Category: i’m not ready to be a grandmother

And so it begins… the attack of the adolescent R&B singers. SMDH. Can please tell what in the auto-tune hell do these little boys know about girls loving them down? Perhaps it’s just me but, why are they even on cellphones enough to be singing about this nonsense? Shouldn’t their little skinny behinds be in a classroom LEARNING some ‘ish or something?


Here’s the thing, I’m not mad at little kids wanting to be performers and singing their little hearts out- if it’s Disney appropriate. Why? Cause that’s the appropriate demo. But when you’ve got CHILDREN running around wearing deep cut v-neck t-shirts, pretending to be grown before they even hit the double digits, it’s a totally different story.

Were are they going to go from here? Songs about seduction? Um, no thank you. We’ve already got a rising pre-teen pregnancy problem in our communities. I’mma need their management to pull out the Jonas Brothers blueprint and get on that. Leave the gyrating in florescent lit hallways to Trey Songz, et al. Forreal.

Oh, and if somebody don’t explain the length of Ray-Ray’s damn hair… *grabs scissors*

I had such a good weekend! I swear, it was full of so many firsts….

Attended my first Fashion Night Out (copped the crazy hot pink lipstick that will be making appearances all fall/winter long). I finally visited to Six Flags/ Great Adventures where I rode on an adult roller coaster for the first time (so damn scary, I will NEVER do that again). Oh and thanks to last night’s extra uninteresting VMA show, I actually heard my first Justin Bieber (eh, reminds me of a less talented Justin Timberlake without as much flexibility).

Nope, I can’t complain at all.

Speaking of underage performers with way too much hype, I’m curious to know what you guys think about Willow Smith’s new first single, Whip My Hair.

While I’m the first to admit that the song has a great beat/ contagious lyrics, doesn’t it concern you at all that a freaking 9 year-old is the one singing these lyrics? Like forreal, homegirl isn’t even ten and she’s already talking about having “haters”? I mean not to be funny but ain’t Willow and her brother home schooled? Who hating on her? Listen… *sucks the back of my teeth HARD* That child doesn’t even have friends, let alone haters. So, what’s next? A song about her falling in love? At NINE??? I can’t with that image.
Oh and if nothing else, lemme ask you this: While all that sass is really adorable on a music record, is it gonna be as cute when your little niece, nephew and godkids start whippin’ their hair at you?


Right. Didn’t think so.

I’mma need Jada to try and find some age appropriate subject matter for her daughter PRONTO. Cause right now, lil Willow is steady reminding me of those nosey little kids that are always busy eavesdropping on their parents conversations when they should be playing with friends. And then, repeating back the gossip like they’re an authority. Uh-uh, too grown.

Love the Smiths as a Hollywood powerhouse but this right here is truly bordering on a parental fail.

So today’s the day the FDA decides whether to approve a drug to boost women’s libido a.k.a. the highly anticipated Viagra for females… Interesting.

I see a lot of experts are on the fence because they believe a lowered libido in women is less physical than mental. And therefore, they feel it should be treated with psychotherapy or counseling versus medication. And quietly, they probably have a valid point.

But I’ll tell you what- if God forbid, my libido ever slows down, I don’t want to spend a single, solitary minute talking about wanting to have sex. Nope, not even one. Just gimme the damn pill and let me get back to getting it on.


Seriously, can you imagine how many relationships and marriages would be saved if all a woman had to do was pop a pill and suddenly be turned on by their partner? Man listen…

Just LOOK at the majority of men you know who are in their late 30s, early 40s. How many of them have already noticeably deteriorated from rock hard, 6-pack toting, he-can-get-it-all-day, 20 year-olds into the extra comfy, soft tummy, man boobs and flabby arms cause the most consistent exercises they’re doing are talking ish to their boys and lifting the remote control grown men? Mmm-hmm… Now wait on it, imagine what that’s gonna look like at 65??

*grabs the smelling salts*

And don’t get me wrong, I’m no more mad at the dudes than they are with us women. Change is a part of life. Fuck what Dr. 90210 told ya, having the body of a 21 year-old until the day you die is NOT NATURAL. I refuse to be working out 5 days a week for the rest of my life. No way. And neither should my husband. ‘Cause when I’m 75 years old I d not want the man in my bed to be all hard body, knees, and elbows. Uh-uh, to hell with that. Yours truly is gonna need something nice and easy to cuddle up with on them cold nights.

HOWSOMEVER, if said soft & squishy man expects me to be gonna be playing find-the-penis under his 6 pound belly on a regular basis then a little picker-upper will probably go a long way. The End.

*drops the mic and walks away*

Awww, remember ABC?

Not for nothing, when ‘Iesha’ hit the radio them lil’ boys were like the hottest thing since sliced bread. Jumping around all over the place, wearin’ bedazzled overalls with no shirts on, doing one-handed push-ups, talking about how they met this cutie with a bootie at the playground. Mmm-hmm… Oh and please don’t front like we weren’t ALL trying to learn every step of their dances including Red’s backflips.

Too funny.

Every time I see these little knuckleheads on the train breakdancing for dollars, I’m reminded of the group. Sigh. I wonder where they are now… Back in Atlantic City? Fingers crossed, they saved some of that 2-hit wonder money for college. I’d sure hate to find out they were still chillin’ at the playground….

*blank stare*

It sure is hard being a parent nowadays, huh? Not that I would know a damn thing about it BUT I gotta admit, reading the recall notice on ALL the Maclaren strollers sold in the US since 1999 kinda made my childless-by-choice nerves bad.

I’m saying, not one or two but TWELVE little kids had a finger chopped off? Woah.

But wait on it… Apparently Maclaren has known about the manufacturing defect for FIVE years. And yet, did absolutely nada. Talking about they were under no legal obligation to report the issue… Err-um, please feel free to insert the classic *Blank Stare W/ Three Blinks*

As if there isn’t enough things in the world to worry about when it comes to the babies? Now, you gotta be careful you don’t “traumatically amputate” a finger or two? Uh-uh, no thank you.

Looks like the United States isn’t the only country where grown folks are wildin’ out on out of control little kids

Apparently, a couple in England went to dinner at a newly opened Mexican restaurant with their somewhat “outspoken” 2-year old (READ: unruly mini tyrant whom probably deserved a quick pinch under the table).  When their beloved lil’ Molly started to get antsy and fuss (at the top of her lungs, I’m sure) about the service being too slow, the waiter took it a tad personal.  Umm-huh… 

Now I know what you’re probably thinking: ‘Eeewa! He put something in the baby’s food!’ But no, homeboy wasn’t nearly as passive aggressive.  Instead, he kept it 100% live, and listed a line item charge for the  “little f**ker on the bill!  Can you stand it?? 

Jesus take the wheel… cause I can’t.

Hate her or love her, comedienne Kathy Griffin can’t lose. I swear, this clip of her spoofing Kate Gosselin a.k.a the current Queen of Gossip Rag Exploitation is priceless.

What you know about the dead-on reverse mullet wig? Or giving your clearly Mexican looking children the tears of fame to drink? Oh and for the record, I die for the surgery scars!

Err-um, why is Ruby (my neighbor’s bad ass miniature chihuahua) pregnant AGAIN?  

Like seriously? Not for nothing, all that runt does is bark her head off, pee on my doormat and get knocked up.  She’s like the four-legged welfare queen of my building.  It’s too much.

So anyhoo, I go over to offer my congrats on the impeding births. Cause you know, rule number 1000001 to surviving life in the hood: do not judge. If you don’t think four dogs ( 2 chihuahuas and 2 pitbulls) in one cramped two bedroom apt isn’t already a lot, so be it. Have at it. 

But wait on it… don’t you know this hooker is knocked up by her own son from the last litter, Brownie!?!?!

Ruby + Brownie= a little bit of vomit in my mouth right now.

Jesus be the ASPCA because yours truly is DONE.

Err-umm, I know most parents stop whooping their kids when they get old enough to comprehend but real talk? Some of these hard headed mo-fo’s need to be beat all the way up until they turn 21 years-old. And preferably with a large, thick, you-gonna-remember-this-one-right-here leather belt like the one my Dad used on my lil’ ass back in the day… Uh-huh, yeah, I said it.

‘Cause if more teenagers understood that they could still catch a bad one from their parents, we damn sure wouldn’t have bored children enlisting to become assassins in Mexican drug cartels, playing themselves out in ridiculous reality shows like NYC Prep or walking into tattoo parlors talking about, “hi. I want you to tat up my body to the point where the only place I’ll ever be able to work is a circus.”

Because in what can only be attributed to a lack of fear of the parental beat down, 18 year-old Kimberley Vlaeminck decided to have 56 freaking stars etched into the side of her FACE. And to no one’s surprise but her own, her father completely lost his shit when that fast ass got home.

So naturally, like all immature, adolescents under pressure Ms. Kimberley went straight into denial mode.

Don’t you know, this silly child had the nerve to insist that she’d “only asked for three stars, feel asleep in the chair and woke up with a galaxy on her face.” You ONLY asked for three stars on your FACE??? Feel free to insert the blank stare with 2 blinks.

But wait on it… Her parents actually believed that bullshit!

I mean to say, not only did they believe it but they proceeded to hire a lawyer and press charges against the tattoo artist/ parlour. As if any sober person in their right mind could sleep through 56 stars being inked on his/her face… I. can’t.

Needless to say, not even a week later homegirl got caught on a hidden camera admitting that she knew all along what the tattoo artist was going to do. So she’s had to issue an apology, retract her statement, lost the almost $18,000 her parents put into making the claim/ hiring a lawyer, et al.

So ummm, I’m just going to go out on a limb and say, this right here. This is what happens when “time outs” go horribly wrong. No offense

So the morning after the wedding, I was so exhausted there are no words to describe.  You know that borderline hysterical, everything hurts from the ends of my matted hair to the chipped tips of my toenails type feeling? Where you really, really wanna cry but there’s no rational reason to do so?  Yeah, that’s where I was with it. 

But since it was my BFFs fantastic 44th birthday, I had to drag my ass down to APT to help her properly ring in another year.  And lemme tell you, Joan Morgan is beyond. She was working the most scandalous sequined mini and wearing down the dance floor like it was the 80s. Shoot, if this is how good it’s gonna look 10 years from now I can’t wait. 



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