Thursday, February 25, 2010

A Sign, yo!


This was unfortunate, but perhaps a peek into what the future may hold in regards to my relationship with Ice T.
So, I am on the train this morning-pretty pleased because I was going to be on time for work even with this wintry mix…speaking of the weather, if I hear one more pansy-ass complain about this snow.... Have you ever spent a winter in Buffalo????
That is what one calls having a SNOW STORM/YOU CANNOT LEAVE YOUR HOME TO GO TO TARGET EVEN/SNOW DAYS ARE REAL BECAUSE YOU CAN'T DO SHIT BECAUSE THE SNOW WILL KILL YOU!!!!!
Whew…
There I am, on time, listening to beats and about to drift off into train sleep-the sleep where you’re sleeping, but alert enough to not miss your stop. Very different from drunken train sleep.
So, I am about to drift off when this guy and his lil son get on the train. Lil son= a toddler. Really cute kid.
I glanced at the dude and got a whiff of crazy which was confirmed a few moments later when he began pacing the train and loudly reprimanding his son.
OF COURSE, I think, just keep perpetuating the loud angry Black man thing. Whenever anyone Black does something horrendous in public I get embarrassed. We don’t need that noise, yo.
The guy is talking real sheist-y to this kid and a few people remarked on how he needed to chill. He then proceeded to curse them out.
I begin thinking about how I can take him down and then raise his son…a few moments later I realize I am in NO position to care for a child.
I begin looking around frantically because the kid is crying and the man is cursing out everyone including the kid, AND I am not sure if me and my umbrella can take him. Luckily my eyes fall upon two women that look like mothers. I saw the ‘lioness’ in their eyes and I knew things would be okay.
The train stalls at Atlantic Avenue. I begin to realize that something is up AND that I am going to be late to work. Then 4 cops come on the train. They remove the man and his son…and I see the 2 Lioness’s pointing him out and giving statements.
Definitely didn’t mind being late for this…it showed that people give a fuck! Also, mamas –the really good ones- look out for everyone! They will cut-a-bitch who threatens children!
Reminded me of the time where my cell phone fell on the train tracks and I sighed and went to look at it. Suddenly there was an arm across my tummy pulling me back. I looked into the eyes of a Lioness and she was like: it’s not worth it. You are NOT getting that phone.I told I had NO INTENTION of getting it-there are RATS down there!

Anywho, upon further pondering, I realized this was all like a Law & Order: SVU episode- Ice T is a star on that show-which means I am getting closer to our friendship that will transcend all space and time!

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Ice & Me.


Sometimes, when the days are long and bad, I like to go to a place (mentally) where Ice T is my best friend/father figure.

In this world, Ice and I met when I was 10. He came to my school to talk to kids about drugs and for some reason I stood out to him because I said he looked like a pimp and pimpin’ ho’s is like selling drugs.
He liked that I was young n’ sassy. So he took me under his wing-not the hooker wing- the ‘imma always look out for this girl’ wing. Growing up, Ice looked out for me- really can you imagine if this were true??!! Imagine how efficient n’ brutal my hate would be.

Where was I?
So yeah. On a day like today where I pretty much hate.everyone, I‘d call Ice and the convo would go something like this…

Ice T: Hey Sweet T…

Me: Hey, Ice…

Ice T: You sound down...

Me: Yeah, mofo’s here are shitty-

Ice T: What have I told you about shitty people?

Me: …they do shitty things and I gotta be like Clorox and disinfect their asses.

Ice T: Right. That and flush those bitches! Don’t let them suckas steal your shine cuz without that shine you’ll have no glow…

Me:…and without that glow I won’t get that dough because I’ll be ugly.

Ice T: Right. Ugly bitches never get top dollar. Even in the corporate world-

Me: Sometimes-

Ice T: Okay, maybe once in a while, but I bet no one is deep dickin’ them…

Me: Pretty bitches, like myself, have a hard time with that too…

Ice T: I’ve told you what your problem is; you go for bitch ass dudes. A man will straighten your ass out.

Me: I know, Ice. One day…

Ice T: And I am not talkin’ about no Jake Gyllenhaal and Justin Timberlake either-my balls have more cock than them…

Me: Hmmm…those are just fantasy guys-

Ice T: Too much fantasy with you-imagination ain’t gonna deep dick you.

Me: You’re right, Ice. What about imagination and a toy?

Ice T: (chuckles, which is a prize in itself) You crazy, T. Listen, come by my crib. We’ll play skee ball and drink daquiries.

Me: Sounds like a plan.

The End.

Man! Even typing this made me feel better. If Ice and I really knew each other, this is EXACTLY how it would be!!! *sigh*
That’s it. 2010 will be about procuring Ice T as a friend/life coach/mentor.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

It’s Not Like You Care, but Deep Down You Kinda Do (pt 1)


Tiger Woods:
I refuse to join ranks with the salty dicks that like to discuss The Wood (Tiger’s nickname that I’ve given him) and his penchant for truck-stop whores. I do not care! Really, I don’t. Being that I am NOT sexually attracted to The Wood, he is not on my radar- or cooch-dar if you will. It’s great what he’s done in the world of golf…and sure The Blacks won him in Chappelle’s Racial Draft, but that dude could give a fuck about a Negro! So, I’m pullin’ a Kan-ye and saying he doesn’t care about Black people and shouldn’t be commended for what he’s done for Blacks and the golf game. Eff that.
Another thing, peeps say that he needed to apologize because of this squeaky clean image he portrayed. Key word: portrayed.
If you haven’t learn by now that people are FUCKED. UP.
Do not get out of bed. Ever again!

Tila Tequila:
My friend B turned to me today and said: I think Tila Tequila died!
My first reaction (the truest one) was to smile and say GOOD! Then after a few seconds I felt horrible, but not that horrible.
She’s alive.

John Mayer:I may have liked (though I’d never admit it in public) some of his songs. I think I even own like 2 of his CD’s. That hasn’t changed how much I WOULDN’T BONE THAT DUDE with someone else’s vaginal walls.
Needless to say I am not surprised by the amount of RIDUNKULOUS bullshit that he allows to escape his lips. I mean look at that dude-he is FUGLY. The only reason he’s getting laid now is because he writes cool songs and plays a guitar. He knows it. I know it. My cat knows it. He was still FUGLY back in the day before all his success, and now that he has tasted a Grammy or 2…along with JSimps combustible cooch-he thinks he’s hot shit. He’s not. John Mayer is a bitch. A bitch with a platform-i.e. a Twitter account.
May his racist cock fall off in a vat of gravy and he is forced to eat it while listening to all his CD’s…and then this is uploaded onto YouTube where we can all watch, point and laugh.

Whitney Houston:
Don’t want to kill a dream, but Whitney is still on them rocks. Eff what you heard!

The Kardashian’s:
I don’t give a FUCK about a Kardashian.

Jake Gyllenhaal:
When I heard he broke up with Reese Witherspoon, this filled me with the kind of glee and hope that further shows how far I dance from reality.
One day, Jake.

Monday, February 22, 2010

The Place Where I Work: Denied

It has been decided that a few of us are going for drinks on Friday. I’ve been given the task of inviting a few peeps that will add more color to the already hilarious evening or tapestry (if you will) that will take place.
It’s not looking good though because the first person I mention it to (outside of the 4 of us that are going regardless) is Drake. He’s been wanting to go out for drinks so I figured he should be involved.

Me: So we’re going for drinks on Friday…

Drake: Cool. Is CloseUp going? I can’t have her there all over me if I bring my girl…(brief background: CloseUp wants Drake, but claims he wants her. Drake wants to put it in me. Drake has a girlfriend)

Me: …and now you’re not invited either.

Drake: What? Why?

Me: First off, CloseUp is (was) NEVER invited. Second, this is COWORKERS going out for a few drinks, NOT let’s all watch Drake and his girlfriend make out all night. Do that on your own time...

Drake: Hater. So, where are you guys going?

Me: You’re not going…so don’t worry about it.

Drake: Seriously?

Me: As a bikini at the Puerto Rican Day parade.

He stares at me a bit in total disbelief then pouts and walks away. Poor dude. He has a lot to learn about life. About how we’re coworkers and not friends. Also about how any invite from me outside of anything work related should be cherished and not treated as just something to do.
He’s young. He’ll learn.

I am also supposed to invite The King of Zamunda and Quinger. We’ll see how that goes. One person who WON’T be invited along with: CloseUp, Debbie Downer and a handful of skin stealers and tools, is Black Tom Cruise. That guy just annoys the holy hell out of me! Friday he made sure to ride the elevator with me on our way out. I put on my headphones which Drake thinks are dorky and I find them to be OBVIOUS because they are large headphones. Basically saying: hey, don’t talk to me.
Black Tom Cruise decides to talk to me. He taps my arm is all like: are those from 1982. (talking about my headphones)
I give him the FAKEST LAUGH IMAGINABLE and think: isn’t your permed ponytail from 1975… specifically from a Blackxpotation flick called: Run Negro, Run!
I didn’t say that though. I just fake laughed and said goodnight, making my way to Target to pick up various things... like scrap book supplies. I’m creating a personal Style Book. Do.Not.Hate-it’s a movement!

Getting back to my large headphones, I began to wonder if they are closing me off from possible subway love! I mean you hear stories (movies/TV) about people who meet on the train and fall in love. After playing around with that idea for the length of one Blur song (on the iTouch), I decided: nah, fuck it!
I come into work and this girl I’ll call Cro-Magnon Cutie- because her hairline is almost touching her eyebrows, for that sexy hooded effect, but she is still cute. Hmm.
So, Cro-Magnon Cutie proceeds to tell us a story about this guy she kept seeing on the train. They got on and then got off at the same stops. She thought he had a gf, he and the gf broke-up and after one conversation on the train…they are now dating.
HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN?
Blair, B and I have been asking ourselves this all day. In REAL LIFE, when/if you get to the convo part with the dude, you then find out he steals skin/touches children/lights kittens on fire/etc. OR he and the girlfriend are still together BUT he ever so kindly wants to bone you…just once.
NEVER does it just work out like that!
If it does then CMC has just given me a vast amount of hope and I shall keep my headphones on, but no longer ice grill everyone.
Babysteps, yo.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

The Place Where I Work: To Be LOVED!


The goings on of my office ‘romances’ astound me. Actually, everything astounds me in my current jet lagged/exhausted state.
It seems I was missed by my work boo’s. Awww. No candlelight vigils, but they definitely seemed excited to see me…which is usually not the case with most people. Not that I am not amazing or fantastic, it’s just that I don’t put a stir in the air…just in your pants. OHHHH!
So, literally I walk into the office and there is Drake. Suddenly Drake is behind me. He quickly mentions that if it weren’t so early in the day he would grab me up for a hug!
Slow down boo I don’t know what time zone I’m in.
After he calms down a bit he tells me about this outfit he was about to buy, but didn’t because of whatever reason and now he has this party to go to and he NEEDS that outfit.
After not really listening because I was sleeping with my eyes open, I tell him to stop being a chick and to leave me alone.
He continues on about how the clothes would match his silver sneakers (oy) perfectly.
I look at him, meaningfully in his gorgeous (really gorgeous) sunlit brown eyes (they are almost golden colored) and say: Eff your sneakers. Eff your outfit and eff your couch!
Drakes stares at me a bit, chuckles and leaves me alone. He later tells me that he missed seeing my face. I told him to calm down.
Then B’s boo…who I’ve stolen-we affectionately call him: Quinger (queer + ginger), Sheeps Queef and Waspy Wang.
Anywho, he missed me too. Things are intense with him because last week the company let go of a shitload of people. See, when mergers happen…shit happens. Like not having 2 to 4 people for the same job. No matter though, Quinger never let’s go of his James Spader- like creepiness. He does this thing where he says my name slowly while he stares and slowly walks towards or away from me. B and I have concluded that he is NOT creepy in a skin stealing way, more in that he is just like a creepy box of cupcakes-like if the cupcakes were in the shape of body parts…but were cupcakes.
…and now thanks to a company wide promotion of a chat feature that NO ONE uses in an internal program…well now everyone is using it! Including this guy I’ll call Really Tall Urkel who started chatting with Blair out of the blue. She was nice to him till he said something condescending and lame like a lot of the male species around here tends to do so she has NO TIME for him. Awww.
The chat program been pretty amazing and brought me closer to Quinger, who I am getting to know for B so that they can have Waspy Tree Sex (it’s a movement).
Then there is The King of Zamunda. He is called this because he has the SAME name as one of the characters in Coming To America-I will not tell you which and it is NOT that obvious. The King of Zamunda isn’t your typical financial type douchebag, he seems a tad nicer. Boring and lame all the same, but nice. He is also mad for me, but he is short…and I don’t do the work thing.
It’s tough when bitches KEEP falling in love with me! TOUGH!

With the newness of this chat feature and the planning of ANOTHER office happy hour…me thinks Spring is going to be quite interesting around here.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Rollin' In My Denim Leggin's


Soon I will write about my findings in San Francisco-I decided to spend this long weekend exploring a city I’ve wanted to, but was always in LA for something. I’m so glad I finally did it because that is one lovely city with so many good EATS!
Anywho, I can’t go into everything now because I am tired and sitting down hurts. Travelling is both fun and hectic. Especially hectic when you’re getting anally probed around every corner. Or when you miss a connecting flight in Boston and then must bus it back into NYC. Then the next day you have to pick up your luggage from the airport-because your luggage was able to fly, not you.
Then you go into work-yet you’re soooooo chill because it’s the Cali way (all day every day)!

Another thing that can suck about travelling now, are TSA agents. Usually they are bitter and enjoy fisting. Then I met 2 who I wanted to hubby.down.
The first gentle fellow was at LaGuardia. He was so amazingly hot that I stumbled into him and let him know it was okay to search my ‘person’.
This was a classy way of saying: frisk me, boo.
He chuckled and said I looked like I was clean…and added he got off at 7PM. I told him I was sorry, but I would be rollin’ with my West Coast homies by then. Awww.
The second hot gentle fellow was at San Francisco International. I chose his line to get my ID checked simply because he was hot-the line was long too. When I finally hand him my ID he is distracted by this old couple who didn’t know where to check in their bags. Once he gets them settled, he takes a look at my ID and smirks. He lays them chocolate brown eyes on me and smiles: hello there.
I smile and say: hey.
He looks at my ID again, checks me out and then slowly hands it back to me, smiling. If I could’ve checked him in (with my luggage), it would’ve been the SF souvenir that kept on giving.:)

My trip was more than me picking up hotties with bodies, it was about the chill. Oh did I chill! M’girl Marino was an amazing hostess!! We started movements (like the Nani Meditation Movement-basically we feel dudes should take one hour a day and really meditate on the ‘nan. It will help with the procuring and wifing down of the ‘nani-more on that later). We also drove around with her friend Paul blasting West Coast gangsta rap-for some reason Khia’s ‘My Neck, My Back’ became the weekend theme. That song can NEVER get old.
A BIG happening was me wearing dark.denim.leggings as part of my (amazingly cute) travel assembles. Anyone who knows me knows this is NOT how I roll, but I saw them at Tarjay (Target) and was like-HAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!
I rocked the shit out of them things. This also shows my intense duality (friggin’ Gemini nature) where I can hate something, yet rock it like I own it…which I do. My feelings won’t change about wearing leggings with cropped shirts or anything Ed Hardy.
I do have Capri sweat pants that say LOVE on the ass. The O is a bejeweled heart. They are pretty fierce.

Needless to say, I am back bitches…no heads will roll for now though.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

The Place Where I Work: Wet Like Snow


Another erotic poem about my work. (Blogged a bit ago about my unassuming coworker Darlin’ Nikki who writes erotic poetry. She is an inspiration.)

Titled this one: Wet Like Snow

It got me way past moist
The Snow
Work said I had no choice
And so I go
People all around and I don’t care
Wind tosses me around and messes my hair
But I keep up
And snow stays up, not ready to let go
Work can’t stand up to Snow though
It likes to fist n’ kiss and Snow leaves you in wet bliss
I take them both on like a champ
My forehead a lil damp
No match for my vigor
And I plan on riding Snow out like its name is trigger

Monday, February 8, 2010

Shake You Down.


I woke up too early to blog coherently. Even though I got enough hours of sleep, I am NOT a morning person. Waking up at 5AM is like getting punched in the gut/someone eating the last piece of bacon/all you wanna do is play a word game on your iTouch and some hot dude wants to chat you up…then you later sit n’ ponder why you’re single.
In any case, it sucks the grimiest of balls…waking up early. When I typed n 'grimiest balls' for an image search-yeah being tired means I am READY FOR ANYTHING- the above pic of DJ Khaaaaaaled came up. I think its fitting.


Have no idea what I was going to blog about, but feel I should write something. Anything. Had strange dreams this weekend which I will use in a short story-you know that Stephanie Meyer…you know the stay at home Mormon mom who wouldn’t know how to write well if it stood above her and proceeded with a ‘golden shower’…that whole Twilight thing came to her in a dream. Sure I didn’t dream about a vamp talking to a girl, but I think I’ve got something nonetheless.

Okay. I can’t think of anything else to write that will not be semi-grammatical rambling. So here is a Gregory Abbot video because this song entered my head during the twilight of my day. Its funny, I always thought this dude was Tubbs (Miami Vice) and many years later I realized it wasn’t. Thrilling. I know.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uc8wmLul3uw

Friday, February 5, 2010

Stone Heart Held by a Stuffed Bear in a Balloon

I was going to write about how I am so glad its Friday. Then add that I didn’t have to choke a bitch, but was very close to kickin’ a chick in the clitoris. Perhaps I would mention my office love follies- Black Tom Cruise has taken to calling me ‘sweetie’. I doubt he’ll do it again since I didn’t respond to him at first. He got a clue and addressed me by name.
Not to get all ‘Queen Latifah’- I mean he didn’t call me a BITCH-but ‘sweetie’ is just as inappropriate and rude. That dude doesn’t know me. I am also NEVER sweet to him! Fuck that guy!

Where was I?
So, yeah. I am not going to write about all that. Instead, I am going to share a story as to why I hate Valentines Day. I didn’t care about the day before, but now I spit venom upon the day.
You see, VDay is about love. Not just the bonin’ kind, all kinds. Love of family, friends, dogs…cupcakes. I never made a big deal out about the day-even if I had a special someone. I was just happy with some candy hearts…some chocolate or treating it as any other day-because you treat me special EVERY day…like I do most people (hahahhahahah-whew, I said that with a straight face).
Don’t love me up all on one day, and the rest of the year go creepin’ on me at the Shore. That’s not right, and it’s not okay.
It’s also not what my story is about.

On a Valentines Day many moons ago I made plans for a fancy dinner with friends. Not one of those garlic-we-hate-men-dinners, just a nice dinner because we loved each other and felt like living it up.
Through all the conversation and the menu surveying, I notice a young woman come into the restaurant. She was dressed real lovely and looked nervous. I nudge a friend and say- VDay first date. Romantic. I then go back to perusing the apps and drink menu. It had to be about 20 minutes later before I thought about the chick on her VDay date. Wanted to see who her date was and if I could see sparks-I love when you see IT. When two people just work. It’s not just about physical attraction; it’s about the connection…the mutual like. Awww.
In any case, when I looked over the chick was sitting alone. Sipping her water nervously and looking out the window. A friend that was sitting next to me had taken notice of her and says: he’s not coming.
I still had hope though. I’m like; he wouldn’t do that on VALENTINES DAY. Even I know that’s FUCKED UP.
…but sure enough. We had appetizer’s, rounds of drinks, dinner, and were about to order dessert when we saw the young woman leave. Her cheeks red, eyes wet from crying. One of my friends said we should just go get her and ask her to join, I said no. If that were me. I would NEED to get out of there-would appreciate the thought- but most peeps like to live in their humiliation alone.
My heart broke for that girl, and ever since I’ve hated Valentines Day. It’s just another day. Only the stakes are higher and ones cruelty can be devastating.

Um…HAPPY FRIDAY Y’ALL!!!

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

The Place Where I Work: Don't Make Me Do It...


I can admit when I am wrong…it just doesn’t happen often.
Initially, I thought House of Pain was feisty, but cool. Now, I don’t think she’s a HORRIBLE person, but her new name is Debbie Downer. Her constant complaining and negative slant ON EVERYTHING-except lame shit like the book The Christmas Sweater by Glenn Beck- is making me wanna choke.a.bitch.
As much as I objectively hate on things, I am not bitter nor do I get off on complaining all the fucking time. Venting is cool, but sitting around being sour about shit is not what’s up. Talking about why things suck so much doesn’t really help the situation…ESPECIALLY when you’re around a person like me who is ready to come up with solution. I believe Vanilla Ice described me best: If you got a problem, yo I’ll solve it

What REALLY enrages me about Debbie Downer is that she is LEAVING. She is pursuing her dream of becoming a nurse. Moving out of NYC with her deadbeat hubby and starting anew. She should be excited, filled with joy, and filled with enough of her hubby's semen to keep her giddy-but from the looks of things he goes out drinking every night to get away from her!
That seems mean, BUT IT’S TRUE.
Again, I don’t think she is a bad person. She is helpful, looks out and is good at what she does…when she does it…sometimes. She’ll NEVER admit when she’s done something wrong though. NEVER.
…okay maybe this stems from sitting with a person day in and day out- I am sure I am no prize all the time- but I have NO ill feelings towards Blair. CloseUp-member her? - I keep a good distance from because I will choke her too. Don’t have to worry too much about her because she is in LOVE with B. CloseUp is supposedly straight, but is real Fatal Attraction-almost- with it. It’s hilarious how much it annoys and terrifies B-that’s a whole other blog though.
Anywho, I just reached a certain limit with DD and I am trying to find a happy place. A non-violent place where I don’t have to kick a bitch thrice times while screaming: shut the fuck up! I cannot comprehend why she complains all the time. She is pursuing her dreams-life should be gravy!!!
Hopefully after a good nights sleep I can go back to tuning her out. Hopefully it won’t be a choke-a-bitch THURSDAY!
Wish me luck.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

The Place Where I Work: Bountiful Treasure


When I typed: bountiful treasure, the above image came up. I think its fitting because not only are my loins like a gift basket-often luxurious, filling, assorted, hmm…I’ll definitely get snacky after getting plowed deeply and a gift basket would be GREAT to quell that hunger.
Why all this talk about my loins and gift baskets? Well, I thought I was the ONLY one around here led around by her loins, but I was wrong.
Drake is as well.
Now today my usual work sexy has been upped thanks to a curve hugging-work appropriate- skirt. Paired with a sweater and secretary top- you know them shirts that tie at the top- I am demure yet pin-up all at once.
In any case, every time I turn around Drake is somewhere behind me. If I am sitting, standing, in the pantry, coming from Starbucks-there he is! It’s like ‘Lil Drizzle’ (HA!) is leading his young n’ tenderness to my seasoned shamelessly unused/misused cooch. I am amazed by this and he keeps apologizing and tries to move away, but he can’t.
It’s like Don C.… keeps pulling dude back in.
Unlike the REAL Drake though-who’s half Black, half Jewish-work Drake is 100% Puerto Rican. This means if I even contemplate penetration…I’ll be pregnant.

Have to be extra careful, and must tone down all this sexy.

Monday, February 1, 2010

My Weekend/ Grammy Rundown by Me


This weekend totally flew by! One moment I was having dinner in the West Village with peeps-having an openly gay waiter flirt with me, which made my friend mention that no matter what men love me. I said this was true in most cases, but in cases that mean crotch impalement (soooo sexy I know)…not so much.
It went from amazing Friday night dinners to me waking up this morning thinking it was Sunday. After closing my eyes a few minutes more I sadly realized it wasn’t Sunday-it could’ve also been the persistence of my alarm.
Maybe I feel the weekend went by so fast because it was so amazing! Saturday a friend had a Jersey Shore marathon party and I swear I laughed so much I was exhausted- I hear laughing is like doing crunches so I will be rocking midriff shirts at Seaside Heights all summer!
Sunday was about utter relaxation and thinking about sending my tax info to my accountant. Thinking is a good step. By Friday I’ll actually send the stuff out. Hopefully. Sunday was also about the Grammy’s. Oh award shows. My rundown-as usual-will be half assed. I mean, when the cast of The Jersey Shore gets invited to the show…why should I give a fuck? Love those kids, but COME.ON!
…and so my rundown begins.

-Totally missed the opening because I was still contemplating even watching the show. Maybe it’s because I watched 2 hours of Celebrity Rehab. That ish will eff you up! Like, I’ve never had an inkling to do drugs, but that show really just drives the nail in the coffin. Also it has me easing up on my slightly alcoholic weekends. Just looking at Heidi Fliess’s face makes me wanna curl up in a corner and never open my eyes again.
Anywho, I missed the Gaga and Elton John performance. From what I hear I didn’t miss much-and that John was just the beginning of the Night of the Living Dead…or just musicians the Grammy’s peeps dug out from their crypts and paired them with a musician who’s alive and has a career still. Pretty amazing.
Missed a lot of Colbert’s opening shtick, but from what I saw he was pretty Colbert which =’s hilarious! Loved when he pulled out the iPon (instead of a pad it’s a tampon). Loved his whole asking his daughter if he’s cool and her response was always no. Awww. That’s comedy folks.

-If we are friends on Facebook then you got my on the spot commentary which was pretty profound-like when ‘Single Ladies’ won for song of the year or something, and all the writers were onstage, including The Dream and Katt Williams…and some other dude, and they said Beyonce couldn’t be onstage because she was preparing for her lackluster weave twirling performance-it was fitting that she wasn’t onstage as a writer because SHE.DOESN’T.WRITE.JACK!!! I know she CLAIMS to be a songwriter, but that chick couldn’t put together a sentence if she was given a stiletto heel to use as a hammer. Plus ANYONE who can twirl their head endlessly without getting dizzy must not have too much going on in the inside of the head-which works for her because she is very attractive.
Play the lotto I just something nice about Beyonce!!!!!

-I almost turned when I saw J-Ho. Loved her hair, but that dress! THAT DRESS! It was half wedding dress, half reception dress and altogether HIDEOUS! Then she went on to introduce Greenday: The Musical. What.the.fuck??????
Hmmm, I wonder if during Basket Case peeps dance around dressed as baskets??

-P!nk performed Cirque du Soliel style. Love her!! Her hair, her body is SICK, and the fact that she tried to wet everyone during her performance. Then Miley Cyrus introduced someone. I don’t care what anyone says, that chick is 28yrs old!!!
Thanks to m’girl Vanessa I now realize what was nagging me about Taylor Swift besides her inability to sing, she looks like a cat! Am calling her Whiskers from now on. I feel it goes with her ‘sweet as pie’ persona. I don’t really hate the girl; I just want to kick her swiftly in the throat. I kinda ‘roid raged out when Whiskers performed with Stevie Nicks. WOW. It was unfortunate. Whiskers then goes on to win album of the year? Kitty’s rule, I guess.

-I like how there was a sudden appearance of the Best Comedy Album category with Colbert being a nominee and then winning. The suspense killed me. Hopefully next year Patton Oswald will host or Kathy Griffin.
Am glad Kings of Leon won for that song that I get all guttural when I sing it randomly like when it’s quiet on an elevator…or when I am waiting in line for an ATM.
Have I mentioned how much I *heart* Robert Downey Jr.. He doesn’t have to do much either. All love. He introduced the Jaime Foxx performance which was it for me! It won for many reasons, mostly Doug E. Fresh and Slash. Any combo of those may make no sense, but when it’s done it pleases me to no end. Foxx’s performance was just entertaining. He combined his comedy with auto-tune and it worked brilliantly.

-Ke$ha and that Justin Beaver (whatevs) kid introduced something. WHY did they let that little boy stand so close to that pest ridden ho-bag??? She just looks used- and I do an AMAZING impersonation of her. It works better after one Mike’s Hard Lemonade. Cannot WAIT till Ke$ha is on Celebrity Rehab! Though I’m kinda sad that lil JB’s first sexual experience was with her, I mean at least she’s a trained professional, but no 13yr old should be asked to suck on ones cigarette burns during such a romantic experience. *sigh*

-I don’t know who Zac Brown or his band is, but they definitely sound like the kind of music the Klan listens to to get amped for the killin’/noosin’/pick-up truck draggin'.

-The Michael Jackson tribute/performance was pretty sweet-except for the part where I didn’t have my 3d glasses and then got a headache. J-Hud looked FANTASTIC and Carrie Underwood’s hair was the bomb! Can you believe that chick was on American Idol and is now doing musical tributes to MJ! America, FUCK YEAH!

-There was this whole vote a Bon Jovi song and they’ll perform it during the show. Great, all I know is I still wanna bone Bon Jovi! For real’s. Once I came out of my perverted reverie, the rap song nominee’s were being announced. ‘I’m On a Boat’ was nominated for a Grammy. Seriously?
Maxwell performs with an Anne Rice villain…OH wait that was the honorable Roberta Flack.
Maxwell defines-suited.up! Mmmmm…

-The show ends with a SHOWSTOPPING performance which was announced by Quentrell Tarrantinojohnson. WHAT.THE.FUCK was Quentin Tarrantino doing? Its one thing to LOVE Samuel L. Jackson, its another to try to BE Samuel L. Jackson. He should just do like me and get the IAmSamJackson app.
So, QT introduces Lil Wayne, Eminem and Drake. This is when I got angry with myself for watching the whole show and tried to find some type of time machine to get those hours of my life back where I would’ve turned to Family Guy or watched an Law & Order block. Perhaps I would’ve learned to knit or written a sonnet. Anything but sit through that.