finally made it back after an extended stay in "i-don't-feel-like-writing-a-GAWT-damn-thing-ville". now i've taken up residence in "aww-SHIT-i-gotta-read-ALL-these-fucking-blogs-land"
i hope you folk have been doing aiight out there. hopefully when i get to your spots i'll only be reading about good shit like love and babies and ice cream and puppies.
how come everybody thinks just cuz i live in atlanta that i have insight into the michael vick situation? look, i ain't in that brotha's head. i have no idea why he would do the shit he did if he did it. i don't know if he's innocent or guilty. i don't know if he's gonna do jail time. i don't know if he'll be back in the nfl. i DO know that i'm tired of hearing about it.
fantasy football is again on. i've got eleven slots filled and need one more player to even things out, so if you're down, hit me up.
my dad and i argue over the stupidest shit....
dad - "what are you doing here? aren't you gonna go get the ice?"
me - "yeah, just let me get my money."
dad - "i thought you were already at the store. you could have been there and back by now."
me - "i was outside with 'swad. mom just told me two minutes ago that i needed to get the ice."
dad - "well get on with it then and stop looking pissed."
me - "well, i'm no longer that teenager who was all eager to run errands for you folk just so she could get a chance to drive the car."
dad (to the hostage audience of my aunt and her husband) - "see, this is what we were just talking about, ain't it?" (to me) - "that's the damn problem."
me - "that ain't a problem for me. that's a problem for YOU."
dad jumps up, cuz at this point he's pissed.
me - "what are you doing?"
dad - "see, you're gonna need me before i need you."
me - "what are you taking about? are you going to get the ice? i told you i'd go get the ice."
dad stomps towards the door in a huff.
dad - "just wait. you're gonna need me one day!"
me (to his retreating back) - "so basically what you're telling me is that if i need you one day, you're gonna deny helping me...over a bag of ice."
mom, 'swad, aunt and uncle laugh.
dad grumbles, then slams the door on his exit.
hopefully i'll never need his kidney or something, otherwise this bag of ice will come back to haunt me.
so i'm at this club on friday enjoying my solitary dancing when all of a sudden i feel a thumb thump up against my ass. i turn, and this little guy is standing there.
him - "wanna dance?"
me - "i already am."
him - "wanna dance with me?"
me - "are you gonna try to stick your finger up my ass again?"
him - "that wasn't my finger."
me - "oh? then no."
it was obvious from thump there was no future there...
what do you do when your cousin's man is checking you out? well in my case, i basically tried to make him think poorly of me so he'd stop looking at me on the sly. initially it was difficult because i'm rather perfect, but i had a fool-proof plan. all i had to do was question his manhood and the brotha was looking at me like he wanted to kill me. i am generally allergic to dimming my own shine, but my cousin has been through alot. last thing she needs is her man pushing up on her cousin.
why are people getting excited about pre-season success? i mean really, most of the guys in those games will be bagging groceries by september. the dallas cowboys have been undefeated in the preseason for the last three seasons but haven't won a post-season game since '96. in other words, call me when the real season starts.
for real though...had these four college kids been white, i'd have heard about this shit on the national news. as it is, i hear about it from someone online...go figure.