nasty nas, you are the truf.

M- this one’s for you.  luhhuuuu.
 
“No ideas original, there’s nothin new under the sun.  Its never what you do, but how its done..”

Can  I get an amen?  Can I also get a middle finger for everyone out there who makes it known that they started a trend?   

fashion is FOR THE MASSES.    unless u make shit urself, SOMEONE is bound to have the same piece.  think ur the only one rockin that eyeliner or that shoe or that hairstyle?  think again.   everyone and everything is inspired.   so, if ur not emulating someone else, ur emulating something else.   going back to my last “and i quote”, u aint original.. no one is..  but fuck at least be authentic.

and lets say you are an innovator, and you did start rockin somethin before everyone in ur immediate circle did…  dont sit there on a high horse and tell everyone and they mama that “you rockin my bun. thats my bun.  i started it” .. especially if the girl is rockin YOUR BUN better than YOU.   

cuz if that was the case, i’d be in ur face about BLINKING cuz “thats my blink. i started it. i’ve been doing it since i was born.”   stay humble about your shit.

 it aint never about WHAT you rock, its HOW u rock it.   chuuucchh..

true story.

the diary of a mad woman, and an asshole. 

(the following is based on a true-story. all names and places have been changed to protect the innocent)

Dear Diary,
I’m moving!   this long-distance, talking on the phone, only seeing him when i fly there is getting old..  i decided i wanna be closer to him so i’m moving!  its only an hour flight away so it shouldnt be too bad.    plus, maybe me being closer will make him want to be exclusive.  that other bitch he’s dating aint got shit on me anyway, she’s a fat horrendous COW! *sigh* its gonna be perfect, i found an appartment 5 minutes from his place.  he doesnt know yet, i want to surprise him the next time i visit.   i know its a big decision but i love him. he’s gonna be so happy.  we’re gonna be so happy.
  

Journal Entry # 27
my game must be TIGHT cuz i swear the jumpoff chick is on my dick.   the other night, i come home from girlfriend #2’s house and she at my door!  she didnt tell me she was coming and so im hella surprised. 1. because she always fly her own ass down here and 2. cuz i smell like sex and hella tryna figure out how to not have her notice. 

anyway, she says she got a gift for me (like she always do, cuz i got it like that) and its a key.  to her new apartment.  10 blocks from mine.   she fuckin CRAZY, yo.  i kind of expect her to show up at my door tonight with an ice pick or something.   but as long as she pays for dinner then i aint stressin.  HA.

Dear Diary,
fat horrendous COW is out of the picture.  i knew it wouldnt work out cuz she’s fat, ugly and broke.   now he has more time to be with me.  can’t complain bout that!    he lost his job tho so i offered for him to move in with me till he gets back on his feet.   im an independant women, i dont need a man to help me pay my bills!    plus, im happy to take care of him now cuz i know he’s gonna take care of us later.
   

Journal Entry #36
yo, being broke suuuuccckksss.    but Jumpoff pays for everything now so its coo.   dinner, drinks, she takes me shopping and i stay at her place for free.  how many other dudes can say they got a sugar mama?  had to let go of gf#2 cuz how am i sposed to take her to the house when i got the jumpoff watchin me like a hawk?   its coo, her cousin got her own place so she just been replaced.   damn im fuckin PIMPIN!  i should teach a class on freakonomics or something.  *pop my fuckin colllar*

Dear Diary,
we’re going to hawaii!   the tickets were kind of expensive but whatever, its gonna be so worth it.  im gonna meet his family!   gosh this is such a big step for us, this means he must be serious about me.   things are going just as planned. i need to start losing weight.

Journal Entry # 45
what the hell?  i need a break from all this suffocation!   i told jumpoff i was going back home to hawaii for  a family reunion and the crazy bitch bought herself a ticket!  i mean, she bought mine too, but she didnt have to my moms was gonna do that.  that means i gotta fuckin babysit on vacation?   FML i hope she doesnt wanna come to the party and meet my fam and shit.  i mean, she coo but we aint even like THAT.   fuck, what am i gonna do? 

Dear Diary,
i am devastated. i cannot eat. i cannot sleep.  i cannot even BREATHE.  he’s moving back home.  i JUST moved here.  what am i gonna do?   i mean i guess i could move there too but where am i gonna stay?  with his mom?  i offered to let him stay here as long as he likes, rent free but he declined.  i dont know where we stand. i love him, i know he loves me.  i just dont see us working out unless we’re in the same city.   Maybe i can get a transfer?

Journal Entry #58
this chick just will NOT QUIT.  tried breaking up with her, but i just can’t.  she takes care of me, goes out of her way for me, she hella ride or die for me.  can’t break her heart so im just moving back home to my moms.   met some hot ass girl @ oceans last time i was home and i think im lightweight in love.. or lust.. either way she TIGHT. (aint gonna tell her that of course).  anyways the sugar mama just can’t take a hint tho, cuz she offered to move her ass out there too.   i mean REALLY?  i MUST give some good dick cuz she chasin it all over the country.  its just too much! im crossin my fingers her transfer wont go thru.   anddd hopefully i get to keep the TV when i move back home too. 

———————————————————————————————–

Dear Dumbass,
I MEAN FORREAL?!   he never tells you he loves you, uses u, dont invite u anywhere and u’s in love?   just cuz he’s dickin u down doesnt mean he loves you.  he’s just not that into you.  let him miss the scent of ur panties once in a while.

lesson of the day – STOP CHASIN DICK.  

Dear Douchebag,
can u just KEEP IT REAL?!   she maybe delusional about you but u lettin her think there’s more to ur relationship then there really is.    u may think ur god’s gift, but u just an asshole interested in free pussy. u aint pimpin hoes, u pimpin yourself out to the highest bidder.   man up and handle ur own.  

the end.  thank you, come again. 

charm school.

i dont believe in being polite.  i dont believe in saying something “just to be nice.” i dont believe in not saying something “just to be nice.”  

i dont believe in telling ur friend that her ugly ass shoes are “sooooo her” just cuz she’s ur friend.  i dont believe in declining food from an acquaintance in an effort to be polite.   i dont believe in saying “he can’t handle ur awesomeness” rather than “he’s just not that into you.”

but i dont believe in being rude either.   i dont believe in being mean for the sake of being mean.  (abi, shut up.  just cuz its mean doesnt make it any less true)

i believe in being real.  i believe in the prevelance of truth.  i believe in saying what you mean and meaning what you say.  you cannot please everyone and someone’s feelings are bound to get hurt anyway so just tell it like it is, everytime. 

being ladylike has nothing to do with keeping ur elbows off the table, cooking dinner everynight for ur man, and only speaking when being spoken to.  it means defining yourself every chance you get.  it means defying every ladylike barrier put up in an effort to stunt your growth and ur power.  it means doing everything to the best of ur ability, even if u can’t do it better than he can… or she can.. for that matter. 

being classy is staying true to yourself against all odds.  its a take-no-prisoners-no-holds-bar-attitude in your pursuit of happiness.  its not just talking, its allowing people to HEAR you.  its making a statement while paying ur bills and shopping and chewing gum and feeding your child all while batting ur eyelashes and flashing ur smile. 

i am  a lady.  i am superwoman.  and i am still not polite.

FML

Beneath the make-up & behind the smile
I’m just a girl who wishes for the world..
– Marilyn Monroe

“fuck my life.  and the one before it. and my afterlife” – hayati

this blog is not meant to inspire, has no comedic value, isnt lovey dovey, wont make u love life more, or anything of the sort.  if ur looking for any of that, do not pass go.  do not collect $200.  read a previous post.   YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

with that outta the way.  can i just reiterate…  FUCK MY LIFE.

livin my life like its golden?  u know whats wrong with gold?  it melts.

shit happens.  i become irrational, emotional, aggravated, annoyed and tell people to save their money so they can bail me outta jail as soon as i kill a muthafucka.   i have bad days, weeks, months.  i have moments where i cannot bare to get out of bed and face another human being.   but i do it anyways.  and not because its the right thing to do, but because if i dont i wont ever be able to go back to being “normal” — whatever that is.

so i make the best of what i got, livin my life like its golden even if its really just gold plated.   laughing it off, drinking it down, shrugging it away cuz thats really all i can do to keep myself in one piece.

cuz i feel like im about to crack.

kind of woman.

Sicker than your average, I walk around with my head high, kind of woman. Not because I’m full of it, full of shit, or think I’m better than the rest, but because I know who I am and I’m proud to be, a woman. Far from average, I handle business on a daily, kind of woman. On the grind, on a mission to provide, for everyone, kind of woman. Take one good look, because that’s all you’re going to get; no time to slow down for anything, woman.

If you want to waste my time, I’m not your woman.

I get mine and hope you’re getting yours too, kind of woman. No stuck up shit, I’m headed to the top and want to take you with me, woman. You want to know me, know my mind and soul, not just my scent or the way my hips move, kind of woman. I set my standards high because I know what I deserve, kind of woman. No doubt, I appreciate for what it is, but if it’s not meant to be, I keep things moving, kind of woman. I love love and love hard, so be prepared, kind of woman.

Beyond sexual, so intellectual, I want to enlighten, be your soul’s inspiration, kind of woman. I don’t take a thing for granted because I know nothing lasts forever, but I’ll forever be, a woman. Forever, your woman, if that was the case. I believe in the highest power who gave me my purpose, my power, as a woman. I do what I love and I love what I do, kind of woman. I don’t stress to impress anyone but myself; I am a perfectionist, yet imperfect altogether so appreciate it, kind of woman. I won’t trip if you don’t, it’s not the end of the world, woman.

Respect is given but can easily be lost, kind of woman. No drama resides here because I’m a positive kind of woman, a positive woman. It’s all in the laws of the universe, I can and will be where I need to be, kind of woman. So let’s keep it moving, women. I’m for change and for the better, kind of woman. I want to make a change because I know I can, kind of woman. So stand up because I know we can, women.

[thanks mars]

snoopy.

i used to be the crazy girlfriend.   the one who looked thru her boyfriend’s phone and deleted every number attached to a female name.  the one who had the password to his pager (yeah, i said pager) and sat there and listened to every *6877*1773*170111* to figure out who was pagin him and who he was talkin to.   the one who gave every girl “friend” the stink eye and made sure i was better looking.   the one who called his friends to make sure he was out with them like he said he was.   the one who cried over everything just to get attention.   the one who stalked his ex-girlfriend just because she was his ex. the one who turned into the crazy ex-girlfriend.  who got broken up with cuz i was “crazy”.  who didnt understand wtf crazy meant.

until i dated the crazy boyfriend.   the one who did everything the crazy girlfriend did and more.  the one who drove me absolutely insane.  the one who gave me a taste of my own gadamn medicine. the one who made me value my privacy.  the one who changed the way i love.

and after all the high school bullshit that i went thru, i thought i’d seen the last of the crazy.   cuz everyone outgrows it.  cuz its soooo stupid.   cuz everyone’s had a crazy in their life.   cuz crazy is not a good look.

but now, even at 26, i look around me and see my grown ass folks being crazy and dating crazy.

trust and privacy is a funny thing.   he can swear uup and down he trusts you, and yet start an argument with you as soon as you question why he wants to know the password to your facebook.   but its not that u dont wanna give it to him, its just that u dont understand WHY he needs it?   and then come the questions. “who u talkin to?” “what u hiding anyways?”   OOOMMMFFGGG.   its not even close to being about that, it was just about keeping your private things private.

i think people mistake an invitation into bed as an open door to all ur personal matters.    but if that were the case, wouldnt that negate the whole idea of  “being in a relationship”?   cuz you choose what to share and how to share it.   and the person you’re with should respect you and your choice on when and with whom you share these things.    the person you’re with shouldnt feel obligated to make an excel spreadsheet for you with her social security number, passwords to twitter/fb, and pictures of her exes should she?

and then there’s the whole thing about equating “respect my privacy” with “what u hiding from me?”   that shit is NOT THE SAME.  and i dont know how to get it thru her thick ass head that just because her dude won’t give her access to his email, doesnt mean he’s having email sex with his ex!   and because she’s insecure, she’ll insist on snooping thru everything else to make sure he’s not doin what she’s scared he’s doin.   gah.

snoopers need validation one way or another.  either that hes wrong and can breathe a sign of relief that she still in love with him, or that she’s right and she KNEW IT when he lied and said that other girl was “just a friend.”

either way, trust dont live here.   and if trust dont live here, love dont either.

think about it.

club rats.

i’m not a club rat. not in the least. not even when i just turned 18 and could finally get into the club, or when i just turned 21 and could finally get one of those cool wrist bands and purchase alcohol from the bar.  i’m more of the lounge/bar/live band/dinner & drinks kinda girl. my outfit of choice when going out is jeans and a beater so if i have to put on anything that wont let me pop, lock, and drop it… i’d rather not go.

but this friday, i’m making an exception. i’m hitting up WET in San Jose for some friends and its like a vegas club, but in california.  there’s even shark tanks and all that jazz.   i have to put on a dress and heels and wear makeup and maybe fix my hair.  (i say maybe, cuz i dont even own a brush so fixing my hair entails a fancy pony tail clip or something).

and even tho i’m looking forward to being fubar in a dress, and skankin all night cuz Sean Paul is performing,  i am really looking forward to watching people make fools of themselves.  lemme explain.

me and abi are excited about Sean Paul cuz that means that they’ll be playing reggae/dancehall and we can get our whine on.   so u’ll prolly find us in the corner of the dancefloor with a few other girls, in a fobby dance circle and smiling at each other as we each show off our moves.   the boys, however..  will be standing around, drink in hand, staring at the fobby dance circles scoping out which girls are hot, which ones are not, and which ones are available to offer a drink to.  

its totally unacceptable for a man at the club to be dancing by himself, or in a circle with his guy friends.   INSTANT FAIL.  that shit is just G-A-Y.  the smart ones will politely ask a girl inside the fobby dance circle to dance so he doesnt look like the ruh-tard giggin by himself.   the stupid ones just pick a girl and decide to grind up on her from behind thinkin that she’ll rub the booty on his groin, when instead she’s really makin the “is he cute?” facial expressions to the other girls in the fobby dance circle.    more often than not tho, the stupid ones are also the ugly fat ones, and she’s mouthing “HELP ME.” to anyone who will listen.

and why do guys think that any woman who will accept a drink from him  is interested?  no woman in their right mind will decline a free drink!  even if it means running away faster than sonic the hedgehog as soon as her fingers grasp the glass.   and good GOD please tell the men to get it outta their  head that money makes  them handsome.   no.  it just makes them an ugly guy with money that will throw a drink at anybody with a vagina.   translation, SUCKERS.  rich suckers, but suckers nontheless.  

and then there’s the hot messes who are suka-ing in the ice buckets. or the fat girls who dont think their fat and wear ur baby sister’s clothes cuz they think its sexy.    or the girl who took her shoes off cuz they too small and her feet hurt and now she’s barefoot on the nasty ass dance floor.  or the hot guy who seems to be dancing to a completely different song than you cuz he’s totally throwing you off but he HELLA FEELIN HIMSELF.   or that asian girl who thought that wearing running shoes and a mini backpack to the club is acceptable.   or the single old white guy who’s lookin at you like he wants to buy you as his wife. 

lmao.  let me just stop right there.   *sigh*  its gonna be a fun night.  =)  u ready, hayati?

frenemy.

i be a bored fuck at work. so i’m on fb on my phone and i’m browsing thru status updates and one of em slapped me in the face…

“why do girls hang out with girls they dont like?”

omg. and it was on a guy’s profile. LOL.  there are soooo many answers to this question.

she’s cool. just not my cup of tea. just cuz we dont like a specific thing about a girl, doesnt mean we dont like her as a whole. for example… this girl i know loves to borrow everything under the sun, and it annoys the bejeezus outta me, but that doesnt stop me from choppin it up with her when i see her. and so long as she doesnt ask to borrow another pair of my shoes, we good!

benefit of the doubt.  girls love to chismiss but not necessarily pass judgement.  i hear shit bout girls i dont even know but i always want to come to my own conclusion about their character.  so even if i hear that she’s a backstabbing two-faced whore, i’ll probably give her the benefit of the doubt and attempt to get the know the girl.  cuz what if she’s nothing like that?   then i missed out on knowing an amazing person.   and just to clarify, just cuz my friend dont like her, doesnt automatically mean that i dont like her by association.  

sometimes, we just can’t get away.  so.. ok.   we dont like the bitch.  we’ve already established that we dont click.  but, shes really good friends with one of our good friends and she’s bound to be at the same events.   and since i aint the type of girl to start shit when its not appropriate, i bite my tongue and try our best to be cordial..  i say hi, i smile politely.  but does this mean i wanna be bff’s?  NO. 

who said i didnt like her?  guys are always thinkin that we automatically dont like anyone with a vagina.   and yeah we may give her the side eye upon meeting her but thats only cuz we a hater but im pretty sure that unless i come out and SAY that i dont like somebody, i dont automatically NOT like them.   c’mon guys.  give me a break. 

and i could go on and on but i’ve already lost my train of thought and i’m gonna let u guys give me more answers.  JESS?  i know ur dying to share.  hahaha…

and u say he’s just a friend

something that i posted on What The Hellz.. repost.. 05/11/09

“guys and girls are only FRIENDS because the girl keeps it that way.” – James P.

u know those guys… the ones that u date that automatically assume ur fuckin around with EVERY guy u say hi to? those insecure guys who give every human born with a penis the evil eye as soon as u introduce him as your “friend”. the guys that are too paranoid that they go into ur phone and delete ever number attached with a masculine name. all the while, this same guy is takin out his homegirl to dinner cuz she just broke up with her man. ummm… WHAT?
why is it, that men cannot seem to fathom the idea that men and women can just be friends? or wait.. lemme rephrase that. they cannot comprehend the idea of their girlfriend having a platonic relationship with another man.

ok ok, sometimes guys are too much. and sometimes they swear their game is tight and we’ll just get swept off our feet. and sometimes they’re a little too agressive when they know they need to just back the fuck off. but has it ever occured to you gentlemen that we, as your women, will sometimes ALWAYS know when to put our foot down. that when another man says that we’re pretty, us saying “thank you” does not translate to “lets have sex.” that we dress up to go out, not to impress anyone else, but so that we don’t waste the pretty. “If you don’t want men calling your girlfriend pretty – date someone ugly.” – Hayati

male/female platonic relationships are possible. they are real, and they happen everyday.. and although in some cases, one person wants more out of the relationship than the other, most of the time when she says he’s just a friend, HE’S REALLY JUST A FRIEND.

and i know it goes both ways and we already know there are some scandalous ass females out there but this blog isnt about that.. we dont go around calling every woman in ur phone book askin her how she know u and if u guys have dated now do we? (or well.. i dont, at least)

and its crazy how that intro quote was said by a man.. cuz they swear we have all the power. and WE DO! we say no and we say when to go. (i swear having a vag badge puts u on top of the world).. but fellas can’t u TRUST ur women to do the right thing by you? we aint as shady as u’d like to believe. i promise.

so guys.. ease up on ur lady please! not only do u look crazy and insecure, but it brings ur pogi points down by at least 5. remember, ur still the one dickin her down at night. RELAX or you’ll head from “boyfriend” to “just a friend” in no time.

hot mess.

the only rule i ever follow when going out is..

always always ALWAYS keep my composure.
even after 14 shots of patron and my stomach hates me, and my liver wants to run for dear life, and i’m sweating like a pig in the mojave, i always make sure my makeup is on point and i have no wardrobe malfunctions and my hair still looks somewhat decent with all the perspiration.
i mean, whats the point of doing ANYTHING if u dont look good doing it?
and then there’s the rest of the female population. the girls who think walking barefoot on the urine-stained cement is OK because their cheap shoes hurt. or the girl who almost twists her cankles even though she’s walking barefoot on a flat sidewalk. the girls who scream “I’M SO WASTED” at the top of her lungs because she thinks the person standing 2 inches away from her can’t hear her. the girls who’s dress (that’s actually supposed to be a top) has ridden up and become a top again and she walkin around lookin like she left her pants in the bathroom.
u know who i’m talkin about.
im talkin about the girls who come to the club hot, and become an absolute hot mess in 4 shots flat.
don’t get it twisted, im all about having a good time. debauchery is one of my favorite things… but the one thing i believe separates the ladies from the club rats is the ability for her to maintain while inebriated. its not a good look falling on ur ass while ur left nip slips in front of 600 strangers on stage. and although your friends might laugh and forgive you for showing ur panties while tryin to get low, i will be the one taking pictures of your cottage cheese ass and posting it on facebook, while my friends and i thank the lord jesus christ that we dont look like you. truuusstt. so please remember to be easy!

a few months back i was out with some friends and while standing outside to hit a stoge, i watch this chick walk out to the smoking area. she was FFLLYYYY… makeup was on point, not a hair strand out of place and her outfit was smokin. i then watched as she walked to the corner, bow her head, and proceed to throw up the hennessey she just downed. after she was done, she popped a mint in her mouth and lit up a marlboro menthol light. my good friend FD then walked over to her and said, “You are the prettiest girl thats ever yacked.”

Pretty Girl, whoever you are… you are my hero. and apparently, you are also a very pretty drunk.