Writing My Wrongs

Who the hell has pink high heeled ballerina shoes anymore? Pastel pink at that! I am trying to go through all my shoes and throw out what I don't need to bring with me to the new spot... and lo and behold I ran across these...
First off...they are the wackness.
Second...they may not look like it but they are hella high...hella high...I couldn't even walk across my floor without wobbling.
Third...I can't even think of the outfit....oh shit, yea I can...I can think of the exact outfit I wore these with. And I must say...I was lookin' HOT as a muthafucka....being the sexy muthafucka that I am (Prince told me, he even sang me a song that said so)...Either way, I threw these out with some more wackness... shoes that I had no business holding onto.

I came back 15 minutes later and took these pink prissy mugs out the SalvationArmy drop bag....Never know what I could use these for later on down the road...late one night and whatnot.

Another thing...
Since I am leaving …moving states away…I have been walking around butt booty naked with curtains open wide and windows open…fuck it.
If I had a webcam I’d probably pretend I was a part-time porn star and make this shit work to my advantage………$$$$
INSTEAD OF…Walking naked because it’s hot as Hades up in this muthafucka.

Lastly, yea...I'mma miss you too. The last time we hung out... you came back and got me...you always got me...thru thick and thin...you've had my back.
Who is gonna save me...from me? Who I tell you?!! No one! See, I cain 't even be wild like that when I move.
You and I have been thru some things...some drama...some laughs and some other gushy stuff. Like you always say, we are the same person...and if they knew us like we know us, they'd understand that shit ain't always good...lol
Tonight is my last night in New York City... promise, no bruises or marks...lol

And last lastly... this is me walking away from Harlem, from New York...
I hear you New York...tellin' me...
"Don't let the door hit ya, where the good lord split ya!"
I swear New York is a muthafucka!
That's alright...New York gonna miss me when I ain't there to wine and dine...talk sweet and make love...manipulate and expose...and envelop myself in all that is Gotham...

B~E~Z

There are very few things that get me excited… ok that’s a bold face lie but I use it for affect…get it already!! Damn!

SamAdamsSummerAle…I know I spoke about it all last summer…but…its summer again mon bien-aimé! So Summer Ale AGAIN…I love me some SummerAle more than I love me some blue Chimay.

The other day while I was hanging and waiting for my zpcar at DC’s Union Station…I decided to sit up at Uno’s bar and take in a tall glass of SummerAle…with their macho nachos…which of course if I didn’t have long hair and some big ol’ titties would probably throw off most that saw a person sitting at the bar at 11 in the morning watching sports center, eating nachos and drinking a tall beer… but I am all soft and shit…so there is no mistaken that this fine hunka lovin’ was just enjoying me some beer and chips, nahmean!
*By the way…stop the bitching and don’t go reporting me to zpcar…and drinking a tall glass of beer…fuckin’ snitches on the internet*

So back to what makes me smile…beer!
Beer and a microwave that pops popcorn PerFectly! All kernels popped…no burnt taste…all fluffy and perfect.
So we’ve established …beer and a great popcorn popping microwave…
Next…
Well…I have deviated from the original plan…the plan was to give up MADNESS (read:porn)…
But…well…that’s really like trying to teach a toddler to potty train… diaper is there, then it’s not, and u want the toddler to conform to sit on some foreign object and poo poo in it….every now and then undies aren’t gonna make it off…it’s gonna get shitted in every now and then.
Same train of thought…Internet is there…every now and then pornhub is gonna pop up! And I may or may not touch parts of my body…or drool over dick and titties…and my fascination for anal…never mind, you get my drift.
No? That’s not the same thing?
Well…ok but either way…porn is actually very normal…and maybe if we gave it another name…most (wo)men wouldn’t think it was blasphemous. Maybe if we named it something close to Prada…more like Pra….Aaaaa….Aaaaaa….Daaaaaaaa *sigh*
Either way…sex is what we do and who we are and what we like and it feels good…and it’s the most honest form of happiness and bliss.
I support porn like I support Obama!! I bet Michelle does too…’cause she doesn’t look in anyway like she’s a dead fish…she looks like she could be a handful for BO…all sloppy and fun sliding off the bed and shit…more power to her!

Next…(beer, microwave that perfectly pops popcorn, porn and)…
Cherry chapstick.
Now don’t get me wrong…I use the MAClipliners…and every now and then…I wear gloss to make my lips look wet…but then that brings thoughts of porn…
But on an every day basis…cherry chapstick is a staple…just like my cell, my keys, my wallet, my camera, my eyeliner, and a small note pad and pen…
*Yea, I know...my list got longer as I was thinking.*

But this evening…another fav came to the surface…football.
I watched the pre-seas game…Redskins and the Colts…

But for now…that is my small list of what makes Bloopty a happy camper… in no particular order…

Ooh lord, I smell something horrible.
Shudditup!!

I have been packing and shit…going thru things and realizing that….when it comes to paper…I am a pack rat.
See ever since I can remember (8 years ago) I have been writing…so I have tons of pieces of paper that have random notes…or a few lines written on them. I also have pads and pads of papers that I have written short stories on… and all this paper… required TWO cardboard boxes.

Another thing I realized…I have a gajillion VHS tapes. What should I do with those? I have a professional chess board with a timer and everything. I have a guitar that has never been used, a Wii game that’s been played with 4 times, books…and books…and books, and last…a porn library that I am sure is worthless to me now that I have looked at all of the sex scenes (sometimes I let the madness just play on tv and I’ll put the tv on mute as I clean house or read a book... just in case I wanna see some ass and dick when I glance up) I have wall appliqués I haven’t put up even though I have had them taped to my wall for a year.
And then there are the shoes…
*huge pathetic sigh*
Shoes that have no outfits to match, shoes that I haven’t worn in at least two years, office shoes to ho shoes…I have it all. Wait…I don’t have any clear 6 inch heels…budda, that just reminded me I should pick a pair of those up…you know…for show and what not.
I even have ONE shoe that I have been holding on to…in hopes that I find the other…I’ve held onto it for 2 years now. I guess it’s safe to throw it away…but damn…those shoes right there…men loved those shoes and …so did I.
Flipflops…I have 20 pair of flipflops…tell me this…who the hell has that many flipflops? OldNavy maybe? Hmmm. Craziness I tell you. Now I see where my money goes and …I need to start a Stop Shoe Shopping Support Group.

So I stink…and I smell myself stinkin’.
Now, the Little Jamaican is coming over to take me to get some boxes…I was thinking since he is bringing me right back home…no need to shower since I’mma be stinking again while packing some more…
Budda…as much as he and I bullshit and secretly love/hate eachother…I can’t do that brotha like that… smell all up in his shit…
LOL…but it would be funny…after all, he’s always sitting on the toilet when he calls me…equals out the same…if I can listen to him gruntin’ as he pushes one out…I can smell up the car!
I’ll take the shower dammit!

To top off my packing experience thus far…I got the chain of my diamond necklace caught on the stupid shelf thing that ladders have on the back of them…it broke my chain…yes IT did and not me!
As of yet, I have not broke any nails though. So, I am not as pissed as I could be…but I am slowly getting there dammit.

Packing sucks!

*I tell you though... I am going to miss these raining Saturday mornings up in Harlem something fierce. Even now, while listening to Sarah Vaughn If I Had You…I am getting all misty eyed at the prospect that my days in Harlem are numbered and days like today…will be memories of the past, rather than expectations of the future.*