Who Is My Judge?

"Who is the JUDGE?
The judge is God.
Why is he GOD?
Because he decides who wins or loses, not my opponent.
Who is your OPPONENT?
He does not exist.
Why doesn't he EXIST?
Because he is a mere dissenting voice of the TRUTH I speak."

Ugh, this blog.  It's affecting me now.  Why do I blog anyways?  Whenever someone asks me that I never have a clear answer.  That's why I just don't tell anyone about it in the first place.  But I'm thinking that maybe this blog needs a makeover.  Maybe I have gotten off track.

I'm thinking that maybe I should just talk about easy shyt from now on.  Like my favorite songs or my favorite movies.  Or maybe talk about what I did at work or the strange people I see in the subway. You know simple shyt like that. 

 Or maybe I should talk about pink shyt - like dresses, perfume, or pretty jewelry. Cuz I'm a girl and that's what I'm supposed to talk about according to the double standard in this world.

(scratches head...thinking)


Now if I talk about safe shyt...like going to the gym or some guy I'm crushing on?  Would that be better?  I wonder how juicy could I make going to the gym sound so that it becomes a topic for discussion in cyberspace?  I'm there five days a week so I'm sure I could come up with something.


Or how about I hate that man and he did me so wrong shyt to get all the females to rally around me and send messages like, "Go girl" and "I been there chick"?  Cuz that's what we females do anyways...dog our men.  Nah, I couldn't do that because Black men are always putting us females on a pedestal!  They never talk about our bodies or our intelligence, or pass judgement on us based on little to no information.  Never.  We are automatic queens!  But if I did that, you know, talk about what I like and don't like in a man --- that would be blasphemy!  I'm really thinking about it though.  I should just write about what people expect me to write about.  Black men ain't shyt-shyt.  Because that's what I'm supposed to do. 

Ahhh now here's an idea!  Maybe I should babble about romantic shyt like wishing to be in love and how I pray that Prince Akeem is gonna come from Zamunda and rescue me one day!

That's when I will be happy and feel soooo much better about the world.  It would make sense because that's what all of us females are born and bred to wish for right?  Yeah that would be a good blog.  This story will be different though because instead of a white horse he'll pull up in a white Camaro to save me.  That way we both can have matching cars as we zoom down the Cross Bronx Expressway side by side.  Oooh now doesn't that sound just dreamy.... 


And then there's I wish wasn't broke shyt that I could discuss. But since I am pretty much debt free I don't have that problem anymore.  I have three streams of income now so it's not much to talk about there.  Oh well.  But I could make up some shyt though...


No wait!  I got it!  I should blog about impossible shyt like winning the lottery.  I think about that a lot anyway so if I blog and put those thoughts into the universe then maybe it just might happen for me!  Oooh, what will I do when I win?  Tomorrow is Ticket Tuesday anyway.  I play the Fo-Fi-Fo way.  Four tickets.  Four games.  Five dollars.  Throw in a couple of scratch offs too.  The guy at the store already knows me when I come in, so he prints the tickets and slaps them down on the counter all animated and what not.  BAM!  I worked really hard for it, but I'm finally a VIP customer at my local bodega.  I'm feeling kinda good about that.

"Hola mami, el mismo?"

"Si papi, si!  Sabes lo que quiero!"

I say all of this because if I talk about real shyt, I mean real shyt that seems to be...an issue????  It generates hateful shyt.  People get angry.  It's kinda crazy.  Is it because a female is the author and not a man?  I wonder would I get some mental high fives from male readers if I were a man writing about what I write about?  Would I get encouraging comments like, "That's why I fucks with you dawg.  You keep that shyt real."

(sings)

If I were a boy...

If I were a boy and blogged about sex and other things would that just be some boring shyt and not as interesting?  F*ck yeah it would be boring.  That's because talking about sex is man shyt.  They get an automatic pass to speak as freely as they like on the subject.

Dammit.  I guess I'm discovering that this blog is just not pink enough.  This writer is not pink and fluffy and sugary sweet enough!  I guess putting the little * in my curse words didn't give the blog quite enough of a 'girly' feeling either?  That's a bummer.  So even though I am a grown azz woman and have been thru enough shyt in my life to have earned the right to do what I want, and speak and tell what I want...I still have to be pink.  Like Pepto Bismol pink.  That way I will be more digestable to the masses and conform.

The double standard is alive and well, even in blogger world, and that's a shame.  So given that this is the case, why do I blog at all?  If I somehow have been made to feel uncomfortable about what I write then why blog.  Hmmm.  I'll think it over for a little bit.  It's kinda not being cool for me anymore. 

So maybe, just maybe I'll just...

(hears bumping and shyt dropping above)


Gotta move outta here.  I've had it with the Honeycomb Hideout.  I'm done.  I called the police on those azzes upstairs Saturday.  I had revelation this weekend that when you live in places with low rents, the mentality of the other tenants is probably gonna be low as well.  They are just some ignorant, inconsiderate muthafuccas.  Sick of this building.  Saw a Milk Dud crawling the other day too.  Arrgghhh.


The plan is to move March 15 or April 15 to move when it gets a little warmer.  Should I move into the city this time?  My eyes widen just thinking about it.  I hate to pack again though.  Damn.  I really think I'm gonna pay someone to do it.  Last the few times I had packers they finished sooo fast.  It will take me days or weeks if I do it.  It takes them just a few hours.  But I'm sure when I call and get the price for it I'll get slapped back into reality. 


Hmmm...that might be a good business --- packing people's stuff?  Then I could blog about other people's shyt. 


On the real, I thought this was MY BLOG where I could talk about MY SHYT.  A place where I could be free and easy and say what I want, when I want without concern for anyone else.  Where I could be pink, or fiery red, or sad blue, or ambitious green - anytime I got ready. But it doesn't feel like that anymore for some reason.  I'm mind tripping.  Too caught up in dumb links to other places and followers and comments and visitors and bullshyt like that.  So I think...I'll just talk about safe shyt here. 

"I'm not here for your entertainment.
You don't really wanna mess with me tonight."

Maybe safe shyt will get these male cyber-weirdo lames to stop sniffing in my blog's ass.  Cuz they seem to really like the smell.  For real doe. 

 "Who is your OPPONENT?
He does not exist.
Why doesn't he EXIST?
Because he is a mere dissenting voice of the TRUTH I speak."

Me-Cation

I'm going to the Bahamas.

I decided that I'm going and I booked my ticket and my hotel.  In two weeks.

Goin' by myself too.  Just for few days.  I have never been out of the country.  I just want to feel the sun on my skin.  Ride a bike.  Sit on the beach.  Think.

I got my last settlement check from the court case where I sued the people who caused my business to close.  I'll use a little of that to pay for it.  Also I just got paid by my client for my consulting biz that I still do on the side.  I should get a few more clients between now and April too.  Just bought some postcards to solicit more business.  I had a magazine ad but it seems that the postcards get the best results.  Then I still bartend and get a little here or there. 

I still get my hustle on.  I'm feeling a little more focused since I spoke at this business loan seminar last week.  Yep, they asked ME to speak.  Afterwards this Asian dude came up to me and told me that how I got my money for my business inspired him, and he liked my energy.  The people who I got the credit builder business loan from told me that my credit score went up 70 points since July.  Cool!  I'm always checking my report anyways but I didn't know the score.  Actually even with the bankruptcy ding it is almost 700 right now.  Woo hoo!  It had tanked to like 595 once that bankruptcy hit the report nine months ago.  So to go up to that in less than a year is not bad to me. 

I'm wondering about entering this business plan competition though.  Last year I was a finalist.  I worked so hard and practiced my speech over and over and over.  I wanted to show my passion when I spoke.  I didn't win, but the chick who did had a good business model.  I wasn't hating or disappointed.  I was pleased with what I did.  I'm thinking that I will wait to see if I can reopen to make my business more legitimate to the judges.  I think last year the judges just kept doubting me because they kept asking what happened as to why it closed.  No matter how I try to explain about those bastards who f*cked me over and took my money on the new place I was trying to rent, all they hear is that I'm closed.  The business was good when it closed.  I've been closed over a year now and the other day the business owner that was next to me said last week that people STILL come there looking for me.  I smiled to her but I kinda screamed inside.  I worked hard to keep that place going.  So hard.  I was handling almost $350K a month in sales.  Had an armored car.  Had business relationships with big companies.  I had systems in place.  Used my engineering background to make that shyt run like a well oiled machine.  And it did. 

But now it's all just a memory and everything is stuffed in a storage space.  In 2011 I gotta make a decision on how to proceed or sell that stuff.  Copiers, counters, computers, tables, cash registers....just everything that I acquired to run MY THING. 

MY THING.  BY MYSELF.  WITH MY MONEY.

AND I WAS DOIN' IT, DOIN' IT, DOIN' IT WELL. 

UH HUH, A 'TYPICAL BLACK FEMALE' LIKE SOME 'TYPICAL BLACK FOOLS' LIKE TO SAY.  YEAH. YEAH. YEAH. 

And that's what those bastards who tried to play me and run over me with that rental space thought.  They underestimated me and I sued their azzes.  They didn't know that I will sue a muthafucca if you do me wrong.  Took people to court enough times and it is no problem for me at all.  I was even having the fools upstairs from me taken to court for all the damn noise they were making - but they ended up moving out a month before the court date.  This lawsuit about the biz took a year and half, but I did it.  I'm serious about business.  That business was like a child I raised and no one was gonna minimize that.  No one.

Right down the street from the bar I saw a for rent sign on a spot.  It was right on the corner too.  Tonight I work and I am gonna take the number down and call.  Ooohhh, could it be good?  I hope so.  Another guy contacted me about a spot and I went to check it out.  There was a liquor store two doors down with fools standing out in front.  Nuh uh.  That's not gonna work for my customers or me.  I deal with too much money for that.  But this other spot...it's a lot less activity down there.  What I don't like is that there aren't other good businesses around it to draw from.  The block looks kinda dead to me, but there is a laundromat and a childcare center on the same street so...I gotta check it out during business hours to see what goes on around there.

I got the application to go to mortuary school.  I went to the funeral home to talk to the guy and he said that he would mentor me.  I can come and check things out and see how they operate so I know if I want to go forward with this school thing.  I guess I'll use the settlement money to pay for it?  I wonder can I even get a loan for school now?  You can't discharge student loans in bankruptcy so I still pay that...but I only owe like $800.  I'll look into it.  Who knows.

I'm really feeling this funeral home thing though.  I think it could be a good business.  I'll think about it more on the sands of Nassau! 

"You broke me now I'm healing,

Mending myself I can feel it!"

I'll be aiight.  The sun is out today.  Even though it's cold, I'll just focus on the sunshine.  The sun makes me smile. 

Gonna go to the gym too.  I need killa thighs.  I want killa thighs.  Gotta have killa thighs. 

It's hard though.  They just look skinny to me.  But I do like my booty!  It's a lot betta now. 

Well it's that not quite THAT NICE as in this picture (I'm not even sure if this is a real girl here), but the word 'peach' does come to mind when I look at mine though. 

Cougars stand up!!

Random...

From my phone: Sitting at this seminar about business loans. What the fluck for? I'm dead to a bank because of the bankruptcy. If this group didn't want me to speak about the loans I did get I would be working out right now. Can't focus on this info. I'd rather be eating a fish sandwich from White Castle.

Day #479: Blackout.

I decided that I needed some d*ck yesterday.  In the back of my mind I knew I shouldn't have really told dude to come over, but I did anyway.  But I was just soooo horny.  My libido has gone to such new heights that it is almost scary.  I'm CONSTANTLY using the toy and the vibrator.  Constantly imagining d*ck in my head.  If I had a boyfriend I would probably wear his weenie out from being on it all the time.  I have no idea what's going on.

So after I told him to come over I go to the store to buy me some stuff to make drinks with.  I had to work later that night at the bar, but I wanted to get a buzz on so that I wouldn't think too much about the guy while we were doing it.  He's not ugly and is actually very mild mannered...but I just didn't want to see HIM.  I didn't want to comprehend HIM.  I was determined to not make HIM count.  Make HIM worthless.  Like I have been made to feel recently by....that man. 

He arrives.  I start drinking margaritas and taking Patron shots like crazy.  I started drinking his vodka drink too.  Then I kissed him.  I swore I would never kiss him but I did.  That was a sign for me to stop, but I didn't.  I remember picking up the vibrator and talking about it. 

Then everything goes black.  I don't remember anything else except the sun being out.

The next thing you know it was seven o'clock and it was dark.  I was supposed to be at the bar at 8, but I couldn't move.  I was throwing up repeatedly.  I managed to get into some clothes and I put on my coat.  I fell to the floor and couldn't get up.  Dude is there trying to help but I'm done.  I couldn't even go to the bar and had to call out!  I f*cked up and lost that money last night and I was pissed.  PISSED.

I missed my money all over trying to get buzzed before dealing with this brutha.  Ridiculous.  This morning I was up and saw an empty condom package on the dresser. 

I thought I was too f*cked up to actually f*ck?  Or was I? 

I called dude and asked him why did he use one of my rubbers.  He said I gave it to him.  Um, ok then I was really f*cked up cuz that was a MAGNUM condom wrapper on my dresser.  No way if I was sober would I had given him a MAGNUM cuz he certainly didn't roll with that kind of package.  His shyt can fit in a regular azz condom with no problem.  There was absolutely no need to pull out the big guns for this brutha, but maybe in my drunkenness I saw something different...or was wishing that it was?

So I keep saying to him, "No I didn't give you that condom.  Those condoms don't fit you anyway."

(Yeah I know that was f*cked up to say.  But I did.)

"Yes you did give it to me.  And it did fit.  We f*cked."

"No we didn't."

"Yes we did.  You knew why I was coming over.  We f*cked a lot."

"We did?"

Then he told me what we did, what I said, how I screamed (yeah right), and everything.  He said I was even rattling off lottery numbers (well dayum?).  He told me that eventually I said that I wasn't feeling good and he stopped.  He had to carry me to bathroom because I was bumping into stuff and was falling down.  And I don't remember any of it.  In all my life I have never NOT remembered screwing some dude the next day.  I drank way too much and too fast and I felt awful.  I missed my money too.  It all was just dumb.

I went to the therapist today and I told her what happened.  She asked me why did I need to get drunk to f*ck someone in the first place.  She said if I needed to do alla that then I should have just masturbated and left his azz alone.  I told her about feeling worthless, about Pretty Brown, and that I just wanted to f*ck and erase the face of the man.  But it went too far.  I ended up erasing the whole encounter from my memory!  So should i say mission accomplished?  I guess? 


Yeah I admit that this was all very bad and I didn't use good judgment given that I had to work that evening.  I am also lucky that I know the guy too because who knows what could have happened.  We all make mistakes.  I f*cked up --- BIG TIME. 

I won't ever drink like that again.  Neither his d*ck or missing my money was worth it.  I may not feel worthless from the sex part because I really don't give a f*ck about that.  Ok so I don't remember the sex either - cool.  But my pockets could have been $200 heavier today.  Now that I will remember.

Damn girl.  What the f*ck was I thinking?!!!

See What I Mean?

I posted about JC men the other day. 

And to prove everything that I was saying in that post, here is a text that I just got this morning:

"youll so sweet youll make my eyes shine so wright to shine on you and to taste your sweet"

And then yesterday...

"how are you my sweet brown sugar and hows your day is and what you are wearing today so sexy ive just want to know what you are doing eating lunch or going to lunch kiss more kiss"

Ok what the f*ck
are you talking about Negro? 





I didn't respond to either one.  I can't.  I just can't.  


I mean I can appreciate you trying to send something sweet, but at least proofread your shyt before hitting the send button.  On second thought, maybe he did?

He might as well had sent the words, "Meep, meep", because all I heard was birds chirping after I read this text. 

If those texts ain't dumb, I don't know what dumb is.

Wait.

(looking around)

There it goes again.  LOUDER.

LOL.  Unbelievable.

The Cougar Game Ain't Easy...

Why when I went to the damn Cougars and Cubs first meetup last week half the men were damn near 50??  Some over 50.  99% WERE OLDER THAN ME.  There was maybe one twenty something year old at the event.

What f*ckin kind of a cougar were these guys looking for anyways...someone on Medicare?

Old men are forever thinking that they still got it.  They never get TOO OLD for anything! 

Never too old to pull a young tenderoni, but never too old to be hunted by a cougar. 
Never too old for cornrows, but never too old for a Teddy Riley 90s fade.
Never too old for gold teeth, but never too old for f*cked up teeth either.
Never too old for saggin' pants, but never too old to wear a tight ass muscle shirt. 

And never too old to make a baby, but never too old to act like one.

I just gotta laugh at that.

But the reality is that they most often WILL PULL some chick out there, despite their style or age.  It's just the way it is, and men ain't even worried.  Because if they were I probably wouldn't see half the shyt I see dudes getting away with out here.  No need to step up their game because somebody will take them.  AS IS.

Sigh.
(singing)
"Sometimes I wish I did act like a boy"

I think I'm gonna sing that at karaoke tomorrow night because I'm feeling some type of way on that subject.  I hope I don't screw it up.  Last week I sung Adina Howard's "Freak Like Me."  Had all the ladies sanging and waving their hands in the air and everything.  Hell I might just sing both songs and have me a mini concert going on up in there.

SIDE NOTES:
- I was soooo sleepy on the bus this morning that a little slob ran down my chin.  It was so embarassing but I was tired as hell.  I wiped it off 'cute' though.  Almost sexy.  When I woke up the man sitting next to me was looking at me like, "What the f*ck?"  Maybe he was asking himself what the hell was I just dreaming about? 
- Last night I watched The Craigslist Killer on Lifetime.  Dude was lying so much and it was all the similar shyt that Pretty Brown used to tell me.  Grrrr.  Lyin' mothafucca.
- The business plan competition is on again!  Since I was a finalist last year I hope they will still consider me for a second try.  Keeping my fingers crossed!

I feel confused tonight. New year and I'm tired already. I have a mix of thoughts in my head and they are not good. I need a ray of light.

Please come.