Lord haf mercy, mama gettin’ old!
Lord haf mercy, mama gettin’ old!
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.
Um hi. I’m looking for my waistline, have you seen it? It disappeared sometime shortly after August and hasn’t been shown any kind of definition since.
I’m beginning to worry because according to the all the damn catalogs and invitations that keep flooding my mailbox, bikini/ wedding season is around the corner. And considering I don’t have a baby to blame there’s really no excuse for the bulge that insists on making its prescence known over the top of my jeans. Not at all.
So seriously, if you live uptown and belong to NYSC, please holla at the kid. Cause I’m in desperate need of a focused workout buddy to help with the search.
Anyhoo, as usual, in the last 48 hours of the year I am running around trying to do all the things that should’ve been accomplished in the past 363 days. I’m trying to make returns, drop-offs at the Goodwill, find a new desk, clean the apartment from top to bottom, workout and of course, find the perfect dress for New Year’s Eve.
And to think, I thought I was having a rough time lately… According to AP reports, it’s gonna cost Madonna close to $75 million dollars to get a divorce form guy Ritchie. And the best part? That’s the settlement! He didn’t even take her to the mat for cheating with lameass A-Rod. Damn.