What the Fuck....I've been tagged!!

Ok...so....Royce's Daughter hit me. So...on with the show:

1. HAVE YOU GOTTEN LAID IN 2006?
Of course, I got live-in.....!

2. EVER HAD SEX IN A PUBLIC PLACE?
Alot of shit has gone down in Fort Dupont Park.

3. EVER LAUGH DURING SEX? IF SO WHY?
It's funny as shit when someone be doing their thang.....and then.....SNEEZE!!!

4. EVER CRY DURING SEX? IF SO WHY?
Only because the sex coincided with me coming down off my high. I didn't want it to end, yet!! :-)

5. DO YOU LIKE TO CUDDLE AFTER SEX?
Maybe...after I wake up from my after-sex nap.

6. EVER REGRET SEX WITH SOMEONE?
We all have that very special "regret" in our past or even present.

7. EVER FAKED AN ORGASM?
Naw...no need. Sex is mostly mental for me...and since my mind is all fucked up...I ain't gotta fake shit...it's coming! :-)

8. DIRTY TALK, OR SHUT THE FUK UP?
Ummm...dirty talk then shut the fuck up!!! Say what you gotta say....then...HIT IT!!

9. EVER HAVE UNPROTECTED SEX?
Lord, Jehovah, Budda, Allah, etc...forgive me, for I have sinned!

10. EVER MASTERBATE TO YOUR FRIENDS SIGNIFICANT OTHER?
Ok..so..umm...this here would be some fucked up shit. Hell to the NAW. NEXT!!

11. EVER HAVE A ONE NIGHT STAND?
Let's see....does it count if the one night stand evolved into a relationship??

12. HOW BOUT A 3-SOME?
Only once...I had to try it. Que sera, que sera!!

13. EVER WATCH PORN DURING SEX?
Let's just say the TV was on.

14. EVER THOUGHT OF SOMEONE ELSE DURING SEX?


15. HAS THE CONDOM EVER BROKE?
Nope.

16. WHAT IS YOUR MOST EMBARRISING SEXUAL EXPERIENCE?
Shit...I can't say I've had one. I haven't pee'd on anyone :-)

17. HOW OLD WERE YOU WHEN YOU LOST YOUR VIRGINITY?
Sixteen. As my grandma would say....youth is wasted on the young. And she couldn't have been righter!

18. WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO HAVE SEX WITH RIGHT NOW?
My Boo.

19. DO YOU THINK THAT number 18 IS POSSIBLE?
Hell yea...right after So You Think I Can Dance goes off.

20. ARE YOU HORNY NOW?
Slightly...

21. WOULD U HAVE SEX WITH THE PERSON THAT POSTED THIS?
I'm must decline.

Stop Knocking On My Fuckin' Door!

*** Disclaimer: I take full responsibilty for all offensive, non-diversified, narrow-minded, and sterotypical statements I make....but they're my opinions.*****

Ok....so...like I explained when the Good Humor man rolled through last weekend....I don't live in the hood. However, the saying goes..."You can take the girl out the hood, but you can't take the hood out the girl!" Well....ummm.....if you knock on my door...you'd better cover your ears and duck!

Friday evening.....

Let's me set the stage for my emotional state:

1. I'm beyond pissed from sitting in traffic around the fucking beltway for an hour...so my road rage had not worn off yet. (I hate the fucking motorcycle riders!)

2. I had a conference call at the end of the day that consisted of: "Hi..who just joined. Ok...alot of people couldn't make it today...so we're re-scheduling the call for 9:00a on Monday. Have a good weekend!" WHAT THE FUCK! I stayed at work an hour longer than I wanted to for "WHO THE FUCK JUST JOINED...AND WE'LL RE-SCHEDULE FOR MONDAY!"

3. Black Maggie was out front with Mrs. Strange-ass pulling up dandelions and throwing them on the sidewalk. Her little ass is starting early and trashing the community. (I'm writing the homeowner's association once I get done with this!

4. Yep...you guessed it....I had to pee. :-)

So...I get in the house and handle my business. As I'm washing my hands....my doorbell is ringing. (I think to myself...who the fuck is this!) The sun was beaming hard as shit...so I could barely see whoever it was out the peephole. I opened the door (security door is still closed and locked) to be greeted by two N'Sync looking white boys. I giving up my "what the fuck do you want" mug. And...here we go:

N'Sync #1: Hi.

Me: Hi.

N'Sync #2: Do you have a few moments to talk to us?

Me: No.

N'Sync #1: Well...we wanted to share some literature with you.

Me: That's OK...I'm not interested.

N'Sync #2: Is there a better time for us to come back.

Me: No.

N'Sync #1: Are you familiar with the Church of Latter-day Saints?

Me: Yep.

N'Sync #2: Well...we'd like to talk to you more about it.

Me: Look (rolling my neck) you stand before me trying to pass the word and speaking plain English. I, too, know English and just said I'M NOT INTERESTED. The fact that you continue to stand here, imposing your will, is a true testament that you don't respect me. Soooooooo....let's be good Christians..and turn around...go down the steps and peacefully remove yourselves from my property. HOLLA (while slamming my door!)

Now...I'm not going to go any deeper than the conversation I had with N'Sync...but - DAMN!! Give me a break. No means no..right. So why do the Mormons try to mentally rape you!

But - WAIT - there's more.....just like WWF Wrestling...I got hit with a tag team!

Before I could open the fridge to grab a soda...the damn door rang again. I swung it open and yelled, "STOP KNOCKIN' ON MY FUCKIN' DOOR!!" Yes, I had lost my mind..but so damn what. However, it wasn't N'Sync...this time.....it was Mr. and Mrs. Watchtower. Before my 'brotha' could get a word in...I had to break it down for him.

"Ahem (clearing my throat and taking it down a notch to a low yell). Do I believe in GOD? Yes....but it's my GOD - not the one you're about to tell me about. Am I saved? By what - so no. Am I ready to be saved? I'm not lost. Do I know that Jesus died on the cross for my sins? Nope..I don't believe in that. But what I do believe in is a right to go to work, come home, close my door, and not have it knocked on. Holla (this time slowly closing my door!"

Mr. Watchtower: "Wait...sista. Just take thi....."

beep, beep, beep beep....I punched in my 4-digit alarm code, mixed some Pattron with my soda...and went to chill.

I Chased the Fucking Truck!

SIDEBAR: Ok...this is my 3rd post with the word "fuck" in the title. As Leslie would say, "You're mouth is filthy!" I just love the word...it adds that lil extra PIZAAAAAAAAZ to any statement. Ok...now on with it.

I'll take this time to let folks get a little closer to me...A.Marie.

I had a great day yesterday. The weather was nice. My grass was swaying. Dem fucking bee's that swarm around the flowers next to my front steps had rolled out and were nowhere to be found. *Shereen (my neighbor to the left who's name I don't know...but this one seems to fit) was not outside causing the PG Country draught by watering her damn weeds. *Mrs. Strange-ass (my neighbor to the right who's married to Mr. Strange-ass ('cause they are a strange ass couple) wasn't sitting in the dirt in her yard playing with Black Maggie (the black version of Bart's baby sister on The Simpsons that stays in their bedroom window)...truss...that youngin' is about 15 years-old still sucking on a pacifier. Like I said...it was a great day.

I had a late brunch at Houston's in Bethesda around 1ish. (Even though I did get a little heated when I pulled up and El Negro charged me $5 to valet park my own shit on their weak-ass lot!)

I cruised through Georgetown to do some respectable people watching.

Pause.

Questions:

1. Why do chicks march through Georgetown in their stilletoe's tippy toe'n like their feet don't hurt?

2. Why do white folks stand in the middle of the street like color-blind albino's seemingly amazed at what the colors red, yellow and green bring to civilization.

3. Why does DC continuously allow cab driver's to run the streets like a wharped driving game for the X-Box?

4. Why do people still go to Georgetown? (Besides to people watch :->)

Resume.

So...I finally make it home about 8ish. (Zoom up...that was 7 hours after brunch.) My mind told me I was hungry....or..since it was getting late...I needed a snack. I knew it wasn't shit in the kitchen. I tried to convince myself it was a "sign" and I should start getting ready for work. As I opened my window while sending a subliminal message up above....something freaky happened.

Riinnnnnnnnnnnnng...
rinnnnnnnnnnnng.......
riiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng!

I looked down the street. Here's comes a damn ice cream truck. Of course...I'm like....WHAT THE FUCK! It's damn near midnight (actually 9:00p) and a ice cream truck is rollin' through. He went down the street next to mine and the countdown began.

Pause.

Just so you know..I don't live in the hood...near the hood..or by the hood - anymore :-) I left DC for the 'burbs in '99. (What you know about Benning Road and that Go-Go beat?!)

Resume.

So...I ran down my steps...grabbed my keys and a few dolla's and coins....slid on my shoes and hit the fucking pavement. What goes in a cul-de-sac must come out. I ran (real fat girl style) down the sidewalk and waited. He came around the circle and my eyes lit up. I waved my arm (real 6 year-old like)and he pulled up.

Him (with accent): "What are you doing out here so late? You want something?"

Me: "Do I look like a night walker? I want some ice-cream!"

Him: "I usually don't come this late."

Me: "OK..but you rang that loud ass bell...so I came out. You must be selling beer 'cause all the kids should be in bed. Anyway...I want an Oreo ice-cream bar and a Big Mama Hot Sausage."

Him: "Will that be all?"

Me: "And two packs of strawberry sour-punch straws."

Him: "You have cash?"

Me: "What time is it?"

Him: "9:11p."

Me: "Exactly. That means it's too damn late to ask dumb-ass questions!"

Him: "4.50."

Me: (Handing over 4 bills and 2 quarters.) "Come earlier next time...keep the change!"

I walked back to my house feeling like Gloria in 'Waiting To Exhale' when she knew Gregory Hines was peepin' that ass. I knew some of my nosey ass neighbors were checking me out. I could give a fuck....'cause I held my head up when I chased that truck.

CLOSING: I have a confession. Maggie was in the window when I passed by. I waved my ice cream at her - real petty like. Ha ha...strange-ass baaaaaaaaaby!!

FUBU (Fucked Up By Us)

There is no beginning nor ending to the constant state of "Fucked Up" we (as a people) are reduced to. Yea - we spend our 'county' or 'welfare' checks on Jordans and Hennessy. Yea - we can weave platinum hair onto a bald-weasel before hitting the club. Yea - we will attempt to put 'spreewells' and 'spinners' on a fuckin' toaster oven. Yea - we are normally the most ignant speaking voice on the 5 o'clock news. Yea - we got one-year old diabetics due to red Kool-aid bottles. Yea - we think 'representin' the fucked up block we grew up on is the shit. The list is endless...this cycle of life is neverending......but this shit is now at another level.

We keep the Asian market jumping with bootleg products (i.e. CDs, Tapes, DVDs, pockeybooks, perfume, fake-ass bling jewelry, etc, etc, etc.); corner stores, and - of course - the 'Currrrry Out.' (Mambo sauce anyone - no, excuse me, Sambo sauce!) We keep the hands of THE MAN tightly around our necks by excepting every single thing he hands us. We keep our communities looking like urban shit by throwing trash errrywhere, busting up the fire hydrants in the summer, tearing the playgrounds the fuck up, and allowing Lil' Boo Boo to terrorize the neighboorhood at all times of the night when his 5-year-old ass should be long gone to sleep.

They exploit us....we exploit us. FUBU (Fucked Up By Us) is a reality.

True Hip-Hop is an expression of self. It's an art. But...this...is NOT:

INTRODUCING..........(some shit that - for real - turned the Gregorian calendar back 300 years on us!)

This is just 1 of 11 Rap Snacks. This particular one is Bar-B-Que chips and the bag states, "Bar-b-quing with my Honey!" Can GOD please flip the page on this chapter of our dismay. The company says that these are the 'Official Chip of Hip-Hop.' (This is a pure FUBU demonstration to the highest power.) This crap isn't in the chains....but you'll find them 'in da hood' at your nearest 7-11, High's, Danny's, Lenny's, laundromat vending, and gas station. It probably would've been too much for the communtiy to invent something like 'Black Snacks.' A plain black chip bag. Sometimes less is more. Sometimes we can make a statement by just shutting the fuck up. Needless to say, my disgust lies deep. We turn progress into regress at the blink of an eye.

When did you fall in love with hip-hop?

Yo turn me up Just A Little Bit/so My Mike Sounds Nice/take a look in the mirror of Black America/so the next generation doesn’t see their own reflection/and yell like Kelis ‘I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW’/American Idol ain’t no American Me/we blow smoke like a Puff/and never give a l,m,n,o,p about diddy/why can’t I picture you rolllllllllllllllllin’ a diploma/instead of trying to be the #1 Stunna/if you Ain’t No Joke/then there should be No More Drama/but keep feeding your mind like it’s under attack…..WITH ALL THEM DAMN RAP SNACKS!!!