Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Chef Boys-Not-Me

I would like to take a moment to pay my respects to the Betty Crockers and Chef Boyardees out there.

Y'all are great people. For realz. Not just because you can create magic whenever you want (with resources). But you have a talent that I not only value and appreciate, it's one that I have absolutely NO INTEREST in developing.

I'm so impressed by many of my homies. Y'all can GET DOWN in the kitchen and it is really something to witness and enjoi. A few years ago my uncle cooked for the family as he usually does when he visits. But it was this particular night where I finally understood why men want women who can cook. The "Do you cook?" question was always such a big turnoff for me until this moment. I had come from a hellish day at work, and a frustrating class right after that. I was tired. I was hungry. I was bitchy.

I turn the key, walk in, and INSTANTLY I'm smelling something that carries me without legs. I wash my hands and sit down to food that not only aesthetically matched it's smell, but it TASTED GREAT. It was such a mood shift that I couldn't ignore the power of what just happened. To have that experience as a default on the regular? That's just dope on another level.

So what's my big whoop against cooking?

Well, for one, that shit is WORK. Straight up labor-intensive work that requires attention and instinct. I lack both of these requirements. Besides, I've come to terms in the past year or so with my laziness. Now that I have finally accepted it, I can clearly avoid manual labor with honest integrity. And I ain't down.

Secondly, recipes LIE.
They will create and sell you entire books of flat out lies. 30-minute meals my ass. How about they factor in the real deal and estimate how long it's going to take you to chop up and mix everything before...actually no. Let's go to the required grocery shopping time beforehand, THEN add in the prep time. After you expire that HOUR of your life that will never come back, you now have to cook the damn thing. Oh but you aren't finished...no sir! You have to CLEAN UP after all is said and done. Now you tell me how accurate any recipe's cook time is.

[Besides, I've never fried a thing in my life and I'm scared of hot grease getting anywhere near me. French fries are great but that's what Checkers is for. I don't need to try at home what they already perfect in drive-thru.]

My last complaint about cooking is that it is EMOTIONALLY HIGH RISK. You can spend all of that time shopping, prepping, and cooking only to have the food you made to NOT be pleasing to those you serve it to...how whack is that? Honestly? I would cuss someone out who didn't eat what I spent all that time making. For realz. And they clean up.

And I know what you're thinking,
"Well how do you expect to get married and feed your family without being able to cook?"
To that question, I respond with this:

I will let that marinate, and YOU can take a wild guess at what my matrimonial and motherhood ambitions are at this moment in my life....



Monday, May 28, 2007

***Lay It Down, Laila!***

You go, Laila!
Shocked the hell outta me to see you get down like that, but YOU GO, LAILA!!!

And I ain't gonna lie...

I did jump when she first spoke.
(Can you tell I don't watch the show?)

The bass in her voice caught me off guard.
You know, if homeboy didn't have the accent, you might not know who is talking if you closed your eyes but whatever...


Keepin' it cute...
and checking reporters that question it, lol.

Sunday, May 27, 2007

***Clap it Up***

Ladies and Gentlemen...

I present to you, 2 year-old Temptation prodigy,

Maurice Watts Jr.

Friday, May 25, 2007


My inner fat girl raised her eyebrow yesterday at some pound cake, bananas & blue cheese, and peanut butter on a spoon. When cravings are this out of control (and the foods don't match), it means only ONE thing:

The red sea is upon me.


***More Moments of Wisdom***

"If thou haveth 'Hot Hungry Breath',
do not tell secrets in public places."

--- joo no hoo

[Fact: "Hot Hungry Breath" is the #1 killer of short-distance communication]

Female Flatus Freedom

I upped my fiber intake this week to 20 grams/day and now experience an astounding abundance of gas.

It's really out of control.

And not just due to the chronic gas-passing, but I'm now a regular on the poo circuit. (It's awesome!) I mean I have crapped out entire countries in the span of 5 days. Nature's Own has a double fiber bread that contains 5 grams in each slice (that's dope compared to the usual 3). I'm currently running an experiment to see how long the groceries I purchased Sunday will last me. As of now, $75 will go exactly 5.5 12-hour work days (which equals 2 tofu sandwiches per day).

I'm guessing that 20 grams of fiber a day is my tipping point.

And I'm sure that by now, a lot of you are pissed that you're even thinking about farting and poo, but that brings me to a point... How come women can't fart??

Married Folks and Left lung-Right lung couples have probably surpassed this state,
but (for the rest of us) what's up with that?

Women should have the same farting rights as men.

Driving home I couldn't help but be thankful I wasn't in the presence of anyone from the dating circle. Can you imagine??? But then I asked myself why couldn't I? I'm convinced that 2 of the guys could do it and get away with it by making it "A man thing". Women can't make farting cute. My brother has even declared that he would break up with a chick who did that in front of him.

The moment a guy is fartable and poo-able with,
you probably either share bloodlines

or are on your way to Left lung-Right lung Couple Land...
[or you blamed the stench on something believable]


Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Communion Shot Sunday

Week before last, I visited a church not too far away from the crib of the Parental Unit. Now let me give you some background about this "chuuch". This particular church is a spin-off of another (by the same name) in a different area, and same magnitude. Kind of like how "A Different World" was a spin-off of "The Cosby Show"? Yeah...that was new to me too. So anyway, I get there for the first-time ever 11:45 service. Why it couldn't just start at noon is beyond me, but whatever. I went.

So I'm greeted at the door, escorted and seated. The choir is singing and the band is jamming. I mean getting DOWN! Lemme tell you something, you ain't gotta like God. You ain't gotta like religion. You ain't even gotta like Black people. But you have to be deaf and dumb to not appreciate the Praise and Worship part of a Baptist Church. The music and singing can just be ON POINT! When the singers hit certain notes, you almost forget that they are as trifling as you are. Almost.

However, the band will never be outdone and will always reclaim the spotlight cuz they'll get the singers leanin' and rockin' in the choir stand. I've also learned that the musicians are crucial for the "Come to Jesus" part of the service. I've gone to a church (you know what I'm talking about) where the music was straight up game show like. It had that whole tick-tock-you're-running-out-of-time-you-evil-unholiness. With background music that progressively speeds up after each "Oh yall don't hear me..." you're guaranteed at least 5 "I ain't sinnin' no mo!" folks down the aisle.

It's so great.

You gotta watch them though. Cuz those sneaky folks will pull one on you real quick. You start singing "Blessed Assurance" but for some reason have the urge to walk it out. If you listen closely, you might catch the secular remix. Thus far, I've caught Biggie's "Crush On You", "Purple Rain", and some Earth, Wind, and Fire.

So anyway, after a good 8 choir selections and a slip up during a testimony I realize that the Pimp... I mean PASTOR is running late. Never before with my Negro eyeballs have I witnessed such a thing but it all made sense. The announcements were made, the second offering had been taken, the prayers had been prayed, it was time for the finale...20 minutes ago. Folks were stalling for time. But I wasn't irritated at all. No sir! Why? Cuz not only did I find this incredibly humorous, but I learned that I lucked up on one of my favorite Christian experiences:
Communion (Shot) Sunday.
If you know what I mean, you know what I mean. Most Baptist churches do grape juice and crackers. And folks will slurp, gulp, and throw those little plastic tongue-splashers BACK! It's always fun to see who the alcoholics might be. When I was little, I used to be so upset that I couldn't have a "snack" like the grown ups. Then when I finally was able to participate, I was a greedy ass and I always went for the fullest cup. Now, I take my Communion Shot after everyone else to enjoi the quick inhibition of the subconscious.

Now tell me you see a difference between the glasses...

***Barely But Beautiful***

A picture is worth a thousand words....

But TWO pictures?
LOL! Lemme stop...

So 2 weeks ago, I'm driving my visiting cousins to the movies to see Spider Man 3. I'm not too hyped about it but I did it. On the way, a radio commercial for Halle Berry's new movie came on and I started thinking:
This chick has made a crapload of movies and I can't think of any that are good because of HER.

Think about it.

She did an Alex Haley TV movie, "Queen", and folks don't talk about that movie today. "Roots"? All day. "Queen"? Who? She did Boomerang, Jungle Fever, Swordfish, blah blah blah. Check out her resume (click here). It's a lot right? Did any of the ones that she starred in not suck or disappoint though? I'll admit, I enjoi'd her in "Monster's Ball" but it was for one reason only. In that movie, she proved that cheap clothes can still be cute if on a good body. But I swear whenever she plays an "urban" character she sounds like a runaway slave. I was waiting for her to say "Massa" in a few of her non-Queen flicks.

But she's pretty (which we all know).

And I'll be damn if she doesn't make 40 look like the new 25.

BUT I dare one of y'all to say
she's a great actress.

Go ahead. With a straight face.

I'll wait.

Unh huh.

Thought so!


Wednesday, May 02, 2007

***Fresh Squeeze***

Okay God, I get it: Mexican food and Dairy Queen 4x a week was never a good idea.

Everyone who weighs more than me is going to roll their eyes but whatever. I've expanded way beyond the bloated boundaries of menstruation. This here ain't no water weight. When you squeeze into corduroy pants and keep hearing the beat of "The Percolator" song while you walk, it's time to re-evaluate why your thighs are now making house music. That's what I get for "deserving it" every time I had the craving. This also MIGHT have something to with being one month shy of my "Whatchu Mean Workout?!?" anniversary. But why couldn't I have gained weight in the off-season? Then I could work out in the pre-season and be right for game time. Oh well. Gotta love tunics and empire waists!

P.S.- God, if I say something really nice about Beyonce, Jessica Simpson, Tyra Banks, Reese Witherspoon, Taye Diggs, Marc Anthony, Puffy, Loyd, and how S.J. does NOT smell like chlorine and tartar sauce, can I please wake up with Naomi Campbell's legs??? Just for the spring and summer? I'll give them back afterwards!

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

***Could it Be??***

If SuperPimp (my cell phone) was a man,
I'd be married right now.

Know this.

And our relationship isn't perfect. Lately he's been lying a lot. He'll say that I have a little battery power but then he dies on me mid-conversation. I was heartbroken the first time it happened but I forgive him and move on because I'm not perfect either. I question if it's possible to truly love inanimate objects, so I checked out the definition in the Bible. (My mother would be SO proud!) 1 Corinthians 13 reads:

I knew it!

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