clearing snow. Good times shall be had by all yippee!!!! If you are off then enjoy your day, if you are working - sucks for you, I’ll have two minutes of fun in your honor!

You’re Welcome

Mrs. B

What I'm Watching

The Secret Life of an American Teenager

I love this show for so many reasons.

Created by Brenda Hampton (7th Heaven) it covers Amy, a 15 year old high school student that gets prego mid school year by Ricky, an ass of a boy with a disturbing past. She then finds love and attempts to find resolution with current boyfriend Ben (son of the “Sausage King”) LMAO at that. The plot includes everything from a fake ID ring to absent parents trying to sell unborn babies. The cast personifies top flight fuckery and I love it. You have everything from philandering fathers to a kid reminiscent of Corky (Life Goes On) It really sheds a much needed light on family structure and teenage pregnancy in America. This show captured my eye because not only does it cover every day trials it exemplifies the fact that teenage pregnancy is not limited to African American and Hispanic youth. Although this series is based on a 15 year old prego teenager the writers have done an excellent job at incorporating a number of true to life situations into each episode without losing their significance. In doing this a true classic has been born, everyone from tweens to grandma can get something out of The Secret Life of an American Teenager.

There are also few familiar faces in this series; Camille Winbush (The Bernie Mac Show), Jordan Lewis (Just Jordan), Molly Ringwald (Sixteen Candles) and Steve Schirripa (The Sopranos). I watch this show with Lil’ Wendy and we love it. This is definitely a must see in my book. You can catch it on Mondays at 8pm on the ABC Family Channel.

Mrs. B

Dude, Stop calling my phone!

Finally he has gotten the point. I didn’t have to get ignorant with him and my cell phone is at peace with itself.

I met this guy a few months back while out and about with some friends. He was in their circle, a tad young for me and he had long hair, totally not my type. As the night went on the kid grew on me so I decided what the hell I’ll give him my number it couldn’t be that bad. Well I was horribly wrong. This dude is a habitual stalker liar. I believe he believes his lies wholeheartedly. It’s embarrassing even, I am ashamed for his being.

While chatting it up outside of a bmore nightspot he told me he was parked around the corner and if I wanted a ride home he’d give me one. Shame on him to think I would hop in the car with his young ass. I don’t care if he knows my friends, he was suspect. The last time I got a ride from a guy I fell in lust and am still dealing with the after shock. They do that hacking thing here but umm, yeah I am no hacker lol. So he goes on to say how he lives with his cousin not too far away and works in construction, you know the usual first conversation garb and what not. Of course I acted as if I was so into what he was saying in effort to keep him talking. That way I didn’t have to reveal much about myself. You know asking him questions about his work and family life yadda yadda… blah blah blah.

Moving on, I gave him my number because 1. we decided that I could do his hair and 2. like I said, he grew on me. This dude literally blew my phone up for like three days straight. That was the ultimate red flag. I finally returned his calls after I got a message about him wanting his hair done and I agreed to go on over to his house. We had light conversation and in that one phone call his whole truth was revealed. I really didn’t care because at that point it was all about making some money and the lies he told were obviously meant for someone that had an attraction to him. I had to grill him as to why he had so much time on his hands to repeatedly call me, especially during work hours. This boy didn’t have job the first, his ass is a dang day laborer. Getting work at the 7-11 with the amigos and what not. In addition to that he lied about his living situation and car, what he meant to say was that there was “A” car parked around the corner and he lived with his cousin’s auntie.

This dude really expected me to pick him up or give him bus directions to my house! First of all you will never know where I live, I have had one Baltimore stalker and I can do without another. So I’m like what happened to your car? He said the usual oh, nah nah nah blah blah something or other without answering my question. Then I say I’ll come to you, no problem…. I got over there and I swore Whittney was gonna pop from around a corner yelling Bobbayyy! This house was crackish as hell. My comfort level dropped like a whores draws. I faked an emergency and rolled the hell out of there asap. When I say this bamma rang my phone, I mean he rang my phone! I told him on several occasions that I just couldn’t do his hair. He then wanted to get deeper and asked me out! WTF? Where exactly do you think I am going to go with you? He really tried his hand. After awhile I just stopped answering the phone. Then the texts started, the voicemails, the endless ringing that would force me to turn my phone on silent. I even got fed up to the point where I just flat out told him. DON’T Call my phone! The slow fuck still called. I refused to change my number off this mess. I was like yeah this is stalkerish as hell.

I barely even know him, attempted to do his hair once and talked to him maybe four times on the phone…… He must be on something.

I am just ecstatic to announce that it has officially been three weeks since he rang my phone……….. I don’t know what happened but I am sure glad it did.

Mrs. B

Mrs. B's Crush of the Week!

Hill Harper, Because I can, you know I Can – Can !

Mrs. B, Don’t you love it?

FUCK YOU FRIDAY

This Weekly post is an open invitation for each of you to give a huge FUCK YOU to whomever or whatever has been on your last nerve lately.

This FUCK YOU is brought to you by Sunsweet Prune Juice (found at your local grocer)

So that you may let the SHIT go!


I wan’t to start off the FUCK YOUS with a huge FUCK YOU to the common cold! BITCH I can’t taste my food.

And round it off with a grand FUCK YOU to cheap ass Kleenex and ungrateful men – I am tired of running through both yall asses


Feel free to leave your FUCK YOU’S in the comment section


You’re welcome

Mrs. B

Akon is dumb as shit

The hypno-voiced Akon really needs some attention right now. And look at me giving it right to him. He claims he doesn’t know his age. Did he say that dumb shit when he was accused of semi molesting that young chick at that show? I hope he did. I would pay money to hear him sang that shit to a judge………. All that he is good for in my eyes is songwriting, who gives two shits about how old he is? I could do without his voice –hence- songwriting. His voice makes me want to stab people and burn things. Old dude has some subliminal shit going on. Or should I say young dude?

His Aaliyah moment:
"In Africa ... age is not important over there. They don't care. People only focus on it here (America) and in Europe."

His shouldn’t have said that out loud moment:
"All it's going to do is depress me," he told The Associated Press in a recent interview. "I don't want to know I'm getting older. Then I'll start to think about getting checkups and insurance. I don't want that." <---Bitch, you’re a top selling artist without health insurance? You dumb as shit.

His lets see if this sounds as good outside of a courtroom as it does inside moment:
Akon says when people ask, he just gives him a figure that comes to mind. "I feel like I'm 21 right now," he says. "And I'll be 21 for the next 10 years"

I believe he is on the run, before stardom he lived his life as various male relatives.

His I done gon and confused myself moment:
Numerous reports have put his age between 25 to 35 years old. In 2006, he gave his age as 25. But now, he claims his birth certificate shows he was born on April 16, 1977, which would make him 31.

Even though Akon has a birth certificate, he says his age is still a mystery — and he'd rather keep it that way. ----- mmmm hhhhmmmmmm.

Mrs. B

The Plus Sign, The Two Lines, The Pregnant

I want to talk about the selfishness in men. Some say women are greedy and selfish, I say oh hell no! It’s the men out here that want it all and then have the nerve to be stingy with what they have. When starting a new relationship everything is usually cool. There’s the common courtesy, the opening of doors, the massages and the great sex blah blah fuckin blah. Then the glasses come off and the good starts to dwindle. There is no need for me to run down the goings on in the beginning of a relationship. Yall know what’s up. I am here to rant and complain about when the shit starts to go bad. When the lies get to whirling and the cheating begins. The first venture out once he stops opening doors and doesn’t probe for the usual morning quickie quite as often as he used to. The time when what you cook isn’t what he wanted and what you do becomes of great concern. Yeah, I’m talking about when the pregnancy test comes back positive……………………..

Not all but most dudes get to rippin and running once their girl becomes prego. I know from personal experience. Not only my relationship but countless others have suffered from wayward penises. Think about it, before you become prego you are the it girl, you hang out, drink, smoke, chill, live your life – do everything together. The sex is great and you are basically inseparable. This can carry over to the mid months of pregnancy. Of course the relationship has increasingly dwindled by then because you can’t or shouldn’t smoke or drink while with child. You also can’t go out as much because you are growing up in a sense. You feel the need to prepare for baby, you’re tired, bloated, hungry, and irritated – your body is rapidly changing. Things that felt good don’t feel so hot anymore and things that were once irritating may now be what you want to do. During this time where is old boy? Out with the it girl.

You may not notice it at first because you are too busy planning for a child. Slowly the sex dries up, not because you don’t want it, sometimes you just don’t have the energy. Hell, in some instances the sex becomes better. Positions become more difficult. The selfish greedy bastard wants more. What does the average man do….. he forces himself to get cheating right in his mind. Some guys don’t mature with your belly, they are still stuck in doing me mode. Doing them usually involves an us every now and then. You can no longer make up that us and dude is weak so he goes and finds whatever/whoever he can to compensate for the lack of you. Some men are so fucking dumb they get the it girl prego and she joins the first wives club. Then of course they move on to the next one.

Selfish greedy bastards they are. Men. Some may wife up the prego chick, for fucking what? A guaranteed place to live? That’s about all the shit is worth especially when you’re constantly out doing what the fuck you want to do. That shit makes me want to pop up at random wedding ceremonies and scream “who” right after a muther fucker says “I do” This guy is mad at you because you want to clean house instead of lay up all day. So what does he usually do? Run out and find a chick that’s into the same shit as he is…. Then wonder why the chick’s house stays dirty and someone always has her damn offspring! That’s what you wanted right? To lay up all day? Oh what was that? Her house didn’t come with the magical cleaning fairies that ours did? Huh, her kitchen isn’t equipped with the new and improved “Just say what you feel like eating and it pops up on the table 4000?”Damn, it wasn’t worth it huh? The effort that dude put into conceiving the child should be the exact same effort he puts into maintaining the relationship and household.

How the hell can dude have the audacity to become possessive and get angry when shit doesn’t go his way? Really now, when you are accused of cheating off a simple trip to wall mart and target that ran long something isn’t right. This coming from the same guy that goes to the “special” liquor store across town because that’s where his homies are. You know the store that takes at least four hours to go to and get back from….. yeah the “special” one. Oh and please don’t go somewhere and look clean, you’re sleeping with the whole neighborhood! This from a dude that only wears t-shirts and jeans but pops up with the flair of the moment ensemble just to run up the street right quick.

I have been on both sides of the fence. Cheated on and cheated. Neither feels good. I have cheated out of spite from being cheated on. Two wrongs don’t make it right. I missed that memo. I got pregnant and thus began my ordeal, the one mistake I made was allowing him to stay. I guess it happened for a reason, as does everything else in life right? I guess saying wrap it up would be appropriate and what not right about now so WRAP IT UP. In addition to that I want to urge the females to take them oral contraceptives, apply those patches, insert them nuva rings and get those depo-provera shots like your life depends on it! Ironically it does.

Mrs. B

Thursday's A Thousand Words

Welcome to A THOUSAND WORDS THURSDAY here at Mrs. B’s blog.

Starting today and every Thursday I will post anything from a pic to a phrase that can be interpreted in many different ways, a thousand even. Happy interpreting!

Lies and Cheaters, Cheaters and Lies

Isn’t it crazy how these two words are destined to go hand in hand? If you cheat you will eventually have to lie. No matter how “honest” you are with those you are seeing a lie will surface somehow. These two words have kept me from establishing a relationship on more than one occasion. I can’t call it self-sabotage because half the time I won’t get past hello. Some of these dudes just look like they cheat and lie. Some of these dudes act as if they appeared out of nowhere and you didn’t just hear their loud ass phone conversation or you didn’t just hear their verbal exchange with their homie. The nerve of the “obvious cheaters and liars” I can give you all a prime example….

One day I was sitting at New Carrollton Station and two bus drivers walked up. One was telling his homie how his girl had switched the sim in their phones yet again and caught him cheating. He went on to say how it doesn’t matter because she’ll forgive him anyway and so on and so forth. Do yall know this idiot had the audacity to ask me for my phone number? So I responded “I don’t do females, your girl will be the one calling” He was stuck like shit, couldn’t say a word. Oh but I mustn’t leave out the fact that his homie laughed him out and had the nerve to say he is married but he’d love to call me sometime. What the fuck is wrong with society? Have you no shame?

Oh I have to throw this one in……

One morning I went into a corner deli to purchase my usual coffee and snacks and there was a guy in there on his cell phone. He was telling whoever that was on the other end and the whole deli about his recent escapades. He stated that he couldn’t pick whoever up because his car was shot up the night before and he is going to get so and so’s car to go and get whoever back because his man got hit and some other nonsense. Guess what yall, this mutha fucker had the nerve to ask me for my phone number. All I could do is stare blankly into his eyes and try and figure out how much of his brain cells he had smoked away…………………………..I left without an answer to the tune of “hey shawty, I can’t call you”

Back to the cheaters and the liars, you are all pretty much identifiable from the jump. My dumb ass just doesn’t give two shits and I still get involved. I almost get a kick out of listening to you lie to me. LOL, it’s not like we are going to prosper, why not have some giggles on you? Yeah I set myself up for failure. It’s almost like there is a secret society of Cheaters and Liars that have yearly quotas to meet and shit. The mess is so rampant I am forced to tell any potential fling, “don’t bother” I have enough trouble deciphering and sorting the tales of my enemies I have no time to sort through a whole new ordeal.

Hopefully one of my readers can help me out. I just want to know why, why do men lie? Why do they establish relationships, take vows and help make babies only to cheat and then eventually lie? I don’t want to waste my time getting to know someone only for his wife or baby momma n dem to come a calling telling me how he’s their “man” honestly, is that what you want? To each it’s own. I don’t want to get myself involved with who I think will be great in my future only to have him secretly wanting my boy cousin to do dirty things to him. That’s not even where it’s at. Why would I take the time to court and get to know you if you are only going to spend our time apart setting the foundation for ultimate bull shit? My point is there is none. There is no point to establishing anything with anyone these days. I am too old to be a future and too young to be a past. Stuck in the middle of pure undeniable fuckery. I want out.


Mrs B

Ultimate Swag

I am enjoying this moment in history from the comfort of my home, it’s invigorating. Even though I am not one for all the political mumbo jumbo and stuff I am really feeling this moment. I have half a mind to toss a few back in celebration. Hell I can find any reason to say cheers. I just want to wish everyone a happy inaugural and please be safe if you’re out there. Kudos to the entrepreneurs pushing everything from key chains to Don Kings denim jacket. I love my people. Michelle is a tad so fly and yessir on the gift, that was classic. Loved it! Before I go, why the hell was Chaney lifting boxes? Let me find out he got punked lmao. That can go in so many directions, I’ll leave it to imagination and shit………….. A wheelchair though?


I’m off to make my Georgia Hots, ttyl Readers.

Mrs. B

Martin Luther "The" King Jr. Day

Happy MLTKJ Day to All

I chose this pic for a reason, everybody posts the Happy Pics of MLTK, I for one feel like allot of us has forgotten exactly what he did for our people. Not only was he orgasmic he caught charges for our freedom. This man did not sit in jail so that our young men can walk around in skinny jeans. Yes that was straight contradictory, he fought for freedom in all forms. I just have a problem with skinny jeans on dudes. The day my son asks me for skinny jeans will be the start of child welfare visits to my home.

I appreciate Martin for all that he’s done. He was a true ride or die dude and I love him for that. Feel free to drop off why you appreciate him in my comments….


Mrs. B

ps. Martin Luther The King is what I call him, don't get silly - -