Friday, July 29, 2005

You can't START Pimpin' at 60.

O.K. ya'll, I just had lunch with the husband and as we were sitting there, I saw this guy who I SWEAR was attempting to make a change in his career. You see, this man HAD To be trying to be start "the next phase" of his life as a pimp. This nigro had a hair do and I swear that nigga's hair looked like this...... No lie ya'll..... the nigga's hair was the SAME color as this birds.......where's a camera phone when you need one!! And the nigga was ALLLLL of 65 years old. The nigga also had the "wish-I-had-good-hurrr" plastered in waves on top o' da head, the 1/2 shaded sunglasses and the pinky ring ta boot. Now, he's on the cell phone talking to this (obviously ) a woman and it seemed like he was checking her. This nigga was CHECKING somebody!!!! Now I couldn't totally hear the convo, but minutes later he was on the phone with ANOTHER bitch....dayum playa.....

Now, I'm all about those endowed with age gettin' their freak on, but dayum! Pimpin (or being pimped)at 60 ain't sexy.....

Dig the outfit that was havin' a fit: This nigga had on a white and orange and gold "silky slim" shirt. Had the burnt orange pants AND (O.K. ya'll know Detroit is home of the Gata' that is, not the team) this nigga had on the Crispy Burnt Orange GATA's baby!!! He just KNEW he was doing.the.damn.thang!!! OOOH WEE! Hot. ass. mess. (at least he was matching)

Here's a few thangs to avoid and reasons why yo natural black ass should NOT start pimpin at 60.

1.Yo hoe's is old. And pussy ain't like don't get "finer" after a certain age....And if you got young hoes, they probably keepin YO ass in check more than you keeping THEIR ASS in check.

2. Old hoes don't sell ass that well....they're tired buddy.

Old hoe 1: Girl my feets is hurtin' I'mma rub some Ben Gay on em an' see
if dat do 'em some good.

Old hoe 2: Now you know you be done tow up somethin' just trying to
bend down, leave yo damn feets alone! Besides, I can't have
you fucking up my shit wit'cho stankin ass smelly like
hot grease and menthol

Old hoe 1: Bitch, fuck you! I swear I'mma knock them wooden ass teeth
out'cho head!

Old hoe 2: Bitch please, I'll knock slap yo damn titties so hard they'll
slap the flo and hit'chu in the back of yo head. You don't know
who you fuckin wit.(out of breath).....

Old hoe 1: Awww...fuck it bitch, I'm gone.....fucking wit'chu done made me
miss taking my geritol AND my Metamusil...

3. You shouldn't be gettin' paid by your hoes on the SAME day that your Social Security Check comes in.

4. 4 words. Viagra ain't for everybody. You willa(yeah I said it) fucked around and put'cho eye out or had some kind of ginormous heart attack fucking wit that stuff. *shaking head*

5. When that wig get's all twisted to the side in between tricks....that ain't sexy....

6.Gravity in general ain't on yo side, cause shit don't "srping back" like it used to, bruh.

7. YOU just need to sit'cho "60 seconds away from being a statistic in the obituaries" ass down someplace. Put the Grecian formula away and step away from the Pimp Cup Iceberg Slim...........

8. See.....fucking old hoes means problems..... old lady problems.... osteoporosis, they fightin with Arthur & Rhuemy (arthritis & rhuematoid arthritis), glaucoma, cataracts, dental issues (dick sucking could be a hazard....), dryness(eek....need I say more? Nothing worse than "chafing"), and the list goes on......

O.K., so I have illustrated the good, good reasons,why pimpin at 60 ain't good.... in fact it's bad, very bad.....

Can I get a pinky in the air on that?


Lawd....why do I have a crazy ass family? Why, why, why I ask..... I was talking to my niece (of which I have two, one OLDER than me and one younger than me). Well, I was talking to the younger one who is my brother's child and she's planning her wedding. Now, she's 23 and she's been going out with this guy, who is 3 yrs older than she is, since she was 14. Yes, 14. He's a great guy and everyone in the family loves him. So I was talking to her about her plans and how it's coming along (it's next year on June 10). She said that her Mom was putting 1/2 down on her dress today. I was like great! I then was joking around with her and said "So..... (hee hee) are ya gonna let yo' Auntie be an USHER?" LOL?

Explanation: My sister is gay and a very BUTCHY gay woman at that. She has her hair cut VERY low, has the "nigga" swagger, wears mens socks, shirts, drinks Milla Hi-li (miller high life) beer, etc. But she cool as hell. No problem wit dat. She has had a life part'na since I LITERALLY can remember and they have lived together since Barry White and Teddy were headlining shows! That's just my other sister as far as I'mc oncerned. My sister is also the MOTHER of my niece that is OLDER than me...go figure that one..... I have never and never will have a problem with her being gay. I'll go to gay clubs, go to this gay park that she frequents with her and her friends all in all are pretty cool....just like anybody else. But she is quite the butch-dom type of gay woman.

O.K., so with that said, I was aking my niece this in jest. She was like "yeah you know dem nigga's wanna be in my wedding, but they SHORT! They just gon' have to sit in the audience and Aunt Z is just gon have to have her Miller & chill! LOL" I was like yeah, I feel you cuz it's YOUR day and whyyyyyyyyyy did my sister FO' REAL think that she should be in my niece's wedding as a BRIDES-HO??? do you tell a BUTCHY gay woman that you would totally mess up the time and space continuum if you were to be in my bridesmaid party??? It would be like having Hulk Hogan as a bridesmaid!! Well....not exactly, but you get the visual.... My sister is like 55 years old, butchy, salt & peppered short hair and it seems like she would be as comfortable in a dress as a hooka in church being called out by the pastor!

So, my niece's feelings were aptly placed. ERRRRY-body in the family has "claimed a piece' of the spotlight as far as this wedding is concerned. Now, here's where we get to the title of this blog. The guest list is REDICULOUS. They're inviting more than 300 people!!! And the kicker is that 1/2 of the people they have invited are the grooms FAMILY. uh...naw..... weddings cost serious chedda and these two are young and though they have decent jobs, I can estimate how much they make (from knowing their job decriptions....hey, I'm in's what I do) and KNOW they ain't got it like that. Many people are saying that they should just "dave da $$$" and buy a house or fix the one up that they have. Well.....I say that if they want a beautiful wedding, far be it from me to discourage this. This is THEIR day and if my niece is anything like my brother and sister-in-law, her parents, who were married at 18 and 17 repsctively (and are still married).....them nigga's are in for the long haul.. And it appears that they are. Though we have a small family, my only issue is that I feel the list should be a lil shorter. I mean every extended cuzin just doesn't need to be invited dammit!

So, back to the weddin' appears that since we have a small family, our cuzins (some of whom are the EPITOME of gheeeeeetto wanna come). O.K., but these are the same ones that neva call or my theory is (in my best Oprah/Sophia from the Color Purple voice) "hell naw!!"

Mu'fucka's KILL me expectin just cuz we hapoen to share s teensy bit of blood, that this entitles you to all kinds o' shit.

I told my niece, fuck it....just run to Bemuda or St. Lucia or Anguilla and jump the damn broom.

Thursday, July 28, 2005

Getting to know me.....

I'm sure evvveryone has seent his little thingy below. It's where you answer all these questions then send it to friends for them to replace your answers with their own and send it back and out to others. Soooo..... since many of ya'll don't know me, I figured I'd post my answers here today!

1. What is your occupation? Shyt talker, disco critic, mommy....oh, oh, THAAAT other profession---the one that PAYS me. *heehee* That would be HR Manager

2. What is your favorite movie of all time? Pulp Fiction (the path of the righteous is beset on all sides by the wicked and the tyranny of evil men.......and you will know my name is the LAWD when I lay my vengeance upon THEE!!!!), Kill Bill 1&2, Diary of Mad Black Woman

3. What are you listening to right now? my boss' IRRRRRITATING azz voice in the background....

4. What was the last thing you ate? A "grandma's homestyle " cookie

5. Do you wish on stars? mostly

6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Orange

7. What is the weather like right now? 1/2 overcast, 1/2 sunny

8. Last person you spoke to on the phone? Melvin

9. Do you like the person who sent this to you? yes, I do....Mel is one of my longtime buds from MSU :-)

10. How old were you on your last birthday? uh......yeah.......

11. Favorite drink? Hummer

12. Favorite sport to watch? come on ya'll....i don't do sports....but if I HAAAAVE to pick one I'd say either gymnastics, swimming or tennis.

13. Have you ever dyed your hair? yessir!!

14. Do you wear contacts or glasses? Glasses, though I'm in denial that I now need them to drive, so I fake my way and squint at the Sec. of State when I have to get a new license so that horrible "must use corr. lenses" ain't on my joint!

15. Pets? not yet..... I want a small dog or a cat

16. Favorite month?August (my birthday dang it!)

17. Favorite food? Salmon and Steak

18. What was the last movie you watched? Fantastic Four

19. Favorite day of the year? (I am sooo, sooo sorry, but I am STRAIGHT bitin' off Mel's answer) Any day I am not at work!!

20. What do you do to vent anger? (Once again....straight BITIN' --->) You wouldn't like me when I'm angry...

21. What was your favorite toy as a child? My Tigger or my Raggedy Ann or my Barbie Penthouse (yeah I know that's more than one!) LOL

22. Fall or Spring? Fall

23. Hugs or kisses? Kisses

24. Cherry or Blueberry? Cherry

25. Do you want your friends to email you back? It would be nice, but I knoooow some won't

26. Who is most likely to respond? Cher

27. Who is least likely to respond? DEFINITELY, my husband....DAT nigro acts like his fingers get locked when it comes to this kinda stuff.......but I'm SUUUURE Jennifer or Keith won't either......

28. Living arrangements? Crib-nibit (that was Ebonics for House) *heehee*

29. When was the last time you cried? The other day. I popped my Zilla a lil too hard on his thigh and I felt bad cuz I didn't mean to.

30. What is on the floor of your closet? Shoes , shoe boxes (shut up Julian)

31. Who is the friend you have had the longest? Traci Crump

32. What did you do last night? played with the Zilla, fiixed dinner with the husband, ate dinner and fell the h*ll out.

34. What inspires you? Dylan

35.What are you afraid of? Death and heights.

36. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers? It ain't easy....bein' CHEEZZZZY!!!

37. Favorite car? O.K., I simply cannot name one. I love cars too much. BMW 740il, Viper, Infinity M45, Range Rover , Mercedes CL600, Acura RL........I could go onnnn and onnnnn

38. Favorite dog breed? Kid friendly, small to med. in size , and smart

39. Number of keys on your key ring? too many...some of which I must really think what they go to.(I need to do a "key purge" huh?

40. How many years at your current job? Almost 4 more than it should be (and it won't be 4 years until November)

41. Favorite day of the week? Friday

42. How many states have you lived in? Duece

43. How many cities have you lived? Quatro

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

The "I FUCKING HATE my job Chronicles"

The I hate my job chronicles…..

Yes, folks, this is a bitch-fest at it’s finest. Before I start this foray into my mind’s eye and give vivid details about why I hate my job, I will start with this post.

I’d like to call this “you know you can’t fucking stand your godamn job and are proud of it” post. With that said let it be known that I am at that point in my life where I only care about .012 percent if someone were to see this post that I work with (my boss in particular). And seeing as though I am about 194% positive she’ll never read this…who really cares anyway??!

O.K., you know, I have always acted like the good little negro worker who never started shit, who never said how they really felt no matter HOW bad shit was or how much I hated my boss. I would just go on my merry little way and find another job to go to. I believe this comes from my mother’s teachings. My mother is my hero not for the reason of being my mother but for teaching me the right’s from the wrongs and the good from the bad. I, however, believe that she should’ve been a lot more militant in certain situations.

For example, when I was like 6, I was terrified of this girl who said that she was gonna beat me up. I mean, terrified, like about to piss in my draws, ‘bout to pass out if my mother DARED to make me go to school scared. So, of course my Mom figured the whole thing out because as a 6 yr old, I had no “faking” skills. So, once the truth came out, I was promptly taken to the school and my Mom proceeded to tell my 1st grade teacher what the deal was. I was mortified. I remember thinking “DAMN, now I’mma get beat for SURE now!” The teacher listened and understood, but don’t you know that after my mother left and sometime during that day, she called me & this little girl to her desk and paddled (with a ruler) BOTH of our hands for being at each other???? I was mad as hell. But I dared not tell my mother. Hell, I’d just seen what happens when I tell her some shit…..bad things maan, baad things. LOL

You see, my mother was DEFINITELY of the old school of you respect EVERY one of your elders (which is contrary to many of my friends parents who said “you respect them until they DIS-respect you…then fuck it, it’s on”). She made sure I called grown ups by their last names ONLY. The only exception was her boyfriend Jesse. I called him Jesse. But other than that, it was Mrs. Washington, not Ms. Kelly or Ms. Jennifer. My mother was EXTREEEEEEEEMELY overprotective of me as well as I was her only child (hell, I’m surprised I didn’t lash out by doing drugs, wrecking the car, etc…….nah, no I’m not… my mother had me SCARED shitless….I was terrified from just a dayum LOOK that seemed to say “I will strangle every fucking breath out of your body if you ______”… so I didn’t test limits too much).

Sounds pretty boring, huh? Nah…..I did do things that other kids did, like going to amusement parks, kissing boys under the steps, and going to the movies and making out with boys, and lying (almost to an obscene level) to my mother.

Anyway, back to the lecture at hand. What lecture? How much I fucking HATE my job and my boss. I think that I am using this as therapy…. So come…..take notes and let me sit on the couch and tell you allllll about it…….(through the wavy-foggy dreamy mist we are taken back to 4 years ago….)

Since the 2nd WEEK here I have hated my job. Why the 2nd week? It was then that I realized that my boss was an asshole at BEST. She had me doing this project that was way too inane and childish for someone who she hired to be a manager, Me. And so basic that the admin could have done it, but the purpose was supposed to be to help me learn people’s names and who they report up the chain to. So she takes this phone list which is like 40 pages long (with about 8-9 people per page on it because it has work addresses, phone, cell,etc. on it) which is organized by division. Now, the divisions highest person sometimes does and sometimes does not report directly up to the person on the list that you would think they do. O.K.. so I start on this dumbass project and soon find that due to the set up of the information, the task is proving to be pretty confusing. Needless to say, I did not know who reported to whom and her direction on how to figure it out was , uh….shall we say….clear as mud? So I went to her not once, not twice, but 4 times (to make sure I had gotten it correct) and on the 4th time, she says to me in an exasperated tone with that fake ass Suzie Cream Cheese smile, while trying to remain “nice” , “O.K., how bout this…would you like to play a little game?”

STOP. Hold it.


I was floored, mashed , done fer. You see, even by TWO WEEKS in, I’d seen her utter fake brown-nosing kiss ASS ways, and knew I was in trouble. Kinda like when you realize that as you are putting your foot down, that there is a GIGANTIC pile of dog shit under your foot, but you CANNOT avoid it…it’s simply too late…..that’s what my moment of clarity was like when it came to what I’d just gotten into. Now, I had just LEFT an obnoxious, HORRIBLE job and when I came her thought I would make a new start (cuz the bitch fooled me in the interview and though I could see the fakeness I think I was so ready to get out of the other situation that I would’ve jumped into the next job just as Morpheus jumped out that damn window into Neo’s arms…..The only difference? Neo caught Morpheus and he was saved…… my ass jumped and fell much like Neo did when he tried to jump building to building for the 1st time. While not dead, that fall didn’t feel good for me either.

Which brings me to today….I am still here. Why? Because the benefits are HELLUVA and in actuality my work load is VERY reasonable, I mean....VERY REASONABLE. I like EVERYONE in this office except my boss and this other muthafucka I work with. You see, there are 4 people in my department. Me, my boss-the Bubble, Odie or O.D. (named such because my boss is a director turned V.P. and she ALWAYS treats him as if he were the “Other Director”, not MY EQUAL. He is my equal ya’ll….SAME grade level, just performs a different function and he’s been here longer), and my girl L. Me and my girl hate the two of them baaaad and it’s so obvious on most occasions. I mean, when we’re FORCED to go out for some gay-ass department lunch (the 4 of us that is), they talk to each other about their dumb-ass work shit and we talk about …..well….nothing. Because we DAMN sure don’t want them to see inside our black world and know any of our personal bizness. And it doesn’t help that they’re white and in their 50’s and we’re both black in our 30’s…..L is the admin. asst for our group and honestly, my boss and Odie treat me like I’m a damn admin. most of the time. They talk to each other, I hear shit 2nd hand, they make decisions (I don’t make shit, but plans to cuss them out upon my exodus) and they are dry ass, uptight, “we’re ½ way scared of Detroit and the people there” types of people while claming not to be.

A moment in black history:
Get this…WHYYYY did my white-ass boss detail by no prompting from me that she “used to date this black man…..and she really liked him until he started sleeping with one of her co-workers….” . Hmmmm… and all this while she was working at the Civil Rights Department. Don’t make me vomit bitch. You are such a dickwad (isn’t that a gay ass term?) that it isn’t even funny.

Moment over.

But like I said, the quagmire that I find myself in is whether to leave such a gravy-train like cushy position or deal with a bitch and a dude I HATE every-fucking day. My husband says to leave. Honestly, I probably should because I do recognize that I complain almost EVERY day about her in some form or fashion (even on the weekends) because of the sheer loathing I feel towards this woman.

I am typically a very caring, loving person, but due to this woman’s insidious ill-natured, ill meaning actions, I have become more cynical with her and at work and probably in general. One of these days…I’m gonna blow… I can feel it.

Coming up.....

- The Lie: Busted and Shamed
- Petryness: It should be a crime
- Other’s people’s experiences and assorted drama
- Road Rage

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

Remember Schoolhouse Rock???

schoolhouse rock! Posted by Picasa

O.K. this was unequivocally the "shit" when I was young. I learned all kinds of very helpful shit.....

Got home from camping last spring.
Saw people, places and things.
We barely had arrived,
Friends asked us to describe
The people, places and every last thing.
So we unpacked our adjectives.

But here's my thing ya'll....why is it that so many black children can't pick out a subject or a noun in a sentence, much less put together a grammatically correct sentence?? Now, before I get on my high ole horse, I knooooooooooooow that I have let some of the more "refined" English skills I possess go by the wayside.....but the fact is I STILL know them! I use as many "ain'ts" and double negatives as many of my learned and urban brethren that I went to college with, but I reinterate.... I DO KNOW how to put together a sentence so that anyone anywhere (who speaks English) can understand me!

It reeeeeally grates on my damn nerves like no body's bizness to hear a child speaking incorrectly. Now some may argue that the whole black english vernacular thing IS our language and that Ebonics is rooted in our culture, yada yada yah.... the fact is that in THIS HERE white ass AMERICA...that shit ain't (how ya like that word for hypocrisy sake).....I repeat, that shit AIN'T gon get you a job in corporate America, nor will it even allow most of "us" to take you seriously in your own community if you decide not to venture into the "white debbil"'s world, all because you sound like you don't know what'chu talkin' 'bout!

Interjections (Hey!) show excitement (Yow!) or emotion (Ouch!).
They're generally set apart from a sentence by an exclamation point,
Or by a comma when the feeling's not as strong.

So, why don't kids learn the same kinds of grammatical lessons these days that we did? (or rather, that some of us did??) It seems like the cool thing is to be as gremmatically INCORRECT as possible, but maybe that's the way it's always been. I know one thing, my child will have grammar lessons starting REALLY early and you can be guaranteed that he will go to a school where everyone (or at least most) speak as most of white america does, for I would rather him be teased and have his black friends say he sounds like he's "trying to be white", than to have my son be ill-equipped for the "real" world! Because what comes out of your mouth is MORE important than what's on your resume, how you dress and how ethnic you look. Because all of those qualities can be in place and if you sound like you don't know a verb from a're done fer.

(Verb! That's what's happenin')
I can take a noun and bend it,
Give me a noun -
(Bat, ball, rake, and plow)
Make it a verb and really send it!
(Show me how)
Oh, I don't know my own poweeeeer. (Verb!)

Now i know that Schoolhouse Rock doesn't come on t.v. on Saturday's with the frequency that it used to, but maybe if it did, we could goad kids into believing that it really is "cool" to be smart and to sound intelligent when you speak (O.K. I know I'm reaching with the "cool" comment..heehee). But it is truly my opinion that our black youth need all the encouragement and advantages that we can give them. Let's start by teaching the some of the spoken fundamentals......After all.....isn't that what our parents did for us???

Conjunction Junction, what's your function?
Hooking up words and phrases and clauses.
Conjunction Junction, how's that function?
I got three favorite cars
That get most of my job done.
Conjunction Junction, what's their function?
I got "and", "but", and "or",
They'll get you pretty far.

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

My reason for living

you know...everyone asks themselves (or a higher being)at some time or another "what's my reason for living?" Well, before I was a mother,before I was a wife, before I was a co-worker before I was a best friend and before I was the grown-up daughter of my Mom, I often asked that question. In my years of growing up (hell, who am I fooling I ain't grown yet) I have learned that the old saying "it's not about the destination, it's about the journey" is soooo true.

As I look at my son, I find my purpose, I find the strength to deal with a boss I hate, I find the strength to perservere and I find my reason. He is my reason. Hey, life is what you make it and I am convinced that there is no greater purpose in life than to love and teach your children (at least not in my world). I have never been one of those "my chile is my lyfe" kinda person. Hell, before kids, I was the one my close male friends said was gonna be a playa for life (due to the way I could dismiss a nigga with the ease of just that.....a nigga). So,upon my having a child (not my geting married), everyone and I mean EVERYONE has commented on how much of a "mama" I am. At first I was like "whoa muthafucka's I'm still that divalicious girl I've always been who loves Disco, going to Club Shelter in NYC, hanging with my boys, hanging with my girls.....etc. etc."

But now, I take that statement as a compliment because I realize that the reason they say that is not because I am wearing Naturalizer's and a gingham pinafore with an apple pie in my hand, but because I am totally loving being a mother.

As I look at my son, his newfound independence via walking, amazes me. It WAS just yesterday that I held him for the first time, just yesterday that I first felt him kick, and just yesterday that he was born.Now I see how most parents feel and why their heart melts at the mere THOUGHT of something happening to their kids. I also understand why parents get to buckin' with other parents over their "chi'ren".

He looks to me with such innocence and such wonder and such simple things mystify and delight him. It is clear that the old saying that "mommy/daddy is the name for God in the world of a child" is very true. I am his world, and it is up to me and my husband to teach him right from wrong, good from bad. And believe you me, as amazed as he is of the little things, I am also amazed by him.

As I watch him carry his blanky around or grab his bottle and feed himself or waddle over to me and say "momma?" or even when I watch him take off his little velcroed shoe, I know what my purpose is. It is not to work for a dolla (though,hey, Erry'body gotta eat, so i am faaaar from discountiung this purpose too LOL). It is not to keep up with the Jones', it is not to get those phat-ass Via Spiga shoes(well.....maybe the shoes, hee hee). My reason is to raise my son to be a good person, to respect life and the world around him, it is to teach hom to love, how to feel empathy and sympathy for others, how to cry and how to laugh, how to be serious and how to play, how to respect his elders and how to take care of himself and be self sufficient because "the world will not meet you half must go to it",to teach him how to eat when he goes to a nice restaurant, how to forgive and how to pray. I am his reason and he is mine. We complete each other.

Sunday, July 17, 2005

looks pretty devlish doesn't he??? Well.....he is!! My little Dyl-zilla !! Posted by Picasa

let them eat cake! Posted by Picasa

Well, this was the outcome of Dylan's 1st birthday party....cake EVERYWHERE! On himself, on Mommy.....But I guess that's to be expected huh? The day was complete success though it was hot than a sumamabitch on that day. I planned an outdoor event and hadn't expected to be sitting next to the devil AND his children on that day. It was 93 (with a heat index of 102)degrees with 100% humidity and NOOOOOOOOOOO , I repeat NOOOOOOOOOOOOO wind in site!! I was BAKING!! I was sweaty, felt like a soggy piece of playdough and had just gotten my hair done the night before, so ya KNOW a sista was on slight irritation mode. I hadn't even planned on wearing the ensem that you see above, but because guests started arriving waaaaaaaaaaaay before I THOUGHT they would (I was counting on the ole "CP" time) and negroes had the NERVE to be ON TIME!! Which left me, my mother,husband and mother-in-law SCRAMBLING like a muthafucka trying to get shit right! And need I remind ya'll that it felt like my body temperature was on 690 bake the ENTIRE day???? I'm surprised I even had a curl in the picture above!!!

But all in all, we ate, drank and opened gifts. Great time with family & friends. The only really bad part about the wholllle day was my friends BAD AS FUCK kids. Lemme repeat BAD FUCKING ASS KIDS!!!!!DAYUM, I'm really sorry that I had to call it out like this, but the truth is, this has got TO BE my area to vent, because she IS a dear friend and if I told her how I felt like I am about to write the details of what happened, she'd probably NEVER speak to me real. She is definitely one of them folks that "can't handle the truth".

So, what happened you ask? Oh my goodness...where to begin. *CENSORED*Some people just don't get it......Nuff said.