Friday, March 26, 2010

Conversations With Ice.



Today has been a looooong day. I’ve been up since 4ish this AM- sleep to me, is like candy to a kid. It is wanted, needed, enjoyed, etc... When I don’t get enough of it-or if I wake up and I feel like its still nighttime…but it’s not because it’s 4ish in the AM…then I get grumpy. I get quick to cut and slow to stop the bleeding.
On days like these, I venture in my mind to a place where I am chillin’ with my friend/mentor Ice (T).

The setting: Ice’s mirrored walled yacht. We are drinking mojoito’s and playing Scrabble.


Ice T: T, that is the third time you tried to add ‘ass’ to my ‘hat’ that I put down. That is not a Websters' word…

Me: I know. I know. It’s a great term though…

Ice T: You trynna tell me something? We got beef?

Me: Never. I am just…I dunno…

Ice T: Either you droppin’ clot or it’s about a dude…

Me: I’m deeper than that Ice-

Ice T: Oh I know, Sweet T, but when your Scrabble game is lackluster it’s one of those things.

Me: You know me so well…it may be a combo of the two or neither. Recently, I’ve been more open-nicer perhaps and have had some conversations with dudes…

Ice T: And you’re not impressed and don’t know what all the fuss is about-

Me: I know what the fuss is about. I like dudes-

Ice T: It’s just that a lot of them majored in Straight Bitchery 101.

Me: Exactly.

Ice T: T, anything worth having, you have to GRIND for. You should know this. You live this, that’s why you’re not easily impressed and why a dude will have to GRIND hard to get you to go buck wild in a mirrored room.

Me: If my soul could speak, it would say what you just said.

Ice T: Don’t you go getting all poetic on me-have me pull out some incense n’ shit…

Me: Never that- wait, I have a word.

Ice T: Ah, ‘tophat’…is that one word?

Me: Let’s hope because that is for you. You’re wearing a top hat with a tux in that special place in my heart-

Ice T:…that’s it. No more mojito’s for you!


The End.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

The Place Where I Work: I Want One


Poor, poor Blair has/had a stalker- or as I like to call him Mr. Crazy In Love…but mostly I call him Kells because he looks like R.Kelly. Kells is our flower delivery man- we get deliveries every Monday.
Blair says she was too friendly and should’ve taken the seminar B and I gave on how to be nice...enough. The kinda nice where you’re pleasant, but will still cut a bitch.
Kells saw the purity n' good cheer in Blair’s baby blues and was smitten! He gave her 12 long stem roses on Valentines Day along with his number.
Blair never called him. She thanked him, was flattered (more creeped out though) and threw away the card with his number on it.
Since then, Kells has called our boss several times looking for Blair-he wants to bring her more flowers. This sounds all romantic, but remember Kells is crazy, so this means he wants to mutilate her slowly- I don’t think Kells is a skin stealer. I just think he cuts shit…or chicks.
He may also enjoy a surprise skeeting-just make mess on Blair’s good work clothes.

After his 3rd or 4th call, our boss alerted building security and B n’ I went into full Law and Order: SVU mode!
She was Stabler and I was Benson. B is Stabler because you never know. One moment she is a fountain of peace and the next she tearing out throats with her bare hands!! I am Benson because I am cool under pressure, plus I let being a good cop outweigh my romantic life....hmmm.
So ‘Stabler’ and I started calling around making sure someone was with Blair-keeping her protected. Blair, not trusting our amazing cop instincts/skills, said that if she disappeared or anything, that she liked us…or thinks we’re great or something-basically she was saying 'goodbye'.
All that protection-getting, yelling at various walls/people, worrying and punching the air, made ‘Stabler’ and I hungry so we went to GoodBurger to enjoy remixed pop songs and good meat. Now, we’ve always said that skin stealers/killers/molesters and the like all enjoy GoodBurger. There’s them…and then there’s us. Our ‘them vs. us’ theory was proven when Kells strolled into GoodBurger! Fries were dropped; turkey burger meat fell on my lap as I quickly called Blair to let her know Kells was in the area. ‘Stabler’ was tense and ready for some skull crackin’. Thankfully Kells stayed in his lane and we finished our lunch...keeping our ‘cop eyes’ on him the whole time.
Because we are such amazing ‘cops’ no harm was done to Blair and Kells has been rerouted-awww. (Yay! For potential new stalker, though)
Since operation ‘Keep Blair Alive and Un-Skeeted On’ is over, I am on a new mission. Mission: Procure Myself A Romantic Stalker!!
Who doesn’t like some flowers with a lil insanity? A lil stuffed bear covered with dried semen??
That is part of being a professional woman! Office stalkers make the day go by faster-because you’re walking faster because you are being followed (around the office or at lunch time)…and you don’t have to do much work because you’re on the phone with building security most of the day. All good things.
I am taking cues from Blair and being friendlier. Perky even. Well, I can’t even BEGIN being perky. Have never been perky. I think it involves smiling a lot and not saying ‘fuck’ every 10 minutes. Sadly, I am not known for smiling and I LOVE saying the word ‘fuck’ in various ways and for various reasons.
So, I am going to use a cheerier demeanor, bright colors, almost slutty work gear and chatting up any dude within a 4 mile radius. I think that by doing these things, I’ll have a stalker by Good Friday!

The above pic is just an example of what I’m looking for. You see, I am NOT shallow…I just want to be stalked at work!

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

The Place Where I Work: Don’t.Eff.With.Me.Or.My.Time.

Any sane, mature, less self involved person knows that when you are doing something fucked up-like taking 3 hour lunches- and it affects all those you work with, then expect to be shut.down by me.
CloseUp- the wannabe actress is the culprit. She is one of the lamest, ignorant, selfish people I have encountered and has the maturity (and body) of a 12 year old boy. She is consistently taking advantage of people’s patience and good nature-until yesterday when I had enough. I think it was a mix of it being Monday, lack of sleep and just being fed up with people who don’t give ANYONE ELSE, but themselves, a passing thought.
Hey listen, I have selfish tendencies. I know this, but you know what else I know-I know that I can be selfish, and really try not to be (at times).
…so I sent an email, we talked it out it-it was like talking to a wall though because she doesn’t understand why what she’s doing is fucked up…her only concern was who was talking about her. She’s lucky I didn’t karate chop her throat and beat her senseless with a bag of dirty dicks!!
I am not a violent person though.
Later, she goes crying to B feeling like she’s been ganged up on. Still not understanding why ANYONE would be pissed at her.
I have no sympathy and no time for her. I’ve said my piece and am done.
May she get cast in a play in Antarctica…and may she choke on many frostbitten dicks.

Monday, March 22, 2010

My Weekend of Tough Love

Though I am a tender kitten with a sweet n’ quiet soul and big heart- I am also straight forward. If you seek advice from me, don’t expect to hear what you don't wanna hear-it doesn’t come from a cruel place, it comes from love and actually caring about you…unless I could give a fuck about you, and then I’ll happily tell you to choke on a big bag of sweaty dicks.
So when I wasn’t discussing life’s triumphs and pitfalls with peeps, I was doing other things…

Friday I was grumpy n’ tired, tired n’ grumpy so instead of sharing ‘the feeling’ with the world, I took it home and meditated through watching ‘What Not To Wear’ and going to bed a reasonable hour. I had big dreams of getting up early on Saturday and taking on the day!...
That didn’t happen. Instead, I slept till 2PM (I *heart* sleep) and ventured to Soho to price some dresses (2 weddings this summer). After elbowing/verbally abusing various peeps around Soho-because really, it is always so overcrowded with asshats and tourists- I met up with Marci in Harlem (World) for some Caribbean eats. We had amazing food and drinks at Mobay-Uptown. Our waiter was Solomon AKA the Light Skinned/Light Eyed Dream who offered to service us in many ways- woah. I was also being called Sgt. Pepper a lot because I finally procured the band jacket I have wanted for a few months! Yay for me.
We then chilled at Marci’s crib watching Bones and catching some of Mike Rowe’s dirty work. He truly is dirty, dirty because when he was told that if he didn’t wear gloves to do something, his hands would become dried and cracked, he said that that would add a whole new level to his love life. AHHHHHH!
Once we were properly chilled and did our pre-game shot (not shots), we headed to All Good Saturdays at White Slab where we got all sweaty to some hot beats. I had a great time and much to Arden’s AkA A1’s surprise-no lesbians hit on me. Though I almost kicked this Asian dude with a perm in the nuts. He was annoyingly taking pics every 5 seconds. Then he explained to me- after I elbowed him in the back- that he works for some magazine and not to sue him. I politely asked him to leave my facial area…mostly because his breath smelled like ass, old tuna and dried semen-or just what I imagine a combo of those things would smell like.
Since I didn’t get home till about 6AM- due to me sometimes just not saying (a la Cartman) ‘screw you guys, I’m going home’- all my Sunday plans got cancelled. I managed to go grocery shopping which felt like I ran a race or something. Felt real accomplished...and there was risotto involved. Mmm.

Overall, a good weekend. Truths were told and nobody got hurt.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Some Things I Learned This (Hurricane) Weekend


Friday: It’s cool that I don’t eat fast food like McDonalds AT ALL…except when I’ve gone to Happy Hour and drank Tanqueray n’ tonic. Got myself a southern chicken sammich- I think I drooled when I asked the cashier what was on it and he said: butter and pickles…which sound GROSS, but were perfection! Now, I did think about getting the filet o’fish because of the commercials, but I know I'm not built for that kinda damage. The Mickey D’s worked like a charm and I had no after effects on Saturday. HOLLA.

Saturday: No matter WHAT, watch the weather report. I thought it was simply going to rain-I DID NOT know it was going to HURRICANE. That I would feel like the wind was going to carry me to a place where Xzibit makes over kittens and milkshakes are the equivalent of a dozen roses. Instead, I was in Fort Greene wondering WHY? I made up for it by having red velvet cake.

-Looking up, or just being aware that you’re walking by the place you really want to go into is essential. See Moo and I were in Fort Green looking to try this Ethiopian spot. Instead we walked into Brooklyn Noon-which looked like it was more Caribbean influenced. The place we wanted to go to was RIGHT NEXT DOOR. We didn’t realize this till we were done with cake and on our way to boutique hop (or be blown down Atlantic Avenue). Anywho, I’d like to send a rather LARGE bag o’dicks to Brooklyn Noon- crusty, gnarled dicks for all who work there. To the people who made no effort to accommodate Moo and I-they pretty much looked at us like we walked into nail salon expecting steak n’ eggs! Fuck.Them.

Sunday: I learned some key things in brunching hard- though we brunched in SoHo and NOT Brooklyn making it a semi. Selma taught me about ordering the savory brunch dish and then sharing either waffles, French toast, pancakes- basically anything sweet, with your peeps. That way you get all your bases covered. Throw in some spicy bloody mary’s and you’re brunchin’ semi-hard, yo!

-Mo AKA DJ Moma chatted about holdin’ hands with dudes to get more gigs- basically realizing that he has to make wearing pastel colors n’ skinny slacks worth IT. It being the chaffed sac. He seemed miffed that we were all supportive/not surprised that he would be seen holding hands with dudes. Oh well, I guess with everyone and their moms thinking they’re DJ’s with their ‘Serrano’s’, there’s a lot of competition out there!

-Losing an hour of anything is not cool.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Real Emo


I don’t know if it’s all the rain. The lack of vitamin D…because the sun hasn’t shown its ‘face’ in a minute (a long while in non-slang speak), and also because I don’t know the polite way to ask a dude to put.it.in. *wink wink*- in any case, I am feeling REAL emo.
Perhaps its my new fringe-I just wanna listen to some Adele/Daniel Meriwether/ NEVER EVER will listen to Duffy, but will blast some ‘2 Become 1’ by Spice Girls. Walk all slow n’ meaningful with my hands shoved real deep in my raincoat pockets. I’ll look at the cloudy sky, and then stare into rain puddles. My thoughts will be deep and profound…and will go through my mind in haiku’s. If I do look people in the eyes it will be followed by a somber smile…and a yearning for connection.
Coldplay will come on just as I enter the train station, right before someone hits me accidently with their umbrella and I’ll find meaning in that. The meaning being that the world is against me. My feelings burn like my eyes when I have eye makeup on too long. I’ll sit on the train all wistful and forgotten- just another chick riding the train. My soul will feel swallowed up though… like a train as it goes into a tunnel…

…and that is MAYBE what she said.

Friday, March 12, 2010

The Place Where I Work: Reason Why I Win #147

Besides the prospect of Happy Hour and maintaining my awesome ‘do’ in this rainy weather- I managed to say probably one of the best things I’ve ever said.
Yes, I just wrote that sentence.
Recently, I got my hair cut. It’s basically a not so severe Cleopatra style- I have bangs again!! The bangs have basically made me Superman- no I cannot leap a building in a single bound- but like Clark Kent, no one can tell I’m me with my bangs.
Really?!
I have THE SAME FACE, but peeps here are like: wow I didn’t know it was you!!!
After hearing that about 15,000 times, I’ve just decided to mumble snarky comments or smile and think: choke on a bag of rotten dicks.
Then Pornstache says something and I reply with this gem:
*ahem* Bangs are like a moustache on your forehead.
He wishes me a great weekend and then keeps it moving. I sit and wonder how to market my brand of genius.

Getting back to the new hair- a few people here are not idiots and see that I just cut my hair…and I did NOT get plastic surgery fulfilling my dreams of looking like a jungle cat (a la Jocelyn Wilderstein (sp)- made that last name up, but its something like that).
This guy I LOVINGLY call Cartman- I mean he looks like him (Eric Cartman from South Park) in the BEST way possible, and he is one of the nicest dudes here…who trades, that is. Anywho, Cartman told me he digs the hair and knows that I’ll get a lot of numbers this weekend.
I told him he hasn’t spoken to me long enough to know that I don’t gets the digits…..
……just straight cock.in.my.hands.
Ha! Nah, it’s nice that Cartman has hope for me-actually he may be on to something. A few of these dudes’ here-Bro-Dick Poetry dudes- are all up in my George Foreman (grill)! It was like I was a ghost last week and now with the ‘do’ I am the cute…Black…Latina…Mixed…Chick...that exists.
Cartman knows!

Thursday, March 11, 2010

The Place Where I Work: The Allure

There’s a certain allure to things you don’t understand…or things that don’t ‘like you like that’.
The King of Zamunda AKA Disco Stick- because he is short and petite…well of a slim build- definitely feels this type of allure-pull towards me.
Sure, he’s nice and tries to be funny, but there’s no way I am letting him crawl up inside of me-and I mean that literally because he could…because he is that small.
As always, when you don’t want IT, it wants YOU. He’s not annoying…like say a Black Tom Cruise. Disco Stick has a ‘trader’s humor’-which means he really has no humor at all. He tries though, and I am sure in his circles he’s a treat, but anyone who’s never seen The Last Dragon is not someone I can share a drink at Happy Hour with…much less the splendor of my loins.
So, how does Quinger get invited? Well, B wants to have ‘dirty tree sex’ (she came up with that) with him…well she did…does…I dunno. Also, Quinger is fun to make fun of, and as we have learned, is used to being the butt of most (all) jokes. Peeps who realize they are creepy and lame, but are good sports…are OKAY by me!
Disco Stick takes himself too seriously-which I find is my main problem with short men. I get it. You’re a lil guy and you get shit for it. GET OVER IT! The Napoleon Complex is outdated and wack.
I guess you could say ‘the tall girl not liking a lil guy’ is played too-and I would say: touché` and OH WELL.

Blair asked if Disco Stick wore platform sneakers would I reconsider. I said, no. Height and then personality. Most dudes who trade lack a certain je ne sais quois…OH I know what it is-a SOUL!
For now we shall chat, say hi and bye…and have him YEARN to be nestled all up in my bi’ness.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Oscar Weekend SIDEBAR AKA WTF Happened to Judd Nelson?!



There was a point during a John Hughes film-and DEFINITELY during New Jack City where I wanted to BONE Judd Nelson. He even went on to do some sitcom with Kathy Griffin- and I still thought back to New Jack City and wanted to do naughty things with Judd Nelson.
Then I forgot about him.
Then he showed up at the John Hughes tribute at the Oscars this year wearing Shaquille O’Neill’s/ Montell Jordan’s suit from the premiere of Shazam or left over from the This Is How We Do It video shoot.
There were chains hanging-as if he were carrying a pocket watch?! Seriously, I thought it was the lead singer from Color Me Bad, but remembered he wasn’t in any John Hughes films…because I am NOT all looks-am wikked smart too.

I don’t know if I care enough to be saddened by his non-aging gracefully, but I certainly am appalled.

My Oscar Weekend by Me


First, I’d like to shout out Mother Nature for really providing an amazing weekend weather-wise. Also, shout out to genetics/moms for making my hips truth tellers-for they cannot lie.
After settling in a cocoon last weekend, decided to emerge and fill this one with fun activities, fun folks, fun…food and just a lot of FUN!

Started on Friday- after work- with drinks at the ACE Hotel. That place was jumping with tools and bitchinista’s. Great drinks though and I met a friendly Belgium dude during the long wait at the bar. Because I am NOT as cool as I seem- I figured dude being from Belgium, we would talk Jean Claude Van Damme. He found this amusing and it helped to make the long wait for libations bearable.
I must add that there are times when I must remind people-i.e. myself, that I am not just fun loving wearing jeans and some sort of flat shoe chick. The chick that seems oblivious to her womanly attributes. Sometimes I must remember that a lot people are not ready for this jelly, but I am willing to prepare them. So, I wore this great dress that was both work appropriate and appropriately showed what I was working with.
My friends and I could only handle one cocktail at ACE because it was just too crowded, so a few of us headed to Bar Breton for a delicious dinner. I had the burger because I heard it was a ‘must try’ there- definitely a great burger. I didn’t really get to fully appreciate it because ‘the dress’ wasn’t forgiving and I like being able to breathe.
After some deli hijinks we headed to the Gershwin Hotel where the good Rebbi AKA The Darkness was spinning an Armory Week party. Talk about excellent people watching!!
Great character development…like the guy who after saying something equally off-putting to m’girl Naomi, says to me: you should dance with me, it burns calories.
I say: get away from me, old man.
He left me alone after that. Just because I have on a dress n’ heels, doesn’t mean I won’t kick an old man in the sac.
There was also this dude that tried playing the sax to the beats that The Darkness spun. I say ‘tried’ because he was more into ‘trying to impregnate chicks on the dance floor’. His moves were phenomenal, and his grace as he moved from woman to woman was enviable. He definitely provided endless entertainment throughout the evening. Most importantly I was able to shake my arse, but watch myself thanks to The Darkness playing songs like Janet Jackson’s ‘Go Deep’ and Rick Astely’s ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’-both songs I’ve been remixing in my head all week. The piece` de resistance was ‘I Can’t Go For That (No Can Do)' by Hall & Oates AKA one of my all time favorite groups!!!!
Saturday I was set to knock another Oscar nominated movie off the list- Thursday I watched Up in the Air. I enjoyed the movie, but didn’t think Clooney deserved the Oscar nod. I mean, it was classic Clooney- this doesn’t take away from the fact thatif he called me at 2AM and was like ‘I’m coming over and you better be on you’re A-game’, that I wouldn’t do some stretching and prepare myself for some weathered…yet ‘sexiest man alive’ balls. Like most of the Oscar nominated movies, Up in the Air was a ‘punch you in the gut with movie reality’ kind of film- it also fell into the ‘similar movie title so imma be confused’ category.
For instance, my friends La, T and I went to see A Single Man…which I kept calling A Simple Man and got confused with A Serious Man. Whew. The movie was visually STUNNING! Colin Firth was a dream-and I can say that because this may be the most GAY MOVIE EVER! Julianne Moore’s British accent was exquisite. Gotta love Tom Ford for making a world where everyone is attractive-yet still provocative. Again, didn’t think it was Oscar-worthy for Firth…but what do I know?
After the movie we had some Thai food and hit up Target First Night at the Brooklyn Museum. As always it was a scene. Ran into Victoria and Naomi- which is always a treat. We shook our well proportioned asses and sang along n’ out loud as if we were LaBelle and Mary J. Blige.
Will not be attending First Night for another few months- most likely summer. Only so much bougie ART-TISTE’s I can take.

Sunday was about Korean fried chicken, lo mein, pizza, cupcakes, red velvet cake and The Oscars AKA Kat & Wilson’s Oscar Partayyyyyy.
It was pretty stellar, filled with amazing food, commentary…just plain hilarity.
We started with the red carpet pre-show. Definitely wasn’t wowed by any dresses- though Rachel McAdams, Meryl Streep, Kristen Stewart and Queen Latifah all looked lovely. I liked the midnight blues of OOOOOOOOprah’s, Gabby Sidibe and MC’s (Mariah Carey) dresses. Sarah Jessica Parker definitely disappointed me with her look. Maggie Gyllenhaal underwhelmed me-as usual…though her brother AKA Jakie-Boo, was so handsome! There was discussion about how much Ryan Seacrest wanted to tear Jake’s tux off of his trembling body and reenact scenes from BrokeBack Mountain. I think Zoe Saldana is gorgeous (though she could stand to eat a few burgers)…her dress, not so much. Her shoes were FIERCE though. Her co-star in Avatar AKA the hot Aussie dude…was HOT. Don’t know his name and think he has the thinnest lips ever, but he can get it. Who was stylist that definitely got razor sliced by Jenny from Block for putting her in a similar dress as the chick from Mean Girls who put her fist in her mouth!!! Oh man…George Clooney and his gf of the moment looked straight homely. They looked snarly and haggard-was not impressed. May have said that Miley Cyrus and her moms (who has angel wings tattooed on her back) spent most of the pre-show giving side-by-side bj’s to a lineup of dudes ( including Morgan Freeman with his weird fake arm/hand). Miley’s mom would stop her sometimes when she felt she was getting too teeth-y with it, and she would show her the proper way to fondle balls without chipping a mani.
Hey listen, Mr. Jay (we watched E! first) agreed with all my style highlights and lowlights-so I know what I’m talking about.
We turned to ABC’s red carpet coverage which was pretty horrific. Who thought it was a good idea to dig Kathy Ireland out of her crypt covered in scrunchies and smelling of Prell shampoo?? Why can’t Sherry Shepard find good undergarments?? These questions were never answered, but alas the show began.
I knew anything involving Alec Baldwin would be more awkward than anything- if awkward had an award show, this years Oscars would be it!!!
From every time Precious was mentioned the camera panning to anyone resembling a Black person-may have landed on Demi Moore once, but realized she was just tanned and had lip injections to Alec Baldwin sweating profusely and then disappearing halfway through the show to the Ciara-styled dancing to movie scores to lady parts tingling when I saw Eli Roth in a tux to me saying that Tyler Perry has ‘cock lips’ to Sandra Bullock WINNING A FRIGGIN’ OSCAR! Really?!!
Oh well, at least Avatar won nothing of importance! Yay for the small things.

Overall pretty fantastic weekend…and now to make it to the end of this week-which ends with a happy hour! Woot, woot.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

The Place Where I Work: Tik Dicketry (pronounced tEEk dick-ETRY)


So great he gets his OWN blog about his OWN poetry.
Tik-Dicketry.

Tiki Barber , a former running back with the NY Giants, rolled into my office today. Well I saw that he was coming and was upset that I wouldn’t be able to see him. He is one of my favorites! He and his twin bro. I just love them. Love their story and love their names.

I got over being upset about not seeing Tiks (pronounced tEEEks)…because I forgot about it-until…
B instant messages me that he is up at our main reception and they are chatting n’ flirting. B had no idea who he was. Tiks mentions that our expansive main reception area is…HUGE, and B says it’s her very own FOOTBALL FIELD! He laughs heartily and they bond some more.
ONLY SHE could do that. I think I wrote that I hated her 15 times-until…
B tells me he is on his way to my floor. I mentally prepare.
do not act-a-fool, do not flash him, do not try to tackle him…
He appears. So stylish. Short, but stylishly petite…with a nice build. The type that looks you in the eyes and smiles a wicked smile…and then keeps it moving.
DAMN YOU, B!!!!!

Anywho, Tiks confident stride, style and smirk is its own form of poetry. Tik Dicketry. So fast, you don’t even know its happening…and when you find out, you’re happy about it. Tik Dicketry is wordless. Lacks any strain or effort-its cool and its calm. It's patient and understanding.
You also can’t be around the Tik Dicketry without checkin’ yourself- how is the hair? the gear? the shoes? your breath-even if you don’t speak to him!

Tik Dicketry 4 eva!

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

New Vocab, Yo!


Last night as this dude let his eyes linger on my supple bod, I came up with a new term.
Dick Poetry.
You see, guys can look at you like they wanna fuck you long n’ hard. Dirty, even. Some wanna kiss you tenderly as they slide you into suit made of Playtex, and afterwards place a ball-gag in your mouth. Others want to smack it up, flip it, rub it down-OHHHHHHHH NOOOOOO!
Guys who wanna give you the dick poetry are different though. When done right, a dude can be a Talented Seducer. 9 times out of 10 though, he is just a dick poet.
A dick poet is a dude who wants to make love to you, but first he wants to woo you…because he cares.
A dick poet will, depending on his upbringing and standing in life, woo you within an inch of his life.

If he’s your Bohemian Dick Poet, he’ll incorporate an organic cotton throw. Jack Johnson will be the background music. You’ll drink honey wine as he reads you poems he’s written on a scroll.

The Urban Dick Poet will have Robin Thicke or J.Holiday as background music. He’ll recite sonnets on a comforter (synthetic filled, down-filled if he's really serious with the woo) covered in silk rose petals as you tenderly sip Alize`.

The Bro-Dick Poet (he wears Dockers and says Bro a lot); he pulls out the boxed wine and Dave Matthews Band CDs. You’re in the back of his SUV and he is reciting Limmerdicks (B came up with that one- instead of Limericks) because he is serious with the woo, but has to maintain his Bro-like sense of humor.

I knew the dude last night was some sort of dick poet because of the look in his eyes. He was squinting them slightly, moistening his lips and tried to maintain eye contact (with me) after gingerly grazing my bod visually-remember the dick poet is respectful!
I sighed and turned to B: That dude wants to slay me with his dick poetry, yo.
She agreed and a new term was christened!

Go ahead, tell your friends!!


OHHH and I HAD to put a pic of Walter Mercado up because he is my favorite-and somehow came up in conversation. He doesn't relate to dick poetry....but he IS an astrologer, perhaps he'll see a dick poet in your 9th house in Jupiter with a rising Capricorn or something.

Monday, March 1, 2010

The Place Where I Work: Fighting Spirit

Like Jigga says: I.Will.Not.Lose…unless I’ve lost and when that happens I’ve usually gained in something else or learned something…
When it comes to getting sick though- I usually win. One of my many glorious strengths is a KICK ASS immune system…and me never needing too much of an excuse to just stay in bed. This weekend I felt weird. That sick kinda weird and also anemic.
So I only got up to shower and eat…and to find more DVD’s to hunker down with-thus never leaving my house. It was awesome…and could’ve been avoided if I took my vitamins last week, ate something before drinking as intensely as I did…and perhaps stayed away from a new coworker we all lovingly call LoBro/LoBlow.

You see Friday, LoBro planned a Happy Hour for a few of us. We were all excited. When the day comes though, LoBro feels weird and she winds up leaving just when the fun was getting started-BUT not after accidently spilling her beer on me. After breathing exercises and B awkwardly trying to kick the elephant in the room-that was me wet with beer- I was able to find inner peace…also looking at LoBro's face and seeing she was not well. Awww.
It coulda been the weird place we were at, it was called Snafu. Yes, we chose it because of the name and the nifty reviews. Plus it had a jukebox which kinda beats a DJ. Snafu was weird though. WEIRD. It was a clever mix of after work crowd, sketchy child predators/skin stealers and whores. Snafu had Big Buck Hunter game though- so we stuck around! Also, Quinger showed up with his Gang of Thieves.
Quinger and his Gaggle of Friends who are Cooler than He Is, bought us shots, dranks and cab rides. When dudes make more money than you AND like to show it off, I say: Why not. Do you, boo!
I know you’re probably wondering: Quinger, B and Me???!!!
Like I said, Quinger’s friends were cooler than he and so we had a blast with them…and Quinger spent most of the night cockblocking B and one of his ‘bro’s’. It was pretty sweet. All in all we all had a blast: me, B and Blair. We were all drunk in our own ways, but not that annoying, falling down, tit showing drunk. We all hid our inebriation well only letting it come out in spurts-better that than vomiting...in spurts.

Monday kinda sucks because B and I (still) feel weird. Quinger is a no-show. LoBro is out sick and I’ve had a run in my stockings since leaving my house for the train. Luckily I brought a clear topcoat with me…and my Starbucks Crew hooked me up with a free breakfast and coffee. Awww. The love.
On the flip, I have some friends that think I am depressed. I have no idea how to even begin to express how unhappily happy I am. *sigh*
Am like Trig-too complex, yo.