You know I enjoy fuckery just like the next person...
While enjoying the 25th hour at work, I walked outside and was scarred for life by the crime scene I bared witness to....
A woman suffering from camel toe of the a$$.
First question; is that even possible to have camel toe in between those flapper jack a$$ cheeks?
Second question; how the hell did she not notice it or feel a rubbing sensation?
I mean damn, I constantly pick my wedgies no matter where the hell I am.
If it's not obvious by now, I have no shame.
I refuse to walk around acting like I'm not bothered by cloth lodged up my a$$.
While enjoying a evening at the theater, my friend asked a question,
"What's the dress code here?"
Clearly by this comment, you can assume that I'm going to hawk up plenty of jokes in regards to theater attire.
I swear on somebody elses dead grave that, not once, not twice, but several times I saw club wear at the theater, mind you the show was The Color Purple.
Club wear??? Really, really, that's all you could manage? You couldn't come out pocket to pay for spandex slacks from your favorite retailer, Rainbows. I could have sworn I saw the sign buy one get one free.
I'm not sure if these chicks were trying to find a husband or a STD, but either way that 'ish was just rude.
Men thinking it's okay to invite you somewhere via text, sms, bbm, or IM...
Do you honestly think we can take you seriously that way?
I'm learning to sit with my feelings and tolerate what the season has to offer.
I've just finished week two with Laura, Alex, Sophie, Amy & Jake, and Gina.
For those who may not be familiar with the show.
In Treatment is about Paul, a psychotherapist who has come to a braking point in regards to his practice and his marriage.
Paul, has to juggle the impossible task of maintaining ethically boundaries with his patients, tolerating his family matters and his own therapy. You didn't know, all therapist have therapist!!! And the cycle continues.LOL!!!
When the season begins, it's obvious that his patient load consist of black and white thinkers who either hate him or love him.
In Laura's case, she loves him. Literally. Come week 2, she admits to wanting him to f-ck her!!! Talk about "You get what you pay for!!!"
Alex is a veteran fighter pilot who keeps Paul on his toes every week. He type-A personality with a touch of sass.
The man declares Paul as his own personal, Adolf Hitler to all his important decision making.
He always has a dilemma and expects Paul to give him resolve.
Alex decides that he should end a marriage of 15 years because his wife grinds her teeth whlist alseep.
**insert side eye**
Sophie is a teenage gymnast who's injured both arms either due to her "accidental" clumsiness or as an escape from the pressure she feels from adults in her life.
She's a wise-cracking patient. But out of sheer observation, I believe her to be one of Paul's favorites.
He actually feels like he's helping this young precocious girl.
Lastly, his couple Jake & Amy. Once again he's put in the position of being the ultimate decision maker for whether they should or shouldn't.
Jake & Amy are on the brink of a possible divorce, whether they notice it or not. Their debacle centers around Amy's current pregnancy. Abort or not to abort, is the question. Jake wants another child, Amy does not.
After all this Paul is now allowed to unload his baggage on Gina, the supervisor who supervised his practice 9 years ago.
All in all, the show isn't really all that entertaining.
There's a mystique about it and I believe that to be the appeal to the vast majority of folks who stay tuned.
I would say this show can not be watched in one days sitting. You must watch it as it was intended to be viewed.
I'm sitting here minding my own business "working", listening to my Ipod.
Chester French's mixtape is playing and their, "Ciroc Star" feat Diddy and Jadakiss comes on.
**Insert Side Eye with a dash of conjunctivitis**
Chester French is bomb. Their mixtape is genius and their album is on some next level 'ish.
I partly sweat them bc they were breed in the heart of beantown.
"Beantown We Go Hard...."
I'm slightly appalled by two things that caught me off guard.
Diddy needs to just stick to his clothing line. That nicca can't rap, and even when he wrote his best mediocre lines that was in the the real Bad Boy Music era.
Lawd only knows you ain't no certified gangsta.
If you do one more shameless plug for your L, Ciroc, I'm gonna have to murk you.
Look kiddies, I used the word of the week in a sentence.
So, after having to subject my ears to such nonsense, I got myself thinking about Diddy and why I have a deep seated hatred for that nicca.
Yeah I said it. I'm not a fan.
For all those who may be one iota offended about what I'm about to drop on this Fecal matter named Diddy, stop while your ahead and check out some other post of mine.
First I would like to start by saying I hate you. Let's not confuse it with love. I know you methodically thought to yourself that this heffa is hating cause she ain't making guap like I am. You're right a$$hole. That's the reason I do hate you. Because you are making money. Making money off the slave trade you own, named Bad Boy.
Jesus spoke to me last night after Judas tried to trade me his gold coins for my SAAB and said there's a special place in hell for you right next to Bernard Madoff and his money grubbing ways.
You're what I call a Jack of All Trades, but a master of none.
You rape and pillage young aspiring models turned whores for your benefit.
You conquer, defeat and divide groups so they hate themselves.
You manage to mock the Black community more than VH1 has in the past three years.
Well Diddy, looks like you're the first Black owner of slaves post 18th century.
You deserve a cookie, better yet a cookie laced with rat poison.