Friday, April 30, 2010

I Got 99 Problems but This Bish Ain’t One

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.
You sneaky, sneaky cuntfaced slutpiece you. 
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.

by the suck for that shit Gemayel. Just thought that I'd let you know that. Carry on.
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.
image image
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
lights off lmao 
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

If Yo’ Girl Only Knew…Oh. Wait. She Does.

This ain’t ‘bout my ego; though I hate to lose

I’m gonna keep this one short. Peep the screen shot below, click to enlarge if need be.
By the way: If she leaves you alone long enough tfor you to browse the Internet by yourself and you decide to hit my blog, I just want you to know that I changed your name in my address book after you sent me these bullshit txt messages. Not that it matters, but I don't want you to go and get shxt twisted, flipped and generally confused. Hmm...I bet you she was standing right there to make sure you did it too, wasn't she? SMMFH

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’.
Oh. Wait….

Now back to your irregularly posted blogs.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

“You’re That Mistake That’s Waiting to Happen.”

Stacy’s mom may just have it goin’ on, but ya know what? Jimmy’s dad is really, really rad….Yeah, you’ll have to excuse me and the random reference to those faces from the milk carton The Fountains of Wayne, but it just randomly started playing in my head so eh, why not.
♪I know it might be bad but I’m in love with Nina’s dad♪
But I digress.
How goes it folks? It’s been forever and twelve point nine nine eight five four days since I’ve posted a blog and ya know what? I’m not even about to hit y’all with an excuse. I’ve just been lazy about updating The (Infamous) Life.
Bad Ren, bad.
*smacks hand*
But anyway, a few “announcements” then I’m out. And don’t worry, I’m ever so slightly hung over right now I have a slight headache so they’ll be short and those of you who actually read my blog won’t have to worry about your eyes saying, “Bxtch, we quit you for making us read this shxt.” Aren’t you excited?
First, my laptop is finally fixed! My poor, sweet, little piece of crap Dell was out of commission for two months but now it’s back in working order, so I can type up the blogs that I’ve written but never posted and update “Goode Lovin’ like I’ve been meaning to for a few weeks now. Other ish got in the way though so eh.
Secondly, there’s a possibility that some rather interesting ish is about to happen here on this rather neglected blog of mine. However, the details on all that are still sketchy at best so I’ll keep mum don’t you just love British sayings? until I’m more than a little positive that the plans that I’m currently putting in motion are actually going to happen.
I think there was something else I wanted to say, but my brain is a lil fuzzy right now, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go and refill my Coke, hop in The Bestie’s car and head back home to face The Egg Donor.
Tia somehow conned me into babysitting her bad ass little cousin with her and her super tall little sister last night and T.E.G. asked if I would be out all night or not when we left my house. I told her that I would be back home, but when we got done watchin’ him, we—meaning Tia—decided that we didn’t wanna go home just yet and, long story short because I really wanna get another Coke and get the fxck outta McDonald’s, we ended up kickin’ it and spendin’ the night wit’ Tia’s friend Rika.
Oh, and my nigga J. Cuervo too.
I’m gone.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

The Problem With Here is it’s Where You Are(n’t)

It’s just one of those days; feel free to take it personal(ly).
It’s raining, and it’s not that sexy, “lets dance in and/or make out in then cake in front of a fireplace” rain either. Oh no. This? This is that basement floodin’, make your roof leak then drive you crazy with the pitter patter of of water droplets hittin’ the bucket kind of rain. The kind of rain that I loathe, detest and generally despise. Awesome weather we’re havin’ here in Michigan, huh?
Along with the sound of the rain against my window pane slowly driving me insane drip-drip-droppin’ into the bucket in my living room, I’m not exactly in the best of moods. Shocking isn’t it? My little sister is gonna make me choke the eff outta her and I can’t wait til she goes back to school cuz this spring break thing ain’t gettin’ it.
I have cramps like a muhfxcka and since I know that there are guys that randomly hit The (Infamous) Life from time to time, allow me to illustrate for you and them what my body does to me every twenty-eight days or so.
My reproductive organs are beating the fxck outta me. It feels like someone is playing double dutch with my fallopian tubes while my uterus is doing the A-Town Stomp, Cupid Shuffle, Chicken Head, Wu-Tang and Stanky Leg. In high heels. That also happen to be cleats.
That’s right. There’s something roughly the size of a pear doing the A-Town-Cupid-Chicken-Tang-Leg inside of me right now in high heeled cleats, so before another one of you boys tries to talk to me about pain, here’s what I want you to do. Gather up three of your best soccer playing mates, put ‘em in cleats then have ‘em do the Soulja Boy on your junk. After that, have one one ‘em heel toe on it for good measure then rub a paste that’s three parts salt and equal parts lemon juice and bleach into the gaping hole that was once your manhood.
Not that it’s gonna come close to to you understanding my pain or whatever, it’s just a lot nicer than what I’d do to you for coming reckless at me. Plus, I think it’d be funny, but then again, I’m a sick puppy.
Anyway, I’m off in search of some Midol, a Hershey’s Special Dark chocolate bar and a heating pad to ease my pain so…I’m out.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Gee Aye Gee Me With a Eff Oh Are Kay

I’m going to find and destroy Lil Mama’s Bedazzler if it’s the last thing I do; I’m tired of being visually raped by rhinestones and plastic jewels every time I watch ABDC. Don’t make no damn sense; her ass should’ve grown out of that “Ooh, sparkly!!” phase by now gotdangit.


I’m bored and not feeling too well at the moment. I know I should be rewriting the two pages of “Goode Lovin’” that I accidently spilled tea on earlier, but I can’t motivate myself to to do it. I’m too lazy to even blame myself right now so I’ll instead hold Lil Mama and the Bedazzled, pastel pink monstrosity that she’s wearing responsible. Yeah, I know it’s a cop out but…so? If you’ve seen this season’s illusion episode, you’ll understand why I can’t turn my mind or my mechanical pencil back to rewriting the naming ceremony. Bxtch is wearing a phony gemstone encrusted bib thing over what appears to be a Pepto Bismol soaked Snuggie. Shxt’s distracting as all hell and not in a good way.


My head is killing me and even after a cup of mouthwash and three sticks of gum, I can’t shake that disgusting throw up taste that’s loitering in my mouth. Stupid Whiskey River BBQ burger from stupid Red Robin last night, made me miss Easter service this morning. True, I previously said that I wasn’t going to be attending since The Parental and The Sibling left me home alone this weekend and might’ve had a slight hangover to work off, but since I didn’t go anywhere last night, I changed my mind. I was getting ready to go earlier when blam!, I hit a fantastic Linda Blair impersonation. Ugh and eww.

Other than trying to rid the taste of puke from my mouth and attempting to figure out what goes through Lil Mama’s head when she picks out her clothes you know she ain’t got no stylist, I’m annoyed. As in majorly irked. The current source of my frustration is being an assfacebuttwad for no gotdang reason and in between random chunk blowing, I’ve been entertaining the thought of suffocating them with a marshmallow Peep all day.

See, I told them that what had happened wasn’t even that serious, but no, they wanna go and be all unnecessarily difficult and ergo stupid just because they can be.

Just like a frickin’ boy.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Markus is the Type That Gives “Goode Lovin’”

“Reality” dating shows. We know ‘em, love ‘em and love to hate ‘em.
Whenever some vapid and shallow pseudo celebrity—waddup Ray J?—is given one of these shows, we gripe; complain about how it will inevitably show our race and/or gender in a bad light and set our various recording devices to record the entire season. We don’t do it to watch our favorite asinine and trifling “celebrities”—what’s good Real and Chance?—look for love, lust or multiple sexual partners. Oh no sir and/or madam. We, and don’t try to act like you’re exempt from this because you aren’t, watch it for the Grade A, one of a kind fxckery that’s sure to occur.
Think about it. You get a handful of tramps, skeezers and flat out ho’s women vying for the affection of one man and jockeying for free publicity to expand their various horizons and realize their career aspirations. This is trainwrecky entertainment at it’s best and worst. I’m sure that somewhere out there, in a room lit only by the glow of VH1 on their television screen, someone is taking a shot every time a contestant on one of these shows exclaims “I’m a model” or “I’m here for him” and if they aren’t? Someone should be doing just that. Fxckery of epic proportions such as the ones displayed on these programs deserves a drinking game or three.
It’s only right.
Now, if you know me like the majority of y’all *cough* think you know me, you’re well aware of the fact that I thrive on fxckery and all fxckery related things which does, yes indeed, include “reality” dating shows. Again, if you know me like you think you know me, you also know how much I love to write. It should really come as no shock to you that the last time the clichéd light-bulb of creativity clicked on inside my head, I came up with an idea for a—wait for it—reality dating show.
”Goode Lovin’” sounds like it could be an awesomely bad VH1 show, doesn’t it? I’m still working out the concepts and am currently having a field day trying to format this side project of mine, but here go the basics.
The show revolves around Markus Goode and his “quest for love” thanks to his best friend, the shows executive producer. However, the story revolves around AJ Riley, the heroine if you will, and sheds light on what happened when the cameras weren’t rolling. The readers will get the chance to see what the girls are really like and will tell exactly what happened between AJ and Mark. 
As I said, I’m still putting it all together, but click here to get a lil bit of “Goode Lovin’”