Category: it’s in the genes

It’s official, poor white trash is NOT handling the recession well. No ma’m, Not. At. All.

But wait on it… Apparently the 61-year old, Roger Stephens didn’t know Sonya Mathews or her 2 year-old from NOWHERE.  As in, they were complete strangers up until the moment they turned down the same aisle. 

Then according to the news report, Roger warned her that “if she didn’t quiet down the child, he would do it for her.” And just like that, when the ‘ole girl didn’t do anything, he proceeded to slap the little girl not once but SEVERAL times across the face. Talking ’bout, “See I told you I would shut her up.”  I. Am. Done.

Jesus be a fresh pair of Depends cause I swear I’m peeing on myself right now.

Now I admit… there have been many a day where I’ve fantasized (vividly) about smacking fire out of some unruly brat throwing a temper tantrum in a grocery store or public place of business.  Especially when it’s clear that all the cerebral ” we don’t hit, we do time-outs” bullcrap some of these parents are using isn’t worth the spit coming out of the kid’s mouth and the lil’ punk really just needs a swift backhand to cut the shit short. But these are my FANTASIES.  

Now homeboy right here? He is bananas.  

And more importantly, I’m just trying to envision what-in-the-petite-weakish-non-violent-hell this woman looks like or comes from. ‘Cause not for nothing, I really wish a random old man would go hard with ANY of the women I know that have kids. SHEEEIT.  All I’m gonna say is, this right here is the reason for emergency bail money savings accounts.

Let the police sirens wail…

For a minute, when I woke up I thought I was going to have a real whatever day: the weather is beyond miserable, my tummy hurts and the sight of $1400 thigh-high Prada boots in the new Nordstrom catalog damn near drove me to stroll a corner near you.  But then, I saw this video and my whole LIFE just changed.  

‘Cause seriously, why are these two the most out of control dogs EVER?  And even more importantly, why is these woman sitting there and LETTING the dogs basically hump on their faces and punk them???  It’s too much! 

Call me a bad sport but at the point the little pitbull backs her dirty butt dead into the newscaster’s grill, that would’ve been the time to get up and call it a day. No?

You be the judge.

OMG, OMG, OMG! My Mommy (yes, it becomes Mommy in moments like this) just surprised me with a brand new Kindle!!! Woo-HOO, go Mitzi, it’s ya birthday! Go Mitzi, get busy!

Um, actually, it’s not. But yet and still. Big E hooked a sister up for no reason at all, except that she thought it would be something that I’d L-O-V-E. And even though I am SO not the new gadget/ techie-type person at all; I really, really do.

Seriously, tho? There is absolutely nothing in the world better than random acts of kindness. You know the funny card in the mail, ‘have a great day’ flowers on a Wed, taking my car to get washed ’cause you know I HATE to do it or simply having the bed made by the time I drag my butt out the shower. Can the church get an amen? (On the flip side, this is prob the reason I’m so damn relationship retarded… ‘Cause I don’t understand when the person you’re dating doesn’t seem to ever think outside the box and you know, do something special just for the hell of it. It’s damn. My mom is better at his than you and I don’t even got to swing from a chandelier for her…. But I digress.)

THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU MOM. I am SOSOSOSO excited. You just made my whole summer!!

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

Dayum, Craiglist just can’t catch a break!!

Not that either scenario is better than the other but at least the masseuse understood that every time she responded to an ad, there was the possibility of some craziness jumping off. This poor woman unknowingly went to sleep (mind you, their two kids were in the crib) and the man that was supposed to love her ’till death do them part set her up for the straight okey doke. Err-um, no thank you.

And what about the poor schlub who actually raped the victim? As much as rape role play ain’t never gonna be my type of hype, everyone is entitled to their own turn-on. HOWSOMEVER, there’s a gargantuan difference between fulfilling an extreme fantasy and actually committing the crime. This dude has to live with the fact that he RAPED someone for the rest of his life.

Jesus ring the bell…

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. 

See now, I’m already in a mood…. 

Because I have to take Drama to see the vet this afternoon. And everybody that knows me understands that I am HIGHLY sensitive when it comes to my damn geriatric dog. 
So aside from the fact I’m certain to be at LEAST $300 poorer for today’s experience; I’m super nervous that the doctor is gonna tell me something I don’t wanna hear. Like, “No Ms. Miller the weakness in her hind legs that occasionally requires you to lift her onto the standing position is not just her trying to be stubborn.”  Sigh. Pray for me ya’ll.  Not sure I can make it without that mutt…
But THEN, I was perusing The YBF and noticed a post detailing Rick Ross’s feeble attempt to prove that his sunglasses aren’t fake. WTF??  Did you not read the letter that the white boys sent XXL? Or better yet, CAN YOU NOT read the letter the white boys sent?? ‘Cause it sure seemed pretty straightforward to me and all the millions of other literate folks laughing at you and your stylist’s dumb asses.
But wait on it… here’s the actual  explanation: 
Rick bought the sunglasses from Louis Vuitton. But afterwards, he had them customized. (Feel free insert blank star and three blinks.)  
Negro, are you serious right now? This ain’t no car!  Don’t nobody get a pair of damn sunglasses TRICKED OUT. What, was you gonna put SPINNERS on them too? I. Can’t. Officer Ricky will you and your frugazzy, Dade County swap-meet special  sunglasses puh-lease move from my eyesight?  And not now, but RIGHT NOW!

In yet addition of ‘White Women Are SO NOT Handling the Recession Well’- Whatchu know about old school Dallas star, Victoria Principal a.k.a Bobby’s wife Pam Ewing pulling a damn gun on her maid because wait on it… Maribel was taking too long to walk the dog!!

What in the crazy ass-demanding-impatient-pinktoe hell??

It seems the poor domestic engineer took the spoiled Shih-Tzu out for a walk and that little bad ass just wouldn’t drop her load. By the time the two finally returned to the ranch, ole girl was wildin’ out. On sight, Victoria pulled a gun out and ordered Maribel to get the hell off the damn property ‘fore she pumped that ass full of lead. (Okay, maybe she say it exactly like that, but you get the idea).

Humph, humph, humph, I tell ya… Jesus be the melanin that provides coping skills.

Mind you, Pam is currently training to become a civilian astronaut on Richard Branson’s commercial space flight venture, Virgin Galactic. Just so we’re all clear- this woman can’t handle the everyday pressure of her maid taking five minutes too long with the pooch but she wants to head out into space??
I swear ‘fore God I couldn’t make this mess up if I wanted to!!

Okay so just when I thought it was going to be a quiet day in the headlines, I peeped this article about a deranged FL mother shooting her own kid to death because wait on it… the looney toon honestly believed she was Satan. And that by murdering her child, she was ‘saving his soul.’ Um yeah, write that down.

Apparently, 44 year-old Marie Moore took her 20 year-old son to a shooting range, waited for him to get settled in the practice range booth and then proceeded to blow the back of  his head off. 
Check out the above photo that was captured on the security camera… Just. Like. That.
Now here’s my main problem with this madness-cause there are just so many things wrong- this chick had a history of schizophrenia. And apparently, she had tried to kill herself in the shooting range before. Why in the slack-ass-FL-state-gun-law-hell was this nutjob allowed back up in the spot???
I swear, it’s like nowadays they got tighter security in a damn mall department store than a shooting range. Sigh. 
Jesus please ring the bell, we need to stage an immediate do-over on that one right there.

Lookey, lookey here- guess which unwed teenage mom just called off her farce of an engagement? Ding, ding, ding- you guessed it: worthless ass Bristol Palin aka Patron Saint of Poor White Teenage Trash.

As if anyone was surprised. From day one poor Levi Johnston has worn the blatant ‘woah is me, I’m just an innocent teenage redneck. How in the moose hunting- Budweiser drinking hell did I mess around and knock up my jump-off’ expression on his big, flat, playdough face. Walking from press opt to press opt like the only thing he wanted for Xmas was a paternity test… Damn shame. I’m just glad homeboy finally smartened up and bizz-ounced.

Of course, can’t be mad at Bristol for trying to spin the breakup. Releasing the crazy statement about “unnamed people trying to take advantage of her family’s fame” as the reason why things fell apart. Yeah, okay honey bunny. Why don’t you go sit your special behind down and look at Russia?



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