Open letter to the Kardashians…..

Dear Kourtney, Kim and Khloe….

“What are you famous for again?”

Seriously, your Dad was OJ’s lawyer. Your mom married Bruce Jenner, the former Olympian. Those two I know. What about you guys?

Hmmm….rich, spoiled children seeking publicity. What can we do? Hmmmm, snooze inducing s.e.x tape (yeah I saw it and it was boring as hell..what?) Hook up with athletes? Get pregnant for shiftless other rich kids? Get married after knowing someone for four weeks just in time for our show’s premiere?*sigh*

Despite all of these shenanigans, I have done my best to ignore all of you. I pass the tabloids quickly whenever I see any of you on the cover. I pray that Reggie Bush will come to his senses. You know, the usual things you do with a pesky fly….shoo them away and hope they will eventually move on or get swatted down.

However, when I open a respectable magazine and have to see THIS first thing in the morning before I even drink my coffee:

Now you three have gone too damned far. WHAT THE FUDGE is this? The pregnant, unwed mother is posing in her nightie because….???? I can’t. I really can’t. This is a clear cut case of struggling for relevancy and DTM (doing too much).

If I find out any of you are watching this monstrosity, so help me, I will get in my car and do a drive by. If you watch it, you got some ‘splaining to do.

When will people learn….

That 90 degrees is simply too damned hot to have  a wig or a weave on your head. I know you might look cute but that ish is HOT. The sweat pouring down your face while you jog in the morning wearing a full on wig AND a baseball cap in hot azz weather is not cute at all. *blank stare*

That everything is not for everybody. Those latex shiny leggings are not for everybody. Unless your bootie and legs are on point……JUST SAY NO. (And past a certain age, you need to just not buy them…PERIOD)

That no one better not (yes, I am aware of the double negative) call my house with any foolishness tonight during the 100th episode of LOST.

That your kid is not “spirited”…..he’s BAD. He needs his azz whooped. You know how I know? I have two of them.

That just because I say my hours are 8am to 6pm doesn’t mean you can just show up unscheduled for a tour of the hotel at 5:45pm. Rude azz.

That saying all Asian people look the same at an office meeting with Hotel leadership is career suicide….*Blink*

That I take my Wolverine obsession seriously…..Tali 1 and I already have our tickets for Saturday afternoon…pictures to follow.

That it is never okay to have a loud azz argument with your man Raekwon on the train on your cellphone. (On a side note….you are dead azz wrong Raekwon…..you should have called her when you were supposed to so she could have gotten a ride home. Hmpmh.)

That I am a Maxwell stalker. I will not even entertain a discussion with anyone about him being 1) wack 2) crazy looking 3) a hot mess 4) gay, etc….. This is my blog and it’s not about you. LOL. I love his music….Period. Your hate is not swaying me over to share your opinion in the least. Do I come to your blog and tell you who to like? Did I ask…what is your opinion on Maxwell, please share it with me? What type of person would know that someone loves something and still feel the need to just delight in telling that person how much they hate it or think it sucks? Hmmm…..any guesses? Correct, a hater. You can all take your unsolicited Maxwell hate and miss me with that people.  (Other than that, I love you all

You don’t have to go home but….

I trust that everyone had a great Easter Holiday weekend. We attended church services and came home to a quiet dinner. We ended up with unexpected houseguests…..*insert sigh here* so I had to turn into hostess with the mostest at the last minute and whip up a big breakfast to feed the masses when they woke up. Turkey Bacon, Turkey Sausage, Omelettes and Biscuits saved the day. It also never hurts to have ground Starbucks coffee in your pantry. No, not for the guests….for me. I needed a cup. LOL

Today let’s talk about houseguests shall we?

The way I grew up, you didn’t just invite yourself over to someone’s house at the last minute unless you were family. Hell, family needs to give you some notice too.

Well, we seem to have a situation where certain family members feel it’s okay to just show up at our home without sufficient notice. Of course, they are family so we always say yes and open our door and guest room or couch….but when is enough enough?

For real, I am feeling a bit perturbed because said family members always seem to call us on a Saturday around 3pm and say they will be in Philly and need to spend the night. We say okay. Then they arrive on my doorstep at around 2am. *blink, blink*

This has been repeated behavior and on Saturday night…..1969 had enough. As a married woman, some arguments need to be started with love and respect. Especially when it’s about family and it’s your husband’s family. AHEM.

However, 2am is not that time. I cussed Mr. 1969 clean the hell out.

Of course, I gave him the option of putting his family member in check and he failed to do so.

The next morning….said family member got their azz handed to them courtesy of me. Then I calmly made breakfast for everyone, served the food and left the house to go run. LOL I am SO Claire Huxtable sometimes.

Seriously folks….college is over. Showing up at someone’s home uninvited, empty handed, etc….is not what’s hot in the hood. Especially when they have kids and it’s the weekend. Is it me?

2 AM in the Garden of Good and Evil (subtitle: This is why I drink coffee.)

Both Tali’s are battling colds right now. You know how men act when they’re sick right? Well…I am dealing with two of them.

Last night, I fed them soup, gave them baths and put them to bed before I settled in to watch Heroes. (On a side note, Hiro and Ando need to just be wiped out. They irk me. And how cool was Micah? Is Nikki really dead?)

Just when I started falling asleep, around 11pm, Tali 2 started crying. I went in his room and he had climbed into bed with his brother and was sitting up crying at the top of his lungs. I quickly snatched him up and brought him to my bed so he wouldn’t disturb big Tali. Mr. 1969, left to go sleep in the guest room.

Knowing Tali 2 and how cranky he can be….you can only imagine the drama.

“Mommy?”

“Yes”

“I need medicine.”

“Mommy?”

“Yes.”

“I’m too hot.”

“Mommy?”

“Yes”

“I’m too cold.”

He did this until he finally fell asleep around midnight.

At 2am, when I was finally sleeping. A foot smacked me dead in the face. I jumped up and he was laying diagonally with all of the blankets kicked off. I straightened him out, covered him up and attempted to go back to sleep.

“Mommy?”

“Yes.”

“I like popcorn.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“Danny made me sick cause he ate my jello.”

“Next time, don’t let anyone eat your jello okay?”

“Mommy?”

“Wolverine can beat Captain America.”

“Yes he can.”

“Cupcakes are really good.”

He rambled on and on about nonsense for the next hour and a half. *sigh* I blame the cold medicine.

When I left the house this morning because I have meetings today……all of my boys were sleeping like they were in comas. You know, cause they are so tired.

*sigh*

People in Hell want Ice Water…

I try not to judge people, I really do. However, in some cases, I am judgemental as HELL.

The body of Ca.yl.ee An.tho.ny was found with a heart sticker over her mouth. WHAT THE FUDGE? If her mother did this, OMG….there is no torture they could come up with, no way to die, nothing that could be good enough to punish her for what she has done to this child. And what? Afterwards, you stuck a heart sticker on your kids mouth as what? Decoration?

And Ru.sh Li.mb.au.gh actually said on his show “I HOPE OBAMA FAILS”. If you care about our nation, our people, our country….who would ever say they hope the President and his administration fails? How many levels of ignorant are you to even form those words?

As jacked up as Bush was, no one WANTED him to fail. We wanted all of us to be able to eat, afford our homes, have healthcare and schools. We always want our President to succeed despite our personal feelings about the individual.

And as for today when my “South Philly co-worker”  said the older Obama daughter seems very sweet but the younger one looks like she is a spoiled rotten brat and she doesn’t like her.

**PAUSE, GIVE EVIL SIDE EYE and say…

“Wow, have you actually met her? You sound like you know her personally.”

“Uh…no. I just don’t like her, she seems like a real brat.”

“Really? You have such a strong  judgement on a little kid that you don’t know and have never met? That seems very narrow minded. She strikes me as a cute little girl. Period.”

“Well, I can tell these things.”

“Oh you have a knack for judging people you don’t know and have never met. Interesting. Wait till you get to know me. I can’t wait to hear what you really think. *Smiles sweetly and walks away*

I hope some folks have reservations cause ice water is scarce down there.

The Hotel Chronicles

My new Hotel is near South Philadelphia. No more downtown, Center City. One of the interesting developments has been an abundance of erra….interesting co-workers.

How do I explain the working class European folks of Philly without sounding elitist? Hmmm. Think of the movie Rocky and most  of our employees would probably blend right in. Yes, I know the movie is like 20 years old but let me reiterate….most of the folks here would fit RIGHT in.  Gotta love South Philly.

So anyway, we have this one associate…she is the Assistant for the GM. She is the gatekeeper of our office and has been here forever, knows everything and is a great resource. However, you cross her and you’re done. LOL

So yesterday, we all went to lunch and everyone was excited about the Inauguration. What tidbits of wisdom did “South Philly’s Finest” have to share?

“Somebody needs to teach that new First Lady how to dress. She looks terrible in that shiny gold thing.”

“That President messed up the oath. He’s an embarrassment to the country.”

“Laura Bush was the best dressed and classiest woman there.”

“Obama’s speech was boring. He didn’t even have anything to say that was memorable. It was too long.”

The hateraid went on and on.

Pray for your girl because you know I will have to hit her with my Claire Huxtable nicetyness in the near future and gut check her azz. It’s only a matter of time.

Yo! Adrian…..

Lumps of Coal

A current popular topic in blogland is gift giving during the holidays. We’re not talking about what to buy for mommy and grandpop. No, we’re discussing those awkward situations.

Do I HAVE to buy a gift for someone that I’m only….uh…..bumping uglies with?

Both men and women are struggling with this topic. So much so that folks are arguing and debating it almost everywhere I go.

Now I know, you all consider me an old married lady but who better to get your dating advice from than a woman that has successfully kept a man through almost ten years of marriage and two children? Isn’t it better to get advice from someone in a successful relationship than to call your single friend with no man/woman and take their sage advice? ‘Nuff said.

Anywho, here’s my take on this topic.

If you are over 25 and dating someone for more than two months, yes, you should get them a gift. PERIOD. It’s about respect and courtesy. HOME TRAINING.

I don’t care if you have only seen each other under cover of darkness, after a 3am call on the 2nd Friday of every month. I don’t care if he is only one of five guys you are dating. I don’t care if you haven’t declared her your official girl. If for two or more months, you have been seeing each other pretty regularly, BUY A GIFT.

Now….do you buy them Tiffany engraved cufflinks? HELL NO.

Do you get her those Gucci shoes she asked for? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

You get them a small gift. A nice gesture.

You were together that one time and he mentioned he liked Tupac? Pick up that Tupac autobiography for him or make him a Tupac playlist or CD.

She said she can’t see you because her family is coming for the holidays and she is hosting dinner? A day before they arrive, stop by and drop off some nice flowers for her dinner table and then leave.

Funds are low? Show up with some mistletoe and a can of whipped cream and play decorate the elf. (Just kidding….okay, maybe not.) A small thoughtful gesture goes a long way.

Now none of this counts if the two of you have implicitly stated to each other that neither of you means anything more than body parts. If you have had that conversation then NO, do not play yourselves and get gifts for each other. If one of you veers from this and buys a gift…..don’t get your panties or boxers in a bunch when the recipient says “Thanks” and then has nothing for you. YOU PLAYED YOURSELF HOMIE.

Let me know if you have any questions and Happy Festivus.

It’s time for a trade-in

Am I the only person who has a spouse that calls them from their car and says:

“Hi. My name is Mr. 1969 and my sign is Libra. I like a girl who can cook in stilettos while balancing a beer in one hand. If you’re looking for love….I’m your man.”

While THIS song is playing in the background? *sigh*

Return of the WU

So the other night, around 8pm, I looked outside my window and there was a man standing on my lawn. Mr. 1969 had just left the house for a run to Lowe’s for something he needed for a home project.

 Now you guys may recall that my block is extremely residential and quiet with the exception of the people in the house next door to me. My husband (and now my children) refer to these neighbors as The Wu Tangs. Why? Because it seems like there are 25 of them in that house and they are loud as HELL.

Now all summer long, I have ignored their kids running over onto my lawn. I have ignored waking up and finding trash on my property, the loud friends and music.

However, looking out the window at 8pm and seeing some grown man outside standing on my lawn was too much for your girl.

I walked outside and lo and behold….this man had spread three rugs on my grass. Say it with me…..WHAT THE FUDGE?!?!?!

I came outside, stood there and gave him the “Are you crazy stare.” There was no niceness, he got the straight Brooklyn 1969.

“I need you to pick up all of your stuff and move it over to your property.”

“I heard you ma’am but I was praying.”

“I appreciate that you are praying. Allah appreciates your devotion. Now pick up all of your stuff and move it to your property and pray over there.”

“I heard you the first time. You don’t have to say it again.”

SCREEEEEEEECH. He said that last line with an attitude. Are you kidding me? You have spread three rugs on my grass and are praying on my lawn and you have the nerve to have an attitude with me?

You know it was on and popping now right?

“Excuse me? You are camped out on my lawn and you have an attitude? Maybe if all 25 of you decided to mow your own lawn one day when you are loitering on your steps….your grass wouldn’t be ten feet tall and it would be more conducive to prayer time. I wish I would just roll up on someone’s property and throw down a damn blanket and start picnicking on someone else’s property. If I had come out here and started swinging a bat cause I thought you were trying to harm me and my children….I’d be wrong…right?”

So basically, he upped and picked up all of his stuff and went back into his house as I stood there going off.

When Mr. 1969 got home three minutes after my altercation….I was still pissed off and talking to myself. I filled him in and his words of wisdom:

“That’s why I didn’t talk to them about that damn baby stuff.”

“Mommy, why is Tali 2 so mean?”

In third grade, I rode the bus home. As a Brooklyn kid, it was the number 35 not the school bus. I rode my bus to Ho.ly Cro.ss every day. One day coming home from school, this girl Sandra started talking about me on the bus.

I was quiet in grade school. My head was usually in a book and I read everywhere I went. I had friends but I wasn’t in the cool crowd. Well Sandra started talking about me, extra loud on the bus with her circle of friends.

” She thinks she’s cute cause she has long hair.”

“She was in the spelling bee but I can spell better than her.”

“She’s stupid.”

I ignored her because Sandra was one of those girls in school that I kind of felt sorry for. She wore glasses, had an overbite (wore braces) and stuttered. She stuttered so bad that she spit when she talked and always had crust in the corners of her mouth.

The teasing went on for a few weeks. As soon as she saw me on the bus, she would get with her friends and start talking about me. I just kept my head in my book and ignored her. I knew she was trying to get to me ( I had read enough Be.ve.rly Cle.ary and Ju.dy Blu.me to know that bullies should be ignored.)

One day, Sandra must have been feeling herself cause she started picking on me at the bus stop outside of the candy store. Her friends started egging her on and she walked up to me and got in my face.

“See…she’s scared of me. I told you she’s just stupid. That’s why I…….”

She never finished her sentence. I had knocked her flat on her back.

“She broke my glasses. Whyyyyyyyyy did you break my glasses? I’m gonna get in trouble.”

Sandra started crying like a baby sitting there on the sidewalk.

The bus pulled up and I calmly got on and rode home. In peace.

Sandra never bothered me again. Come to think of it, neither did anyone else at Ho.ly Cr.oss.

My Grandfather’s Rule Number One-Hundred and Eighty: If you’re gonna fight, shut up and throw a punch.