Act a fool.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.   The women in my life are AMAZING.

They are beautiful, educated, independent and talented.    They are getting their masters degrees, becoming doctors, are amazing writers, and sing better than anyone on YouTube.   They handle 2 rowdy boys under the age of 6, make the most amazing chicken kelaguin, and still manage to pay mortgage by themselves.   They are the girls you’ve always want to befriend.  

And yet, despite all these amazing things, the women I know – myself included – never fail to act a fool.

I’m not talkin’ about pushing a girl at the bar and starting a fight over nothing.  I’m not talking about stealing a pair of sunglasses from the local department store.  And I’m not talking about flashing titties to a bathroom full of drunk strangers.  We know better than that. 

I’m talking about other things like starting a fight with our boyfriend for no godamn reason other than to do so.   Or spotting our crush at the club on a Thursday night and turning right back around and running to the bathroom.   Even making our way to a birthday party for the sole reason that we’re curious to check out a girl we don’t even know… only to get there and freak the fuck out.  

So we act like we’re in the fifth grade and give people nicknames like “My Nose Ate My Lip” and “Boots with the Fur”.  And instead of kissing our crushes we’re literally pushing and punching them.   Instead of replacing the asshole who just left us with another one,  we travel accross the border and find a cuddle buddy — to just CUDDLE with.  Whom we text on the dance floor all night instead of allowing a handsome and successful man fly us to LA.  Instead of busting out a lying douchebag  about his girlfriend, we take what they say (or don’t say) for face value and convince ourselves that its ok… cuz WE AIN’T MAD ATCHA.  And instead of letting our balls hang loose, we let them shrivel up into our vaginas.   Thats riiiiiiight,  we still have one of those. 

This is why I believe that God must be a man.   Despite all of this amazingness, He makes sure to keep our asses in check with a lil bit of foolishness.  And a heart.  And a monthly period.  It’s cool, God.  I ain’t mad atcha.

I ain’t mad at my girls either.   And since its quite entertaining, I suppose I’ll let you have a vagina for another five seconds.   After that, I’ll leave you all with something Hayati sent me.

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the chase.

endless mimosas on a sunday with my gals equal lots of catching up, lightweight shit talking, and raunchy conversations.   after hearing story after story on whats going on in their lives, their friends lives, their enemies lives (cuz facebook makes everyone a stalker), and beyond — i got to thinking.

i knew the chase was important, but i failed to realize that for some people, the chase is all consuming.   and for some girls, its not about chasing dick, its about chasing love.  but sometimes they dont see the difference between the two (its a twisted state of conciousness, i know).

i heard the story of a gal who chased her dude to different cities across the country in hopes of staying with him.   mind you, he never invited her out, never made it clear that he wanted it to work with her.  she has convinced herself inside and out that he is the one.   she feels as if she’s found the love of her life, when he’s just along for the ride.   and she’s probably fuckin’ him even though he has a girlfriend or loaning him money cuz “he only trusts you”… please.  it’s not that he’s lying to her, but more that she’s lying to herself.

or how about the guy who’s crushed on the same girl for twenty seven months.   sent her roses on her birthday, whisper sweet nothings into her ear, buy her drinks at the bar, hugs her too tight and flirts with her every chance he gets.   then he fucks her and he’s in love. AHA!  success! and because women can’t separate sex from their feelings, she falls in love too….  except she really falls in love and he really falls in lust.  although it took twenty seven months to get into her pants, it takes him twenty seven minutes to tell her that it ain’t workin.   why?   cuz she’s been conquered and there’s another bitch to chase.

don’t hate the playa, hate the game. actually, hate the chase.

i know i’m making gross generalizations about men and women, and not all women are stupid and not all men are assholes (Reptar, i’m talkin’ to you) but for the sake of argument, humor me for just a second.  there has to be at least ONE person in your life that fits the shoe, right?   thats what i thought.

they call it “falling in love” cuz that’s exactly what you do… FALL.  you don’t chase, you don’t lead, you don’t follow, you don’t jump, you fucking FALL.   the only things that are meant to be chased are money and the ice cream truck.   love ain’t a trophy and neither is your heart.

like they say, “you will always lose money chasin’ bitches, but you will never lose bitches chasin’ money”  i’m just sayin.

You’re so vain.

You probably think this post is about you. ….

I just realized I haven’t posted anything since the 3rd!  Too long, too long…  But I wanted to touch on a subject that seems to be a part of my daily conversations lately  — when people (or more specifically, girls) think that everything is always about her.

I know you see it.  Those guys on your Twitter feed that do nothing other than tweet about hoes, money, and everything LV.   Really?  You’re about 4’8″ and single — big surprise there!   Or the girl who SWEARS you hate her, but you have no idea who the hell she is?!  Nor do you care.   Or your ex-girlfriend who likes to think you posted those pictures on your fb to make her jealous, when really, it was just a drunken good time.    

*Sigh* Don’t it make u wanna backhand a bitch?  lol.   

It’s one thing to talk a big talk and realize exactly how much you’re worth.  Its one thing to create your own hype and know you deserve it.  It’s another thing to be so self-absorbed and oblivious to anyone else around you.    PLEASE stop telling me what you used to do in wherever it is you came from.  What are you doing now?  Cuz if I hear you call me “Joe” one more time, I’m gonna LOSE IT.   

Put down your mirror and get over yourself, Thanks. 

Thats all.    I promise to  come up with a post-worth blog soon as I’m inspired.

can i kick it?

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next to the Mr. Me Too’s, and the Single White Females, i’d like to introduce a new member of the brat pack…. everybody meet — Can I Kick It?  (yes, you can!)

they seem to be everywhere, and every group of friends has at least one.   that one person who no one really wants to hang with, but tolerates because there’s really no valid reason to dislike the dude.   there’s always that side busta that thinks he belongs but really doesnt. the guy that always seems to invite himself places where he wasn’t sposed to be. u know, the ones who never fail to call u and ask, “Can I kick it?”

don’t get me wrong… we don’t hate Can I Kick It.    Actually, we consider him to be a little more than just an acquaintance, and will gladly accept the invitation to hang out should any of our other real friends be busy and we don’t wanna eat alone.   and its not as if he’s not nice, or lightweight funny, or smells bad or anything.  he just.. kind of… sucks.  at life. 

Can I Kick It seems to always keep himself out of the “real homie” zone due to his 1) utter annoyance 2) total inappropriateness and 3) being less cool than he thinks he is.  

“Jobin!  I’ll see you later or I’ll see you another time.”   crickets.  tumbleweed.  crickets. 

and although possibly inadvertantly, Can I Kick It always says shit to us like we’re thisclose, when its more like  t   h  i  s    c  l  o  s  e.   But maybe he thinks we are thatclose cuz we let him.  Cuz we’re nice enough to let him kick it, when really, we just wanna duct tape his hands to his mouth and hide him in the closet.

urgh. we need to stop being so nice.

and even tho NO ONE laughs at his jokes,  or offers him a ride to the club (like his cheap ass would buy a round of drinks anyway), or wants to eat out with him, or doesnt even wanna share a room with him on vacay cuz he’s only tolerable in small incriments… homie just DOESN’T GET IT.

maybe he’s delusional, maybe he’s just plain stupid, or maybe he really thinks we are his friends.  either way, maybe we should stop entertaining it or stop complaining about it…  just tell him he cant come, OR just shut up and take one for the team.

next time you see me with a pen in my right eye tho, you know which alternative i chose.

FOHN: Fashion Oh Hell No!!!

One of my very good friends just happens to be THE MOST fashionable person i know.  period.    and because I’m not very nice, I’ve decided to post her expert critique on an outfit that screams HELP ME.  lol.   read on.

How much is too much when accessorizing? I mean there’s gotta be a limit as to how much you can add to an outfit before you become a walking jewelry box or accessory drawer. Case in point… a friend of ours, who by all means is a pretty girl BUT falls into the category of “Unnecessarily Accessorizing”… Big time!!!

Now before you call me a bitch for calling out a friend… keep in mind that a real friend would never let her girl go out like this!!! Now see the picture below in question… Here are all her FOHN’s, in no particular order.

1. The belt circa 1994, has got to go… the dress is already pretty as if with out it. 
2. The leggings, OMG i don’t even wanna go there with the leggings
3. LV purse… got to go!!!
4. I would’ve went w/ a different cardigan… something about all those gold buttons on the front a epilette are driving me crazy
5. and last but not least, I would’ve preferred her hair down

 

LMAO.  I. DIE.   i should have guest bloggers more often.  =)

dicktionary.

sometimes i wonder why men and women cant understand each other, and then realize we have different vernacular.   we say one thing when we mean another and shit never makes sense.  

so to clear shit up, here’s a few words from the dicktionary.

1.  uh huh, sure.
when he says it– i’m not paying attention to what you’re saying but i want to get you to shut up.  (later followed with,  “but you never told me that!”)
when we say it — usually accompanied with rolling of the eyes, it usually means that we dont believe you but i dont wanna argue.  so fine.  see also, “whatever. and fine” 

2. wanna do me a favor? 
when he says it — wanna suck me up?
when we say it — wanna do me a favor?  (please note that when asking for favors, we do not expect to reciprocate one. just sayin)

3.  just a little bit.  just the tip.
— fellas, when is it EVER JUST THE TIP?  jesus christ. 

4.  thats fine with me
when he says it– amazingly, this really means that its fine with him. 
when we say it — this is a tricky one.   depending on context and tone, we could really be fine with it, or we could be lying.   beware.  

5.  whatever you want.
when he says it– really, whatever you want
when we say it — muthafucka you better pick whatever i want.

6. go ahead, do what you like.
when he says it — you better make it up to me later.
when we say it — you better not even think about it!  dont speak it!  do not utter another breathe about it! 

 7.  i’m sleepy
when he says it –  i’m sleepy
when we say it — i dont wanna have sex.   (also used, “my face hurts, i have work in the morning,”  etc)

8.  wow, your dress.
when he says it — nice tits/ass, lets have sex.
when we say it — that is the ugliest shit i’ve seen in my life. 

9.  5 minutes
when a man says it – 5 minutes.
when we say it – half an hour. or however long it takes me to perfect my fucking eyeliner.

10.  Whats wrong with me?  NOTHING.
when he says it –  nothing’s wrong with him.  we’re trippin.   stop being so paranoid
when we say it — oh good god do not believe us.   nothing is something but we think ur psychic and you should know.  this argument usually ends in “fine”.  or “whatever”. 

and there u go.   please be advised that the above is used solely for comedic purposes and should in no way be referred to when in an argument with your significant other, and while sometimes true there are women who do not follow the rule.  yours truly, for example.    =)

until next time!

chee hoo for jimmy choo.

a lil ditty i wrote for hellz.

there was an old lady.. who lived in her shoes. they were jimmy choo’s. 

last night i was sitting in my sister’s room oogling over the Jimmy Choo for H&M release.    I am so freakin excited i plan on camping out in the cold SF streets and being the first ones in line for the first ever clothing that has Jimmy Choo’s name on it. and of course, the bags and the shoes.   the freakin SHOES. 

i already know its gonna be bananas (i remember the Stella McCartney for H&M release.  i came home with scratches on my arm and a bruised rib)  so this time i came up with a game plan.   ladies and gents, if you’re ever in line for a sample sale, a limited release, or anything of the sort.. these tips might help.

1.  do ur research.   know exactly what pieces you want and what size you need.  for instance, i’m getting that blue suede dress in a euro size 8, and the shoes in a euro size 5.   wont that be a bitch when you get ur true size and that shit is too small or too big cuz u didnt realize that euro sizes are different?  

2.  wear tight fitting clothes.  leggings and a wife beater is my staple wardrobe for this kind of event.  why?   because while other bitches are taking off their blazers and tee to try on that jumper,  you’ll already be looking at urself with that shit over ur clothes.   and what do u know.. it fits like a glove.  

3. wear closed toe, flat shoes.    or REALLY COMFORTABLE closed toe heels, wedges, whatever. just make sure ur toes arent out cuz bitches be STOMPIN and there’s no time to be cryin about a lost pinky toe.  

4.  wear a fanny pack.     i pull out my gucci waist bag cuz im  gonna need both arms — one to hold bitches back/elbow the bitch in ur grill , and the other to take the last size 28 pants.   trust me, the girls you’ll beat out will all have big ass bags on their shoulders..

5.  leave ur phone in the fanny.   or better  yet, wear a bluetooth!   cant be havin no distractions while you’re stepping over the 4’10” girls for that last zebra clutch.   if its important, they’ll call back.  if they askin u to get something for them, they shoulda gone with you.  

6. make sure u have enough funds.   sounds ridiculous but it happens to the best of us.   u get to the counter and realize u left ur checkbook at home, or you didnt make that transfer from ur savings acct to ur checking acct.   save urself the embarassment and prep before hand + a lil extra JUST IN CASE.  =)

7.  wear ur hair up.   some girls throw elbows.   others pull hair.  im  just sayin. 

8.  tag team it.   if u know anything about basketball,  u know its all about ZONE COVERAGE.   you take the left side, ur bff takes the right.  you take pieces for the both of you and you’re done in half the time…  plus, you have another set of hands should any of you get into an altercation.  lol. 

alright there u go.  on November 14, u can find me in a sleeping bag at the powell st h&m putting these tactics to use.  i plan on putting aside an entire paycheck for these…  trust me when i say THAT SHIT IS MINE.   g’luck ladies! =)