Category: pocket full of dirty tissue

Amy Winehouse’s father Mitch released a statement calling his lil’ pride & joy a “stupid girl” for claiming to still love her estranged husband/ partner-in-crack Blake Fielderman. While I applaud him for what I assume to be the pinktoe version of tough love (cause you know a black father would’ve been beat her ass back into rehab about five years ago when the problem first started), don’t you think we’re past the point of name calling?

I mean, from what I can see, the only thing seperating Amy from the homeless lady on the train that smells of pee and old period blood is a residual check. No offense.

Personally, I think Poppa Winehouse should call Key-Key Cole’s mom Frankie and ask her to help the family stage an intervention. Cause Lord knows Frankie’s got the inside track on how to deal with drug drama.

And call me selfish but I really, really hope they’ll turn the whole thing into a reality show. You something like, Saving Amy-The Day the Winehouse Shut Down. Mmm-hmm, and then the world would finally get to see what happens to that dusty beehive when they toss her 10 pound ass into shower. Shoot, I’ll bet my lucky drawers that trainwreck would be bigger than Flavor of Love season 1!!

Sigh. Well, until the season premiere, check out the before and after Amy photo gallery attached to the article about Poppa Winehouse’s quote. So disturbing.

In fact, I may have just thrown up in my mouth. Excuse me please.

As of today there are t-minus 67 days until Toya’s super sexy 2nd wedding. And since my lil mini-me has decided that she wants her bridesmads to wear specially designed super short, very low-cut, fitted cocktail dresses, Operation Pull-It-Together is in full effect.

First, there were three weeks of the crazy 6.30a bootcamp workout to jump start the mission. Although I’ve done bootcamp in the past, that sure didn’t make going back remotely easier. Real talk? I still don’t know how I managed to wake up and get out of my house by 6.10am 4-days a week. ‘Cause if you don’t know anything else about me, please understand this: I am not the one for the early mornings. But praise god, somehow we made it through. And now, I’ve committed to daily hot yoga and at least 4 days of cardio at the gym.

Okay, bump what you heard about feeling more relaxed, detoxed and zen-like after bikram yoga. I’m gonna keep it real- that b.s. is kicking my ass coming and going. Seriously? I feel like 2 cents. From my toenails to my scalp, every inch of my body hurts. I can barely make it home before falling on my face. Ain’t nothing relaxed, or zen-like about me. And let’s not even talk about the gym… OMG, this morning I was on the elliptical machine for 15 minutes sweating and heaving louder than the 350lb woman on the machine next to me. Mind you, my resistance level was only 5. WTF?
So the next time you wanna know why I’m not thrilled to be in one of my very closest friend’s wedding, lemme tell you- it’s not the money on a dress I can only wear to a club in Miami or Vegas. It’s not the hours of my life lost stuffing envelopes with save-the-date cards. Or even the big ass hole homegirl has talked in my head with all the wedding day drama. Nope, all that is water under the bridge. The core issue is the damage control.
It’s trying to find a waistline that I haven’t seen since the summer of ’08. It’s eating an orange when what I really want is a warm chocolate chip cookie (or two). It’s the bars of deordorant that I’m going through trying to hide the constant state of stink I find myself in. Dammit, I’m tapped out!
For the record, I will so not be offended if any of my peeps decide that they don’t want to be in my wedding (whenever the hell that actually happens) because they’re soft and squishy. Just keep it real. Not only will I understand, I promise to save you a second slice of the cake.

So apparently the sale of sex toys is down in France.

Accordimg to the Reuters (cause no, I don’t make this foolishness up) “at ‘Big Eropolis,’ an erotic fair that opened on Friday near Paris and bills itself as the biggest of its kind in the world, attendance was healthy but stall owners said customers were not spending as much as in previous years. ” So basically what you’re telling me is that nowadays people can only afford to buy one Mandigo sized dildo as opposed to the dido, body paint, handcuffs, vibrating ring and so on?

It’s offical, times are hard my people.

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?

Ok, so I’m doing my morning troll thru the headlines and came across this breaking news story about a random 12 year-old British boy named Alfie who “thought it would be a good idea to have a baby” and knocked up some dingbat 14 year-old chick named Chantelle from around his way.

Apparently there’s all this shock and outrage because these poor (literally and figuratively) children were unsupervised and having sex at such a young age. And wait on it, now all the girl’s neighbors are dry snitching on the parents, talking about, “They let the kids run wild on the street until all hours, they have no control over them.” You don’t say?

Last time I checked, there were more than enough 13 and 14 year-olds in the United States knocked up or pushing a stroller around the hood. And if the Jerry Springer show’s consistent top teir ratings are any indication, there are probably 3x as many undocumented cases in the countless middle America trailer parks.

Call me jaded but exactly what’s the big deal here? Maybe it’s just a slow news day…

Oh RayJ. Sigh.

Of all the random low-life folks being given a dating reality show, YOUR dumbass is the one that gets caught up in a paternity suit? Seriously? And to make matters worse, its the chick with the big ass tattoo on her face nicknamed ‘Danger’? I can’t.
But wait on it… Somehow or another (’cause miracles and mindblowing BJs do really exist), this low-rent Mel B has now managed to become engaged to Nick Cannon’s brother, Gabriel. Which brings me to the most shocking part of this post- who da hell knew Nick Cannon even had a brother???
Uugh, it’s all so dirty. Excuse me while I go take a shower.

Not for nothing, this whole Chris Brown/ Rihanna situation is beyond tragic.

Two of our biggest music stars fighting in the street like a bunch of alley cats? No maam. If you ask me, both of their ill-behaved asses need a quick slap in the back of the head. Like, did you fools not get the memo that we have a Black President? Ya’ll ain’t the new Ike & Tina or even K-Ci & Mary! Puh-lease pull that shit together- not now but right now!!

And what’s really sad is that dude is only 19 years old. Chris is not even old enough to buy liquor and he’s already got a quick backhand? Seriously C-Breezy? Is this what you really wanna do? Cause last time I checked, you wasn’t nearly hood LIKE THAT. Humph. Well, if folks thought domestic violence amongst the teen and young adult demographic was just a good Tyra Show show topic, clearly you need to think again. It is very real out there….

Okay seriously? These pinktoes are outta hand, you hear me? Let a little economy crunch come along and they can’t handle the stress AT ALL. Just turning on each other like a barrell of crabs, I tell you.

Why did ‘ole girl show up to her own sister’s wedding reception UNINVITED and then proceed to WHOOP that ass in front of family and guests??? I’m talking old school style- she dragged her sister to the ground, punched her in the head and proceeded to rip out tufts of hair for good measure!
Cause the Lord knows I love Maury as much as the next trash TV obsessed viewer but this right here is damn near beyond Jerry Springer/ trailer park/ coal miner’s daughter type behavior.
Not for nothing, $5 says the sister’s new husband is Annemarie’s ex-boyfriend/ good for nothing baby daddy. And he probably forgot to tell her that they were broken up. Mmm-hmmm, don’t trip. You know you were thinking the same exact thing…

Good lord, the pink toes never cease to amaze do they?

First they were shopping in secret and now that, surprise, surprise, this whole “recession thing” hasn’t gone away, they’ve formed an anonymous support group for the girlfriends of finance guys!! No really, I’m not even kidding. I swear I couldn’t make this up if I tried…

According to the NYTimes, the group of NYC women refer to themselves as Wall Street Widows and the name of their support group is Dating A Banker Anonymous. And in case you were wondering, there’s an open invitation to any woman who fits the following criteria: “if your monthly Bergdorf’s allowance has been halved and bottle service has all but disappeared from your life.” Seriously? Just so we’re clear, you’re complaining about the change in a lifestyle that you’ve become accustomed to BEFORE you even got married??? Oh my goodness, that is so gangster!

The members meet once or twice weekly for brunch or drinks at a bar or restaurant to commiserate on how the plunging stock market and depressed economy have turned their former type-A, cocky, super human, richass finance boyfriends into whimpering, needy, erratic BROKEASS nightmares. Talking about, they’re moody, up all hours of the night checking the Blackberry and wait on it- aren’t exactly performing in the bedrooms. YIKES.

Good luck Becky Sue…

Question: why do owners of small and minature dogs think its appropriate to stand by and watch their pet attack a larger dog?

Every time I take Drama for a walk through the park, somebody’s little foo foo dog comes running up to growl and snap at her. Luckily, Drama could care less about other dogs so for the most part we just keep walking and eventually the little mo-fu will get tired and return to its owner. No harm, no foul. (Of course, there was this minature Yorkie that nipped her nose and drew blood… I won’t get into the specifics of what I promised the owner would happen if her pissant dog ever came near us again but let’s just say, it hasn’t happened since.)

So lemme tell you, my neighbor Glaydys owns two minature chihuahuas, Ruby and Brownie; as well as two pitbulls, Mindnight and Hannibal. (I know, I know it’s a lot but try not to get sidetracked with the details.) Anyhoo, Ruby hates Hannibal. Like, every single time Hannibal walks near by her little basket/ home, she jumps up, loses her little mind and attacks his legs, tail, nose, or whatever else she can reach. It’s a mess.

For the record, on numerous occasions I’ve warned Glaydys about letting Ruby run amuck. But everyone in the apartment laughs me off because she’s so tiny and Hannibal doesn’t pay her any mind.

Well you know what they say- all good things must come to an end.

I guess Hannibal was in a bad mood last night and finally snapped back. Don’t you know he grabbed her up by the neck, shook her around and tossed that little ass straight across the room. Mmm-hmm, just like that. There was no blood drawn but poor thing was shaking leaf for at least an hour afterwards.

Now you know… if you have a little nosiemaker for a pet, you better act like you love it. Cause they can get it.


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