We are going to keep it short and sweet today. I put my cat Lucy to sleep today. She had come down with toxoplasmosis and her liver was failing. She fought the good fight, as she had done her whole life, but it was time to let my precious little bitch go.


Lucy the first night I brought her home. She was in love with the waterbed, which is where she spent a great deal of time.



Lucy first came into my life 2 years ago. I was moving. She was a stray and jumped in my truck with that look of hers when she really wants something. She stole my heart then and there. I took her to my new apartment, and bathed her. Boy did she stink. Over the next few month, Lucy and I bonded with late night rub downs and her staring at me while I slept. She was growing and growing. Perhaps a little too much. She was indeed pregos. My little slut was gonna have some babies.

And that she did. Right on my suitcase in my closet. She birth out 4 little ones–Dewey, Mí, Levi and Ella. All boys. She loved her kids, but after a while she was ready to go back on the prowl. Standard. She’d sit in front of the mirror and get stare at herself. Admiring her beauty of course. She would be standoffish as hell with strangers, unless it was a man. Then she was all over that shit like white on rice. She’d walk up and just roll in the floor. Working her back around like the hoe bag she was. She loved the men. LOVED THEM.

Over the days that she lived on this earth she developed a few signature traits. Her slut roll of course, but also her bitch face and princess paw. She was a mark of royalty and she knew it. Crazy ass cat.

So here is to Lucy. She’s gone to meet Jesus and I just bet she’s in a room full of mirrors working it like she owns it. (Hey her nickname wasn’t Lucifer for nothing.)

Chris Brown–F.A.M.E.

Now I know that everyone has been crapping all over Chris Brown for is Good Morning America issue, but I understand where he is coming from. The situation with Rhianna happened 2 years ago. It doesn’t excuse what he did by any means but it’s time to move on. His career is about the music so let’s focus on that for a while and not his personal life.

His F.A.M.E. album dropped last Tuesday. Below are the three tracks that I love off of the album already.


Since summer time is approaching (although you wouldn’t be able to tell from the weather the past few days), I decided that I needed to get my brown on. As in, fake and bake. Yes, I know it’s unhealthy and blah blah blah, but I refuse to be a ghost. Nevertheless, as I was laying in my fake and bake machine listening to an old country song, I really got to thinking about standards. Not only your own personal standards, but societies standards of beauty and how it’s usually the direct opposite of what you actually are.

Let’s take white people. We are, well, white. Yet so many of us strive to be tan. Tan is ideal, as is blonde hair, eyes that pop, and huge tits. (Thank you Hollywood.) When we put on that bathing suit we want to look like all we do is stay in the sun. We want to be lean with a great ass. I get it. But why can’t we settle be being happy and white (with lots of sunscreen)?

In contrast the Asian and African-American culture are darker skin tones, yet their culture emulates light notes. “Coffee” is what I have heard is the best color for an African-American. For the Asian culture it’s has white has they can get.

I know that we all have our standards, but sometimes I think the standards of society morph our abilities to find the beauty in the norm. For instance, does it really make any sense that I should turn down a guy because he is neon white, or jet black? No it doesn’t. If the gentleman has the physically attractive qualities that I desire, then his skin pigment is a moot point.

Adults need to be more like children and see beyond color. Don’t lower your standards, but see beyond “society’s” ideals.

You Are Not Welcome

So my day yesterday got better yesterday. It was going swell for a whole 3 hours. I got to communicate, like legit communication conversation skills, with Mr. Soup. He still can’t control his facial expressions, but he seems more relaxed and open with me, which is a positive as I see it of course. Other will disagree with me, but that’s ok. Peace and I head off to lunch and talked like gossip whores we are, and we loved every minute of it. After lunch we were bored so we blogged and then digressed into Yes, we went there. It was epic. My love child with Peace was perfect, minus the mouth. That was totally off. My other love children with some unnameables were close to perfect. Peace’s last love child…was…a…redhead. Peace does not have red hair and neither did her mate. It was legitimately the best laugh I had all day.

Then the day went right back down the shitter. At 244PM to be exact I received an unwelcomed message. The background here is that on St. Patty’s Day my friend Juliet gave my number to a guy that I was dancing with. We will call him Mustang. (He drives a drives a drop dead gorgeous ’68 Mustang.) Anyways, she gave him my number without asking me. I never, ever give out my number to random people like that. Ever. Either way, there was nothing I could do about it at that point. He messaged me earlier this week and was asking about work, school, etc. Just small talk. He eventually told me he had a 4 day pass and this was his last free weekend for a while. Wonderful, right? I told him I was working all weekend and would not be available, which is the truth. I had a huge event for work yesterday and today, a second event for today, and a lax game tomorrow–all day. I thought that would be the end all, say all of our conversation about him visiting, which I wasn’t a fan of anyways. I discovered I was wrong at 244PM yesterday when he told me he was at my place of work, which is a college. WHAT THE FUCK DUDE!? This is not acceptable by any standards. Forgive me, but I told Mustang I was working. Repeat after me, w-o-r-k-i-n-g–working. Why would he think that it was ok to show up unannounced, and uninvited? Manners dude, manners. I told him I was busy, which was the truth, and then I hid in my office like a scary little bitch. I knew that he would never find me in there because I was in a building that he couldn’t access. Thank god. I was panicking, no lie. His actions were creepy and unnecessary. Borderline stalker if you ask me. Regardless, I told him I was busy working on a project, and was unavailable. He said he’d see me later on then. Yeah right.

After a while I had to leave my office to do my job. I had to attend to my event on post. I made Peace go with me. Both of us terrified to see our unwelcomed visitors. I camped out as far away from people as I could get and I had an escape route planned too. Parade led to Mess Hall time. Upon walking down to the mess hall I saw his car. Panic. I walked quickly and with a purpose to get the fuck out of there. It wasn’t until I was exiting the mess hall that I saw him. And what did I do? Went right back in the mess hall and hid behind the door. I knew he didn’t see me, but I saw him. I made Peace be the look out until he left. I thought I was in the clear seeing has his vehicle had departed. Wrong. He came back!

Turns out he had taken a few students to dinner and had to drop them back off. He told me he wanted to see me and then proceeded to tell me he didn’t have anywhere to stay. NOT MY PROBLEM BRO.  I politely communicated that I was busy with work, which I was, and that I told him I was busy all weekend. At this point I was terrified to leave work. I didn’t want to go out to my vehicle alone. I officially knew what people felt when they had a stalker. After 30 minutes of sitting in my office, I made a friend of mine walk me out. I made my way home and then to LadyFriend’s house, where we gossiped, relaxed, bitched about our terrible days, and drank deliciousness from the blender.

It was a good end to a really fucking horrible day. I am still a bit scared that Mustang will show back up again. But as Sunshine said, “Be the cunt I know you can be.” Ha.

PS. For the men out there reading this, take a hint. When a girl says she is busy, she is and/or she doesn’t want to see you. DO NOT BE A CREEPER.

Out Of The Office

So I know I’ve been out of the net recently. I have been very busy at work and on vacation. I find that I have a harder time blogging on vacation. Maybe it’s because I am out of my usual schedule. Maybe because I’m lazy. Maybe because I’m busy seeing the wonders of the world. (Yes, I do that frequently.) Regardless, my bad. Forgive me.

So here’s a little update of my life. I’m stressed out! I have been so stressed and busy that I offered to pay Sunshine to come clean my house. Anyways,  I have been looking for jobs, which is one thing that I hate to do. I have been busy at work planning for a huge event that last five days. Five whole days of community service. I have been caring for my very, very sick cat, Lucy. She has toxoplasmosis. She is making a slow come around. It’s been 13 days since she went to the vet. Poor thing has lost so much weight, and could have possibly suffered brain damage. She had an extremely high fever for 11 of those days. It’s too soon to tell though. I have been busy molesting Mr. Soup, and feeling feelings. Ew. I have been preparing the Club LAX team for a game. Those boys are going to kill me one day. I just know it.

There is a whole bunch of other things going on as well. I’m just not in the mood to discuss them at the moment. But the one thing I do want to talk about is how much men claim to be players, but really they are pussy whipped. I have a friend, FireNY, who doesn’t really claim to be a player but he does claim to be one of the bros. He loves his bros. He really does, but last night he made a choice to miss LAX practice (the bro-est thing there is) to deal with his “relationship issues”. Let me break it down for you like this. FireNY doesn’t really like his girlfriend, but he feels bad about breaking up with her because she has no one else. Last time I checked, her having no one else is not his problem, and he needs to do what makes him happy. Instead he continues to wallow in the filth of a relationship that he has. It’s beyond repulsive. Now, I love this kid and would do anything for him, but dude it’s bros before hoes. It’s getting to the point that I’m about to smack him with a hard dose of reality because he is chasing a dead-end, wasting his time, and his bros are getting annoyed as fuck with it (but still won’t say anything).

Always leave it to a woman to be a crazy bitch.