Raheem Avery De Mayo

I have no idea what the Chinese stuff says
I say it says Raheem…… Yall don’t know either so nan!

I heart Raheem DeVaughn AKA My Shugg Avery ----



So Raheem DeVaughn is a 5th of May baby….. A Taurus. That explains the whole Kung Fu grip incident at Sharpie Gate.

I wonder how old he’s turning
I bet he’s timeless
I bet there is no birth year on his certificate of birth --

When I woke up this morning I felt a small pang of glee in honor of Cinco De Mayo (the next best holiday to New Year’s Eve) and I wondered exactly how many reasons I had to get wasted, then I checked my calendar……. VIOLA thanks shugg and parents for giving me reason number 124 ---- Just when I think I can’t drink another sip, I’ma throw that last shot back, dance me a jig and pass the fuck out to the sweet soothing sounds of Raheem DeVaughn aka My Shugg Avery……

I don’t care if Margaret side eyes the shit outta me everytime I call him this,



she gots to learn to share. (Yes I see her in my thoughts, she tells me how pretty my smile is.)
Because he gon always be my wittle Shugg Avery, ya hear that Co. ? ALWAYS

Nothing but a near death experience can keep me from it ----




So in honor of your Birthday I got you a virtual cake --- It’s red velvet,
I ate a piece, I got hungry typing this up, oh and shugg, it's divine ---

I also got you a virtual gift-card to Target, I’m on a budget….

I picked this one because you seem like an animal lover......

I also got you a virtual CD, it's Jay Z’s Blueprint 13 --- (be honored, this isn’t set to drop for years to come…don’t leak any songs either, he has joined forces with the creole connection)


And last but not least, I got you and annoying ass ecard but I don’t have your email, soooo I sent it to myself instead, In honor of you of course…………

Enjoy ur day Shugg!!!!

~Mrs. B

Just a Ramble

So many things have been on my mind as of late. I am not sure where or how to begin. There are things that I wish to accomplish, there are situations that I want to rant about… there are folks that I want to put up for discussion - so many thing so little time. In addition to this I have males to bash, lives to ruin, a world to conquer (insert evil laugh) I’m joking about the latter – but not really. Urgh, is there such a thing as a multi vent? I guess that would be a tantrum huh? I’m gonna call it a vantrum…… or maybe a ventrum………

Let’s do this in an organized fashion—I will start out by listing the things that I wish to discuss

Women Drivers
Cheaters
Newly Single Men
Sloppy ass Negroes
The education of a Best Man wait, that’s a whole ‘nuther blog…. I gotta take my time with that one.
Martin Luther King Jr.
Food Network
Plastic Cutlery
Pre Menstrual Syndrome
Love

Women drivers (male included) get the fuck on my nerves, These cheatin ass dudes need to stop looking to me for comfort , I am not the newly single man test driver so back off and enjoy a damn grace period, all you sloppy slovenly ass men out here that think you got swag cuz of a label need prayer and soap and an iron, MLK did more than just say a speech you in bred mistake of a man, the food network needs to do parodies so I can LMAO while I eat, Plastic cutlery is the devil at work but welcomed at home, I hate doing dishes that’s what my 11 year old is for, PMS can kiss my ass, I hate that shit and love – FUCK LOVE, that shit don’t exist as it once did the new meaning of love is no child support court----


AHHHHHHH – that felt great….

Mrs. B

Men are Like Cake

So Ms. Juanita (Baby Boy) had it right, or should I say delivered it right. I am sure that she is not the first to say this and I am certain that I am not the first to actually agree with it.

When you in love with a man,
he can make you feel high.

So high you just be in outer space.

But a man can also make you feel low.

Real low. And he can keep you there.

Keep you down.

If you let him.

Men can make you feel high and I of all people know that they can make you feel low. In all reality men are just like things, they are just like stuff……. Nothing more or nothing less. Before I go on I would like to say that I am sure the “yall women this – yall females that” is coming. Please miss my comment section with that bull shit. Until I sprout a penis and begin to think with it I will continue to blog on the bias.

As I laid in my comfy bed last night I began to think about past relationships and food then my thoughts drifted to past relationships and items…… then out of the blue I began to think of past relationships and employment. One thing that remained consistent with my thoughts were “past relationships” and from that I began to realize just how much men reminded me of stuff in general.

Let’s use cake as an example shall we, I absolutely love love love red velvet cup cakes, cake - anything red velvet. I’d even devour the armadillo cake from Steel Magnolias if I could---- Sometimes I get in the mood for a good old slice or three of cake and as I eat it I feel mmm mmm good, devine, pure euphoria at an orgasmic level. With each bite I sing in my head “I’m eating caakeeee I’m eatttinnng cakkke” and I love it! I gain a few pounds and I see the glass as half full, thick thighs are fine, who cares? Then there are days when I am in a funk, nothing can console me so I do what? I eat cake. Only this time it’s different, these are not happy bites, these are bites of punishment full of remorse, no songs in my head, no tapping of the foot just plain old chewing and hating each and every second of my life. I think “why am I doing this to myself, this cake doesn’t make me happy.” I make me happy – no matter my mood this cake remains the same. I brought myself to this cake, it did not come to me…. It has not forced me to partake in its sweet velvety goodness. This is completely my doing and for what? Just to have a bit of what I like. Just to regret the fact that my waistline is on maternity because of my desire? I am sure by now you are twisting your nose like WTF does cake have to do with men, well I’ll tell ya. It can make me feel high and it can make me feel low. WRONG, I can make me feel high and I can make me feel low. No matter how I feel or what I do that hunk of cake remains the same, it comes off different according to my situation.

As with men. Let’s talk about Satan, There were times when he made me feel like the best thing since sliced bread, I’m just taking it all in…. shucking and a jiving to his beat then on the flip side this same dude would make me feel like the shit on the bottom of someone’s shoe. To who’s fault? None other than my own……. I chose to dance to the good and cry at the bad, all the while he never changed, that was just him. He had his good times and he had his bad times I was the deciding factor in my serenity. It was up to me to choose if I would deal with it and strap up for the roller coaster ride or hop off at the next exit because I knew the results of each mood. There is no changing a man, who’d mess with the perfect Red Velvet Cake recipe? Can you make it better? And if you do then it’s not the same cake that you fell in love with, is it new and improved? Nope not at all. The end result will still leave you full of satisfaction or full of regret. It’s the same damn cake! It’s the same damn man!

Just like shopping, you could spend - spend - spend and remain happy with your purchases, even through bill time! Or you can spend – spend - spend and hate looking into your closet because the articles of clothing take on the hues of final notices. Either way the sport stayed the same, you decided when to go in. You decided what to purchase fully aware of the consequences, this is not your first time completing transactions you are a grown ass woman that has been shopping for years. You my friend are all too familiar with the layout of your favorite store or website. Just as familiar as you are with that man.

Employment doesn’t fall too far from this, life is in fact what you make it. Some folks have been stuck in dead end jobs for years, from one to the next yadda yadda – you know what to expect from this type of employment yet you do nothing to put yourself in a better position. Instead you punch in – punch out – play your numbers and hope for a miracle rescue win. Before you know it the amount of your losing lotto tickets are equivalent to a down payment on your dream home… Your state’s lotto is rolling in dough and your sitting at home scamming on a bag of weed to help spark your creativity because “one day” you gon make it……. Again, just like a man…. How much more will you put into a relationship, (whatever type of relationship it may be) before you realize you’re fucking a damn receipt book?

Look at me rambling – I could go on and on… I just had to get this off of my chest, now it’s time for a slice of cake…. Some light online shopping and a quickie…………..

Mrs. B

Expulsion

Hello out there!! I haven’t been posting lately because I am tired of the repetitive “I hate everything” blogs that I “paxadently” produce. I really do not hate everything per say, just the bulk of every molecule in existence.

Spirit world included

And the underworld for that matter

I do know that my dysfunctional past has a bunch to do with my outlook on life, which is sad really.

Too bad I am a born grudge-holder.

I am not capable of “letting go” as easily as others. I tend to hold on to things, both good and bad for months even years and I am convinced that my stash spot is full!

Hence - the monstrous headaches that I have been enduring for the last few weeks, off and on for hours on end. No amount of DC’s finest or Excedrin could take my pain away! This has got to stop, through this I see an outlet and it’s conveniently titled – expulsion.

Yes it has taken me one too many headaches to realize my actions are unhealthy. I must “expel” my disdain towards “whatever” into the universe. Not under the guise of a rant or vent, not to be confused with a confession or a rage fueled temper tantrum – no not at all. This and future expulsions will (and I use that term loosely) be as pure as a born again virgin, as fresh as a newly signed rap artist, as innocent as a husband visiting his ex-girlfriend ----SCRATCH <--- you see guys that anger just leaks out all willy nilly. Why did I type that? Why are these evil thoughts in my head? Here I am attempting to ever so gently “expel” my angers, my disdains, all that I loathe and the beings that I have come to wish death upon into the universe …….. I mean really………. what gives?

Is there a secret serum that can rid me of these hindrances? Maybe I can get one of those candles from the grocery store with the prayers on the side……. …

Or maybe I can just live my life according to the theme song to “The Facts of Life”

An excerpt for your reading pleasure, feel free to sing along:

You take the good, you take the bad,
you take them both and there you have
The Facts of Life, the Facts of Life.

There's a time you got to go and show
You're growin' now you know about
The Facts of Life, the Facts of Life.

When the world never seems
to be livin up to your dreams
And suddenly you're finding out
the Facts of Life are all about you, you.

Mrs. B

"Don'ts"

In my haste to be done with everything I forgot to be done with everything. This makes sense to me and you too if you can relate to my contradiction filled, mundane existence—Here I am wrapped up in the construction of my checklist of “don’ts” and I realized that I have been putting damn near all of my energy in exactly what I told myself I had to banish to the fiery pits of hell, never to be thought of again.

La-la-la-la-la, don’t do this, get rid of that, stop buying this, block the email, don’t eat that anymore, throw those away, clean that up, take that back, don’t you call him, stay from over there, La-la-la-la-la

These thoughts cloud my head each day. It’s not that I am procrastinating it’s that I literally develop at least 5 new don’ts a week…… it’s sickening even. I try something new and develop hatred towards at least one part of it. I noticed this on a recent outing with a Texan fellow – We had dinner, I didn’t even enjoy the good in the dish, I ate to taste the bad in the dish, what it was missing, how it could have been better, how I could improve on someone else’s recipe…. Pure Grinch like behavior. I don’t do it on purpose, it’s as if I have been taken over by the creator/s of The Sour Patch Kids.

If only I could master the art of grudges, the essence of banishment, the true act of zero tolerance – imagine that, me, she who rids herself of all things unholy unsheli with ease, as opposed to repetitively coaching herself to do so. Some of this can be blamed on my pushover-like tendencies, there I said it – I have a soft side. Not to be confused with a Charmin like softness though, when comparing to paper products I’d say my softness is equivalent to cardboard. I could be completely done with something at 11:45 am and by 2pm I’m thinking of reasons why I shouldn’t be. Contradiction at its finest.

I need a sponsor, someone to aide me in being done with something for good. I can admit my weakness, that’s the first step to recovery right?

Mrs. B

Universe Please Take These Thoughts From My Head - -

Happy Thursday to each and every one of you, I am feeling the need to release yet another rant into the universe. After all, this is the best way for me to cope with my unrealistic selfish ways. I am too lazy to act out and throw tantrums. That takes energy that I would much rather put into extracurricular activities. I don’t have the time to analyze where I stand, or should stand in certain relationships. Be it personal or work related. The best that I can do is exist. This is not to be confused with a stagnant Shells going about a depressing day to day routine in hopes of a miracle, what I mean is I can only be me in all of my glory till death us do part…. Hell, even then I may stick around to get a laugh out of spookin folks.

As most of you are aware I am not a chameleon AT ALL. I can’t do the whole “change up” when certain folks come around, hence my short lived plight with corporate America. I mean really, I am what I’m working with. That’s it and that’s all. Just me.


Let’s see what else, oh me and my “lonely’ as I call it. Or is it my lonely and I? Well either way I am learning to control my lonely. The best way for me to explain this is - I get dangerously lonely sometimes, as we all do. With that comes boredom and I am liable to start fires just to see response times and what not, okay not that serious but you get my drift right? It’s even harder when Sheli wants company but Juanita wants to be alone. Most times I just throw a few shots back and let Sherylle decide. That way I don’t have to choose sides. Menfolk don’t always understand my need for attention which is understandable seeing as how most times I am only in contact for my benefit. The problem comes in when someone slaps them with the “clue stick” and my antics are discovered. That’s always a blower.


When a conversation with you feels like pulling teeth it’s time for me to hike up my dungarees and skidaddle. In no way am I going to force myself upon you. It’s not my fault that you do not realize the blessing that has been bestowed upon you in the form of my presence – that’s your loss. All I can do is neatly tuck the memory of you inside my hope chest and pray that one day you will get a clue, where’s the “clue stick” in this instance huh? Take it how you want it, I’m just not really into the whole thing anymore. Even though the available applicants are few and far between, I am going to go ahead and give it a try. I think at least deserve the luxury of random phone calls. Damn.


I really hate the whole “in a relationship” thing when people use it to their advantage. I actually fell for a guy that did this on the regular, until I realized that all he does is “spin records” and possibly penises. Yeah I deserve a drink or two.


Missing a few of my old flames. I can-not believe I just typed that. In all honesty I am actually missing someone. Someone must have spiked the coffee and not with khalua! Someone spiked it with stupid serum or something, either that or my inner desperate woman is screaming for attention. I say this because the flames that I speak of have each played an intricate part in my decision to request the banishment of all males between the ages of 25-34 from Sheli’s World.


The end, I think
Mrs. B

Too Busy Wanting It

Yes I am starting off the year with yet another confusing ass revelation to my spinster ass ways. I am sure we are all aware of the all too familiar “I don’t want a relationship” or the “I don’t have time for all the extras” that is until you watch that one sappy love story or hear that one ballad that sends you into a whirlwind of emotions. (Or in my case a whirlwind of vodka ridden emotions) this does not only happen in my drunkenness I promise. My reaction to the big “R” varies daily. I feel a range of emotions, anywhere from being in awe of the lovely hand holding couple to smiling graciously at the man that hugs his woman ever so gently while they wait in line at the ATM. Sometimes I find myself wanting to know how it feels to have a man pick me up from work so I don’t have to deal with the stressful drive home and even feeling a slight pang of envy as an office mate gets her usual afternoon “boo time” phone call.

Then on other days I interpret the same actions in a different light, I see that couple holding hands and think to myself how possessive and insecure they both are, who holds hands with someone over nine years old when crossing the street anyway? Then I see the damn leech at the ATM with his personal teller and mentally curse his ass for filth and wonder how ol girl is gonna react when he leaves her ass. Oh and the dude that pics up his girl from work, has no choice since his lame ass ain’t workin anyway. Probably a “stay at home” dad that’s about to be a “rapper” blah- Then I want to disconnect the phone wires when the Mr. calls the Mrs. To check her ETA, he gotta make sure all remnants of the mistress are gone before wifey gets home - -


Confused I am and confused I will be. I don’t think I will ever have that special something with that special someone. I am too busy wanting what I am having trouble comprehending. I have realized that the old saying “you’ll never find love if you look for it” is true. I am guilty of partaking in the whole I am going to let love find me mumbo jumbo and alas it has been revealed that I am destined to be single. It fits me better than involved. Almost fits like a glove.

I don’t want to "wrap" yall up, IJS

Mrs. B