Sunday, March 28, 2010

Young, Black and Bitter: The Elle Carter Story

First things first:
Congrats Alissa and Dejon!! I’m so happy for you sis and I know that you and D will be amazing parents to Kali ♥
Allow me to explain the title before some poor unfortunate soul word to Ursula gets it flipped, twisted and generally confused. Yes, I am young, black and Puerto Rican as well. Bitter though? Nah, more like semi-sweet. Semi-sweetness aside though, that didn’t stop some loser from texting that to me the other day when they were thinkin’ about/denying the fact that they missed me. I thought it was hilarious, but then again, I’m a sick individual.
How goes it to those of y’all who stumble across the blog and read a bit before you continue your search for free porn? Y’all been good? Bueno.
It’s been a minute since I’ve posted anything of substance so I felt like it was time to break my self-imposed silence. Not that y’all care or whatever. Some Anonymous person—*waves* hey sweetie, how ya been?—told me that I should stop blogging because no one cares about what I have to say and a whole bunch of other things designed to “tear me down” and “break my blogging spirit” or some shxt. Long story short: it ain’t work; all it did was piss me the eff off. But it’s all good now, I’m not sweatin’ it. Don’t have the time.
I’ve been a very busy girl lately, which is the main reason I haven’t posted to The (Infamous) Life or any of my other blogs lately. I’ve been looking for a new job cuz this typing gig that I have ain’t cuttin’ it and the writing schedule that Miss Maria has me on is Bonkers yeah, totally nuts.
This job situation? Lawd. Could it get any more reckless?
A couple of weeks ago, I had an interview at this tuxedo shop up the street from Chez Ren, right? Yeah…needless to say that I nailed the interview. However, I didn’t get the job. It went to someone’s frickin’ Meemaw. When I found out I didn’t get the job, I of course asked why they decided to go with Geriatric Woman Number Three instead of me. I was told that it was because she had more experience.
A few things:
1) The hen—I can’t call her a chick as they’re young and she definitely ain’t—that got the job was in charge of guarding the first fire in ancient times. I’m sure that over the course of the many millennia that have passed since then she’s had many jobs which include but aren’t limited to: Pyramid builder, cross maker, Chupacabra wrangler, etc. etc
2) of course her—no disrespect—old ass has more experience than I do
3) Bleh and booooo on their decision. Not too sure how many guys are gonna rent tuxes from a chick hen who reminds them of their grandmother considering how much debauchery they plan on committing during prom night. And they do plan on committing reckless acts of debauchery on prom night. They’re boys. Come on now.
But whateva though, let me touch on my writing, throw on my tracks of the day and be out.
In addition to working on my final rewrite of Cam&&Essence and developing storylines for the THD’s, I’ve started a new project. This one is completely different from anything that I’ve ever written before and I just wanna do a “Goode job on it. I’ll talk about it in more detail next post, but until then, here’s a bit of tuneage to add to your digital media devices.
First up is “Life of the Responsible 1 by QuESt

off his How Thoughtful project.
His delivery over The Neptunes crafted “I Know” beat is crazy, the lyrics are on point like always, as is his lyrical dexterity. This is just one of the many tracks that makes me anxious for his next project, The Reason.

Next is “Woke Up in a Dream by Hassani Kwess

off D.R.E.A.M. The Mixtape.
If you personally know me, you know how much I love Kingdom Hearts. If you love Kingdom Hearts, you’re gonna love this track. Not only does Kwess paint you an auditory picture of a Heartless seeking the door to the Light and a Nobody this makes perfect sense to the KH nuts like myself, it’s aight if you ain’t hip, just get that way seeking the same Light, he seamlessly blends the first two KH games with his lyrics. Utada Hikaru’s haunting vocals makes this the perfect song to play whether you’re chillin’ by yourself, beating Guard Armor in Traverse Town’s third district in KH 1 or trying to beat Sephiroth in The Dark Depths in KH 2.
Yes, I’m a dork, I know.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

“And Don’t You Forget It”


Guess I should’ve written this before. Might’ve cut some of—if not all—the bullshxt that made me want to choke/cut/maim/defenestrate/disembowel/etc. a few muhfxckas. As they say, hindsight is 20/20. But I digress.
This is The (Infamous) Life of (The Notorious) Mz. Ren, The (infamous) Life for short and my blog for even shorter. Name(s) aside, the important thing here is that this is my shxt where I talk about whatever the eff I feel like which includes but is definitely not limited to:
♥ Me and my quote unquote (infamous) life
♥ your face if you annoy me
♥ random things that go through my head
♥ my abnormal friends and subnormal family
etc. etc.; yada, yada, ya; blah blah blah and ad nauseum.
Unless otherwise noted, the views expressed in this blog are mine and mine alone. You don’t have to like it—and you won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t. Trust. You do, however, have to respect it. If you feel as though you can’t comply, please, don’t say shxt. Just Alt + F4 off my shxt and don’t come back. It’s that simple. Recklessness and disrespect will not be tolerated. However, should you let your disrespectfully reckless ass figuratively show, here’s a couple of things that you need to know:
1) I have a great many weapons at my disposal should you choose to go to war with me. My attitude; extensive and rather colorful vocabulary; a short fuse and
2) your IP address
Remember that.
Not so idle threats and jokes aside, The (Infamous) Life is for entertainment purposes only, and, in case you didn’t know, it’s for my entertainment. But feel free to enjoy.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

“I Got the Keys to the Crib and Ain’t Nobody Home”

Well…that’s not exactly true. The parental is here, but she’s about to leave in an hour or so, leaving Boogie and myself to fend for ourselves in Chez Ren for the night. But I don’t count Boogie as a person. I consider her to be a vessel that a demon known as “14 Going on 27 and a Half” is using as a host. Y’know, kinda like Rihanna and that thing that’s air-quotes “conspicuously” “hidden” inside of her forehead.
I kid; I joke with you, sheesh! Y’all Rihanna stans better pack it the eff up and not come at me reckless. I have not the time nor the will to deal with you and your foolishness. I’m in one of those moods where I’ll cuss yo’ simple ass out and keep it pushin’.
Anyway, how goes it y’all? Did you figure out what song I got today’s title from? No? I didn’t expect you too, son was a one hit, no wonder. But that’s neither here nor there, how the heck have y’all been? Not that, y’know, any of y’all ever communicate with me via TweetBoard or leave me comments. It’s all good though. I don’t like none of y’all no way. Non-blog commenting ass…
Again, I joke. Y’all know I love y’all. Well, most of y’all anyway. Some of y’all I could and do do without. Speaking of love…I miss mine, which makes me sad which makes me annoyed and that in turn pisses me the fxck off. I’m a sad/annoyed/pissed off individual because as of 8:07 PM, March 1st, I haven’t spoken to Him since Valentines Day. Every time I try to reach Him, I get no answer. Over the past two weeks I’ve sent five or six txt messages and I broke my promise to myself to not call Him a little while ago.
This isn’t fair and I hate it. In case you weren’t aware—and you wouldn’t be unless I personally told you: six months.
That’s how long I went without talking to him, hearing his voice. Six months where I didn’t have a chance to say “I love you”, least of all “I love you too”. Six months of dreaming of all the things I still haven’t had the chance to say. Six months of me being unable to say His name.
I finally got a chance to…hell, I don’t know. I just know that I’m blessed to have whatever this is. I also know that I hate being in this sad/annoyed/pissed off state. It’s worse than being in Michigan. Let it marinate, you’ll get it in time. I hope. I don’t know about the mental capacity of some of y’all.
Ugh. Now I’m sittin’ here, pen(cil) to the pad, thinkin’ about what’s coming up on the tenth of this month, what it means to me and wishing it was Him every time my phone rings and UGH. I ain’t got time for this shxt. I’m about to throw the phone across the room because for one, fleetingly brief moment, I allowed myself to think it was Him calling. Ugh. Grr. Boo. Stupid Blockbuster calling about some stupid movie. Hmph.
…well, speak of the devil that resides in Ms. Fenty’s gargantuan cranium. This time it’s actually Quan. I shouldn’t pick up the phone, should let this bxtch ring through to voicemail.
I should, but I won’t.
*answers the phone*