For My Friend, Coco Part II (Kinda)

I have a new fascination for the southern rapper Lil' Keke. Black men are just so damn hot. Their skin....Ummmm, Black man's skin.

Don't you just love Black men's necks? Isn't that the sexiest thing ever?

*crickets*

Uh, yea, anyway, watch the video. Especially you, Coco.

Why is this turning into a damned message board for Coco LaRue? Y'all PLEASE post comments so I can have someone else to talk to. I swear this nigga has put roots on my ass to like him so much.

Just Because...

First of all, I'd like to thank Coco LaRue,*uncontrolable applause* because, thank you, I love him to, because without him, none of this would have been possible. This is for you.

Secondly, no, I don't know what this is all about, but any opportunity to look at this mutha rat lova will be JUMPED upon, ya heard?

Not What You Think, Well, It Kinda Is

You already know the kind of guys that seem to be attracted to me. Old, white collar, White men, and fucking felons. You already know what this story is about. I'm kinda telling the story backwards, but I just don't have the strength or energy to write about the love of my life, J.R. I'll probably write about that madness later tonight. Sigh. Okay, so here's the damn story.

Remember I said I made the decision to to not sleep with my love--er--J.R. anymore? What I should have said was, I will not sleep with him on a regular basis, or sleep with him when he wants to. It will be on my terms. And thus far, it has been. I promise you I keep thinking about Valentine's night. That was awesome. Absolutely beautiful. Sigh.

Okay, so I finally got fed up with the idiot. So I decided(tentatively anyway) that I would not sleep with him EVER again. And what's the best way to get over a man?

Sleep with another one of course!*

That's how I got over Kijoma(Don't ask. Well actually, you don't need to, he'll probably be a post at some point.)! I gave J.R. some!

*Since I lost my virginity at 20 years old, I'm technically not a whore.

So there's this guy named Corey. First of damn all, Corey's real name ain't Corey. He told me that was his damn name, and when we was supposed to hang out one night, I called his ass, and his damn mama answered, tambout some" Ain't no Corey, here, baby, I thanks you gots the wrong number, chile". Then this nigga calls me again, and I ask about his name, he gone sit up and say, "Nah, my name is Carl, some folks call me Cory, doe." Nigga, please give me yo real damn name. DAMN! I mean, J.R.'s real name ain't really J.R., but folks at least call his ass Jr. What's up with niggas not givin they "gummint" name? What type of foolishness is that? My head hurts. I should have known at that point that having sex with him was a bad idea. But I need to get over J.R., and the easiest way (look, I ain't ask fo yo damn advice), is to get some new dick.

So Carl appears to be nice(and we all know what a great character of judgement Negra is, right? I mean, I thought J.R. was a cute little college/church/quiet boy. My first thought when meetin him was "Why does this lil' boy have his nose pierced? Where is his mama?). I mean, he is. I can't say he isn't. Plus he likes me. It is what it is.

So the night before last, I decide to give him some. I go over his house, and he's tellin me how much he likes me. He's being all sweet, but as i said before, Negra's tryin to get down to business. So we begin.

First of all, dude is MANAREXIC. He weighs what I weigh. But whatever. Negra needs to get down to business. But here's the most disappointing part of this story.

His penis.

DAYUM.

I've seen Blunts thicker than that. I'm lookin, like "Bruh, who circumcised you?! You need to go get the rest of that shit back, son!" Oh wait! You're NOT circumcised? You mean you got EXTRA, and STILL you commin' up short?! As a Black woman, I must confess, I was almost OFFENDED that he came at me with such inferior phallus. I wanted some damn Vienna sausages so bad after that shit.

Anywho, Negra needed to get down to business. This had nothing to do with his love stick looking like Pixie Stix.

And whoever said "It ain't the size of your pencil, it's the way you write you name",was,

A MUTHAFUCKIN' LIAR.

That was the worst sex of my life. And I believe it had to do a lot with his ding-a-ling, being of yawn worthy proportions.

But, I wouldn't be Negra if I didn't go back.

That's right bitches. I went and got me some more wack cock.

Remember, this is strictly business. I'm trying to get rid of J.R.( how funny is it that I kept looking at my phone last night to see whether or not he called, in between breaks of getting some. Sigh).

So after we're done, he's holding me. Wow! This is really nice, J.R. never exactly kicked me after sex, but we certainly don't cuddle. I think I could get used to this. I mean I can get on top, and work it, if need be. I can get used to small fry.

I swear, y'all, I held his face in my hand, and thought, this man is beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. I mean, although the sex was terrible, I kept looking at how gorgeous and flawless, our perfectly bronzed bodies looked in the moonlight. We looked like one of those "Black Love" paintings you see at soul food restaurants. You know the one where the man with dreads is holding the woman with the Afro puff, and they're sitting in a lily with incense smoke in the background? Yeah. Just like that. It was lovely. Truly.

And I kid you not at the moment that I thought that he says this shit:

"Ay, ma, I was gone ask you somethin'."

Me thinking, aww shit. I done fucked up now: "Yes baby.What you need daddy?"

I was wonderin' if you could let me hold a lil' somethin' so I can pay off this lil' restoration( or whatever the hell that shit is called, I don't know, Negra) I mean, I ain't tryin' to go back to jail, knaemean?"

Me, glad the lights are off to hide the look of horror and amazement on my face, "Uh, how much you need, sweetness?"

Him: "I mean, what can you let me hold?"

Is this nigga SERIOUS?!

Me: "All I got is 50 (don't have a stroke I ain't give him shit, this is just lip service) baby, and I don't get paid until tomorrow."

Him: Wow, That ain't shit. I mean, that a get me my lil' sim card for my phone or whatever. That's cool I guess."

Yes, yes he was serious. Hot damn.

Yeah, Negra packed it up, and called it a damn night.


GAHDAMN.


What else can be said? Gahdamn. I know I buy J.R. stuff, but not only was he my boyfriend at one time, HE GOT A BIG ONE!

With his disappointment--er-- dick, he need be giving ME money!



UUUGGHHHH!!

La Negra Linda's "Men"

This post was inspired by Julia. She said in the comments section of the last post, that she thought she had some some stories regarding men. Uh, baby, homeboy with no foot, that outdoes me--oh wait, ole boy Marcus aint have but one hand. Okay yeah, scratch that.

Anyway, I've had some doozies in my day. I don't know why I'm even shocked at the shit these niggas say to me any damn more.

Yesterday, I met a guy. Fine? My sweet Jesus, YES!

He said; "Eh, ma, you drive right? (Why do niggas ask this shit? I'm 22 years old. Of course I drive. I live in L.A., of COUSRE I have a car!)

Me: Yeah, I drive, my car's over there.

Him: Oh, okay mami, I see you, doin' real big withcho car and what not. That's right. Go to school, with a job, and a car, aaiight!

Me: Looking puzzled, "Uh, yeah, okay, so you drive, I mean I don't live out here, and I don't come out here real often, so..."

Him: Yeah, mami, I drive. You fine den a muhfukka too, I mos def gotta come out here an' see you lil' lady. I mean I got a suspended licence, and a warrant, but you worf it, knaemean?

Me Laughing, "Are you serious!" I Should have known he wasn't joking. That truly was my damn bad
.
Him: Yeah, but if I'm in jail, I can't make no money, knaemean, and I'm out here on my grind, you feel me? Once I get my lil' change together or whatever, I'll go and turn myself in and do this lil' bullshit as week or whatever, then it's all good, knaemean?

Me, trying to redeem myself, not knowing what the hell to say, so I do my normal response to Black men when I don't know what the hell they're talking about: "Oh, okay then ,that's what's up!
"
Him: Well I ain't tryin' to take up yo time, I see you in a lil' rush or whateva, so just hit me up when you get a chance, ma."

Me, puzzled again, with another generic response to the tomfoolery that is this "uneducated, urban Black male": " Fa sho".

Here goes a list of the "boyfriends" I 've had in my day. They all had something wrong with they ass. Satrting with:

Ray. This mofo, was crazy. I was 17, in my first year of college and was a virgin. I then, like now, had NO idea just how weird, and crazy old dudes ( and hell young ones too) were. So yeah, Ray. He wanted to be an astronout, bit got testucular cancer ( I used to date men who were waaay too damn old for me), so he couldn't pass the physical exam, and had to settle to be this.

Yeah. A rocket scientist. Boo fuckin' hoo dude. You work at JPL, and make 350,000 a year.

Yeah, homie. Get over it.

So ole boy wanted me to be his girlfriend, but said no. I was 17, and he was like 44! He was soo possive! He was building this plane at an airport out in Pasadena and wanted me to go with him one day. I was scared of him, so I went. There's 17 year old girl logic for you. Your'e scared of a dude who doesn't know where you live, over the phone, so you GO with him, so he doesn't get mad. Nice. Anyway, I went with him, and my mom called me on my cell phone, and said she wanted me to come home, and he got MAD! I mean he started throwin' shit talkin bout, "Your'e damned near grown, you can't stay out?!" Yeah, he took me home and apologized, but damn. Needless to sy, we stopped fuckin' with Ray. Only to get another "winner" though.

Michael. I met this dude when I was 19, and he was very charming ( to a 19 year old vigin. If I met this muhfukka now, I'd slap his bitch ass into the apocolopse). He always talked bad about his ex-wife (again another red flag that the 19 year old Negra didn't know about), and was an alcholic. I didn't know it. I had NEVER in my life been around alchol(my parents don't drink), so I didn't know the smell. This is a true story. I kid you not, I wondered why his "red punch" smelled "funny".

Anyway, he drank so much, that he ended up loosing his job, and had to move in with his mama.

Yeah. That shit deserved it's on paragraph. Homeboy was 38. Oh, and did I mention he was white? Yeah, and he's from Paris, Tennesee. Tell me this story don't get better and better by the damn second.

So he moves in with his mama ( who I didn't know at the time was a FUCKING RACIST), and hasn't told her that I'm black. Wait, what? Uh, okay. So I telll him, he can't have my virginity untill he let's his old scallywag mammy, that I'se NEGRA!

So you know what he did?

Yep, you guessed it! He cheated on me! Yay!

Anyway, in a druken stuper, he confessed his love to 19 year old Negra, and says he will tel his mama. And he did. She called me a nigger (never to my face, but I would hear her in the background while we were on the phone. Oh as A tasty tid bit, her live in boyfriend is a Mexican dude named Charles). Bitch shoulda been callin her damn son a lush and pedafile but whatever.

So she decides she wanted a Bed and Breakfast out in Mississippi, and sells her house, and moves out there, and gives Michael's broke and unemployed ass ( I was in my 3rd year of college, and had a full time job, plus volunteered at a home for persons with cerebal palsy. Yes, I AM indeed that bitch), the first and last, on his old apartment and he moves in. So we go on about our business, and I spend the night frequently ( when I think of the agony I must have inflicted upon my poor father, I cringe. I'm sooo sorry, daddy), and everything is honkey dory (pun fully inteded).

One day, after work, I see that he' s called me 9 times in a row. He was sick. I took him to a freee clinic, since he didn't have insurance ( yeah, but my nigger ass did, ha!), and we find out he has pancrantitis. Anyway, I called his mother and told her that he wasn't doing good.

To make a long story even longer, dude was in a coma for a month. His mama cussed me out in the hospital ( the staff called the police on her several times, without me even having to request them to do so), and I must say, the 19 year old Negra handled herself, quite well. I'm not even sure the 22 year old Negra could handle that well.

Michael fully recovered, and while he was recooperating, I literally wshed his ass and spoon fed him.

It was the day before Christmas Eve, and while I was feeding his invillant ass, I said " I want to go to Christmas Eve dinner (mind you at this point he and I had been dating for a year)". He looked at me puzzled, adn replyed, " No. " I asked why not, and he replied, " I'm not going to make my family feel uncomfortable for you."

I took my clothes out his house without further word spoken and left. I told him I needed the money that was owed me, and he wrote me a check9 That's one thing crackas is good for. It didn't bounce). I was heartbroken. So much so, that I left the state. I went to U Maryland, and haven't spoken to him since. I' glad I didn't give him my virginity. I'm glad I gave it to a man far more deserving. Ha! The sarcasam in that statement makes me cream my panties. Here's the guy I gave my virginity to. Paul.

Yep. A muthafuckin basehead. But I didn't know dude was a basehead! True story y'all! He ain't look like one!

I met him at the bus station in Washington D.C. I got on one of those damn F busses (never again, never the fuck again). So he's the most georgous, white man you've ever seen in your life. Plus I seem to have a lil' fetish with men who aon't Black, but think they are (see J.R.).

I'll spare you the details on how I lost my virginity, just know he got it, because dude was sweeter than pet milk when I met him, and I though he was a genuienly nice guy.

So one day we're hangin' out at his house and he's acting really strangely. I was at his house for nearly 3 hours, and he ignored me the entire time. I mean, literally ignored me.

I go to ask him what's goin' on, and I see this chick in the other room with the "old Eve" hairstyle, and I deciede it's time to go. I'm on the phone with my sister while all of this is going on, because I needed something to do, considering, he wasn't talking to me, so we're laughing at the whole situation. I go back in the room to get my purse, and Guess. The. Fuck.What.

Paul comes into the room smoking rocks on a Sierra Mist can.

Sigh, unfortunaltey, that was not my last encouner with Paul. The last encounter with Paul came when he stole my necklace. That's a whole 'nother story that I won't even get into right now.

So, after, my HORRIBLE expierence on the East Coast( screw you east coasters, D.C. is East Coast to my Cali behind), and believe me, it wasn't jus the crackhead expierence that made the expierence ( how mant times can I say that damn word? Can you say THESAURAUS?!) an awful one, I went back home. Smog never smelled to damned good. Next dude, was named Aaron.

Ah, Arron. I won't make fun of him too bad, in fact, I won't make fun of him at all, beacause as I've said on numerous occasions, I ain't goin to hell behind makin fun of handicapped folks. Aaron is schizophrenic. He streesed me the hell out. As I was dating him, my schzropherenic grandmother was living with me (she moved out here after the hurricane in New Orleans, and was staying with me. I didn't know she ws schizophrenic. My father didn't give me any kind of "Hey, my mama is crazy as a June bed bug" disclaimer either.), and I got PREGNANT by this nigga. Bad time in my life. I thought MY ass was crazy. I was so glad to get rid of his ass, and when my granmama( I love the hell outta her crazy ass too, don't get me wrong), you have no idea.

And then there's the love of my life. J. Muthafuckin'R. Oh how I love that man.

That former pimp, gang bangin' ass, man. I'm not fuckin' with him anymore, but gahdamnit is it hard. It's never been so hard to shake a man! I don't need to tell any stories about him, cause he's the current looser I'm "invoved" with. He just chirped me now ( I have Nextel, not Boost, bitches), and called me baby, and I damned near orgasamed. Sigh. I hate havin' to act like i don't want nothin' to do with his low life ass. He knows I'm frontin.

This was a half assed post. I didn't even do a spell check on it. I got drained after talking about Michael. Sue me.

But now that you've been introduced to them, expect many more stories about them. I have PLENTY. Except about Michael. I proabably will never post about him again. But the crackhead? Wait till I tell y'all bout how he stole my necklace!

You had to have seen this one coming

Dag nabbit. I slept with J.R. But wait. It's not how you think. Seriously. I needed to have sex. I mean, you can't have sex regularly, and suddenly stop! I hadn't done it in SEVEN WEEKS!



Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, but as I stated before, he and I were in a "relationship", and were having sex pretty often. So I needed it. Also, I'm totally giving you guys the wrong impression of he and I'se(sp?) encounter last night.


That's more like it.

Yes, we did it on a couch. He does not have a bed in his room. His room is ghetto fab. The couch in his room (and in his living room) is a stolen couch from some hotel party thrown a few years back. How he and his friends managed to steal four fucking couches, is beyond me. But they did it. And oh, how my lower back pains me because of the compromising positions he had me in on that bad boy. Sheesh!

Anyway, GOOD GOD ALMIGHTY WAS THAT SOME GOOD LOVIN'! Lemme tell ya somethin. Puerto Rican men got it goin' on! Aye, chico! Me gusta mucho papi, mas, mas, mas!

I'm glad, I did it. I had sex with him, it was AMAZING, and now I can as Black Girl( shout out to Tanya, I don't know if you want folks knowin' your real name, but big ups to you, just 'cause, I dunno I like you) say, I reconciled with that shit(that shit being his winky woo) and now am ready to move the fuck on. Yeah right Negra, if you were ready to move on, you wouldn't have even accepted his phone calls, let alone let him stick his baby dispenser in you. That may be true. I knew last night when I went to get some, that that's all I wanted. I know he's slept with other girls since the last time he and I had been together, and I was okay with that. He ain't my man, and I don't want him to be. I needed a booty call, and he's the only one I know right now who would give me some. I'm sure there are countless other men of there who would tap, but I need to know them, establish a relationship with them, and then sleep with them. I don't have anyone right now that meets those requirements. I have one, but he lives about 2 hours away from me. Actually, after last night, I think the next time I put out, it will be to him, and not to J.R.

And here is a list of a few reasons that La Negra Linda has to let go entirely.

1) Last night he snorted Meth.

What more needs to be said about this? Yeah, exactly.

2) He told me (before I went to his house) that he was driving and hit a family of cats( a mother and two babies)

That's how you know my ass was in heat, because I am the biggest cat lover ever. Which is why I need to be getting as much ass as possible, because it's a known fact that cat lovers die alone, in their house with their 97 cats. He told me he saw limbs flying, and that it didn't bother him. In fact, he did this intentionally.

3) He got his father jumped.

So he's at the gas station, and some crips come up to him, and bang (ask him what gang he's from) on him while his father, 7 month old daughter, and daughter's mother are in the car. He tells them what gang he's from and they jump him. His father tries to help him, and he gets jumped right along with J.R. Nice.

4) Finally, he and his friend robbed a check cashing place earlier that day.

Apparently, he and one of his friends decided they need money. Rather than go to work like you and I would do ( we're suckers working for the man, don'tchaknow), he goes and gets "free money".

Now here's the "logic" (and I don't think the quotation marks give a fair picture of how loosely I use the word) behind his robbing the check cashing place.

He's out on bail( I know, I know), so if he got caught mid theft, he was going to jail. But, if he didn't have the money to pay his ail this month (which he said he had a feeling he wouldn't) he was going to jail anyway and he may as well try. That's just great. Just great.

He thought that I didn't believe him last night. I did. If there's one good thing that can be said about J.R., it's that the boy doesn't lie. Do any way, he showed me the $1000.00 he "came up on". He threw the 50's, and 20's at me and said "I don't be lyin' to you baby. I keeps it real. I'm a real nigga." The irony is that he's Puerto Rican. And no not a BLACK Puerto Rican. Just a regular ole' Puerto Damn Rican.

UPDATE: His little accomplice (well actually the main guy, although J.R. did hold the clerk in a head lock with a gun pointed at his head) got arrested today. Apparently, he tried to jack an old lady for her "chirp" phone. Yeah, I think I'ma leave that dick alone. No really, I am. He just reminded me last night just how much I need to leave that dick alone.

Stay tuned for the next "I done stopped fuckin with this nigga, for real this time!" post. Holler.

One Night Stand

You know, we've all had our share of "One night stands". And if you haven't, I'd appreciate your keeping that to yourself, so that I don't feel like a whore. Thanks.

I was talking to a girl I know, and she was telling me about a one night stand she had.

We were 19, and I remember her talking about this guy named Reggie, who played football. She wanted me to go to one of his games. Said he had a friend for me, or some shit. Whatever. I was a virgin, and further more, that nigga played for my rival school. Hell to the naw. It was so funny because we were talking about this and I realized who she'd slept with.

YES, BITCHES! MY FRIEND BONED REGGIE BUSH! I was so pissed. I should have gone to that damn game, LOL. I ain't trippin'. I had a celebrity one night stand too.

Shut up. I didn't even know who the hell he was. I don't listen to mainstream hip hop, let alone underground.

Apparently, his name is "Planet Asia". Whatever. His real name is Hassan, and the nigga's AN ASSHOLE, and the reason it was a one night stand is because I never wanted to see his ass ever again!

Okay, enough of this. I'm sooo not trying to be Supahead. Just reminiscent on the sex life I once had...

I'se Tired

Like kitty, I'm tired. I never thought I would say this, but I'm tired of "Ain't Shit Niggas".

No, this isn't a "I hate men" post. Good Jesus, nothing could be further from the truth. I just need to find someone who appreciates me, and what I do for him. From picking up the tab at dinner, because I know the ends are a bit short, to saying "Bless You" when he sneezes. I have yet to find that. Hell, I haven't even found that in a woman. Damn shame.

Then again, I'm only 22, so I don't need no damn man. I need to be focused on my studies, and gettin more ass than a donkey farm, that way it'll be out of my system by the tome I get married (to TRU Life).

This is a rant post. Probably not interesting to you, but I needed to write this,and I'm quite proud of myself. I'm proud that I'm putting my feelings first. I'm proud that I've made the decision to not get walked over again.

I'm not saying I'm not open to the possibility of love, because I've been burned, Lawd knows I ain't tryin' to be some single 44 year old tombout, "Niggas ain't shit. They'se all dawgs. I don't need nan one a y'all. I ain't finna flat back for NAN one a y'all, 'cause y'all ain't shit!". I know women like this. Not pretty. I'm just saying that the next time I get into a relationship on any level-- be it casual or monogamous, if I'm not getting out of it what I put into it, it's over.

A few days ago, I made the decision not to sleep with J.R.(the gangster) anymore. At first it was because I haven't seen him in over a month, and who knows where he or that phallus has been. But then I thought about something he always tells me / He always says, " You're so different from any girl I know. You ain't hood. You're smart. You really have your shit together. Your not like these hoodrats around here. I like that about you, ma."

If I sleep with him after the ways he's treated me, I will compromise my self respect, and make him a liar.