Category: too old for the road

Maybe its just the mood that I’m in but, doesn’t it kinda seem like the celeb gossip blogs are EXTRA boring nowadays? 

Like seriously, I used to live for the insane and totally inappropriate photos on Perez Hilton, Dlisted, The YBF, Crunk & Disorderly, etc but now…. Not so much. 
First of all, its all too clear that certain Z-listers  (yes, I’m talking to you Christina Milian) will attend the opening of a damn tuna can just to have their picture taken on a red carpet.  Then, lemme ask you this- do you really give a damn what Kim Kardashian or Teairra Marie wore to go buy a cup of coffee this morning? Didn’t think so.  Realistically, how many times can a nipple slip, crotch shot, “mysteriously leaked” sex tape or private photo collection be remotely shocking? Yawn.
I guess I just wish celebs would go somewhere and WORK.  Um hello, we’re in a freaking recession. Shouldn’t you be in a studio or auditioning for a new TV show or something?

I’m almost embarrassed to admit it but the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan have gone on so long, I’m almost completely numb to the continual horror stories on the evening news.  Which is probably why I didn’t pay attention to any of the details in the most recent tragedy at a clinic in Camp Liberty in Baghdad when five soldiers were murdered… Honestly, I simply assumed that it was another terrorist’s bombing. But this morning, I learned that it was actually an American soldier that killed his fellow soldiers. SMH.

But wait on it…  Folks sensed that this guy was a loose cannon. Mmm-hmm… Not only was he on his THIRD tour of duty (which already tells you something) but apparently, Sgt. John M. Russell had just been ordered to turn in his gun and undergo counseling by his commanding officer because of erratic stress-related behavior.  
So essentially, while he was at said mandatory counseling appointment, he lost his shit, wrestled the gun away from his escort (yeah, homeboy required an armed escort to the clinic) and shot the hell outta every damn body in the place. Sigh.
Oh and the main reason he was so stressed out?  According to his father, “he had fallen in debt paying his $1,500-a-month mortgage… and he thought they were trying to push him out of the service.” 

Seriously? You’re gonna kill five innocent people who are just minding their business because of a mortgage payment that costs less than most people’s rent in NYC?  No sir, there’s got to be a better way…
Uncle Sam please come get your psycho nephew.

Damn Elizabeth Edwards! Why don’t you tell us how you really feel about your husband’s affair, mistress and the illegitimate daughter he now has??

Seriously, how many years has it been since the former Senator John Edwards dropped outta the presidential race because his mistress came forward with his love child? And his ole girl still ain’t ready to let it go?? Hmm, guess the answer to that question would be a resounding HELL NAW since she’s written an entire book about her husband’s messy extra-marital affair and how it basically obliterated his entire political career (under the guise of being an inspirational self-help guide, of course).

But wait on it… now she’s making rounds in TIME magazine and on Oprah’s couch to throw John even further under the bus; I mean, promote her new project. Hee-hee. Talking about, “I’ve seen a picture of the baby. I have no idea. It doesn’t look like my children, but I don’t have any idea.” Um, did she just call that woman’s child, IT???

Damn, that’s cold.

On the forreal, forreal, I feel horribly for Elizabeth Edwards. I can’t imagine what it must be like to discover that your husband is cheating on you with some no-count, golddigging, bottle-blonde while you’re trying to beat breast cancer. And then the whole messy situation is played out in the headlines? Yikes, no thank you.

But not for nothing… if she’s still so pissed, why stay? White woman in distress, don’t you know the whole world belongs to you? Pack yo shit, get your child and bounce. Otherwise ma, go sit down. Whatever you do, please stop hatin’ on the side-piece- it just make you look bitter. And Lord knows you already look like the cryptkeeper besides that man; no offense.

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!!

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…

Now that the weather is attempting to warm up and we’re in the final stretch of whatever damage control folks will actually accomplish before open-toe season begins, it’s time to deal with the least appealing aspect of the change of season: the new bikini dilemma.

Uuuggh, can I tell you? I ABHORE (yes, breaking out the big GRE words folks) shopping for new bathing suits. Like, seriously? I can by new tanks tops, sundresses and sandals all day every day, but say the word two-piece and I literally wanna throw-up in my mouth. And it doesn’t matter how much I physically or mentally prepare, trying to find a swimsuit that can simultaneously hide all the lumps and bumps yet still qualify as sexy is like water torture.

Honestly, I think the root of problem is that every year, my overall body shape changes- sometimes for the better, most times not. Therefore, the hella cute string bikini style that might’ve been the answer last season, looks nothing but cra-razy this time around. And please, don’t even get me started on those damn boy short bottoms that cut dead in the middle of the saddle bag? No maam, nobody needs that AT ALL.

And call me cheap but the thought of spending damn near a $150 of bullshit sized piece of material that’s only going to hightlight the areas of my body that I’m most insecure about is beyond painful.

So if you see me walking out of Bloomies looking dazed and confused ike I someone just kicked me in the neck, you know what the deal is. There’s nothing to say, just pray.

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.

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…

Oh wait, so lemme tell you what I did this morning… 

Instead of getting my butt up and working on the never ending pile of receipts that need to be added up before my Sunday afternoon appointment with my new tax preparer, my dumb ass decided to attempt to groom my dog. 
Mind you, Drama is not, I repeat, is NOT a small DOG. The only time she was light enough for me to carry her was the very first week she came to live with me.  And I swear, after those first 7 days, I was like uh-uh you gots to sit your big ass on the floor. So now, at almost 12 years old, the last thing her sleep-fart-eat behind wants to do is hold still while I fumble around with some pathetic little brush. Okay?
But I was determined to be economically conscience and save myself the $90 by brushing/ bathing her myself. I mean, in these tight times every little bit counts right?
Okay so, I’m an idiot. 
After two whole hours of brushing and begging her to stay still (cause she may not run but she certainly will lay the hell down) and brushing, my white tile kitchen floor looks like a black shag carpet.  The airborne pet danger is making me wheeze like a dying asthmatic. And worse of all, that fat hooker still stinks. Sigh. I’m done. the rest of  my day will now be spent cleaning up the huge mess I’ve just created.
It’s official- the Lord don’t like a cheap ass.


Soooo after much ado, WHAT GOES AROUND- the third installment of my award-winning teen book series HOTLANTA- hits bookstores nationwide today
WOO HOO!!!  Go Mitzi, it’s your book drop date, Go Mitzi get busy!! It’s a celebration B*TCHES!!
Okay party people, you know what the deal is… time to put your money where your mouth is and show your homegirl some love. Please take a friend and go buy your copies of WHAT GOES AROUND, not now but right now.  
And for those who simply don’t have time to stop by a Barnes & Noble, books-A-Million, Daltons or Borders, then by all means, feel free to click your way over to and purchase it online. 
And not for nothing, it’s still being sold at the recession-friendly price of $9.99. So be sure to cop a copy or two or ten…. I’m just saying.  
It takes a village my brother… 



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