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Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Fix Me Jesus - Revelations by Alvin Ailey


As you know, I have a wild imagination. So, last night as I
sat in my room twisting my hair, I watched Alvin Ailey videos
on YouTube. I often fantasize that I am a ballerina, lol, don't ask!

Saturday, June 25, 2011

The Whack List

So, I am sure that you all have heard about how the powers that be want to renig funding from Planned Parenthood. The lie on the streets is that the dough that PP gets from the government goes toward providing abortions, when it doesn't. Any who, believe it or not, there were women that were down with cutting Planned off. Marie Claire listed them by name in their new issue, so I thought I would do my part and put them on blast on my blog. Feel free to send them disapproving emails.
The House
Rep. Sandy Adams
Rep. Michele Bachmann (Go figure)
Rep. Diane Black
Rep. Marsha Blackburn
Rep. Ann Marie Buerkle
Rep. Renee Elimers
Rep. Jo Ann Emerson
Rep. Virgina Foxx
Rep. Kay Granger
Rep. Vicky Hartzier
Rep. Nan Hayworth
Rep. Jaime Herrera Beutier
Rep. Lynn Jenkins
Rep. Cynthia McMorris Rodgers
Rep. Candice Miller
Rep. Shelley Moore Capito
Rep. Sue Myrick
Rep. Kristi Noem
Rep. Martha Roby
Rep. Ileana Ros-Lehtinen
Rep. Jean Schmidt
The Senate
Sen. Kelly Ayotte
Sen. Kay Bailey Hutchison

Friday, June 24, 2011

Quick Fast V-Nasty Verse


Listen, I am no Chris Brown. I rarely comment on people's craziness online. But his dude annoyed me.

posted by fuckrareware: she grew up with black people in oaktown all you malcom X and Huey Newtons fags need to shut the fuck up about her saying nigga. God damn its 2011.

posted by hjclay24 (me) @fuckrareware: I like her sound, I think she's cool, but just because she grew up with Black people, doesn't make her Black. Seeing that she grew up in the Black community, she should know how hurtful the word can be and its history. Malcom X and Huey were our leaders, not rappers that exploited our ingnoraces-not fags. Grow up, wake up, and learn your history...nigga.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Not Curious

Last night, as I cuddled up against my fan in this hot ass house, I get a text that says, "Wat Up Sexy?"
My response, "Who is this?"
"Terrence." (aka Curious)
I don't respond.
He texts, "Do you miss me?"
I erase the messages.
Here is the thing, I am hella lonely. But not lonely enough to be some one's backup when they get lonely. I haven't heard from this fool in damn near a year. Please! And had the nerve to text me at bedtime? Talk about trippin'! My new thing is trying to go forward instead of backward in life. Curious is old news. For God Sakes, I met him on Myspace! Slightly disappointed that he thought he could contact me, very excited that I didn't text him back.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

The Back Up Beau

All the men in my life are in relationships, which sucks, because I can't talk to them when I want to and when I do get to talk to them, they tell me all about the highs and lows of their new loves.
Eyeroll.
Don't mean to sound like a hater here, but I don't really care if I do.
Somewhere through the course of my life, when it comes to my male friends, I have become like the back-up beau! Like I'm their personal Madame Cleo that is there around the clock to help them with their lives and their relationships. I'm like a shrink that doesn't get a check or something when it comes to these dudes, only for them to not take my advice, and then complain to me a couple of months later.
Truly, I can not roll my eyes hard enough.
This is not cool. This is not a role I want to play for the rest of my life, at all.
I have been thinking about this a lot lately. Not that I am really attracted to my boy homies, but what is it about me that always puts me in the friend zone? I used to think it was the whole fat thing, but I have fat girl friends that aren't even as cute as me that are engaged. I have boiled it down to me being too cool.
Ladies, being the cool girl in the group is about as much of a death sentence as being the guy bff that the girls ignore because he is "too nice." For what I have found, through surfing Facebook photo albums and examining my friends, is that no one wants to date the cool girl. No one wants to bone the cool girl. No one wants to buy the cool girl drinks. It's all about the obnoxious girl that carries her purse on her forearm and takes pics with her friends at the club in the bathroom.
Sigh, I guess I am just complaining. Ignore me.
There was an event at The Body Shop and they took my picture! Don't I look adorable, lol:)


Thursday, June 16, 2011

The Pep Talk

Yesterday night, my friend Sash and I had our monthly pep talk. You know what I'm talking about. The 'girl, you don't need him...the right guy is out there...we will get married one day...no you don't need to lose weight...you should try painting your nails...God has a plan for us....we are fly, damn it!' pep talks that girl bffs tend to give each other from time to time. Although draining, it is a necessity. I know for a fact that if Sash and I didn't have these talks on a regular basis, I would want to check out of life completely. These conversations provide me with the lies that I need to keep moving forward.
Anywho, last night I gave her a pep talk on why it could possibly be reversible that she played off the 'are we together' conversation with her boytoy(sike!), and she told me that I shouldn't stop trying to date just because men suck(bs). And as I was talking to her, pealing potatoes to go in my green beans, a horrifying thought came to me: "Sash, what if we are like 35 still having to give each other these pep talks? What if we are 35 and still are not married?"
And she was like, "Girl, that won't happen."
Lies. But one of those necessary lies you have to tell yourself to do life like, "Child birth won't hurt...you can't tell I've gained weight if I suck in my stomach...I can get my taxes done if I start the day before they are done."
Most of the women in my life over 40, including my mom, are single, and have been single for a LONG time. So the only role models that I have are Kerri, Miranda, and Charlotte, and they were in their 40s before they found true love. And that is fake life. In real life, if you are not engaged by the time you graduate college, dating is going to be a nightmare.
But who needs honesty from their friends? Real life is the truth and a real kick in the face. It is the morning after our conversation and my pep is already wearing off. Perhaps we should go from once a month to once a day.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Kreayshawn - Gucci Gucci


I don't think I'm a basic bitch...but truth be told, if I had the money
to buy Gucci or Prada, I probably would.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Little Nickies



When I went to NYC last month, I was walking through Harlem with Fran and was dumbfounded by the amount of women and girls with Nickin Minaj wigs on- blond, pink, and even green hair! Watching a girl, dressed normally with a platinum weave, Fran goes, "It's another Nicki."

I laughed, happy I was going back to Atlanta, where girls rocked lace fronts.

Clearly, while I was away, this horrifying trend took a red eye to the A. Today on the train I saw a GROWN woman in a black and pink bob wig in her airport work uniform. More shocking than her hair style was that she was able to keep a job with her hair like that.

Question: has everyone missed the point? Nicki Minaj is a character! I watched her little music doc on MTV, and she didn't dress all crazy until it was time to perform or do promotions. Any other time, it was jeans and heels- normal hair. The public's inability to be see this is even more alarming than running into a tween at the bus station with hot pink tracks, believe it or not. Must we take everything at face value??

Well, I guess I should just be happy that the little girl down the street is dancing in her front yard with a teal hair piece on and in not butt pads. Thank God for the small favors.

Friday, June 10, 2011

Running Into Crystal

I ran into a girl named Crystal that I went to high school with at the train station the other day. She lives in my neighborhood, so I see her all the time. But this time kind of spooked me out.
When we were in high school, my now very gay ex-boyfriend dropped me to date her. She is now married to the boy that stood me up for the prom. She has three kids now, including a set of twins by the dude who pulled the prom stunt on me. She works in the cafeteria in a hospitial and pretty much looks the same.
After pieces together how we are connected, it gave me the heebies. I mean, her grandma has Alzheimer's too. It was weird.
So Wadley came to town! We didn't have a lot of time to spend together, but we did go to Atlantic Station for lunch and for ice cream. Then, I took her to my favorite jewelry boutique, where I had to beg her to take this shot. Ah Waddles...until next time:)

Sunday, June 5, 2011

I don't know if you knew this about me, but I sketch shoes. Meet my latest creation, yet to be named.

Sesame Street - ¡Hace Calor!


It is HOT is the A right now, and I can not get this song out
of my head!

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Gross, Gross, and More Gross

Last night, as I walked down the street, returning from the event I went to, I watched my roommate flee the house with one of her random beaus. Sigh.
I opened the door and the house actually looked smokey from all the fucking that undoubtedly took place. The hallway smelled of hot ass and sweaty vag from her leaving her door open to air it out. Rolling my eyes, I was just happy I was gone as to not hear anything,
So, she calls me to ask if I could go in her room and turn off her lights and close her door. Annoyed, I go to her room to do so to be greeted by an empty Magnum wrapper on the night stand.
You could call my a sexual conservative. I have been called a prude. Lauren calls me a Nana. And I assure you, I am NOT anti-sex. But I do believe it is a private act, you know? I should not be able to hear it, see it, and most importantly, I should not be able to smell it.

Drained!

Lately, I have just been feeling like everyone wants to just take, take, take from me. People have it all wrong. Being a giver, not baring children and bleeding once a month, is woman's lot in life. But unlike cramps, it seems like people's demands on my resources and on me is just never ending. Lately, I have just wanted to turn off my phone and put a pillow over my head. It's like EVERY PHONE CALL is a demand on me.
My brother, Cass, is begging me for my beloved, yet out of commission, E-Machine to rip apart and try to put back together based on a book he checked out in the library! I am spiritually connected to this computer! But does he care? Not really. My youngest brother, Anthony, wants me to help him start a wrestling blog. My sister just consistently wants my attention. My mom wants money. My job wants my soul and strangers on the train want my vagina. ENOUGH! I wish my grandma was of sound mind so I could ask her how she dealt with EVERYONE wanting something from her ALL THE TIME. I know I did, and expected her to come through, every time, no questions asked, and she did. I feel like teaching me how to deal with girl stress is something I should have been taught in health. You know, something I could use, other than how to put on a pantie liner, something I never use.
Until I can figure out how to deal with it, I am going to do the only thing that I know works- eating vanilla wafers with my phone on vibrate while watching the Vicar of Dibley on YouTube.

Ghost Town DJ's - My Boo


This is like my FAVORITE summer song ever. It never gets old.

How Much?!

I went to this event last night and ran into a girl that I met early on in my career. She is hella cool and chill and is always at all the "it" events.
So I start chatting with her. I hadn't spoken with her in a long time. She had on these really cute threads, and, being nosebud that I am, I had to know how much money she made as a freelance journalist to be able to afford such a swanky wardrobe.
She didn't want to tell me. And that is just because girls don't talk about that stuff, not because she is a bitch or something. But, after enough of me pulling her finger back, she tells me that she freelances pretty much for two sources, and she makes like $300 a month for one and $785 every two weeks for the other.
"HOW MUCH?!" I screamed. I swear, I lifted ten feet off the ground. I couldn't believe my ears! $1870 a month, not counting the the odd, irregular writing gigs she gets. Are you kidding! That may not sound like a lot to you out of towners, but a single woman in Atlanta can live on that kind of money. Do you know what I could do with money like that? Well...neither do I. But I figure I would eat every day of the month. I figure I could order a dress at OldNavy.com at the $20 retail price and not have to wait until it is on clearance!
Yet again I have been shown how GREATLY I underestimate my value.

Girl Day

Guys, this past week I was on deadline. I had to turn in hella articles and such, and I have to tell you, it was very trying on my body. I just wanted to crawl in a hole and hibernate, but I couldn't, because every night this week I had an event to go to. I just feel gross.
For one, my room looks like something that crawled out of hell. My toe nails have chipped polish on them. My skin feels hella greasy, I am in desperate need of my chocolate mask. There is so much that I need to do.
So, later today, I plan on doing it. I don't know, maybe I won't feel like I'm drowning then. Right now, I feel like I am trying to go to sleep in a garbage dump.