Mitzi Moments

Mitzi Moments

its my two cents…

By on March 13, 2009 in feedback

On the forreal, forreal, undearneath all the sarcasm and side-eye, I’m a total romantic at heart. Like, I want to be wined, dined, swept off my feet, fall head-over-heels in love and spend the rest of my life acting a fool over how good my man is to me.

Now then, in my quest to find the man that makes all the above and then some happen, I’ve come to accept (begrudgingly) that I might actually have to look outside of the island of Manhatttan. And I’m not even talking Hobeoken, NJ here. What if you finally meet ‘The One’ and he/she lives in oh I don’t know, let’s say…. Japan? Mmm-hmmm, Konichiwa bitches!

If the individual said, ” I love you. Come be with me. Don’t worry, I got you.” Could you just pack it up, kiss the ‘rents and bounce, WITHOUT a job in place??
I’m not gonna say great minds think alike BUT I’m definately rolling with the 69% who answered the poll question with a resounding ‘ain’t no way.’ As much as I love the idea of loving you, my nerves are too bad for all that believe in the dream nonsense… especially during this so-called recession (cause we’re no longer claiming it). I’m so not about to be left trying to piece my life back together this late in the game because I pressed pause on my financial independance when I joined your squad. Oh hell naw, it’s too real in field. And I dont wanna have to call my cousin to come kick your ass cause negroes wanna play those “you can only take what you came” with games.” Uh-uh no thank you.

As for the 30% who are down for whatever and willing to move without a second thought, I don’t know what to say… On one hand, I applaud you for the faith and courage to still believe in happily ever after despite the dismal dating realities our generation faces. But please believe, I’m already rolling my eyes in anticipation of the day I receive the “Mitzi puh-lease come get me, this fool is trippin'” call. Yeah, I said it. Cause I don’t care if dude (or the female) is ballin’ outta control, at some point he’s gonna trip and mention the fact that he’s carrying you. And if you’re any friend of mine, it will pop off. And then what?

Granted, I’m not saying that I won’t eventually get my ducks in a row and come… I’m a true believer that when the right person comes around, it only makes sense to go hard. But I ain’t going no harder than my pockets will allow. Forreal, forreal.

they’re crying in trailer parks nationwide…

By on March 13, 2009 in it's in the genes, made for the maury show, pocket full of dirty tissue, that sense of entitlement

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?

negroes and flies…

By on March 13, 2009 in going to hell in a handbasket, honorary white woman, tapped out, why we as a people can't get ahead

Between preparing for, hosting and recovering from the BFF and baby’s visit, I’ve been a tad out the loop. Which is the reason, I’m just now getting around to reading the story about the recently released text messages that stoopid ass Kwame Kilpatrick sent out on his government issued cell phone. And to be quite honest, we might all cringe at the arrogance of his behavior but on the low, low…

What you know about Kwame killin’ them hoes PROPER?

According to the court documents, there were 682 pages of text messages sent! Um excuse me, who got time to send that many damn text messages? Am I the only one who wants to know when the hell was this man ever WORKING??

Beyond the ridiculous number of texts, how ’bout what they actually said? In one breath he tells Christine Beatty (‘ole girl that’s still locked up behind this mess, while his ass was released early) that she is the “wind beneath my wings.” But like three exchanges later, he wants her “to talk to me while I do you. Tell me to lick faster, softer, higher, lower, etc.” Okay, perhaps I’m a little slow, but how you go from quoting Bette Midler to talkin nasty??

Then wait on it… 10 messages later, he’s telling the 2nd sidechick, Natasha Dooley that “my dick needs to be sucked. It’s been a while.” Oh yeah? Is that so Mayor Kilpatrick?

Granted, while all the above foolishness is popping off, the First Lady a.k.a Ms. I-Will-Beat A-Hoe’s-Butt-in-the-Mayoral -Office-If-I-Catch-U-Screwing-My-Husband inquires about the status of her Navigator. Jesus haf mercy.

Tyler Perry come get the script to your next straight to DVD movie!

Sidenote: Apparently, Kwame is now suing SkyTel for releasing the text messages. Umm-hmm… Talking about he wants $100 million for the violation of his privacy and constitutional rights. I swear I couldn’t make this up if I wanted to…

off to see the little mermaid…

By on March 11, 2009 in i'm not ready to be a grandmother, miracle on 169th street, Mitzi- all day every day

So after much ado, Shayla and Sklylar Ann Marie (a.k.a Sam) arrived for Sam’s first ‘Big Girl’ trip to New York. YIPPIE!!! I am thrilled beyond belief to have the BFF around.

But for the record, as much as I love, love, love me some Sam; I am sososo clear that everybody (specifically yours truly) ain’t able. Who knew so many questions can be asked in the span on of day? Damn that, one minute? Sam’s energy level is unbelieveable. She’s like a non-stop Energizer bunny- going, going, and still going. For the record, hell hath no fury like a four year-old without her midday nap.

What is most amazing to me is how calm Shayla is about everything. Oh, you fell down? No problem, just get up. Oh, you want to be carried up and down steps? Up you go. Oh, you want to scream/ whisper the same secret 30 times in my ear? Feel free. I promise you she was calmer than a Jedi Master- unforreal.

And to think that crazy woman has 14 children and 0 help??? Sheeeit. Good luck.

remember the food stamp…

By on March 10, 2009 in it's in the genes, keep hope alive, using our powers for good

Oh weee! You know the recession is real when the rich folks start to get nervous. Mmm-hmmm…

Ain’t nothing more telling than billionaire investor Warren Buffet on CNBC talkin’ bout, “the economy fell off a cliff.” Oh yeah? And this is new to you? Wow, must be nice to be so insulated…

But the good news is my people, we are built for this. Yes sir.

Because unlike the pinktoes who are just now trying to figure out the value of a discount and what it means to cut corners, me nd my mine been nigga-rigging the hook-up for years. And everbody and they mama knows how to make a dollar outta fifteen cents. Word up.

1-800-Stay Focused!

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