I was gonna do the figurative and literal “right thing” as far as keeping my mouth shut goes, but then I chipped my manicure and the fact that Sally Hansen stuck me for $6.36 worth of my dwindling paper for a damn “10 Day: No Chip Nail Color” topcoat that lasted for three and a half days reminded me of why I’ve been irritated lately, so we’ll see about that “right thing”. No Spike Lee. Not only that, but when I woke up a little while ago, I noticed that one of my nails had up and disappeared like
Naomi Campbell’s edges socks and draws. Dammit. Why won’t they let my manicure be great, yo?
So anyway, here I am. It’s 0325 and I’m sprawled across my bed, unable to go back to sleep with iLLVibes’ “I love Hip-Hop vol. 1” podcast blaring through the speakers of my Ghetto Blaster Tote from Karmaloop and…I totally just forgot what I was about to say. Eff this. I’m going back to sleep.
Friday, December 17, 2010
I was gonna do the figurative and literal “right thing” as far as keeping my mouth shut goes, but then I chipped my manicure and the fact that Sally Hansen stuck me for $6.36 worth of my dwindling paper for a damn “10 Day: No Chip Nail Color” topcoat that lasted for three and a half days reminded me of why I’ve been irritated lately, so we’ll see about that “right thing”. No Spike Lee. Not only that, but when I woke up a little while ago, I noticed that one of my nails had up and disappeared like
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Monday, December 13, 2010
Seems like every other week, I find out one of my friends or casual acquaintances is pregnant, getting married or both. I’m not judging. And really, I’m happy for ‘em, I am. Sure, Nana is starting to resent the fact that, at 21, I’m not married and have yet to give her any great grandchildren, but, that’s a grip for another time; back to the topic at hand.
Now, for every couple that’s engaged, married and/or pregnant for the right reasons—I deserve a cookie for for choosing to take the high road and not make a broken condom joke. Chocolate chip, please and thank you—there’s at least one simple ass person that thinks getting married or having a child is going to fix whatever’s wrong in their relationship. Giiiiirrrrrrlllllllll…
I’ve tried and failed to understand this shit. I mean, really. The pseudo-solutions that these
dumbasses geniuses have come up with are going to lead to more complications, nonsense, drama and bullshit later on down the line.
If your girl is a self-centered, whiny, childish ass bitch with a flair for the dramatic and a gold medal in homie hoppin’, what makes you think that getting married is going to make the fact that three of your boys can tell you what that mouth be like okay? Cuz it won’t. Basically, all you’ve done is make her a married self-centered, whiny, childish ass bitch with a flair for the dramatic who’s smashin’ the homies on some Danger shit whenever you aren’t around.
And ladies…what makes you think for a second that having a child on some “let me trap this nigga, that’s the way to make things right” ish is the right thing to do?! Really? You think that bringing an innocent life into the world is going to suddenly make dude straighten up and fly right and stop doin’ whatever it is he’s doin’ that you have an issue with?
There’s a good to better than great chance that the only things that are going to happen* are he’ll deny the child, y’all will end up on Maury and when it comes out that little Jamaquandrell Jr. is indeed his son, dude will resent the hell out of you. Not only that, but he’ll probably end up duckin’ and dodgin’ you and your cousins to avoid paying child support for the next 18 years.
Do you honestly want that for yourself?
*results are typical in a world with crappy Daytime TV
As of right now, I’m still completely and really rather removed from the state of mind known as “in the mood”. So, to commemorate this momentous and wonderfully effed up occasion, I’m gonna take this time to get some ish off my chest. Y’know, address a few of the things that have been on my mind and nerves as of late…and maybe type up a few of the blogs I never got around to posting.
I, myself, don’t know exactly what I’m about to say. I haven’t thought that far in advance yet. So, as a bit of fair warning, there’s a chance that I’ll say some things that you don’t or won’t agree with. Some things that those of you with an overly inflated sense of self-importance may take to be a personal attack on you and your character or some asinine shit like that. A very real chance.
Any other day, I’d
act like I care and apologize for what you mistakenly took to be subliminal shots being popped in your general direction while you were rooted firmly in your feelings, but, y’know what that mysterious collective of individuals known only as “they” say:
“If somethin’ hits too close to home, move.”
Honestly, I’m not looking for confrontation, so, if you’re feelin’ some type-a-way about the potentially broad, far reaching and general ass statements in the following entries, it’s strongly suggested that you confront whatever’s in you that’s responsible for making that particular type-a-way before you come at me. I don’t have the time, patience or the very will necessary to deal wit’ yo’ ass.
So, I won’t.
Friday, December 10, 2010
This probably won’t come as a shock to many of y’all, but I’m so far removed from “in the mood” right now. So. Effin’. Far.
As a matter of fact, I’m about ready to locate and choke the stuffing out of a Care Bear Cousin or two, but ya know what? While sickeningly appealing, the thought of wrapping my recently manicured hands around Brave Heart Lion’s neck and squeezing until his little plastic eyes pop off and his fluffy white brains come oozing out of his ears isn’t going to change anything. Dammit.
I’m just…I’m so…ugh right now.
My annoyance and current frustrations would be best expressed by the sounds of groans, screams and the splintering, cracking crunch that piece of plywood made as I kicked hole after hole into it. I don’t even have printable words for this shitstorm of malarkey, smh.
See, right now? I’m at a point where I want nothing more than to grab the boxcutter I keep under my pillow, the baseball bat I have stashed under my bed and the tubesock with a rock in it that I have hidden away in my drawer and go about rearranging someone’s facial landscape. But I won’t. I want to—you have no freakin’ clue how much I want to, but the fact remains that it won’t be happening. Not today at least. Maybe.
I may just have the Devil’s temper and one hell of a flair for violence and improvised weaponry, but at the same time, I still possess a bit of the good sense that the good Lord blessed me with. Besides that…
I’m too cute for jail.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
It’s that time of year again, folks.
The Salvation Army has the elderly hanging around your favorite Wal*Mart with their little bells just a ring-a-ling-lingalin’ as they freeze their geriatric butts off in the name of your spare change. Cheapskate boyfriends are planning to breakup with their girlfriends to avoid buying a Christmas present or just to kick it with a no morals ho-ho-ho. All around the country, children are writing letters to Santa Claus and praying the “Please, please, pleeaaassseeee let there be a snow day” prayer before falling asleep nightly as their parents look for better hiding places for the presents they maxed out their credit cards buying.
Yerp. The holidays are
about to anally rape us again. Where’s the peppermint stick lube? upon us again, so you know what that means.
horrible annual Christmas play at church! Snow! Racist, homophobic, ratchet ass Rudolph the Niggafied Reideer! Snow! Christmas carols!
…Did I forget to mention the snow?
This morning when I woke up—which, thankfully wasn’t as traumatic or painful as yesterday—I was told that Boogie had a snow day and that I would have to get out of my warm, comfortable bed to shovel the accursed snow. Which, by the way, was a lie. Yes, it snowed, but only a little bit. However, we do have to remember that I live in Michigan—we’re shaped like a frickin’ mitten, for Santa’s sake—and our bipolar weather is apt to change in the blink of an eye. Eh…
At any rate, Caramel Macchiato will be ready for her yearly showdown with that jive turkey, The White Devil soon. Now to find a decent pair of gloves.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
I’ve been meaning to update The (Infamous) Life for the longest, but, as I already stated, I’ve loafed in a most horrendously egregious and beyond major fashion. It’s just that I’ve been so busy tryin’ to be so many things to so many people that I kinda forgot to take some time out for lil ole (infamous) me. Which is more than understandable given the situation(s) that I’ve gotten myself into. Not that, y’know, I’m complaining or anything like that. Because I’m not.
…Walk wit’ me for a minute here.
Right now, I’m tryin’ to keep the all inclusive “it” together for myself and everyone else while everything around me is literally and figuratively falling apart. Not only that, but I’m trying to metaphorically light the path for a weary traveler, but the way is littered with obstacles, darkness is quickly closing in and I’m starting to wonder if my metaphoric light will be enough to bring them home.
This has all been added onto my existing duties—shoulder to cry on, plotter of ingenious, possibly illegal revenge schemes, etc—as la señora de (infamia), mind you. Sounds like super fun times are ensuing here in the Wonderful Realm of Ren, right?
Yeah…not so much, no.
I have faith—Lord knows I have faith—that everything is gonna work out. I do. Because I know that faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1) and that without faith it’s impossible to please God (11:6). And I’m also quite aware of the fact that faith without works is dead (James 2:17) so I’m workin’. I am. But it’s like…how do I walk and live by faith and not by sight (2 Corinthians 5:7) when all I see are the many impossibilities and improbabilities of the current situation(s)?
And yeah, okay. I’m sure that whole “good things happen to those who wait” thing applies, but what do you do when it feels like all you’re doing is waiting for that quote unquote “good” to happen?
Again: I’m not complaining and no, this isn’t a pity party so I’m not asking you to be my plus one see what I did right there? It’s just…even I have my doubts sometimes. Which sucks because it makes it seem like I’m doubting God and I’m not…right? I don’t think I am at any rate. Doesn’t feel like it. Not really.
But anyway, that’s just what I’ve been up to lately. The tip of the figurative iceberg that threatens to sink the SS (Infamy) if you will.
Kinda makes ya girl wonder if there are enough lifeboats onboard…
Figuratively of course.
Friday, September 17, 2010
I’ve been tryin’ to come up with something relevant, irreverent and sufficiently sarcastic to open this post with, but I’m drawing a ridiculously large blank as I jot these words down on my mini Top Flight legal pad.
Now, y’all should know me by now. I am the reigning Queen of Sarcasm, able to serve subtle if I so choose shade with the best of ‘em, yet here I am. Wielding my mechanical pencil as my scepter, I’ve tried to command the words to come forth and do my queenly bidding, but my subjects have proved to be disloyal as they continue to revolt. The only thing that I’ve managed to bring on is a royal headache.
So anyway, I’m sure that by now my handful of readers and lurkers I see you, Gemayel have noticed the appalling lack of posts here on The (Infamous) Life. As much as it would amuse me—and it would so amuse me—to hit y’all with a rather extravagant “See…what had happened was, um”
lie story there would’ve been a spelunking midget, a seventh son of a seventh son and a spelling bee, the truth of the matter is I’m far too lazy to do all that. So, you get the truth.
Exciting prospect, innit?
As of late, I’ve been…blocked. Not just where my writing is concerned although yeah, there’s that too, but it’s deeper than that.
Have you ever been involved in a situation or gone through something that left you struggling to figure out how to deal with its aftermath? Ever thought that you were completely over said situation when randomly and completely out of the blue, somethin’ hits you and makes you realize that you aren’t over it? That whatever it is that you’ve been doing is just your way of avoiding the issue?
That was me. Kind of.
There wasn’t just one specific thing that happened with me; there was a bunch of shit that was and still is going wrong, and my way of coping with the multitude of losses and the straight up fuckery was to not deal with it. Distract myself from my various situations and whatnot.
Me? I’d much rather invest my time and energy into something that I know won’t work instead of thinking about something that failed in the past so I can feel some sort of perverse pleasure in knowing that I was right. So, that’s what I did.
‘Ey. I never said it made sense.
That was then, though. I can’t keep this shit up anymore. I’m behind on several deadlines—self imposed and otherwise—and I have a sneaking suspicion that this whole avoidance thing has been fueling my rather annoying case of insomnia. Tis a rare occurrence for me to get to sleep before 0400 and I’m lucky if I get more than three hours of it at any given time. Yay, Ren.
It’s been great, finally updating my blog and all that, but I have to take advantage of this non-writer’s blocked moment and put in some Goode work, so now it’s time to say goodybye
Yeah, I took it there.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Ah yes, the age old, tiresome and rather annoying debate: why do men cheat?
I have my own thoughts on the subject and I could sit here at my laptop for hours on end, typing up a double spaced, 12 point Times New Roman font, thousand plus word essay that would either have you thinking I’m bitter, wise beyond my almost 21 years and/or crazy, but guess what? I don’t have the time for all that so we’re not gonna go there. Not now. Maybe one day though.
Peep the screen shots below.
We’re a mess lol.
Now, from my unfortunately considerable experience, men and women, I can’t leave y’all out even though I’ve never dealt with y’all on a romantic level and have no intention of doing so will cheat for any matter of reasons, but I’ve
drawn my own come to the conclusion that most do it because, like it or not and I honestly don’t have the patience to care if you like it, they can. There doesn’t have to be a deep psychological reason behind it, although that’s not to say that there won’t be one, but that’s it. People cheat because they can.
Doesn’t matter if you’re in a committed, loving relationship with someone or not, if you make up in your mind that you want to cheat? Then you’ll cheat.
Simple as that.
See what I said about people thinkin’ that I’m “bitter”? *sigh* Whateva.
Friday, July 2, 2010
You ever notice that when you’re not in the mood for, oh, let’s say…nonsense, drama and bullshxt, some inevitably finds you? And it doesn’t just find you, naw, hell naw. N. D. and BS will stalk you through yo’ respective hood, pay niggas to inform them of your every move and good mood, then one day, when you least expect it, they’ll roll up real slow like, right?
You’re standin’ outside on your porch, goin’ through your mail before turning to walk back inside when these muhfxckas roll up fast on two ten speeds BS is riding on D’s handlebars, grab you by the hair then figuratively fxck you up the ass. Raw. And with no lube.
Oh…so I’m the only one who’s ever been figuratively gang-raped in this bxtch then, huh?
Every last one of my weekend plans just fell through, this random and completely unwanted bout of sadness just came over me and I’ve got two separate assholes on my mind for very different, yet ironically the same reasons, so here’s what I have to say:
That’s it. Nothing more; nothing less, just fuck it all.
If you’ll excuse me, I have to try to go and salvage my weekend. So uh…yeah.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
“Shout out to the sound-booth!”
So I’m sittin’ here in service, listenin’ to the recent graduates thank God, their momma, their hood waddup, Detroit? Southside! and their first grade teacher’s next door neighbors’ dog Spot and everyone in between, right? Yeah…the word bored doesn’t come close to describing how I feel at this current moment in time. I’m so thoroughly uninterested in the goings on that I’m counting wigs and weaves in the congregation.
So far I’ve got six phony-ponies, four wigs and seven weaves, one of which has tracks peaking out and throwin’ up gang signs like “Eff yo’ set, Sewn In’s run this thang, nicca!”
Jesus be a hot comb and better quality weave. Skip the synthetic, go human, hun.
Aight, let me leave Sister Sew-n-Sew alone. I heard it was supposed to storm later on and I don’t need to do anything else to tempt God to toss a lightning bolt my way.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Why is there always that one person in church that claps loudly and off-beat?
Better question: Why was Bro. Heavy Hands sittin’ behind me doin’ the “Grindin’” beat on my eardrums with every round of applause during service earlier? If I wasn’t so concerned with the state of my Immortal Soul, I woulda turned around, smacked him upside the head with the New King James version of the Bible and hummed “Goin’ Up Yonder” while proceeding to do so with amazing grace as I beat him with a hymn book. But possibly unluckily for him, Judgment Day isn’t too far off and I’ll have more than enough to answer for.
Happy Fathers Day to all the real fathers, single mothers, aunts, uncles, grandma’s, next door neighbors, et cetera and ad nauseum that are holdin’ it down in the life of a child somewhere. You’re appreciated more than you know and in honor of today and all of you, I won’t delve into my pile of daddy issues. Nope, I’m gonna keep it movin’ with my Track of the Day and call it a post.
Today, my Pastor and newly appointed Bishop preached from Matthew, 7: 13-14
(13) Enter by the narrow gate; for broad is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and there are many who go in by it. (14) Because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way that leads to life, there are few who find it.
And he went on to talk about choosing the right (see: narrow) path in and during our spiritual lives. While he was explaining how and why the narrow path wasn’t going to be an easy one to take, an edited version of "The Narrow Path” , my favorite song from Blu and Exile’s Below the Heavens, was playing softly in my head.
Packin' up my bags
Hoppin' back on the narrow path that's planned for us
Tryin’ to tell my folks that flowin’ ain’t easy
Travelin’ down this yellow brick road until it frees me
I need a pen, I need a pad, I need a place to go
To get this shit lifted off of my soul
It's been a long goin', troublesome road and I'm still travelin'.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Jesus be an electric, razor wired, ten foot fence.
Why must you insist on beating the dead horse that is Homosexuality, Black Church? Why? Don’t you realize that all you’re doing is spreading seeds of intolerance? How can you say that you stand for and represent a God who stands for love when what you’re preaching from the pulpits in your various houses of worship is hate?
Yes, homosexuality may very well be a sin, but hasn’t it been said that our God hates the sin and not the sinner? Stop trying to use God to further your misguided missions in life and learn to embrace all of His people.
After all; that is the Christian thing to do, right?
Friday, June 11, 2010
If and when my arm falls off, I’ll be using it to beat some sense into these people for making me bowl another game.
But whateva. I’m gonna ignore them, my swollen and slightly throbbing fingers and the fact that my Sony just started playing Johnta Austin’s demo of “One Time for Love” and keep it pushin’.
I can see beneath that jaded cover, that you’re a girl who’s starved for lovin’, so to you I offer all my heart…
Ugh; dammit Johnta!
*changes the song*
”Electric Relaxation” by ATCQ; much better. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. Operation The (Infamous) One Will Have a Good Gotdang Weekend Despite the Fxckery, or “eff the dumb shxt” for short.
See, I refuse to let the nonsense stop me from enjoying myself. I don’t have the time or the patience necessary for all that. I’ll be too busy flirting with The Young One on ooVoo although Egg is still in possession of my laptop which might just ruin that plan smh and trying to decide if and when I want to head out to Kalamazoo or not. If any of the above falls through—and it might because I have some of the worst luck in the world—I thankfully have other plans. Might head back out to Detroit for a little while to kick it with a few members of my fam that I can actually stand to be around for longish periods of time or I might head out to Flint to do this thing. Who’s to say?
But uh…yeah. There’s this rather gorgeous guy walking in my general direction and the pimp in me would die a little death if I didn’t apply a quick coat of Mango Sorbetto lipgloss and go introduce myself.
So, I’m sittin’ here, tryin’ to figure out if I give a fanga in the middle and a soy sauce packet about the fact that XX and XY are currently givin’ me the stank face, right? Y’know, like I’m all afraid of them and shxt?
Welp. I just decided that I give neither a fanga in the middle, a soy sauce packet or a four day old egg roll as I throw them my patent pending “don’t forget I’ll be choosing your nursing home so act accordingly” side eye from my table.
I’ve got a headache that’s only being exacerbated by the fact that
1) Bowling alleys are generally loud and Royal Scot is proving to be no exception. Yay.
2) My freakin’ mp3 player has decided to play nothing but songs that remind me of He Who Must Not Be Named which makes me sad and in turn irritates the eff outta me. I hate being sad, dammit.
3) Erm…hello. I’m stuck with The Chromosonal Donors and The Sibling. I’d rather be somewhere enjoying a nice bowl of organic kitty litter.
Oh, how could I forget that
5) XY has recently taken to wearing his wedding ring and referring to XX as his wife…
*blows apple cinnamon flavored chunks*
Jesus be a
n electric fence all around his obviously addled state of mind every day. And that’s all I have to say on that.
As I’m so fond of telling anyone who’ll listen, I’ll be discussing my multitude of issues with a therapist one day soon. You’ll thank me for not elaborating further when you see my therapy bills; believe me.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Under normal circumstances; I wouldn’t hesitate to tell you just what’s got my boy-shorts in a comedic twist, but these? Yeah…normal circumstances these ain’t. Dwelling on any of the reckless, totally uncalled for bullshxt that’s currently occurring in the Wonderful Realm of Ren would probably piss me the effyouseekayoheffeff to the point that I go on a targeted choking spree. So instead, to avoid wrapping my in desperate need of a manicure hands around certain people’s necks, I’m gonna touch on just a few of the things that are annoying me and be out.
2) The dude who just rolled up on me callin’ himself tryin’ to holla just blinded me with his bright ass, “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” meets Tropicana Pure Premium low pulp, orange polo and my eyes have yet to adjust.
3) The number of people who feel the need to harp on my quote unquote “anger issues” is slowly yet ever so steadily rising. The day that people realize that the only effin’ issue I have in regards to my “anger” is with people who do dumb shxt that pisses me the effyouseekayoheffeff can’t come soon enough. For example
4) Egg doesn’t seem to realize that she’s acting just like Sperm did with El Jefe.
I don’t give a fanga in the middle about the fact that they’re “dating” each other again…I’m lyin’ like shxt.
She’s the one who told me that all men are dogs I know, I know. Bitter much? and then she goes and get’s with the main munfxcka that needs to be put down? After telling me that I “deserve so much better” than the guys that she thinks I’m involved with, she goes and gets back with that? Anyway…
XX insists on trying to force that “man” down my throat, barking commands like “speak” at me whenever he’s around, which is, as I already said, exactly what he used to do in regard to The Broad-Backed One. If I wish to acknowledge his presence, I’ll do so. After all, that’s what he did to me for the past fifteen years of my life. Turnabout is fair play and all that, right? Whatever.
Since I’m still on the subject of The Egg Donor and am moving swiftly away from the topic of “dear old dad” *side eye*…
5) Egg ganked my laptop earlier in the week while I was listening to WQXR and cleaning my room and has yet to return it even though I have more than met her terms and conditions. Once again; she’s reneged on the deal that she’s forced me into by trying to get me to do above and beyond that which I needed to do in order to have my frickin’ property returned to me. Ugh.
Sure, I get to talk to him on the phone all the time which is cool, but I kinda miss him mocking my movements on cam. It’s cute.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Damn, don’t everyone raise your hands at once!
I’ve been cleanin’ all gotdang weekend and it’s hot as grits on Al Green in the upstairs rooms of my house. I’ve got a ginormous see: Rihanna’s twelve point nine head headache brought on by The Chromosonal Donors innate sense of idiotic inanity. My mp3 player, in between annoyingly frequent spaz outs, has been playing songs that remind me of He Who Must Not Be Named. The very fact that HWMNBN is on my mind right now saddens and annoys me, as does the fact that I have my own personal Lord Voldermort out this bish.
Hmm; what else…
For reasons that are still unknown to me, I’ve been locked out of my main Twitter account and have been forced to use my backup. Twitter and their effing “support” team are making me jump through hoops to get my password changed and with every support ticket and request for a password change that I file, I get more and more aggravated. If they keep up the bullshxt, I’ll be forced to switch my social networking allegiance to FaceBook or even *gulp* MySpace. Didn’t take Kat Stacks this long to get her ish back. Within hours she was back to spreading venereal disease and hearing AIDS with her cackle on the Interwebnets and I can’t get a simple password change request answered?!
I just had a slight wardrobe malfunction and my creepy neighbor witnessed it. Ewww.
Oh yeah. I sorta kinda almost but really do miss The Young One too. Just a little bit…
lol, aight, my rant and the breeze that’s comin’ through my window made me feel just a tad bit better. I’m gonna turn the volume on my Sony all the way up to 30 and, despite my throbbing headache, plug in my Sharper Image headphones, go downstairs and find somethin’ to eat. So uh, yeah. Until I feel the need to rant and/or rave again, I’m out.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
you cannot play me; you will not win.
It is both impossible and improbable so I suggest you quit the utterly pointless, thoroughly unnecessary and all around tiring games. You’re far too old for this shit and I expected so much more from you. Hell, we both deserve more than what you’re currently givin’ and I can’t wait for the day that you finally get it together.
Not for me; oh no, I’m more concerned with you gettin’ it right for yourself.
But until that day comes, if you wanna play games? Fine; we can play. This isn’t checkers anymore, my King. You and I? We’re playing chess.
Don’t fuck around and lose your Queen.
Here we go, one more time…
Five Things I’ve Learned So Far This Week: Take Two
5) Teenagers are gonna be the death of me. They’re rude, offensive as all hell and I can’t be around them for long periods of time without wanting to take a power drill to the side of the dome. I’ll gladly acknowledge the fact that I have rude-ish tendencies more often than not but dammit, I’ve got nothin’ on these fxckers. Or is it they have nothing on me? Hmm…
4) I can almost paint the nails on my right hand—I’m a righty—as well as I can paint the ones on my left, but as I suck at painting my nails, take that as you may.
3) Karma-Karma-Karma-Karma-Karma Kameleon she comes and goes has all the makings of a power hungry dictator. She knows this and doesn’t seem to have a problem with it. In fact, I think she relishes this.
2) Even when it was wrong—especially when it was wrong—it was always right.
1) I was right I think and that knowledge neither fazes or pleases me. I’m not mad or anywhere close to being pissed off like I usually would be, nor am I sad. I’m strictly “eh” for the moment, gathering more information and staying neutral in the mean time.
“Listen to my story and you’ll know just who the bastard is.”
The time is currently 2:14 AM and surprise, sureffinprise: I’m wide the eff awake. Once again. Ugh.
I don’t have time for this ish, yet here I am, Beethoven’s String Quartet in C, Op. 29 is playing softly on WQXR, there’s a liter of Deja Blue to the right of me and and a pencil complete with fresh bite-marks in my hand, scratching quietly along the page. I should be in my bed, snuggled up with my ferocious beast of a stuffed lion E, yet again, here I am.
I haven’t been able to fall asleep at a decent hour for the past three weeks or so. It’s either because I didn’t get to sleep until 6:45 one morning after staying up and out with The Bestie and The Toy until 5:00, or it’s because of what I discovered the morning before that. Long story short:
Bitches and those who should know better kill me with the shit they do and the pointless lies they tell.
If you feel the need to lie about a situation, not once, not twice but multiple times? To someone who knows and accepts the real you, no matter what you do? You know what you’re doin’ is wrong.
…but I’m not goin’ there, not tonight. Let me throw up these tracks of the day and be out until next post.
First up is QuESt yes, again. He’s one of my favs, what can I say? with the P.ersonal assisted track
one of my favorite selections from WMRB?
Next is Personal with
from his upcoming “Sydney in Theory” EP
I’m lovin’ the alternative-hip hop feel of this track. He managed to fuse two of my favorite genres of music and create a more progressive sound with help from lyrics like
I’m more ‘bout myself, I am on my own shit…
pricked from the thorns of the grapevine
a rose that emerged from the concrete stone
a stick of dynamite, the thought that I’d be blown
they don’t even know the shit my mind be on…
Last, but most certainly not least is
Which is, if you hadn’t already guessed, QuESt’s take on
Jay Elechanukkah Jay Electronica’s instant classic “Exhibit C”.
QuESt goes in, delivering lyrical promises like
And I ain’t goin’ nowhere
Stick this game to save my heart
that’s why they call me John Q
over the Just Blaze crafted beat.
Listen closely, he’s got quotables for days.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
“I’m not absentminded; I just happen to be tardy.”
I’m doin’ somethin’ a little different this time around. Somethin’ that I actually see myself stickin’ with unlike a few of the other things I’ve done here in past posts.
The other day, I was acquainting myself with my new follower @Mo_Rease on Twitter when in between talkin’ smack about Caillou to my big sis I decided to check out his website link and came across his blog, Stumbling and Rumblings. One of the first entries that I came across was a “Five Things” post written by the hilarious @ameriQan.
Long story short, I like the idea of the five things posts and have decided to adopt it for use on The (Infamous) Life, so without further ado, let’s get into it.
Five Things I’ve Learned So Far This Week…
5) Lies hurt more than the truth ever could.
4) My main mp3 player is sexually deprived or something to that effect because damn. Out of the 1500 songs I currently have on my Sony Walkman fxck your iPod, nobody cares it’ll only play the ones relating to sex when I put it on shuffle past midnight. *rolls eyes*
3) I walk a very thin line between “just a tad bit annoyed” and “pissed the effyouseekayoheffeff” on a daily basis.
2) One of the guys that I used to talk to is going prematurely bald and the thought of his new “wifey” rubbing Rogaine into his scalp before making an appointment at the nearest Bosley Medical amuses me to no end.
1) You can try to run from your commitments, your past and your future. You may even try to run from those that love you the most, but no matter how hard and how fast your run? You’ll never be able to escape yourself.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
“Y’all can’t fade me; y’all need Ambi”
This is gonna sound hella random—even to my standards and y’all know how I do—but I have a question: am I the only one who’s ever wanted to light a match near someone who smells like they’ve bathed in their cologne/body spray/perfume/etc.? Ya know, just to see if they might catch on fire or spark or somethin’ to that effect?
Oh…you haven’t? I guess it’s just another one of those “No LauRen/Elle/Ren, it’s just you, sweetie” type things then, huh?
The person that was sitting behind me when I went to go see Iron Man 2 yesterday smelled like the inside of a knock-off perfume factory was lucky that I didn’t have my lighter on me. Would’ve left her as a mound of imitation Chanel no. 5 scented ashes. Fxckin’ wit’ my olfactory senses for two hours, bish…
I’m jokin’; sheesh. Lighten up.
But I digress.
Ya girl is currently chillin’ out, maxin’, relaxin’ all bored like on the couch, watching an episode of Criminal Minds and vibin’ to QuESt’s “Where’s My Rhymebook?” mixtape, takin’ a break from doing something mildly pathetic. Which I’m not going into at the moment, but, if you care—and I strongly doubt you do—the details will emerge over the course of the next six months so…yep.
I'm gonna keep this one short because I have other writing to do so, let’s get it.
I’m sure that Robert L. Johnson’s intentions were good to better than great when he founded Black Entertainment Television. Positive of that in fact. However, his dream has turned into a nightmare for the Black community. The stereotypes that are portrayed on the network are shameful at best and among the most degrading insults that we as a culture have to deal with. This network and its parent company
Antichrist and Illumanati, LLC Viacom delight in showing our people in both a stereotypical and negative light and honestly? The fact that there are people who delight in the coonish—oh yes, I did say coonish—antics and gimmicks that have become synonymous with all things BET irritates and, on a deeper level, saddens me.
See, I told you it would be short.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Smile; give me reason to keep believin’ that everything ain’t deceivin’…
This is a perfect day for music and reflection on any and everything from life to romance and relationships, past and present, so, I won’t sit here and try to blog you to death. I’ll post these rain-related tracks and be out.
First up is
“Go Ahead in the Rain”
from A Tribe Called Quest off of their People’s Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm album.
“Dancing in the Rain”
off of Blu and Exile’s Below the Heavens
Switching gears and heading in a more R&B direction I have the aptly named
by Carl Thomas
by Mary J. Blige and Ja Rule
It would be just like the “great” *side-eye* State of Michigan to go and get an old adage flipped, twisted and confused:
April showers bring May flowers.
This isn’t even your average, run of the mill type rain either. No ma’am, no girl. This is that make it look like 7 PM in the middle of the Fall at 10:30 AM on a Spring day rain. This is the kind of rain that will laugh at you and your little punk ass umbrella before destroying it then moving on to its next victim. This is that rain that you hope and pray doesn’t fall from the sky after you spent the money that was supposed to go toward your rent on a new hairdo type rain. The kind of rain that will team up with the leaky faucet in your place of residence to create a drip-drip-drop-drip-drop-drip cadence designed to make you go insane.This is the kind of rain that ruins all things nursery rhyme and old-timey song.
Think about it.
If it continues to rain like this? There will be no way to stroll through the park one day in the merry, merry month of May so you can forget being taken by surprise by a pair of eyes, roguish or otherwise. You’ll be too busy tryin’ to make sure that your umbrella doesn’t fall the eff apart, which sucks for you Billy Boy, Billy Boy. How will you find out if this young thing, who happens to be 3 x 6, 4 x 7, 28 +11 *side eye from the pits of a geriatric hell cuz this bish ain’t young at all* , knows what to do on a Bicycle meant for two?
Exactly. You won’t.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
You can call it Hell, but bruh, I just say I’m “Below the Heavens”
Surprise, surprise: I’m still in that “choke, cut, defenestrate, disembowel and otherwise maim you” mood that I was in earlier due to the chorus line of muhfxckas doin’ the Cupid Shuffle on the very last of my good nerves. While these fools insist on irritating me with their nonsense, drama and bullshxt and walkin’ it by themselves on my poor, frazzled nerves, I’m trying to remain that happy, calm, sweet individual that I know I have the potential to be. But guess what? Shxt ain’t workin’ for me so bump it.
Let’s get into this one, shall we?
Fifteen Things I Abhor, Dislike, Despise, Can’t Stand and Generally “Hate”
15) Public Transportation—More Specifically, The CATA and The People Who Ride It
The Capital Area Transportation Authority is the premier uh…authority when it comes to transporting Lansing’s residents all over the city. Which is all fine, dandy and peachy effin’ keen for those of us without a license and/or car like yours truly. However, the unclean masses I could do without. I’ve been spit on, damn near peed on and no, it wasn’t by a baby drooled on and harassed while tryin’ to get to wherever the heck I was going at one time or another.
I don’t know what it is, but there is something about the CATA that makes niggas act a gotdang reckless fool when it comes to approaching ladies such as myself. I’ve had dudes take my headphones out of my ears to try and spit their shamefully weak game at me and lawd, that’s not even half of the reckless ish I’ve had to deal with, but I’ve got fourteen more annoyances to list so…
14) Unnecessarily Loud People
If my volume is at 25 while blasting Onyx’s “Slam” through my Skull Candy’s and I can hear yo’ loud ass from way across the room, we’re gonna have a problem. There is absolutely no reason that I can think of for a human being to be that gotdang loud. None. At. All. This is unacceptable and every time I encounter an obnoxiously loud person in a quiet setting like the library, I entertain thoughts of silencing them with a a roundhouse kick to the jugular while making angry eyes at them from wherever it is I happen to be sitting.
13) People Who Try to Talk to Me When I’m Listening to Music or Have My Headphones In
I mean really. Headphones mean “don’t fxck with me”, why don’t people understand this and insist on attempting to carry on a conversation? The whole purpose of me spending $15 a pop on a pair of Skull Candy’s is so I don’t have to listen to the world at large.
Don’t interrupt me while I’m ignoring you, that’s rude.
12) Lansing, Michigan
Point blank: I hate it here. There’s less than nothing left for me here and the day I make my escape can’t come soon enough. Where am I going? No clue yet. My heart lives in Cali, but who knows? *shrugs sadly*
11) My Family
Y’all know I couldn’t write this without mentioning these fxckers I said it out of love, shut up at least once. Now, before you go about getting it flipped, twisted and three kinds of confused, let me explain. I love my family, I really do. Especially the members of said family that I don’t see on the reggy. My peeps from Arkansas, Detroit, the DMV and Chicago? Yeah, love ‘em to death. The immediate fam though? No, hell no.
I still love ‘em but I hate to be around them. No one can push your buttons like your fam can and mine are fond of jumping on mine with the things they do and say. You all think I’m evil? That’s nothin’. You should see the stock that I’m sprung from. You’ll be calling me St. Ren of the Light Skin after spending a day with Sperm and Egg.
Vevo is the worst thing to happen to YouTube since Chris Crocker. ‘Nuff said.
9) People Who Eat Loudly
What the effing eff man, really? Tell me, how do you eat cotton candy loudly and why do you insist on doing so?
8) People Who Don’t Shut Up
Ecclesiastes, chapter 3, verse 7b
“A time to keep silence and a time to speak”
Do yourself a favor and learn when these times are. Please and thank you.
Any television provider that doesn’t have MTV Jams or VH1 Soul is the devil, plus, we don’t get the CW even though we pay for it which means no Supernatural for me. Oh, and their “On Demand”? Deffy a lie. It doesn’t count if you have to wait for the program to download smh.
I miss Comcast =/
5) Most Females
Bxtches man…can’t stand ‘em.
Just last week, this girl hit me up with some bullshxt that I really didn’t need in my life and if she weren’t so far away, I’d find her and kick her ass. Bxtches need to know their roles and not act above their stations in life and relationships. Like one of my favorite creations E. Marie Juliet St. James says,
"You're not his leading lady; you're just an understudy. Know your role. Ho."
4) Guys Who Are Obsessed With My Bottom Lip
A week is not complete until and unless some guy, random or otherwise, makes some out of the way comment about molesting my bottom lip.
Look, I appreciate the fact that my face has one redeeming quality and the fact that you’re attracted to it, but when I get comments like
“I wanna suck on yo’ bottom lip”
“I want those lips wrapped around my dick”
on pictures like the one below?
Yeah. We have an issue on our hands that can only be resolved by me stabbing you in the arm with the first sharp object I can get my hands on.
2) Being Lied to Unnecessarily
I’ll admit that there have been times where I’ve been fooled in the past, but for the most part, I know when I’m being lied to and I hate the fact that certain people feel the need to do so. Out of all the people in the world, I’m the one that they can be completely honest with without fear of being judged and they know that, so I take the fact that they’re lying to me to mean that they’re lying to themselves as well. You don’t have to do that; there’s no need.
1) People Who Think I’m Stupid
I may not be the brightest crayon in the figurative box but I can assure you, I’m far from stupid. Just because you don’t see me acting in what you perceive to be an intelligent manner doesn’t mean that my intelligence is subpar to yours or anyone else’s.
I’ve come to learn that it’s not always about acting intelligently, it’s about finding a way to make your intelligence work in a way that will suit and benefit you best. So if that means acting “stupid” then so be it.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Fly’s what I encompass; peep my direction.
I have no clue when y’all will see this because of my effed up Internet connection btw, I hate you AT&T. Fxckers. but it’s 10:07 PM, Friday, May 7th. Take a guess as to where The (Infamous) One is. Go ahead, it’ll be fun. You may even get it right.
What’s that? You think I’m at a screening of Iron Man 2? Yeah…no.
I’m broke as hell, don’t have a ride even if I did have the money to go see it and I don’t feel like being bothered by any of my
jump-off’s bxtches ho’s guy friends at the moment. Nope, the blogger formerly and currently known as Elle Carter is sprawled smack dab in the middle of her—that is to say my—living room, the boy-bandy sounds of NSYNC blaring in my Sharper Image headphones.
Suffice it to say, I’m not in the mood for bullshxt. But of course you know that some has inevitably found yours truly which annoys the hell outta me and dammit, I’m cravin’ a drink. Which is bad. I don’t drink enough to feel like I need one because, y’know, it’s all illegal and shxt , but dammit if a Sparkling Limon-limeade or two. Fxck it, three doesn’t sound good right now.
Oh, by the way…
♥ Sunkist Sparkling Lemonade
♥ Bacardi Limon
♥ Lime juice
♥ Sugar for optional sugared rim
Add a double shot of Bacardi Limon to, a splash of lime juice and a twist of lemon to six (6) ounces of Sunkist Sparkling Lemonade. Stir. Garnish with a slice of lemon. Enjoy.
Ugh. Now I really want one.
The sun will come, this we know for sure…can you stand the rain?
It’s another one of those days y’all.
The rain falling on my roof is pitter-patterin’, drip-droppin’ and drivin’ me insane. Not only has said rain effed up my wireless signal but it’s also interfering with DirecTV’s satellite signal and Steel Magnolias was just getting good. Dammit.
Other than that and being too lazy to get up and dump the rain water that’s accumulated in the bucket in the middle of my living room, I’m coolin’, listenin’ to music. I finished a couple of boutonnieres and corsages for The Bestie’s Lil Bro’s prom a little while ago
peep it out
and they just picked ‘em up before they went to go do whatever it is that you do before prom, I didn’t go to either one of mine so eh.
I’m almost bored enough to explain why I didn’t attend either one of the ridiculously overpriced dances thrown for the junior and senior classes of my alma mater, but guess what? I don’t want to. Nobody wants to hear about my
sperm-donor with selective benefits daddy issues, my future therapist is gonna get an earful soon enough, but until then or until I get bored, pissed off or dunk enough to start blabbin; my secrets, I’m gonna throw up these tracks of the day and be the eff out.
First up is
“Can You Stand the Rain?”
by New Edition
And lastly is
“Do You Remember the Rain?”
by one of my favorite up and coming artists, QuESt off of his Distant Travels Into Soul Theory project which was one of the better releases of 2009.
Not only does the song go with the rain theme of this post, but I’ve been here before; I can relate.
Losing the one that you love—the one person that you would give it all up for if they asked, the one that you see yourself spending the rest of your life with—to someone else is one of—if not the most heartbreaking things that you can ever go through. You cry; ask yourself if it’s your fault that the relationship went wrong and how you can fix it and…
If you’ve never experienced this, count yourself lucky, but sit back and take a moment to listen to the sounds of heartbreak. Remember that pain and don’t you ever put another person through that if you can help it.
If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be hopping off of my improvised soapbox now, might even make a call to my duder Soap. Hmm…maybe not, might txt him though.
Friday, April 30, 2010
The Tiffanee Thomas Affair
Seems like I’m always and forever gettin’ myself involved in one fxcked up situation or another, doesn’t it? I need to work on that because really? This is not a good look for my life. While I love most things fxckery related, continuing to experience them first hand is going to be the end of my (infamous) life. While you may not care, I know that somewhere out there
beneath the pale moonlight someone would miss me, so I’m gonna try to keep interactions like the one I’m about to write about to a minimum. For their sake.
I’m still a little on the dazed and confused side as to how we even got into this situation, but a few days after I posted my last entry, I received a Direct Message on Twitter from some bish going by the screen-name @iWant_iGet. Which was odd. I’d never even received a RT or mention from this chick and there she was in my inbox. Initially, I wasn’t going to read her message and just brush it off as spam, but I peeped it anyway.
I knew that she was from the same area G’s from and had seen them talk to each other online before so I just assumed that they knew each other in real life so, I responded.
I thought that was gonna be the end of the conversation until she hit me wit’ this bullshxt.
Why does everyone always assume that I’m tryin’ to take this nigga away from his girlfriend?! Sheesh. May-May I told you I’m not gonna stop callin’ you that mister and I are strictly platonic friends. He loves his girl and while I’m not exactly sure what to call him right now, I love Q. He knows and respects that and has never tried to come at me on that level. Ever.
We continued to DM each other about the situation until she finally told me to txt him the next day before logging off for the night. The next day, I txt him for the first time since the incident occurred last Saturday telling him that a ‘friend’ of his said I should hit him up and the first thing he told me was, “Ms. Carter, you’re gonna get me in soooooo much trouble.”
Which I, of course, found to be mildly hilarious, but y’all know Ren. I’m a sick puppy like that.
He asked me which friend of his it was that told me I should hit him up. When I responded that it was neither of the people he had mentioned but instead one Ms. Tiffanee Thomas, he told me that he didn’t trust her and asked me to get on Skype.
Me: I deleted you from my contacts.
G.: You’re not even giving me a chance to explain the whole thing. When did you talk to Tiffanee?
Me: she hit me up late last night/early this morning
G.: Why? I don’t trust her, I didn’t say one thing to her about you. I secretly think it’s Jessica honestly
Me: that’s not what she told me and *shrugs*
G.: She’s dead ass lying, I never DM’d her, I barely even talked to her
Me: doesn’t bother me none
Fact: I was lying like shxt. By this point I knew we had been bamboozled and it pissed me off.
G eventually convinced me to hop on Skype and, long story short since I wanna throw up these screenshots and be done wit’ this bullshxt once and for all, were convinced that this Tiffanee Thomas trick was his girlfriend. We were, apparently although the jury is still out on that for me wrong about that and TT turns out to be someone his girl knows. Go ahead and throw your best side-eye, I’ve been doin’ the same thing. At about 9 o’clock that same night, Ms. Tiffanee Muddafxckin’ Thomas logged back on to Twitter and, well…
Peep what she said to @jmillz1984.
“I’m breaking niggas up lol….and I’m loving it”
Bish is crazy, point blank period.
Now, it’s not bad enough that she decided to go after G for whatever sick, twisted reason that she had, but then she said this
which effectively launched her sideways and ergo reckless at me, so, I had to respond.
Usually when I start throwing outdated insults like “guttersnipe” around, people get the point and back the eff back. However, this bxtch must’ve had an extremely high dose of “Fuck it” in her system because she kept tryin’ to go hard at me by calling me fat, ugly, a dike, etc. etc.
*stifles a yawn*
I’ve heard worse from better so I wasn’t concerned with what else she had to say as I continued my rant.
You know she went and continued her eThuggery, right? I wasn’t in the mood to continue on with the shenanigans so as I felt myself winding down, I said
Which should have been the end of that, but long after I blocked her, she kept tryin’ to go hard, to which I said
I still think that somethin’ in the milk ain’t clean about this situation and I have a feeling that it’s far from over smh.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
This ain’t ‘bout my ego; though I hate to lose…
The fact that I just lost who and what I thought to be a really good friend hurts. However; the reason behind our friendship ending pisses me off.
I hate it when
broads bxtches girls who probably won’t even be in the picture in six months make their man choose between them and a friend as I’m pretty positive this is what happened in my situation. It’s not fair, it’s not right and it makes you look really insecure ladies and that is not a good look for your life. If you think that your guy is cheating on you or that you can’t trust him and this friend of his whether it’s a girl or not, end it. Don’t put him in the position where he has to make a decision between one or the other because no matter which one he chooses, someone’s going to end up hurt and most likely pissed off in the end.
Fellas, don’t allow yourself to be put in a position where you have to chose between your girl and your strictly platonic friend(s) because believe me, she won’t stop there when it comes to making you choose between her and something else.
…I’m sorry y’all.
Even with the day or so that’s passed since this incident occurred, I’m still very much annoyed, sad and more than a little bit hurt that it came down to this. But, it is what it is G, as you said, “it was fun while it lasted”. You never should’ve had to make that choice, but you did so eh. I hope she was worth it and I since I still love you, I’m going to hold off on snidely adding ‘but I seriously doubt she is’.
Now back to your irregularly posted blogs.