2 AM

Two times a year 2am does not exist, forcing the loss of a moment, I want to live in that hour. So effortlessly erased, catapulted into the universe as we continue to exist. All things happen according to plan. There is scientific reason for this “Saving of the Daylight” and I enjoy the mystery in living in that hour. Somewhere out there with a multitude of “sprung forwards” and “left behinds”. Free to my thoughts, actions and lifestyle. All of the minutes graciously collected for me, a world built upon diverted occurrences. The vagueness in the hour entices me.

What could have happened leading to what could have been if the change of a clock did not alter my time.

Maybe the loss of an hour saved a soul, just as the gain of one hour gave perfection to a plan. Things, moments and people are given and taken away. You give me an hour and just as you take it I feel the same. Only my surroundings have changed. Darkness and Daylight are toggled around me. An alter universe rotating on the hour, living in the transgression of absolute exchange. A continuous orbit in unchanging time, I have my hour, my hour stuck at the point of transference. The clock strikes “hour” and I continue. Savings for you translates to my eternity. A desire to be completely intertwined in the nanoseconds of the seconds that build the minutes of my hour becomes irresistible. Longing to experience 60 lost minutes in one second creates an unappeasable interest in the lucidness of saved time. 1:59 to 3am and my clock strikes “hour” 1:59 to 1am my clock strikes the same. What would life be like living in this hour? I can tell you it is truly divine, two times per year I envision this hour, my life in this hour and I love it.

I Wouldn't Call it Intuition

I am sure we have all had that period of time in our lives where we just felt like “a storm was a comin” or felt that what we were doing was “dead ass wrong” etc. Some say its intuition, some say common sense no matter what you call it - it happens, pay attention to it. I have the problem of ignoring it confusing it with the hate of the devil himself, not the one I bore children by, the big dog, Lucifer Jenkins. I mean really, Lucifer has no reason to hate on anyone, why would he waste his time setting people up for downfalls? What joy would he get from watching the likes of us crumble? Makes no sense at all.

It is not L. Jenkins fucking with our actions it is our action of ignoring our gut feelings that make us crumble. Wait, let me stop including my readers in my bull shit. I am so sick and tired of vocally expressing my gut feelings only to be shunned like an Amish Whore. I could keep them to myself but at what cost? My sanity? When I blew the whistle on the unspoken rule to carry shells my love life diminished, my sex life went to desert storm and my sanity returned only to battle with my insanity. They are at neck and neck right now I must add. I am taking bets in the comment section.

Not only do I feel as if I will soon be welcomed into my new padded home with complimentary little pills twice a day, I also feel like I will never ever ever ever ever ever ever be able to have a relationship. I am so fucking sick of self sabotage. Get thee behind me satan, I mean Get the behind me ignorance of gut feelings. What the hell am I supposed to do? Sure I curse love for filth at every chance I get, yes I am an active member of the Down with Love up with Hate Crimes Ensemble and no I do not plan to spend more money on a wedding than a divorce. So why why why is this punk heifer inside of me longing to actually be involved? I, well we (Juanita, Sherylle and Shells) see the fuckery that is called “relationship” We have lived through three in our life time. I want to go into tantrum mode, instead I will give an example of why I go cross eyed when gawked at by men and why the arch in my foot itches whenever I hear…. Well let me get on with my example.
As you all know by now I have two children by the devil in carnet. I also do not like to go into anything by way of deceit. So I am honest. Maybe too honest at times, to keep matters semi private I cannot go into detail but I can give a brief rundown of the happenings.

I opened up enough to tell someone the truth about my situation and why I feel that it would be a defeatable challenge for me to get involved. Me doing that was a huge hurdle, similar to the destruction of the infamous wall on Brewster Place. Why did I do it you ask? Because I actually give a fuck. There I said it, I fucking care and thought that I could take the steps necessary to prepare for a companion. Boy o muther fucking boy was I wrong!

Sit down for his response, I will not be sued from you fainting and hitting your heads on shit.

“Well, if that’s how you feel then I am sexually attracted to you, if anything we could be like, friends with benefits.”

Please send your condolences to my Post Office Box.

My fucking love life is over. Diminished. I really am destined for mason jars, rocking chairs and Faberge Egg collections, sitting on top of my doily collection, inside of my china cabinets from around the world collection…. In my fucking double wide trailer.

In fact 10 tears have fell from my eyes while typing this, I am in mourning. Have you a clue how hard it is for me to actually open up and let you in? On top of that actually prepare for an actual companion?
Microwave bammas I swear.
I guess its back to my slow cooker and living my life one day at a time……
Starting over is hard enough, maybe I’ll blog that one tomorrow. Maybe.

Mrs. B

Shots, Preachers, Mistresses and Bacon

I wanted to blog about this and that and all types of things that have been happening as of late yet each and every time I sat down to write I would get distracted.

I was left with bits and pieces of everything from poetry to recipes…. I am proud to say that I am about 300 words into my short story collection…. Maybe I should spice up the literary world by publishing a collection of handwritten shit. Just because I am too lazy to type. Hey, that has a nice ring to it……

So here it is….. my ummmm, usual random vent blog… Enjoy

Taking Shots

Not back shots of course, I mean shots of that joy juice that gets me all ready to do tha hanky panky, tumble with the bundle…… you know “make hay” well recently I discovered the untrue side to a “bar myth.” There is no such thing as “Beer Goggles” That whole little phrase is a pure crock of shit. I say this because I went on a buffer meet for a friend of mine and not only was the guy unattractive from the start, after about 3 drinks he became repulsively unattractive. I was surrounded by unattractive men. Then again I was in Baltimore. Wait I take that back, I have seen a few “catches” here and there, in this instance I may have been invited out to the “unattractive guy’s watering hole” (UGWH)Nevertheless that whole Beer Goggles thing is nothing but a got damn scapegoat to ease the shame and guilt one would feel when facing one’s fling sober. Wait, I guess it’s not a pure crock of shit after all, I’ll drop the pure and just call it a crock…….


Assume

I just had to throw this in here, as I was leaving the Unattractive Guy’s Watering Hole I took a few moments to gather myself in the parking lot. While sitting there fighting back my tears of repulsion a rather “schwanky” BMW pulled into the lot…. You could faintly make out the silhouette of a bouffant style hairdo, leading one to think “there are women in this BMW” ahh hemm, it is 2010……… There was a group of about 7 or so members of the UGWH standing off to the side, they began to cat call and one said aloud, “I’m trying to ride with whoever is driving” From my position I could see that the car was occupied by a man and a woman, or was it? The scene was straight out of Belly, I was just waiting for the dusty chirren to run along side of the car in hopes of seeing their favorite celebrity. I got that in a sense, just replace the dusty chirren with dusty menfolk and there you have it….

So the car sat, by this time I am curious as to just how the hopeful fellow would do with getting the drivers information. I just had to see their reaction when this couple got out of the car. So I sat, cursing myself for not choosing a cell phone with a backlight and flash --- Hell - to each his own – whatever tickles your fancy ---- Like a flash, out jumps The winner and 1st runner up to Rupaul’s Drag Race --- But not really, yes two flaming gay men exited the vehicle, one in complete drag (honey chile was fierce) and one in a Metro Sexuals Finest – Skinny Jeans, Skinny Vest, Man bag and Mandals ---- Boy oh boy them dudes scattered like roaches, the shit was hilarious, I even heard faint sounds of regurgitation – I swear I did. Hey that’s what happens when you assume – you make an ass out of who??


The Preacher Man

There is an abundance of Reverends here in the Baltimore area. Is this a new trend? I do believe I have met 4 Preacher Men in the last few weeks. This is creeping me out. This is either

1. A sign from the lord up above that I need prayer and someone to lay hands on me.

or

2. A sign from the lord up above that I need prayer and for someone to lay hands on me.

Either way all of them mother fuckers have side talked prayer and laying hands on me --- unholy sinful ass bitches.*church clap*


I Blame it on the Warden

When in the hell did I go to sleep and wake up in the Trailer Park Zone? I am no Jerry Springer Alumni – I do not know the proper way to visit a man in prison without waiting in a long line. I have no clue as to the ETA’s of “jail buses” and a good amount of change for visiting room snacks. I am no lady waiting so do not treat me as such. I will keep the rest of my comments under wraps out of the fear that them “boys” may get me…. I’m fragile


The Baby Momma Collection

I am not sure who sings/raps this song but all I hear in the background as I type is “all these niggas and all these bitches” It has a “west coast” vibe to it. I do not feel like going on google, aside from the fact that a mere inquiry to lyrics.com damn near shut down my whole computer via porn pop ups, ha! I just don’t feel like it. Talk about awkward, imagine that call to Information Technology *hubba- hubba* luckily they were fully aware of this virus attempt and I was not the only one to experience it.

I shall now be a BING girl.

Moving on, these dudes and their haute couture summer 2010 baby momma lines are getting quite out of hand. I had the unthinkable happen, I was approached by a rather slovenly gentleman inquiring about child birth. Yes childbirth, apparently since I have a car seat in my vehicle his “baby mommas” and I have something in common. So much in common that I was respectfully invited to have his next child, he has a goal. He’s at baby number six and he informed me that he wants to father 10 children just like his pappy did……. I am torn, do I curse him for filth because of his blatant disregard to the values that come with childbirth or do I commend the poor lad for setting a goal and sticking to it?? Needless to say I left him confused and rethinking his approach towards women.

This to my fellow Baltimore Women, “you’re welcome” – Hey, it coulda been you

In closing I would just like to re-iterate the fact that although I have been blessed with girlish looks I am not interested in you, you half married bastard. Besides, just as the value of marriage has dropped so has the value of a mistress.

I would also like to say that I am in no way shape or form interested in eating like a Muslim. The next person I meat (pun intended) that tries to sway my bacon preferences will be made an example of. I do not wish to live my life porkless and bowing however many times a day in whatever direction so that my children can be abundantly giftless at Christmas time. If you were offended tough titties, I take offense in your slander of the other white meat.

Good Day Folks,
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

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'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-

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****

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.

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

This dude named Gilo Cardozo has invented the “skycar” and is in a strong second for next weeks “crush of the week” This tricked out doonebuggy thing can be seen somewhere between the land and air on and over central London and West Africa over the next few days! Final destination Timbuktu. Who will be driving/flying this thing? None other than Neil Laughton! (my strong first for crush of the week) I mean this dude really has big cahones, really Neil? You’re just gonna fly/drive your ass from London to Timbuktu? Just like that right? That alone does some thangs to me…………….

I have never heard of either one of these dudes before this morning so excuse my fascination with the britts, so what if they don’t brush we don’t have to kiss to kick it.

Here’s a URL to the vid of the hawtness in case you want to hear some “details” I for one am satisfied with the notion that one day I may be able to cut someone’s ass off by land and by air!!!!

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/technology/7826330.stm

Oh I did not post pics of the two boo’s out of respect for blogger – inventor/driver/pilot confidentiality…Google them

Mrs. B