Wednesday, August 29, 2007

***Celebrity High: Cheat Wisely***

Let's say you're taking a test that decides whether or not you graduate. You aren't ready and it's time to either prepare to fail or cheat to win. You decide to cheat. You've got 50 Cent on your left and Beyonce on your right....

Whose test do you cheat from???
50 Cent:
"G" is for graduation.

Remember that.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

***Fox Killing***

The Hollyhoodness that is Vivica A. Fox... (Yes, that would be her hairline UNDER the headband)

... recently celebrated her 43rd last week.

Not a fan.

But I will give her props because there was one moment in time that I did like her. It was one scene in a movie that I was (and still am) too punk to finish. Remember this?

Very thorough.

No stunt double either.

Quite impressive, no?

Friday, August 24, 2007

***Loving My People***

For some reason, this week was the week of "Hometeam Reconnection". Starting on Sunday, I have talked to, and had really great conversations with, friends that I haven't talked to in a while. As coincidental as it all seemed, it has definitely had an impact on my week:o) It's easy to assuage rough workdays with an ongoing, love-ladden happy melody playing undisturbed in the background.


I just wanted to say that.

I know a lot of great people.
I'll try not to brag but I really do:o)

Monday, August 13, 2007


You know what?

I think I've unintentionally figured something out.

This kid came into the office and put an advanced movie screening flyer on everyone's desk this afternoon. I picked it up. Samuel Jackson and Josh Hartnett (yum!) in a boxing movie called "Resurrecting the Champ".


Another sports movie???

How do people get to keep making movies like this??? How do you pitch yet another sports movie to a studio with confidence????

"I've got an idea for a movie."
"About what?"
" What's the spin?"
"The main character is from Wyoming."
"I love it! Let's put 20 million behind it. Somebody cut this kid a check..."

It's sooooooo old.

But to the men that watch them they aren't.

You know why?

Cuz sports movies are to men what chick flicks are for women. I know that statement will turn off a lot of testerone but it's true. It's the same Cinderella story only with jock straps and jerseys: some person with "potential" goes from invisible to undeniable. Whether it's a devil wearing Prada or Sly Stalone beating the snot out of somebody, it's the same doggone thing.

Ya'll thought y'all were slick too, huh?


We want to be Pretty Woman just like y'all wanna win the Superbowl.

(Although our movies are usually centered around getting the guy
and y'alls movies are about winning the championship
AND getting the girl.)

So ladies...

the next time they have something to say when you wanna watch your chick flick IN PEACE...

you know exactly which card to play;o)

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

Muscle Man

I think I caught a potential stalker y'all.

I say "potential" cuz I have a lot of Court TV training under my belt.
(I'm a recovering junkie. I'm okay with admitting it.)

I met him on Friday and our brief exchange was enough to pass my "Give Him a Chance" test: he wasn't hard to look at and he didn't do/say anything that offended me. In my law of rationale, that's good enough for a first date. So I gave him my number. Besides, I've come to realize that people will always cancel themselves out anyway. No energy lost on my end at all.


I got my first call from him around 8:30 this morning. This is before I become human, BEFORE I can see straight (I hadn't acquired my 4th bruise yet), and BEFORE my English is comprehensible. I don't know what all was said but I remember intending to call him back on my drive in to work. A few WTFs later, I decided to not demonize him because "some people are just early risers".


So I call him back. Come to find out, he was leaving the gym around the time he called me. We chat. For some reason, I'm straining my brain trying to remember what this guy really looks like because his b*tch a** voice didn't match the muscular 6-footer I thought I talked to.

So we're talking and in a typical getting-to-know-you type manner he asks "So what do you like to do for fun?" It's a necessary question, I guess, but for some reason it's always irked the crap outta me. I answer. Then (of course) in typical getting-to-know-you fashion, I ask him the same question. To which he replied, "Oh I like to work out and go to movies."

((Whoaaa...pump brakes homie!))

"Really?" I say. "You like to work out? How often do you go to the gym?"

"Oh about 6 days a week."

Oh HELL naw! I don't dig beefcakes. Dude is doing nothing but lifting weights in front of a mirror 6 days a week like it's that hotness. I could understand if there was a PURPOSE to his gym membership, like health or maybe intramural sports, but no. Homie is straight up doing it for vainglory. No athleticism required whatsoever. Major turnoff.

He might as well be from Alabama.

Oh and check this out. Where is he from? Cali-forn-i-a!

Once revealed I quickly follow up with "What part?"


"Oh okay." Luckily, I'm still holding out for an Oakland experience so I rolled with it.

Well our 15-minute chat ends with potential plans for the weekend, and now I'm about an hour and a half into my morning workload when my cell rings. It's Muscle Man. "Why is he calling me? Did he forget to ask something?" I didn't pickup to preserve my momentum.

Out of sheer curiosity 20 minutes later, I check the voicemail. "Hey, it's me. I just wanted to see if you got into work okay." Now I know the gesture was meant to be sweet and kind, but I didn't hang up saying "Awwww!". What I remember thinking was "This is NOT allowed to become a habit." But I shook it off cuz I get what his intention was.

30 minutes later, a text message from Muscle Man: {Busy?}

"Is he serious???", I said out loud. {Yes. Very.} I replied.

So after a couple more text exchanges, Muscle Man goes away and I regain my focus.

Please tell me why Muscle Man text me AGAIN on my lunch break around 3pm?????
M.M. {Busy?}
Me {At lunch}
M.M. {How's lunch?}
Me {Tasty}
M.M. {You're silly but it's cute}
Me {Only when I'm not hungry. Then I become Queen B.}
M.M. {That's hot!}
Me {So is Hell.}

I was trying to be subtle and he wasn't catching on.
So I stopped responding.

Tell me what happens around 8:30 p.m.? That's right! You guessed it! A call from Muscle Man!

"I'm still at work." I say flatly after I answer, which was true. "I'll have to call you later."

"Okay." He says.

And for the grand finale...

guess what happens around 9:15 pm?


Yet ANOTHER text from Muscle Man!


Dude, you have no f*kk'n idea...

Sunday, August 05, 2007

Fifty and FIERCE!

Now this is what I'm talking about...Robin C. Brooks:
52 years-old and FLY!

(As stated in Vogue magazine's 2007 August issue:)
Robin Brooks, 52, chairman and CEO of Brooks Food Group
At 52, she has gorgeous, unlined skin and a body most 25-year-olds would kill for. But there is a strength and a presence that go well beyond the clothes and the car and the immaculate grooming, beyond the gold-and-diamond Cartier Tank Fran├žaise watch and the vintage gold Cartier bangles and the pretty pear-shaped topaz held by a thin gold chain at the nape of her neck. Call it glamorous gravitas, and it attracts not just attention but respect.

Self-maintained, successful, and making it look GOOD at the same time.

This right here is what all of my current vanity is for: future options.

I don't give a damn about how attractive I am considered at my age right now. If you ask me, this is the way nature designed it and it means absolutely NOTHING.
I'm young.
Time is on my side at the moment.

But to be considered such at 40 and 50-years old???
THAT is when women need to pat themselves on the back!

Think back to high school or college when certain people were considered to be "It" factors.
Then a few years later, you run into them at the grocery store and find yourself trying to mask your disappointing shock of their downfall. Some folks just aesthetically peak early, which is unfortunate.

But for the late bloomers?
We have an edge, lol.

Okay, that sounded really f*kked up but it's what I think.

One day, I tell ya...

one day:o)


I try not to reveal my zodiac sign to folks.

A lot of people don't know much about astrology to care, but for the more astute sorts... *sigh* it's just something I'd rather keep to myself.

I don't follow horoscopes but in terms of personality assessments, I'm all ears. Why? Cuz I got my ass called out in '04 by this book. Quirk-for-quirk, page-for-page, there I was on paper. I was shocked to learn that things that I considered to be "Me things" simply weren't. You can't defend yourself to a book, lol. It was a very helpless feeling. The book was quite accurate. Eerily so. Some people aren't typical of their sign, so I can understand their skepticism. I am, however, very much typical of my sign.

So today, this guy at work says to me...

"You're an Aries, right?"

"Huh? What makes you say that? Did I say that?"

"I think so. Or maybe you didn't. But are you?"

" Why do you ask?"

"You are, aren't you?"

"Not telling. But why did you guess Aries?"

"I know Aries."

"Shut up, Paul."

Just when I was patting myself on the back for becoming more tactful....

I HAVE gotten better (dammit).

And don't be fooled by the book title. It's just marketing tactic so the author can get away with some "sistagirl" and "brother" speak.

If you ask me,
there are only 3 books people need in their lives:
  • The Bible
  • The Dictionary
  • "Black Sun Signs" by Thelma Balfour
(Especially if you're single. This should be your dating bible. For realz.)

I didn't even care about astrology until this book.

But now?

You can't say Sagittarius around me without a "Proceed With Caution" raise of the eyebrow.

Thursday, August 02, 2007

***Whoop Whoop!***

Whoopi Goldberg will always have a job.
I've never seen anyone come and disappear as many times as she does. Somewhere in Hollywood, there's a click of Jewish big wigs with "I Love Whoopi" membership cards.

The View, huh? Okay.

If you ask me, I have the perfect token "alternative" female for the daily round table discussions...

Yes, Perez I agree...Lauryn Hill is definitely the new Whitney Houston!

(How many times did you say WTF? I stopped at 23.)

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