Mitzi Moments

Category: made for the maury show

not part of the vow…

By on June 4, 2009 in going to hell in a handbasket, it's in the genes, it's not a game out there, made for the maury show, tagging out, the internet is the devil, too old for the road

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…

jus’ mad cause she was in the penthouse suite…

By on June 2, 2009 in made for the maury show, pocket full of dirty tissue, work it white girl

There are a lot of really, really, really good reasons to end up in jail: rape, murder, assualt, sex trade trafficking, multi-million dollar white collar crimes, domestic violence, and the list goes on. But adultery? Eh, not so much.

Apparently, a married British woman and her jump-off were arrested after her estranged husband took it the next level and tipped off the po-po that she was getting her swerve on at a 5-star hotel. But wait on it… As if the embarrassment of being snatched up by the cops in the public lobby of a hotel wasn’t enough, both were promptly sent to jail for an entire MONTH behind that mess. Mind you, the couple had been separated and in the process of getting a divorce for a hot minute.

Woah. Can you say, hi hater?

not red carpet ready…

By on May 18, 2009 in going to hell in a handbasket, made for the maury show, pocket full of dirty tissue, work it white girl

Hmmm… did anyone watch that documentary ‘Farrah’s Story’, aka the Farrah Fawcett Death Watch last Friday night? Anyone? Anyone?  Anyone?

Yeah, me neither. And it’s terrible, ’cause back in the day I used to L-O-V-E me some Charlie’s Angels.  But on the forreal, forreal, I can’t get  into the idea of watching someone with a terminal disease suffer to death. Been there done that, err-um no thank you.
Granted, I totally sympathize with the whole need to call attention to the lack of resources available to fighting colorectal/ anal cancer any way possible.  But have we as a people become so desensitized to tragedy and death that an angel has to puke her guts on the camera for folks to give two cents? 
Jesus be a bit a of home-training… just a little bit.

12 is the new 3 in dog years…

By on May 14, 2009 in going to hell in a handbasket, it's in the genes, made for the maury show, supermarket dreams on a bodega budget, why we as a people can't get ahead

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!

he’s not the boss of me…

By on May 12, 2009 in desperate cry for help, made for the maury show, pocket full of dirty tissue, tapped out, why we as a people can't get ahead

Okay Rick Ross, first you’re outted as a fake drug lord and now you’ve been caught wearing the frugazzy Louis Vuitton sunglasses on the cover of XXL?? I am D-O-N-E. 

Um Officer Ricky, I’m gonna need you to go sit down somewhere and be quiet. 

Cause what you know about Louis Vuitton sending XXL magazine the xtra, xtra nasty letter about their recent cover?  It’s so unbelievable, I have to post the notice/ pinktoe pimp slap:

Dear Editor:

We were dismayed to see the cover of the May 2009 issue of XXL Magazine, which features a photo of Rick Ross wearing a pair of sunglasses prominently featuring counterfeit Louis Vuitton trademarks. Because the photo has generated considerable confusion among your readers and Louis Vuitton customers among others, we feel it is important to clarify several points.

The first is that the sunglasses Mr. Ross is wearing were not made by Louis Vuitton, and in fact, are counterfeit. Louis Vuitton did not grant permission to Mr. Ross or to whoever did make the sunglasses to use our trademarks. The second is that no affiliation, sponsorship or association exists between Rick Ross or XXL and Louis Vuitton. The third is that counterfeiting is illegal.

Thank you for giving us the opportunity to correct the confusion.

Sincerely,

Michael D. Pantalony, Esq.
Louis Vuitton Malletier


Mmm-hmm, Jesus be the whiteboys that STAY lawyered up.

But seriously? What kinda shitshow are they running over there? Never in my nine years of journalism have I heard of someone wearing bootleg name brands on a freaking COVER. I mean sure, you can try and sneak it in a video but on a magazine cover? One that’s gonna sit on a newsstand for 5 weeks?  And worse, people can take with them into the store?  (Cause you know that’s how they got caught, right?  Pookie and all his boys bumrushed their local LV store with cover in hand talkin’ bout, “We want dis right ‘ere.” 

And as further proof XXL’s situation is 1-800-over, the mag’s website won’t allow folks to leave comments about or ping the post. DAYUM.

Unless… and you know this is just my conspiracy mind at work here but bear with me… What if the editors put him on the cover with the Canal Street special on purpose???  Uh-huh, yeah. You know, as a subliminal way of calling him a fraud??  Almost to say, if this fat fool really knew anything about the LV lines, he’d have known that he wasn’t rocking the real stuff?? 

No? Not so much? What you say? I’m over thinking it? Oh well, can’t say I ain’t try to  help our folks out… NEXT. 

the height of stupidity….

By on April 28, 2009 in desperate cry for help, it's not a game out there, made for the maury show, pocket full of dirty tissue, tapped out, too old for the road

See…. cuteness is a tool of the devil.

I KNEW I should’ve stayed my vain self at home on Sunday night, enjoyed the unseasonable warm weather and minded my bid-ness.  But NO.  There I go, worrying about this godforsaken bridesmaid dress that I have to squeeze my ass into in exactly 23 days… and I decide to drag my butt to a 6.30p bikram class.
Well wait on it… don’t you know some worthless ass heifer STOLE my damn flip-flops from the friggin’ studio??
Uh-huh, you read that right: Just like hilarious episode of Sex And The City, where Carrie grudgingly goes to the baby shower and her gorgeous pair of silver Manolo Blahniks get ganked, my BRAND NEW black flip-flops were G-O-N-E. 
(Insert image of me doing the most not to lose my shit on all the hippy ass pink toes standing around at the moment of discovery talking about, ‘are you sure you wore them here?  Did you look carefully? Oh, I’m sure it was just an innocent mistake.’)
Innocent mistake my ass!  I even waited until every last person had come to retrieve their shoes- just to see what was left (and quietly, still hoping the person might return with my shoes) Well, guess what? There wasn’t ONE pair of shoes left. NOTHING. NADA. Translation: that dirty mo-fo took theirs AND mine. 
OMG, who does that?  Sure its a recession, times are hard but MY GOD. Who steals flip-flops in 2009??
But Jesus be a neurotic black woman and her shower shoes… because despite all the side-eye that I catch for wearing flip-flops in the communal shower stall(apparently, they encourage folks to go barefoot to reduce the amount of outside dirt), at least my ass had something to wear go home.
Otherwise, picture me stepping out onto 145th Street barefoot!!!  Shiiiiitttt! No maam, not even on a damn dare…

my type of mom…

By on April 22, 2009 in desperate cry for help, it ain't easy, made for the maury show, tagging out, work it white girl

Okay seriously? White women are not , I repeat, they ARE NOT handling the stress of the recession well AT ALL!

What you know about a prominent attorney Park Avenue attorney/ well-to-do Westchester mom getting so sick & tired of her pre-teen daughters’ bickering that she kicked BOTH of their asses out of the car and drove the hell off???

Like seriously? Picture this frazzled white woman (see photo), pulling over to the side of the road in her expensive ass SUV/car and screaming at the top of her lungs- “BOTH OF YA’LL LIL’ GOOD-FOR-NUTHIN’ HEIFERS GET THE HELL OUTTA MY CAR!!!”

OMG, I can’t even breathe I’m laughing so hard right now. Bump that, I’m WHEEZING like a damn asthmatic!!! Cause you know, that right there is some end-of-the-line, to-hell-with-timeout, I’m-kickin’-you-out -I-don’t-kill-ya’ll-dead type ish!

Wait on it tho… While the 12 year-old was able to run, catch up with mom’s car at the next light and beg her way back in; not so much for the little sister. That one got left behind

But instead of carrying her ass home (like any halfway intelligent Black kid would’ve done), the 10 year-old went dry snitching to the cops. And when Ma-Dukes came to pick her up from the station, the po-po arrested that ass for endangering the welfare of a child.

Jesus take the wheel, I am DONE.

andele mi gente…

By on April 17, 2009 in desperate cry for help, made for the maury show, pocket full of dirty tissue, why we as a people can't get ahead

Yo, forreal? Sometimes advertisers be on that ish….


Can someone puh-lease tell me what in the world Burger King ad execs were thinking when they created a campaign for the new Texican burger that features a squat Mexican draped in his country’s flag next to a tall American?

And wait on it…A TV version of the ad shows the strapping cowboy and the pint-sized Mexican wrestler — nicknamed “Just a Little Bit” — living together as roommates. At one point, the American lifts up the Mexican to help him put a trophy on a high shelf.

Granted, this whole campaign will never hit the states or Mexico for that matter.  It ran exclusively in Europe.  Guess, they thought non of the Nordic folks would object, huh? (Insert razor sharp side-eye)

But all tomfoolery aside…  Did it never occur to any of the gringos that green lit this blatantly racist idea that Mexicans (shoot, all native Spanish people) might be a teeny, weeny upset? No? Not even a little pause for concern? Yeah, didn’t think so.
You can take the mule to the water but you can’t make the ass drink.

wet seal certified…

By on April 13, 2009 in cuteness kills, made for the maury show, tagging out, too old for the road

My God, do you remember that unfortunate period of time when flashing the strings of a thong over your super, super low rise jeans was considered a bold fashion statement? You know, right around the time folks actually believed that Sisqo from Dru Hill was anything but 1-800-ON-FIRE? Uh-huh, we sure have lived through some Dark Ages my friends…

Well, what you know about a group of “innovative”Japanese designers (emphasis on the sarcastic quote marks) doing their darnedest to damn us all back into that hell. Yes sir. Just in time for the summer, they rolled out a new style of jeans so low they require the attached bikini straps to keep them up. Talking about, “now women can be even more booty-licious.” Sigh. Bootylicious? In 2009? Really?

Someone please pass me the barf bag.

where are the flashlight cops when u need them…

By on April 9, 2009 in going to hell in a handbasket, i die, made for the maury show, pocket full of dirty tissue, tagging out, too old for the road

Okay normally there is nothing funny about a suicide.  I repeat, nothing funny. But the keyword in the previous phrase would be NORMALLY.  

Yesterday afternoon,  a 50 year-old woman jumped to her death from the third floor of the Queens Center Mall atrium and wait on it… LANDED on a 17 year-old high school kid down below!!
Apparently Derrick Munoz and his girlfriend were reclining in some leather massage chairs when ‘ole girl landed dead on his head and knocked him THE FUCK OUT. Mmm-hmmm… And you know Jesus got jokes when the sign on the back of the chair said, “Sit back and relax.”
Not SIT BACK and RELAX!!! 
OK, on the forreal, forreal, who does something like this?  Who jumps over the banister in a crowded mall? And from the 3rd floor?  Come on now ma, you weren’t even going hard. I know you know somebody with a balcony on the top floor of one of those 30-story project housing buildings. If it’s your last statement, why not make it count?  Sigh, unbelievable.
Thankfully, poor Derrick finally regained consciousness in the ambulance en route to the hospital.  And aside from a large gash on his head there were no other visible signs of injury. 
Ding, ding, ding…

CATEGORIES

Contact

Name
Email
Message

Yay! Message sent.
Error! Please validate your fields.
Design by materialdsign.com