unleashing of the vajayjay and whack self defense mechanisms

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls
Good afternoon
And we are gathered here for the game of your life (lovely! lovely!)
I want to see yuh put yuh flags up in de air right now
Sing!

Ahhh It is that time of year again. The soca songs are banging out of the five speeds. The west indians flags are blowing in the wind in every direction it is Atlanta Carnival. And I am the Italian Soca Warrior. It is the one weekend a year where I can cut loose. I can party from 10 pm to 8 am. I can wear sneakers to every party. Where breakfast is served outside of every club. Where everyone is just there to have a good time. Hopefully this year I won't be that drunk white girl getting escorted out of the club but that's a different story for another day.

Getting my rags and flags together...It will be a different kind of weekend. The usual Trini crew won't be there. Well technically they will be there, I will just not be rolling with them. I, like any good ex girl friend will be using my resources and hit the crew up for all good purposes to get in to every party possible, so me and my friends don't have to pay any covers or wait in any lines :)

Speaking of piece of shit Trinis, well okay, NOW that we are on the subject, J texts me again yesterday "Hello Angel!! I hope you are having a good day...."
A few minutes later, after no response, being that my head was still so crooked and my eyes still cross-eyed at the screen, he sends me : " If you are not having a good day I hope this helps: May Jah's blessings of joy and love always speak through our hearts and keep us on a path that is sure!"

can I just say...what the fuck? OK. Now let me just stop and say that I already double checked, and the the message a few days ago was apparently no accident. But these two? I am beginning to think that there are two Bellas in his phonebook and he is accidentally texting me instead. While outlandish, it is something that I have to tell myself. It is a complete and utter whack self defense mechanism but it's all I gots right now. Why else would this man pull this shit out of his ass two months later. Now granted we are going to probably be running into each other socially this weekend alot more in comparison to what we have been the past two months, but really dude. I'm about as confused as Jenna Jameson in a convent. Let's just say that I really am starting to feel like I have a few characters turning my life into a LIFETIME MOVIE NETWORK SAGA.

And since we are talking about confusing men and all. Lets talk about BS. And those were really his initials. Shoulda been sign number one huh? But nooo...Bella wants to be hard headed. I meet this guy at the soca club. Shoulda been sign number two huh? But nooo...Bella wants to have a soft ass too. So he's cool. We do like this double date thing-a-muh-jig. Our friends don't click. But we all click as a group. Like we really all got along reaaaaaaaaaaaaaaally well. Like too well. Like freakishly well. Anyway BS totally boo-ed me up. No, really. Boo-ed me up. I mean callin me, textin me, tellin me he was missin me. Yeah, I fell for it. Granted I am a sucker for a man who will say and do all the right things, especially around the completely over-rated consumer fed Valentines Day. Which was right around the time we....I....He....it....the vajayjay was unleashed. It was good. We vibed. The sex talk was ridiculous. He said god awful things. Things a girl would never want to hear. I mean. ***Whispering***(so happy this page is for authorized audiences only) He actually told me he wanted to be the last piece of well, you know, in me. You know my legs froze on that one. Kegals stood at attention. What the bloooooooooooooooodclot was that dread? So I tried so badly to let that slide. But he said it the next time we, you know.

Oh. Wait. I left out a very important part about our relationship. Its span was about......9 days. And then he fell off the face of the earth. Hmmmm. Wonder why that was. Good thing he wasn't the last Captain Snickerdoodle to rock my docks. I would have been assed out. He then suddenly resurfaced months later with some fuckery about how he lost his phone, rah rah rah, had to go through his phone bills to find my number. BOOOOOOOOOOO. Well too bad for BS. Did I mention that I am fully aware that I unleashed the chocha way too soon. I understand that I brought his disappearance on myself, and I am completely okay with that. I even remain cool with his homeboy, Q. Q and I kept it cool on myspace. And q, my girl and I even clubbed it one weekend. Unfortunately my coolness with Q has led him to think that it's appropriate to invite BS out on my weekend of carefreeness (which isn't really that carefree since I need to worry about staying between that perfect level of drunk but not ignorantly drunk, while having a ridiculous amount of fun and trying to maintain my beautiful composure at the risk of running into J at any given moment at any given party).

Ooooooooooooh THIS is gonna be fun.

OH LAWD get me through the month

So yeah, B, you know the broke ass bitch...he sucks. Went up in the job, made him sign a piece of paper, cause I will Judge Judy dat ass...and you think he's givin me any money? NO. you think a grown man with two jobs could afford less that $100 a week in rent and utilities?NO. I gave him two weeks called him, he didn't answer. Texted him telling him I needed to meet up with him and get some money....do you know that this broke ass dude called me screamin on ME. HA. Telling me he didn't appreciate me coming up to his job, which he forgets, I worked there for 4 years, worked there before this broke ass man even knew where it was. And he most definately didn't appreciate me texting him. What was I supposed to do ask you hows the family, the weather....NO. The only thing I have to say to him is about getting my money. Conveniently he threatened his wife on me-because all of a sudden they care about each other, suprised he didn't threaten me with his two chics on the side as well... Ironic that both my brother's car window and my car window got smashed out the night I made him sign that paperwork...hmmm. So I pulled a Judge Judy, he wants to go Jerry Springer on me. REAL MATURE. But you know, if he couldn't afford less than a $100/wk, I don't know how he is gonna afford $750+ a month. He will crash and burn financially. TRUST AND BELIEVE. And you know what? I'll still be surviving, in my $850+, on my own and still being owed that money that it took to help his broke ass out.
UUGGGH hate men who can't do anything for themselves but wanna claim being grown.

In other news, I moved. Finally. Yeah that story's a bitch. Considering I was moving to my new apartment, left just to go back to my old home for the night. BAM. Freakin Tornado. They since have moved me into the same complex, different building, to a unit that I absolutely can't afford and will have to move again in 4 months as soon as my original unit is labeled "habitable." But I guess I can ride the free upgrade for as long as possible.., :)

This MF....

so what had happened was, my brother moved out of our lease..in the middle of it. Left his $800/wk job to go make $300 week. Left sunny Atlanta, for the dreary armpit of the nation...Upstate NY. All for some pussy, i.e. his girlfriend. (Mild haterade tone due to the fact that apparently the only man I have met thus far to make these types of sacrifices...is related to me...)

Anywhoo... In comes scumbag #9,324 of my life. Great. Some one to pay my brothers rent, it'll help him out, I'm all for it. My brother gets to stay in the armpit of the nation chasin after his girl, I get to keep my incredibly affordable newly remodeled 3 bedroom 2 bathroom home I have found in downtown for $995.00/month. Well, scumbag #9,324, let's call him...B- and no that's not a coincidence that B stands for Broke ass Bitch. So I meet B through a friend, we become acquainted, he moves in. It's cool for like a day. Cause instantly he's comin up with some bullshit as to why he doesn't have any money. How does he not have any money? He works two jobs, his child support isn't unrealistic, he drives a car with like 150,000 miles on it...what the hell is goin on? But I'll be patient. I'll work with him-like a DUMB BITCH. We got to a point where we didn't even speak when we saw each other in the house, walking past each other like we never met. I don't know why our relationship turned like that. We used to be cool. He became one of those people that just drove me the fuck insane. Prolly cause he owed me so much damn money but...He would actually use my laundry detergent, and if it ran out he had his own stash in his bedroom. Who the hell hoards laundry detergent. Never took the garbage out. Would pile it under the kitchen sink in a small can until you could barely shut the door. Oh and my favorite...Would take my laundry out of the WASHER, and just leave it wet in random cardboard boxes. Never contributed to any household products of any sort...would turn the heat up to 83 and leave it on all day while he was at work. Why'd he care he wasn't paying for shit...

I have tried to think of reasons why he started acting stank all of a sudden....Is he embarrassed (side note: he should be ashamed that he couldn't afford to come out of pocked $400.00/month flat fee for everything)? Was he too busy having his wife in my house during the day, and his girlfriend there at night, and incorporating a female roommate into conversation was just to complicated for him? Iunoo...

Where's a bitches money? I don't give a fuck if he was humping Asexual midgets in that room, or if he was selling his rotten penis for $2 a hit....Just bring me my money. His total balance is $660 that he owes me. His excuse was he had to put down a deposit for his own place since the lease at the house was up. Now, if he was a smart, considerate person he would say..."Damn, I don't have shit. I prolly ain't gon' have shit for a while...lemme move into a rent by the room where my broke ass was before." Nooo....he didn't say that to me, whom has a whole house full a'shit that I can't just go stay at some sleazy motel, or by the lot at some dirty trailer park. He boldly looked in my face and explained why he and his 2 laundry baskets of clothes, and 1 pool stick, deserved to move into a new place....while I get to sit around like retard waiting for this money to come, that, p.s. ain't never coming....

He changed his phone number the day before he moved out, finally called me....on some yet again broke as a joke bullshit. Said he would call me Monday with my money. Monday came and went. Tuesday, I blew the hell up out of his phone. When I wasn't callin, my girl was, when she wasn't callin my ex was. So I hear my ex smackin his gums this morning, huffin and puffin, cursing in his foreign language of backwoods Trinidadian...I wake up, ask what's wrong....This MF turned his phone off. Not off as in to voicemail. OFF as in it's disconnected. Now maybe his broke ass didn't pay the bill, but what are the chances....Looks like Bella gonna hafta run up in the job today...cause I know where BOTH his jobs are, and his new apartment. I will get my $660.00 worth of driving this man insane. He's gonna be so sick of me that he's gonna have to grow back his hair just to pull that shit out...

As for someone who takes pride in watching all those damn shows:Judge Judy, Maria Lopez, Mathis, Joe Brown, this list goes on...I should have gotten all this dumb shit in writing saying he owes me money.
I fucked up. I should have kicked his broke ass to the curb. I shoulda stolen his ATM card. I shoulda told his wife about his girlfriend...I guess from now on if a grown ass man looks broke, smells broke, acts broke, and tries to move into my house with two laundry baskets and a pool stick. I guess I'll have to send his broke ass back to where he came from.

Drama only comes in a restricted phone call

OK, so if I have ever learned anything in the past ten years of life its that *67 at times can be your best friend. But ladies and gentleman I promise, it can become your worst nightmare. Now I don't know about y'all but when my phone rings through unavailable, restricted, or private- it's bad business. In fact you call me from a restricted number you gonna get the rudest most gully attitude an Italian could ever put down. And here are a few reasons why *67 aren't doin it for me.

Ladies: It could be that psycho ex boyfriend tryin to call, somebody's baby mama tryin to track down this fool like we supposed to know where they at, Your new mans ex-girl callin with her friends just breathin in the phone like she the new cast member of star wars, your man's girl on the side causin all sorts of drama.....just DRAMA.

And fellas this restricted caller ID conspiracy effects you too. Who you think calls you five times when yours triflin' behind was supposed to be home 4 hours ago? Who do you think calls and hangs up just to make sure your phone was workin when you didn't call? or calls on restricted after we called you from our unblocked number and you didn't answer? or how bout callin from restricted and tryin to crack into your voicemail....just DRAMA.

And this isn't true in all cases. Hell I've been through all that, but now I get the fun twist in the unavailable call history reports. Creditors. Oh you know they thought they were smart when they figured this shit out. Callin me on restricted thinkin I'm gonna answer. Well you know what I got for them. They got their own ringtone. Yup you got it. All incoming unavailable numbers have now been designated Wu-Tang Clans "CREAM" ringtone. Now i Hear that, that phone can be in the bottom of my purse and guess what, it's gonna stay there. I didn't have their money last month, I don't have it this month, and my logic reasoning can only come up with this hypothesis : they aren't gettin it next month. So I'm not answering. And if I do answer because they got their act together and hit *82, I tell them that Cristina isn't here, she went to rehab, holla back in 6 months. And if 6 months passes and they still are calling, I tell them I relapsed. So sorry.

I just think that some scandalous person designed this system. Parole officers, private detectives, some psychotic scandalous baby mamma, and apparently telemarketers and bill collectors. Just warning people. Beware. Do not pick up your phone. If we ban together on this issue *67 will become a thing of the past and we can all know who is blowin us up. Besides you can only hear Cash rules everything around me, CREAM, get the money, DOlla Dolla Bills y'all so many times until you want to put Drano on your q-tips.