Sunday, November 29, 2009

VA is for Lovers, Why All the Pressure in MI?

Howdy and how be ye air quotes good people?
Surprised that I’m not gonna take it as far as I usually do?
I don’t feel like it today; if you want abuse call up one of your local dominatrices. I don’t care where you are, there are at least three of ‘em in your town.
The internet is still down in mi casa. After I wrote my poetic, alliterative, description of myself and the breakdown of my thought process, I spent a good two hours tryin’ to fix my wireless router so I could post it. To no frickin’ avail. This is day three of me being without my internet and I can’t take too much more of this shxt. Not only do I get bored easily and relieve said boredom by blog cruising, not only does it make no sense whatsoever for a blogger to be without the frickin’ net, but I’ve got work that I need to do this week and I do it all online. I can’t even hi-jack an unprotected wi-fi signal from one of my neighbors. The weather conditions are suck and make the signal strength suck even more than it usually does.
So, no tellin’ when y’all will see this one, hopefully mom will hurry up and call those fxckers at Comcast and I can post soon. I think that Biggby is closed or I’d go down the street to the nearest one, have a Caramel Marvel and a chocolate chip muffin and answer all of my email. Oh, and post my blogs of course.
I wish that I’d been able to make it to the DMV this year for Thanksgiving for a few reasons.
1) It’s the DMV. I’m in love with the whole “urea” and I’ve got a shxt load of people and places that I wanna see. Plus
2) it’s not MI and that’s more than good enough for me.
3) Lil One and I have business to attend to, namely the perpetuation of a drive by committed with backpack super soakers full of melted yellow snow…cones. Eric keeps saying that he wont do it but he has yet to experience my extreme sad face, poked out bottom lip and puppy about to be euphonized at an overcrowded shelter look. We’d be rollin’ down the highway in his Gremlin rappin’ along to “Typical” before he knew what hit him.
But, due to some extreme loafage on behalf of my benefactress, ya girl was stuck at home for the holiday.
Oh. Frickin’. Joy.
Don’t get me wrong, I love mi familia, I do. I would even go as far as to say that I’m thankful for them because I am. But do I like them all the time?
No. Hell no.
This year was much like last year in the way that damn near all of the prep and cooking duties fell to yours truly. They say that it’s to prepare me for when I move out and host my own Thanksgiving dinners at my place. I say it’s because they’re lazy as shxt and that they’ll be lucky to even know where I live once I’m gone. I don’t have privacy behind the locked door of my bedroom. I refuse to let my apartment be the same way.
I didn’t mind the cooking, I enjoyed it actually.
I made collard greens, corn bread, sweet potatoes, macaroni and cheese, a peach pie and a sweet potato pie. I also cooked the turkey. Now that, cookin’ the bird, had me worried a lil bit. If I effed up and didn’t produce a juicy, moist turkey, I never woulda heard the end of it from the fam.
No, it wasn’t the cooking that got to me, it was the eating arrangements. For some, still unknown to me, reason, I was sat next to Nana…

Look, I love my grandmother y’all but she could miss me with her constant complaining. My aunt had barely finished saying grace when Nana looked around the table, sighed oh so dramatically sand remarked
”I don’t like this; we need men around the table. I’m tired of all these female faces.”
I took that as my cue to go to the buffet we had set up to fix my plate. When I got back to the table with my plate, Nana turned to me and in a stage whisper she asked, “Reni, don’t you want a man?”
In lieu of an answer, I forked some sweet potatoes into my mouth and concentrated on chewing and making sure my bra strap didn’t show. But did my non-answer deter Nana? Sadly…no.
”Honestly, you’re getting older LauRen, don’t you wanna get married soon?”
Married? Soon? Uh…no. I’m good on that. I’ve been twenty less that four months and here she is in the pursuit of great-grandchildren. Lawd.
If 2012 isn’t the end of the world like everyone says it is—don’t start wit’ me on that foolishness, I don’t believe it. They basically said the same shxt about Y2K and nine years later here we are—I do indeed see myself getting married. But not before that. Well, there is only one exception to tat rule and it would be if the one who already bought my ring would get down on one knee and asked me…
Nana went on to say that she had a vision that our entire family and my still faceless man would be going on a cruise next year for Christmas. Unfortunately, I’m going to have to ask that Nana gets her vision corrected as I have one of my own. Next Christmas, I see myself far the fxck away from Lansing and my family. And if there does happen to be a man in the picture, no way in hell would I subject him to the mess that is my family. See, my family is the type of thing that could make someone break up with you on Christmas and as mi familia doesn’t drink, I wouldn’t be able to cope with the nonsense by drinking cup after cup of alcohol rich egg nog.
Later on in the car, mom told me that Nana had a point. That I won’t be warm at night without a man. I gave her my soon to be patented, “what the fxck is this sick shxt spewing out of your mouth right now? Do you not hear and recognize your nonsense? look and told her
”I’ll be plenty warm under my electric blanket”
Then I put my Skull Candy’s back on and zoned to Evanescence’s Fallen album.
Tryin’ to get me coupled up with some Lansing nigga. Bah.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Adventures in Alliterative Boredom

I. Am. Frickin’. Bored.

My parental unit effed around and did somethin’ to the wireless router when she was bein’ all extra and quote unquote cool by tryin’ to hook up the HD TV Tuner that she bought for herself on Black Friday and now, I have no Internet on my laptop. Again. That is the second frickin’ time this year smh. I had it ever so briefly at 6 AM when I was typing up my previous post, but before I could even begin to answer the txt messages sent to my Google Voice number online, the net went out once frickin’ more and now at 12:17 PM the bxtch is still out. Grrr.

So, as I so often do when I’m bored which is shamefully so often, I decided to write. I wouldn’t even bother to mention it here if I had no intention of rewriting it for you. Duh.


The slow, not so bright and all others who didn’t score at least 1000 on their SAT should take this time out to locate the nearest dictionary. I used more of those “big” words and I don’t want anyone to choke while trying to say and/or understand one of them.

Got your Miriam-Webster’s ready boys and girls? Good. Let’s see if you can hop aboard my train of thought as it pulls out of the station.

I am…

A laconically loquacious learner of life’s lessons
An above average, anti-avaricious audiophile unafraid of adversity
Unique and untamed, understandably able to understand the utterances of the mentally understaffed
A recalcitrant renegade rebelliously ruling her reality, able to regale you while refuting the claims of the self-righteous; always self-righting.
An enigmatic non-elitist; excoriating exerciser of the excrement excreted from the mouths of each and everyone I come across in my everyday life.
No holds barred.
A natural known for my knack for faux naïveté; numb in the nominative sense to what matters not.

I am…LauRen.

Please tell me that you don’t need me to explain this one to you. Please? Crap, I do?


Look at the first letter of each of the highlighted words. You do notice that they correspond with the letters in my given name, correct? You get it now? Good, here’s a cookie.

I just hope you don’t mind that it fell on the floor…

What’s that? You cracked open a dictionary or just Googled one and say someone can’t be “laconically loquacious”? That it makes no sense and that these words are the opposite of each other?
*pats you on the head*
you’re so cute when you’re hopelessly lost to mine brilliance. Kinda like a puppy. It’s sweet.

To be laconic means to use very few words while to be loquacious means the direct opposite, tending to talk a great deal. That’s talkative for my mental midgets out there. By saying that I’m laconically loquacious, I meant that I can use very few words to say a lot. Which, despite what you’ve read here on my blog, I am ale to do. I’m talkin’ about in the real world. On my blog I can say whatever the eff I wanna say.
You still with me? Do I need to break down the rest for you? Y’all are lucky that I’m bored and without my internet connection still or else I wouldn’t even bother with this nonsense. Bet you Michelangelo didn’t have this hard a time explaining his art…and no, I don’t tend to exercise my laconic loquaciousness this time around.

To be audacious is to be bold, daring or fearless. For the most part I fear nothing and no earthly man, woman, or child. Unless we’re talkin’ about Rihanna. That bxtch looks like she’d head-butt someone with her twelve-head, cut them open with her claw like nails and happily play with their entrails while reciting demon scripture. Tell me that isn’t the least bit frightening and I shall tell you that the devil is a lie and he lives inside of Ms. Fenty.
Those of you who know me, think you know me and know nothing about me can see that I’m an above average young woman. I refuse to break that down any further than it’s been broken down. I won’t let the words lose their integrity because of your lack of understanding. Hmph.
Avarice: an unreasonably strong desire to obtain and keep money.
Anti: opposed to something.
So…as I’m anti-avaricious, that means that I have no strong desire to get and keep money, that I’m non-materialistic. Don’t get shxt twisted now, I like money, I really do. However, it’s not the only thing in the world worth having and I’m not constantly in the pursuit of it. I need more of it, but I’m not gonna let that need consume me. There’s more to life than chasin’ down every temporary high…and yes, that does include money.

I refuse to define “uncommon” for you and if you can’t figure out what it means without my assistance…you’re slow. And not that good The Tortoise and The Hare, slow and steady wins the race type of slow either. The same goes for “unique”, “untamed”, “understand” and all forms thereof.
An “utterance” is something that is said and/or made vocal. As for mentally understaffed, that means short-staffed; not all there; lacking; etc. etc in the brains department. Ah…you get it now I see. Another cookie for you then and yes, this one fell on the floor as well.

Regal means royal. Unlike some females that are waiting for a man to name them queen, I’ve done so myself and I delight in wearing my crown on a gangsta lean.
As a recalcitrant renegade, I’ve abandoned my previously held beliefs and I rule my reality rebelliously because of that. People call me headstrong and stubborn, I just say that I’m  challenging and not for the weak of stomach or mind. I’m unconventional in the way that I don’t think like others, those that are my age and otherwise. I refuse to conform to societies long held beliefs that (African American) females should act a certain way and I not so silently protest by refusing to be seen in a negative, stereotypical light. And I do it all with my brand of off, slightly dark to those blinded by the light, humor.
Admit it, I entertain you.
I prove the self-righteous wrong by contesting their oftentimes—and oh so very annoying—holier than thou beliefs. I know that it isn’t my place to judge someone and I honestly don’t despite what you may believe. However, if I can shine a light on someone else’s bullshxt and nonsense, I do so. Without judging of course. Tis the way I roll.
Self-righting is pretty much self explanatory. No matter how many times I’ve been capsized in the storms that occur on this “ocean of life”, I always find a way to pick myself back up and continue to cruise along until I reach my destination.

Enlightened am I since I like to consider myself well informed, hip to shxt if you will. At the same time, I’m mysterious. A puzzle wrapped enigma that’s been cloaked in confusion and presented to the world in the form of 5’7 and a half inches of light skinned, brown eyed, sexy lipped thickness. That’s me.
I joke about being better than some…alright, all of you, on a regular basis, but that’s just what it is, a joke. Honestly. I believe that no one person is better than another as we all were created equal. I just act the way I do because it’s fun and easy to do. *shrugs*
I denounce, refute and go against the bullshxt that gets expo990oielled from the mouths of the masses on a daily basis. And yes, that does include what comes out of my own mouth, I’m not afraid to call myself on my bullnonsense and I do so when I need to.

No holds barred, pretty much speaks for itself, right? As does natural. As for my faux naiveté *giggles* I just find it fun to amaze people who think that based on how quiet I am I’m stupid and have nothing to say. Last semester, I was always scribbling in my notebook and didn’t say a word in my Intro to Psych class and my professor thought that it would be funny to call on me when I obviously wasn’t paying attention. She asked me to name for her two defense mechanisms. I named five and gave her a description of each while she stood there with this look
on her face. It was great.
Numb in the nominative sense to what matters not…
A nominative is a grammatical form, and if I don’t feel it or some kinda way about it—if I’m numb to it—then I’m not going to waste my time identifying it as the subject of a sentence or clause. Makes sense, right?

Don’t you feel like you know me even better now?


Friday, November 27, 2009

Cult Leaders Invented the Remix

Howdy and how be thee first time visitors, long time lurkers and those in the apparent pursuit of awesomeness as you’re currently visiting LauRenxExCarter on Blogspot Way. How has life been treating you and all those other questions that I’m supposed to ask like I honestly care and am too lazy for to do so as it’s six in the AM. I sincerely hope all is well with you though. Remember; I’m still in my don’t nobody bring me no bad news frame of mind. Beside that, if everything isn’t alright with you, who’s gonna feed my blog the hits that it so desperately hunger for? Don’t get me wrong, I care on a personal level as well, but I’m thinkin’ about my blog stats.

*Kanye Shrug*

How am I?


I’m not alright, not at all. I failed myself and I failed Him as well and I’m not happy about it.

I tried y’all, I really did, but at the end of the day and when it’s all said and done, I wasn’t able to make the twenty-three days idea pan out. I called it a journey and I ended up getting more lost than I began with. Around the time that I posted Day Five, it felt like my map and compass had been ripped from my hands and I had been blindfolded and spun around multiple times only to be left to wander aimlessly.

I couldn’t find a way to express my heart and say I needed to say in my 23 Days so…I have to start over. This time, I’m gonna do it right and take my time to show and tell Him what I need Him to know. I’m taking the time out so I can get it right. So I can present something worthy to a King. I gave him the frame with my rambled musings, now I need to really paint that picture for Him.

And I’ll try my damndest to create for Him a work of art. A masterpiece of words painted for Him with the pigments of my multihued emotions with every stroke of my pen across the page and that of my fingers on the keys…but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

Let’s get into this one.

Let me break this down for y’all in case you were too…damn.

I can’t find a nice word synonymous with stupid that wont get me mentally cursed out by y’all. But then again, what do I care for? It’s not like you’re bad enough to leave me a blog comment or anything like that and I need to hop off of the Tangent Line and back onto the My Track of Thought Express. If you’re as obtuse as I’m trying to insinuate that you are, I suggest that you let that marinate and maybe your diminished mental capacity will be replenished by something that you soak up and find yourself able to use at a later date.

Now, in case you were too simple-minded to realize it, I’m not your “typical” blogger. Matter of fact, I’m not ya typical and/or average anything and thinking so will result in you catchin’ a Chuck Taylor All Star to the right side of ya dome.

The “typical” blogger will write up, copy and paste or trackback to a typical blog about fashion, the entertainment biz, technology or music. Which is all fine, dandy and peachy keen like if you wanna be like everyone else, but as for (Lau)Ren and herself?

We shall be different.

If you could get my closet door open—I still stuff shxt in there and I can admit it—or took a look at the clothes strewn in and about my room, you’d see that I give nary an eff, you, see or kay about fashion. Give me a pair of jeans, a cute and possibly offensive graphic tee and shoes that coordinate and Ren is a happy girl. As for the entertainment biz, there are only a few people that I find to be entertaining and I can’t think of too many celebrities that I care enough about to celebrate. On the technological side of the spectrum, what do I look like writing a blog about something that probably cost more than my tuition at LCC? That’s just as stupid as those people that I see up on campus with MacBook Pro’s. Like I said before, if you own a Mac and go to a community college, your priorities are out of whack and all askew. However, I will concede that this is pretty awesome and if it didn’t cost 3/4’s of my tuition and if I didn’t go to a community college, I’d find a way to get it. As for music, which you’ve seen me write about a few times, if I don’t like it or feel some kinda way about it, I’m not gonna waste my time writing about it.

Basically, this is what it comes down to:

For the most part, I don’t give a fanga in the middle about that shxt and have no qualms about letting it be known. Look at the title of my blog.

The Life and Times of (The Infamous) Mz. Ren

Now peep the description.

My life. My times. The infamy shall ensue.

The description says it all but I worry about the intelligence quotient of some of y’all—one of my Murrland jayo’s told me that I use too many “big” words after he read my blog [-____-]—I will break this down once more.

This blog is about my life and the times in which they’re occurring. It’s about the ish that I find to be relevant and/or interesting but most likely funny because it involves someone that I don’t like falling down a flight of steps or in a more hilarious situation, falling up them. It’s about the people that I care about and the people that I care to do without. This is where I can be as mockingly sardonic and satirically, even caustically, mordant as I wanna be as I explore that disreputable, notoriously infamous side of me that writes

This is my shxt niggas!


in 36 point, bold and selectively underlined, hot-pink Scriptina font.

It has been for 100 posts and it will continue to be so for 100 more if I so choose.

You don’t have to like it and please don’t think that you’ll hurt my feelings by telling me as much. This is not kindergarten and we aren’t in the sandbox homie.

However, if we were and you tried to come out the mouth with some dumb shxt like that? Yeah, you woulda found yourself eating a sandcastle with a side of wooden blocks—those punk ass triangles that nobody wanted to use—and a mud slushie chaser.

Jus’ playin’!

I was an angel when I was younger.

Well…my halo covered up my horns for the most part.


Friday, November 20, 2009

What I Need Right Now Is…a Star

Every wish that I’ve ever made has lead me to you and I thank God for the broken road that I travelled to lead me to you
I’m not even about to hit y’all with an introduction this time around. I can honestly say that I’m not in the mood to make my particular brand of lighthearted if one sided banter. So…let’s get it.

I make the wishes that I make in memory of Jay.
When we were younger, An American Tail was one of our favorite movies and we used to drive his family crazy whenever we watched it because we had to recite every line and sing every song.
About a year or so before he passed away, we were watching the movie and trying to act as though he had all the time in the world left to live. When the movie got to my favorite song Somewhere Out There” he let the scene play then paused the movie. Turning to me, Jay asked me if I knew what the song was saying. Smart ass that I am, I gave him my signature “why don’t you break it down for me since I’m so slow” look and told him that I had no clue what it meant.
Giving me his “why you gotta be so damn difficult” look, he told me:
No matter what happens, no matter where you go or what you do in life, there’s gonna be someone out there that loves you no matter what. Someone who may have never met you is saying a prayer for you right now in hopes that they will meet you one day. They’re saying a prayer because they know that you’re out there waiting for them. They may not know who or where you are, but they know that somewhere, maybe near and maybe far, you’re out there and they’re waiting to meet you. The very thought of you could be the only thing that’s helping this person get by
At this point, he stood, grabbed me by the hand and dragged me out to the backyard.
[which I was not happy about, it was cold as shxt that night]
Once we were in the yard, he told me to look up. Doing so, he told me to make a wish for that as yet, unknown person. Without turning around to look at him, I told him that if any wishing was going to be done that night, it would be a wish for him.
“You gotta get used to the fact that I’m not gonna be here forever Ren, I have. It’s not all about me and it’s not even all about you. It’s about the other person too.”
“Why should I care about someone I don’t even know?”
“Because they care enough to do the same for you.”
Knowing that I’d never be able to win with him, I found my star and I said my wish…

Three and a half years later, it came true.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

I’m Glad to See That Ignorance is Alive and Doing SO Well

LauRen Elizabeth and the no good, shxtty ass, let me calm the fxck down before I find a bxtch and choke her out for lookin’ at me wrong and end my ass up in jail day

I am not in a good mood right now and as of now I have no clue what’s gonna happen as my fingers fly over the keyboard of my laptop, so, there is a possibility that I may offend someone with this post and it’s guaranteed that I’ll give nary a damn or a fanga in the middle about it. I don’t live my life to please any of those who aren’t living to please me and seeing as none of y’all are tryin’ to do a gotdamn thang to better my life right now, I really don’t care. Take it how you wish to take it. As always, that’s on you.

*sighs and counts to ten*

I’m trying not to have a stroke-aneurysm-heart attack combo right now and people are making it difficult by tap dancing on my last good nerve the way that Satan tap danced across my screen while I was listening to Rihanna’s Rated R album. What’s really pissin’ me off is that today started out so well too. But it is what it is and I’m moving on. Think I’ve got a topic now.


Oh the many and varied ways that I love people.

What’s that? You detect a not so subtle tinge of sarcasm? Good. I meant for that to happen. Believe me when I say that if I didn’t want you to know that I was being sarcastic, you wouldn’t. As I write this, I’m sitting on Twitter—like I do when I’m bored so tis a frequent thing with me—and watching ignorance reign supreme on the trending topics. #blackthoughts is currently the number one trend, and I’m pretty sure that our collective ancestors are downright thrilled with the responses that are being garnered as I shake my head and type.

Here are some examples of some typical #blackthoughts tweets

And things of that nature for more, click the link.

The ignorance that is currently on display is staggering and I don’t have time nor the patience necessary to sit and watch my race be insulted and stereotyped by it’s own members.

For every one


tweet, there are twenty




Making a mockery of who and what you are? Especially in the name of a trending topic? That’s self-hate and it’s a disease no matter how you try to spin it. While I’m on the subject, you can’t label something as a “black” thought, then get mad when some non-black person chooses to comment and go in on the topic as well. You can’t stereotype yourself and then wonder why others treat you in a stereotypical manner. It doesn’t work like that.

On that note, I leave you with “The Kramer” by Wale. Listen to the lyrics, think on what he’s saying in the song.


And make sure, anything you say
Can be held against you in any kind of way
In any connotation and viewed any way
Cuz under every “nigga” is a little bit of Kramer
Self hatred, I hate ya and myself…

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

You Minus Me? That Equals Better Math


What it be like erryone? How art thou lives on this cold ass November day? Oh, they’re good? Don’t you feel special, loved and tickled pink all at the same gotdang time?

Oh, things are going bad for you? Well you know what? Suck it the eff up. I’m still on my “don’t nobody bring me no bad news kick because I’ve got shxt to do and don’t feel like seein’ the inside of a jail cell, so, if you have a problem and insist on tryin’ to bring me into it when I’m having a goodish day and haven’t thought about choking someone in more than an hour, this is what Ren says to you

I was bored, made it on PhotoFiltre out of said boredom

You see, LauRen/Ren—*sigh* someone was asking me about the difference between Ren and LauRen earlier today. One of these days I shall discuss the “difference” between the two, I’m tired of answerin’ these Gonzo (nosy) fools questions about me. Fxckers.—honestly hath no more time for the bullshxt.

So yeah, that’s it for me this time boys, girls and all those in between and on the outskirts of each. I’ve got a dinner for to cook for my family and I, so I shall throw on these tracks of the day and go wonder if the person I’m not so low key flirting with is gonna call while I slave over a hot stove or at all. When I asked if he was gonna call he said he would but shxt, I’ve told niggas the same thing. Just did it last night. Then I did it earlier today. Then there was that guy who called when I was on the phone wit’ Miss Maria…


Anywho, I’m on my R&B shxt today.

First up, we have “Take Care” by Marsha Ambrosius formerly of Floetry.

Next, we have “Sex For Yo’ Stereo” by Trey Songz 

And last, but certainly not least, we have “Suffocated” by Bryan Ellis

Speaking of Mr. Ellis, someone out there has to have the download link for his song “Cry Now I can’t find it anywhere and none of my connects—who claim to have everything *side eye*—can find it for me. So, if you have it or know of someone who has it, send it to me please and I will love you forever and three days. Or until you do somethin’ to piss me off. Send the track to if you can find it please and thank you oh so very much.

Well, that’s it for now. Wonder if mister man person dude is gonna call or not…

I’m out.

Monday, November 16, 2009

May Ye Barbie Bxtches Burn in a Mattel Hell

Howdy and how be thee folks. Here’s to hoping it was a beautiful day in your respective neighborhoods. In mine? Twas cold as a witch’s titty…if she was standing in an ice chest locked in a deep freezer in the middle of Antarctica. It’s fxcked up that it’s usually a good 10 degrees warmer outside my house than it is inside chez Ren. Blame it on poor insulation if you like but I’m choosing to blame it on Tyrone, The Spirit of Gangsta Homo Thugs Past. That bxtch nigga hid my effin’ Snickers, probably ate that shxt. Fxckfacedbastardtard, get on my dang nerves.Word to Tweekygirlbandit as she knows exactly what I’m talkin’ about.

Anywho, right now I’m sittin’ in Positive Psychology, bored outta mi frickin’ cabeza, starin’ at the cup that my white mocha came in, wishing that there was something besides the wrapper from my blueberry muffin’ in it.


I’m hungry as a muhfxcka right now, so guess what? I’m not even gonna blog this time. This post hath been jacked from my [*cough*] awesome [*cough*] graphic designing sis PoloBandit and her blog. So…all you Barbie, Lewinsky, Hippie, Hoe ass Harajuku Slutpieces—I say that since I don’t really give a gotdamn about ya names. Sorry, just bein’ honest.—can direct your criticisms toward her. Let’s see if she’s lucky enough to get bog comments from you stingy fxckfaces.

Oh yeah, the extra emphasis is my own, just to let y’al know that this is how Ren feels too.

Let’s get into it.

oo, she irketh mine soul. Ren's words, not Polo's

First and foremost, This whole 'Barbie, Minaj, Harajuku' thing. Why? Because a female rapper comes out of nowhere along with Lil Wayne, every girl wants to be a Minaj, Barbie, Lewinksy whatever? Three - fourths of these females today have NO IDEA of what the word "Harajuku" even MEANS. SMH at that. Nicki Minaj is probably the fakest most plasticized character walking this planet (after Lil Kim of course.) She has fake boobs, her ass is fake, she got work done on her nose, she really IS a 'Barbie'.

 WHY are females trying SO HARD to be someone that isn't even HERSELF?

What kills me is that so many young girls/women are walking around wanting to be like her. Taking pictures in her poses, dressing like her, even going so far as to change their names on Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, etc to those stupid names worn by her. Bet you fool ass females don't even have the common sense to notice that calling yourself "Lewinsky" basically is saying that you give head. Duh.

Why would any self respecting female want to be labeled as such? No one is bashing Nicki, i myself 'used' to like her music, until everybody hopped on the bandwagon. But

 NEVER have i EVER wanted to be her or even LIKE her.



Another topic:

"Fake Pocahantas/Hippie Bishes"

L M A O .  See. . . i know a good 3,576,583,068 of you females are going to get mad but its too bad, because i don't care :)

[neither does Ren. Just to put that out there]

Anywho - Someone PLEASE tell me WHEN it became cool to walk around w| your bra strap headbands all tight around your head, damn near cutting off the circulation to your brains?

I know a lot of females get excited when they slap on their headbands, sew in their tracks, throw on those long ass skirts, and walk around like you just spent a G on your outfit knowing you purchased it in Irvington Center. Actually it's not really where you purchased your clothing. Anyone can put on some nice decent clothes, but it really is your environment that sums you up.

A girl can wear ripped jeans, leather jacket and a headband in Summit or Short Hills Mall even. And another girl can wear the same exact outfit downtown Newark or Irvington Center. Guess who looks more of a Hoodbooger?

[ ♫ Jeopardy Music starts playing ♫ ]

Thats Riiiiiight. You guessed it. The girl downtown or in Irvington Center.

Why? Because of her surroundings. It does not matter what you wear. Its all on your location. Ever notice when you go to Short Hills Mall? Aren't there a lot of white girls walking around - a lot of them looking a Mess? Hair not done. Hoodie, sweatpants and Uggs or something like that. Does anyone say anything about them, looking like 'Hoodboogers'? No. because they're Not in the 'Hood'. Now have a black female do that. She would be torn to shreds with the outside commentary.

So ladies, if you think that you are stepping outside the box with your 'white gear'. Guess what? You're NOT. Because you're still being stereotyped as the ghetto hood girl coming out of wherever you are from. Yes it does sound harsh. Deal with it. Womp.

Listen. Stop sucking the Hippe Look. You all killed it. Its 2009, and MOST of you were born like just last night. You don't know good music. You all probably still think that Lil Wayne is God and walk around saying 'Burrr'.

Well guess what; Wayne is in jail and so is Gucci. Wayne has a bagillion kids and Gucci is just . . Gucci. Ew.
S T O P . Loosen up the tight headbands . Take a deeeeeep breath . And inhale some sense.


Another thing: By calling yourself Barbie’s you foolish bxtches you, you’re ultimately setting yourself up to get played, much like the toy whose moniker you’ve taken on. Think before you jump on the bandwagon why don’t ya?

Anywho, time for my tracks of the day.

First up, we have another one from Darren Hanible, “Steez Machine” off of his Bliss mixtape


Next, we have “Electronic” by Hassani Kwess and Mouse aka The Waldorf Posterboy off of Kwess’s Cross Into the Black EP

And last but not least, “Nite Life” by my big bro Torkaveli, lil bro Lega-c and Kid Cudi off of The SmarTrip Chronicles

Listen to the music. Follow the artists. Enjoy yourself and thank me for the eargasm.

I’m out.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

I’m a Phonetic Diabetic

You’re just mad that he loves my sideways smiley faces…

bxtch (=

Hola, ni hao, bonjour and gesundheit and all that shxt. How be ye knaves, assorted common folk, princes, queens of both sexes and all other royalty? Hope all is well with thee. No, seriously, I do. My mood for the time being is don’t nobody bring me no bad news and hearin’ about your issues is gonna lead me to try to fix them for you by the use of brute force. You see this picture?

even if you don't, I like this pic so shut it on up.

Even with my eyebrows undone and lookin’ three types of unruly, I am far too cute for jail and since none of y’all bammas communicate wit’ me (*cough* leave me blog comments buttheads *cough*) on a regular basis, I’m gonna have to say
Fxck that bullshxt”
and keep it pushin’.

Besides that, knowing the Michigan penal system; I’d probably end up as Big Patty, Big Shirley or Brenda—no “big”. Her name is Brenda. Self explanatory—cellmate. Any one of those heffas would try to jack me for my cornbread then probably try to have me jack them. Oh no; uh-uh, nope. I will be damned like Dick Cheney’s soul to the lake of fire to get it’s Mike Phelps on for all eternity before I let that happen.

And I hope that some sensitive ass person is reading this and tries to come at me sideways talmbout I’m condemning someone when I’m not. I can’t chose where people go in this life or the next and I can name off the top of the dome ten people who are oh so very lucky this isn’t the case or they too would be swimmin’ laps in the Hell Olympics.

But I challenge thee to some “Wordplay” anyway.

Listen to the words, I’m a wizard wit’ it, wittier than any nigga, sicker than a wino’s kidney [and] liver

Let’s get into it, shall we?


Brilliant as I am—and if there be any naysayers among ye may you take this time out to locate the nearest dick and choke on it. KthanxiAppreciateit one word—I will never be able to understand people and the things they do. So, if ye be human, let a sista know what’s really good.

Real ish though, someone let me know what the deal is because ya girl is confuzzled like a muhfxcka. If I was feeling particularly rude today, I’d say that I’m as confuzzled as that boy who stays sendin’ me gifts on [FaceBook] Sorority Life. Son stays in a t-shirts and skinny jeans tighter than mine (altho my 40 D’s look good in my tight-ish shirts. Score one for Ren) and has this bad ass Louis V clutch that I’d dying for to steal . But actually, he isn’t confused, he and we know exactly what he is but we’re just waiting for him to say it. It’s not like we aren’t gonna love and accept the nigga, we will; tis not like that. It’s just that he’s living in a state of denial and no, it’s not just a river in Egypt. Yes, I did indeed just take it there, shake your head if you must and lets proceed wit’ a minimum amount of rudeness

*side eye to myself cuz I don’t even believe that shxt*

Now, there are a lot of ways that I could take this one if the spirit so moved me. I could wax philosophical and wonder why the chick sitting at the table behind me at  Fire Mountain keeps turning to cough in my direction when she knows that it’s cold and—swine—flu season while I sip on my Coke, scribble in my notebook and absently ponder how many squats I’ll have to do to do justice to the calories that I’ve just consumed and are quickly headed toward my ass. I’m no Buffie the Body but I’m not lackin’ in my slacks *cough* I could also wax homicidal as my little sister kicks me under the table while talkin’ her shxt as I peep (could be attractive if you squint with your eyes closed—I know what the eff I said, shut up—in the darkest place on earth on the darkest night ever in the history of the world) guy givin’ me the good ol’ thrice over, I know what I’m going to briefly touch on before the Itis claims me for a nap.

If you’re a first or even a longtime lurker of my (infamous) life, you know that sarcasm is the weapon which I use to commit my various, nefariously infamous acts. That being said, let it be known that that my sarcasm not only serves as a weapon, it is also my shield.

Ren has had more than a few run-ins with actual people that have left her—aight, me, I’m gettin’ sleepy and this third person shxt ain’t it right now—more than a little…how do you say….

Fxck it, no need to sugarcoat it:


So, I use my sarcasm to push people away. I’m real enough to admit that and respect me for doin’ so. Other than that, the shxt is fun and easy to do and people are stupid and deserve sarcasm every now and now. Again, I know what I just said. Shut the eff up.  However, men, boys and all others with any amount of testosterone in their systems seem to be turned on by that shxt and on one hand, I’m like

"”yo, I’m so effin’ awesome that my defense mechanism is an attractor”

but at the same time I’m like

"”you see that I’m usin’ my awesome powers of super sarcasm on ya ass and yet and still you wanna harass me. What. The. Fxck.”

And guess what?
That’s all for this one. Shocked? I know, on some level I am too but at the same time, I don’t intend to fall asleep tryin’ to write this before I get a chance to hit the dessert line. There are gummy bears over there y’all. Gummy Bears. They aren’t bouncing here and there and everywhere but there are gummy frickin’ bears to be had. If I fall asleep before I partake in the sugary goodness, never shall I be able to forgive myself, so let me throw on these tracks of the day.

First up, we have “Fire Bomb” by Satan’s right hand girl Rihanna

I’m gonna let y’all say what you will on this, I’ve said enough on her and her insanely dark, scary ass album Rated R. I was listenin’ to it yesterday and a black cat jumped out of the bush in my backyard, effectively scarin’ the shxt outta me. Coincidence? Ren thinkest not.

Next up we have “Go Go Gadget Flow” by lyrical husband number two Lupe Fiasco


and finally, to round it all off, “Fly Away” by my lyrical soulmate and the ambassador of rap from the capital Wale


I’m out.

Friday, November 13, 2009

SmarTrip Check

As the sounds of a syncopated go-go rhythm and background noise from the Metro fill the ears of the listener,Eric “Lega-c” Smith starts off his highly anticipated debut mixtape with a checklist. You can almost see him as he shrugs into his North Face jacket, laces up his Nike Boots and places a Nat’s fitted cap on his head. Making sure to grab his iPod, he gives a shout-out to fellow DMV artist Wale and checks to make sure that he has SmarTrip Card before taking the listener on a journey with him.

The journey begins on “Green Line” a freestyle recorded at Maryland’s Suitland Station

SmarTrip in hand, Lega-c then proceeds to lead us on a trip down memory lane on the Daasair assisted track “So Good” about a girl who used to call him her soldier. As the song ends with a promise to always treat her like he should, fellow collaborator and mixtape host DJ Torkaveli cuts in.

“…We ain’t all about the bubblegum, sugar coatin’ everything, every now and then, we gotta give you the real. Sometimes you like it, sometimes you don’t. Hate it or love it, let’s go.”

If you’re easily offended by truth then it’s guaranteed that you’re “Not Gonna Like This Track”. Lega-c banishes misconceptions about everything from hip-hop to politics as he stops listeners from seeing things the way that they want to see them and paints a picture of how things really are. Taking a jab at radio and it’s dumbed down lyrical content, Torkaveli smoothly transitions into “You’re a Dork” where Lega-c shows just how evidently better than these dork ass niggas he is by goin’ ham on them and the beat Johnny Juliano crafted. While his flow is refined, he states that his quality sucks which is why no one cares too much about his music in “LayOver” and track contributor Ill Prophet waxes poetic about the path that he’s taken and those that are fakin’ on artists from the DMV. With an assist from the Mixtape King and DMV Rebel DJ Torkaveli, Lega-c informs listeners that his reality is much higher than their salary over the beat of Kid Cudi’s “Alive”. Over some production courtesy of Vybe Productions, he and Magnum Dollar$ “Kill Dat Noise”. Then it’s time for a look back over a “Typical” Friday in the life of a young artist—not rapper.

After a ride on the “Blue Line”, Lega-c and Ill Prophet get a bit “PoLyrically Correct” and Lega-c finally meets you at your destination as the tape ends with bar after bar of straight lyricism.

To download The SmarTrip Chronicles and support DMV hip-hop, click the album art below


for more Lega-c, be sure to follow him on Twitter 

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

We Gon’ Be Beefin’ Like Gucci Mane and Carmex

What it is, what it look like and all that ish. How be all ye knaves on this splendiferously frickin’ awesomely fantastical day. How art all ye visitors to the Effin’ Fantaboulous Realm of Ren? Enjoying your stay and the mints on your pillows?

On this day, the ruler of this realm is straight siced with the way that things are going right now. Well, with the way that things are going today, not right now. Right now, shxt is…ugh. If you’ve read any of my 23DFL entries, you know why my mood has been ugh as of late. Shxt is hard y’all. You try makin’ yourself vulnerable where anyone in the world can see not knowing if the one person that it’s for will even take the time out to read.


But at least I’m trying right? If nothing else, I can say that. However, I’m not the one to be satisfied wit’ if nothing else”. Never have been nor will II ever be that one, so this is what I’m tryin’ to live right now

I'm acting on it. I'm dreaming on it. I'm planning on it...but believing it is hard, but I'm tryin'

Anyway, my mood for the day is effin’ fantastical! I had a meeting earlier about some projects with some people—I know that I’m being vague. know why? It’s fun and easy to do, beside that, I don’t wanna jinx this—and things are lookin’ pretty gotdang good for myself and Miss Jordyn Donyelle Smith. Feel free to familiarize thineselves with that name by the way. If all goes well, you’ll be seeing it one day in the (near and hopefully immediate) future.

Let’s get into this one, shall we?

I may joke and I may complain about him, but I love my Lil Bro Eric. As in a lot. Why? Um…

Cuz he is evidently better than these dork ass niggas bout to make him go ham on these pork ass niggas

Sure, he gets on my nerves but I get on his too so all is well and good. And yeah, he tried to cock block in an oh so major way a couple of months back, but that’s alright, that’s okay. I could’ve just as easily done the same for him on multiple occasions, but I’m a good big sis and I’m waiting for the right moment for to do mine blocking of cock. And since I went all rah-rah, sis-boom-bah on that ass and brought up a Bring it On reference I mean what I say. I don’t play when it comes to the movie that spawned the most annoying and stereotypical cheerleading franchise in the world. Eff whatcha thought.


Real shxt tho, this is my duder and I’ve got mucho amor y respecto por [o “para”?] el y su vida.

Lil one is pretty much awesome. He steers me clear of the typical D.C. niggas which is great. I don’t get involved wit’ typical niggas from any state, city, principality, province, town, hamlet, village, country, etc. etc. It’s just too bad that this is how our conversations regarding them go

iTook his s/n out, some of y'all that visit may be the type to stalk a nigga on AIM. Anywho, I have a newly found appreciation for dread-heads. Somethin' is just insanely sexy about that shxt. *shrugs* Judge me not

Dude that we’re talkin’ about is sexy as shxt too. *sigh* oh well.

Eric is also my fav (but definitely not only) DMV connect and he laces me wit’ good music on a regular basis. He’s the one that turned me on to Hassani Kwess and Darren Hanible which I in turn turned y’all onto so, it’s only right that I use my [not so] considerable influence in the blogosphere to turn y’all onto Lega-c [who shall always and forever be lil one to me].

On Friday, November 13th, Lega-c will be releasing his debut mixtape

The SmarTrip Chronicles

Which is—and y’all know how much I hate this word—dope. I’m not just sayin’ it because he’s my lil bro either,

I’m not that girl.

If the shxt was whack, I’d let it be known that it was whack and I wouldn’t put it anywhere on my blog, my computer or my mp3 player(s). But, I have the exclusive [unfinished due to the loafage of one of the track contributors] release of TSC on both of my media devices, in my backup/portable hard-drive and on the desktop of my laptop. If I used the desktop computer enough to care about it, it’d be there too. It’s that deep y’all.

Peep the album art below



Say it wit’ me now


I’ll be doing my review after I get the finished product. Ill ProPhet was just recently added as the feature artist on “LayOver” and I’ve yet to hear it. Speaking of lil one and Illy, let me get into these tracks of the day.

First up, we have one from the father of my imaginary children and the man who has my virginal hymen on lock—no joke, he said that shxt, peep it for yourself—Ill ProPhet

“Discordium 416”

Now, I would love to throw my favorite track from TSC “Typical” on here for y’all to vibe to, I really would. In fact, I have lil one’s permission to do so. You should know by now how much I love to screen cap shxt and I would do that right now if I could, however, I can’t find the right chat transcript that it’s in and I don’t feel like searchin’ since I have ish to do, so I’ll just throw on the following tracks:

“PoLyrically Correct” by Lega-c and Ill ProPhet

and finally “Kill Dat Noise” from Lega-c and Magnum Dollar$

For more on Lega-c, The SmarTrip Chronicles and DMV music, be sure to visit my sis and site affiliate DMVixen 

I’m out. As Illy says:


Thursday, November 5, 2009

Day Five: No Strings Attached


Fuck an intro. I tried to write one but the words wouldn’t come out the right way and there isn’t enough time to worry about silly shxt like that. I’m doin’ somethin’ different this time. Let’s get into it.

Ya know; I could see that the situation wasn’t easy on you. Despite the somewhat resigned way you spoke about it, I could see that you weren’t exactly thrilled with the way things were going. You told me as much at any rate. I know why you did the things that you did too; I understood the situation. I didn’t like it but yes, I understood it.

You didn’t need to put yourself through that though.

You know just as well as I do that the good guys and girls are the ones that are most likely to get burned in their relationships. It’s shitty, it’s not fair, but it’s the truth as we’ve both seen and it’s a lesson that we’ve both had to learn repeatedly. But you see with me? You wouldn’t have had to put up with all that. Because me? I wouldn’t have hurt you on purpose, and if and when I hurt you—because I know that I did, but, not to excuse myself or what happened, I was hurting too—I would do anything in my power to make that right. I did everything that I could to make that right. But now isn’t the time for that particular discussion.

You told me once that you were scared and that you wanted to make sure things went the right way between us. I could see that…fear without you even telling me. But you weren’t the only one afraid.

All of the hurt and pain that I’ve gone through in my past relationships? They made me into that scared girl who was hiding behind her old hurts when we first met. But then you came along and there was just somethin’ about you that…I don’t even know. For the first time, I was able to look beyond myself and because of that, I was able to see what it is that you needed.

Someone that would be there for you whenever you needed or wanted them. Someone who would see you as the king that you are and not try to play you for a fool. Someone who would never intentionally hurt you. Someone who genuinely cares about you. Someone that would give you the love that you dreamt of, the love that you truly deserve without asking for anything from you in return.

So, I gave you my heart, no strings attached in hopes that the chance we were taking would make a positive impact on your life and mine.

[listen to the lyrics]

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Who’s the Master? Sho-Nuff—The Shogun of McDonalds

Hey hey people, princes, paupers and…damn.

I’m not about to lie, I really wanna say pedophiles right now. But I won’t. I’ll just think that quietly to myself as I allow you to come up with your own word for people or a group or classification of people that starts with a “P”.

How be all of thee anyway? Not that y’all butt-monkeys ever respond in the form of a blog comment or anything like that so why the eff should I care how you are? Shxt…

As for me, I’m doin’ alright I suppose. Coolin’ at home while the lil sis is knocked out on the couch, half studying from my Philosophy book and half cursing this stupid retainer that my orthodontist tightened last week. I’m also on Twitter and thinking about the shxt I’m going to say in 3/23 and beyond. I’ve decided that I’m gonna completely re-haul the idea that I had for the remainder of the days.

What I have so far is alright I guess, but shortly after I posted day two the other day, I decided that I couldn’t keep going that same route. There’s far too much that needs to be said to go about it that way, so, starting with day three, I’ll be doing something a little different.


If you hadn’t guessed, I’m usually the one who’s like this least iAdmit it *shrugs* 

about the things that I do for other people. By my way of thinking, you’re lucky enough that I took time out of my (infamous) life to even do somethin’ for you so you get what you get and that’s the way it’s gon’ be. But not this time. I give more than a damn about what’s said to Him because there’s this foolish part of me that thinks I’ll be able to make a difference of some kind. Ugh…

*rolls eyes*

Enough on that for the time being though.

I wrote but didn’t post this one on Friday after I hijacked my Nana’s Ethernet to post my blog about the drooling man and dog faced heffa tryin’ to get buck who was gon’ get bucked the eff down on the CATA.

Let’s get into it shall we?

*takes a sip of my McDonald’s Mocha Frappe and sighs*
How art thou on this warm-ish, rainy night? Everything alright wit’ y’all? Not tryin’ to steal your kids or younger siblings Halloween candy are you? Because that’s bad. You know good and gotdamn well that you can go to Target on the first and get a bag of your favorite candy for 50-75% off. Don’t be mean and take little Jimmy’s—or Jamarquion’s depending on you and your family. I’ve made up in my mind that at least one person with a name that would make you believe that their parents didn’t want them to have an actual job has visited my blog. I see you Shanquinetta, Alexzandrionique and Walmartavia—candy. Even though I would routinely steal the Twix, Reese’s, Dots, Snickers…hell, I would take all of Boogie’s candy. But we ain’t talkin’ about me right now. And don’t try to come at me sideways wit’ some:
Practice what you preach”
ish either.
I’m not a woman of the cloth; you won’t catch me in the pulpit. Ergo, I’m not a preacher. I’m just someone tellin’ you what not to do. Consider me a law maker of these Interwebnets.

Anyway, let me hurry up and do this so I can enjoy my Friday night spent at the crib. I’ve got this caffeine and chocolate coursing through mine system and I’m bouncy like a muhfxcka. I am like forreal bouncing right at this moment and I’m tryin’ to calm myself down, but this Mocha Frappe got me hyper.

Speaking of which, let me get into this one so I can go bounce off the walls.

Shortly after I posted my last blog, my mom and I left my Nana’s house and headed to Mickey-D’s since mi madre wanted coffee and Biggby—the cheaper and better alternative to whack ass Starbucks—was closed. So, we pointed our car in the direction of the nearest pair of golden arches for some caffeinated, chocolate drizzled, whip creamed crack in the form of a Mocha Frappe.  Even though it was about 10 PM at the time, the line inside was insane, so we went through the drive through and…I can’t even do it tonight, I’ve got too much energy to be sittin’ at my laptop right now so I’m gonna cut this like way short. In fact, you get bullets tonight boys, girls and all things in between. Maybe, let’s see where the spirit moves me.

  • There is this guy that the management has put on the window late at night to coerce hungry female parishioners to buy more food because he has a voice straight out of 70’s radio. Dead ass. The way he asks “do you want fries with that” would make Barry White and Isaac Hayes proud. I bet you a dollars worth of Canadian quarters (which I’m still mad that I can get out of a vending machine but I can’t put in) that he says Ya damn right” after every order. Yes, Shaft style.
  • Every time that we hit the drive-thru and he’s workin’ the window and subsequently the order box thingy that I don’t know the name of nor do I care to find out what it is, I die a little bit inside due to silent laughter. His voice does not go with his body and even before I can’t see him, the image that I have of him in my head gives me the giggles in the worst way. In fact, the very first time I saw him I almost had an asthma attack. Ren doesn’t have asthma. Yes, it’s that’s deep.
  • I was under the impression that home-boy was black based on his voice. Believe me, if you actually get the chance to hear him you’ll think the same thing. However, this couldn’t be further from the truth ladies and gents. Now, a bold individual I may be, but I’m not bold enough to snap a picture of dude. But uh…this is what he looks like

Damn man, you don't know how much I wish this fools tat said "God's Son" so iCould be all *Nas voice* "God's son tatted 'cross my chest it's permanent"

Dead. Ass.

Now, no disrespect to fat-boy wanna be slim dude but…

Eff. I just lost my ticket and my train of thought pulled out of the station without me. Let it marinate. You’ll understand soon. Got it now?
*pats you on the head*
Good for you.

Um…yeah, this caffeine is makin’ me do very weird, random things and I’m literally bouncing in my seat while I’m on the phone talkin’ to Jayo number three who’s actin’ mighty reckless and far above his station. So, before I bounce my ass out of this house to go deal wit’ this fool, let me throw up my tracks of the day.

First up we’ve got an oldie but a goodie for fans of the boy-band set of the 90’s like myself. “Crazy For You” by NSYNC.

Don’t say anything out the way either. I was in love with them from 4th to 6th grade and I swore up and down that I was gonna marry Justin and Lance but have an affair with JC. I may still have a chance with Justin but Lance…well, we could go shoe shopping together, that’s almost as good in my book.

Next up, we have “Callin’ Me” by K.Sparks co-starring Tina Quallo off of his album Super Senior. One of the better albums that I’ve heard this year, deffy worth the space on your hard drive.

Last but certainly not least is a track by my lyrical soulmate Wale and that nigga who needs to invest in Carmex Gucci Mane, “Pretty Girls” off of Wale’s soon to be released album Attention Deficit.

Now…thanks to the bootleggers that make my gmail happy on a daily basis, I have no less than seven links to the leaked version, all seven of which I will not be linking on here. Support the DMV and please support hip-hop and go out and buy the album on the November tenth.

I most definitely will be.

Now, to handle this fool…

Sunday, November 1, 2009

The Power of Christ Repels Thee and So Do I

Hey folks. How are my favorite Saturday Night Sinners and Sunday Morning Saints? How art all of thou regardless of your saved, sanctified and Holy Ghost filled status? Hope your all enjoying this day that the Lord hath made and are indeed rejoicing in it.

How am I?

On this, the first of my twenty-three day quest for love…I’m just alright. Tryin’ to motivate myself to continue on this self imposed journey knowin’ good and gotdamn well that that there’s a possibility that shxt won’t change…


Other than that, ya girl just fought and won her battle with the Itis. The fam and I went to Red Lobster after church and I got so stuffed from the biscuits, my salad and Coke that I ate only half of my baked potato and three of my—itty effin’ bitty—chicken strips and only a little bit of the chocolate chip lava cookie thing that we as a table split for dessert. So stuffed in fact,  I inadvertently left the remainder of my food which our waitress Trisha/Trista/Something that starts with T and might just end in A, was kind enough to box up for me. Not that I couldn’t do it myself, in fact, twas my intention to do so, but I mean, she had to work for the $10 tip that she got.


I wasn’t about to stop her.

Now, Mom and I were stuffed like that big girl you saw dressed up like a slutty nurse who’s costume was made out of cotton but was stretched so damn far that it looked like a Lycra-Spandex-Poly-blend at the second Halloween party you went to last night. Boogie on the other hand was not. She ate three biscuits, had three glasses of pink lemonade and no less than four orders of shrimp scampi. Oh, I almost forgot the order of fried shrimp that she had with her initial bottomless order of shrimp.

If her mentally fat ass doesn’t slow down, she’ll be a literal fat ass. Boogie is short. That would not be a good look for her life. She’s gonna look like my dad’s shxt the bxtch looks like a boy girlfriend Martin Mary and as I said, that would not be a good look for her life.

El Jefe—that’s what the little sis and I call her behind her broad back. No clue what the older siblings call her as we hardly ever see each other *sad face* Hopefully it’s something just as rude or even more so—is built like a linebacker, mixed with a fullback and moose hybrid cross thang. She also looks like her face was assaulted by a bunch of Mexican Jumping Beans wit’ shanks, battery acid and a big ol’ bag of hell da fxck naw. But we aren’t talkin’ about her or her beyond ugly mug right now or ever. I might get nightmares.

Hmm…so, what else can I ramble on about until I get bored and do something random like go sit on my roof and stargaze while talking to one of my jump-offs [I call ‘em like I see ‘em. I don’t love these ho’s, shxt.]?

Ugh, I got nothing. So before I pick up my phone and dial Jump Off number two, let me post my tracks of the day. Yes, I know that the tag says “Track of the Day” but guess what? The singularity of the tag means next to nothin’ to Ren. The music that I pick out is cooler, doper—and you know how I hate that word and forms thereof, more deserving and lets not forget more awesome than the shxt that some of y’all listen to anyway. Don’t ever say that I did nothin’ for ya…or Him.


The first track of the day is a joint effort by two of my favorite up-and-comers—yung. The freaky, nasty and down right disgusting places that someone with a mind like mine could take that phrase. Good thing that I’m above that tonight. Or am I?—Nero and QuESt and it’s a remix to Kid Cudi’s “Sky Might Fall”.

Next up, it’s the kid Nero with

“I Get Lyrical”


off of his Alive and Vibrant Mixtape presented by the illRoots crew. Listening to him rhyme over the “I Get Physical” beat, it’s kinda hard to remember that son is only 16 years old.

And to round out this post, I give to you QuESt’s “Forever” featuring Outasight

off of the Broken Headphones Mixtape, presented by illRoots, 2dopeboyz and HipHopDX

Look. I know y’all see my links on the reggy. Click them. Especially when it’s in regards to the music I put on here. If you love lyricism and good music in general I promise that you wont be disappointed in my selections.

Would I steer you wrong?

…if you answered yes, simply put, you suck.