Ranting and Raving

Only read this post if you have the time. PLEASE.

BLACK MEN

Please click this link and watch this ENTIRE video.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XJbDvAMORr8
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What the hell happened to our men?

My ex's (don't ack like y'all 'ont know who I'm talkin' bout, JR's trifflin/sexy ass) MAMA was in this video. This shit is hot out here in L.A.

Now, not everybody out here is a gangster obviously, but there are a LOT of them out here. And even more who WANNA be gangsters. What the hell? And if you're not a gangster, or you don't want to be one, you wanna be one of these.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y7iZvvcNBTE

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When did Black people stop reading? 'Cause I'm pretty sure this nigga ain't picked up nan book.

I'm so fucking sick of my young, Black men acting out like this. Everything is about being a pimp or a gangster. Everything that's attractive, entertaining, or nice is either "gangsta" or "pimp".

I once asked a guy I liked what he did for a living or if he went to school, and his response was, "Why you askin' me all lat? I mean who all up in my business. It ain't like we gone get married or nuthin'!"

What?! Damn nigga, why you just can't say you ain't got no damn job?!

But for those them do "tell" you what they do for a living, here's what they often say (I've comprised a list for you):

1."I'm a money maka."
2."I'm a go getta(damn you Jezzy)."
3. "I make it do what it do."
4."I be on nuh 'grind'. "
5."I'm make music."
6. "I just do me."
How is 'doin' you and gadamn occupation?
and my very favourite, please note, this response can be given to either question 'What do you do for a living, or, 'How was your day?'
7. "Well, I can't really be sayin' all lat on da phone, knaemean?"

Good Jesus.

I'm so mad a Black men right now it's sickening.

WHITE MEN

Why when I was at the copier yesterday, did this white man call me Kim, and when I turned around, he said" Oh, I'm sorry, wrong person".

HOLD UP. PAUSE!

Lemme tell y'all about what "Kim" looks like:

*4"11
*100lbs
*mocha frapaccino colored skin
*short natural hair
*size 14 A bra
*only wears slacks
*wears business suits everyday, she she is in HR

Now, lemme tell y'all what La Negra Linda looks like:
*5"4(5"8 in heels, which I wear EVERYDAY)
*125lbs
*milk chocolate skin
*long basket weave
*wears skirts everyday
*dresses very casually

1.How the fuck could you get us confused? If Kim wore the shoes I wear, she wouldn't be my height.2. Did the muthafucka think she grew 14 inches of hair since the last time he saw her?

Oh did I fail to mention he had just left a meeting with this hoe FIVE FUCKING MINUTES before he saw me?! I saw they asses in the conference room!

I had on a BROWN PLAID SKIRT!

She had on a BLACK SUIT!

WHAT IN THE MUSTY COITUS HELL?

Sorry y'all. I just had to get this shit outta my system. I'll be back tomorrow with a few funny posts. I'm off to pick Carl up from work?

Huh? Who's Carl? Oh. Yeah, remember lil' dick? Yeah, that's him. He thinks I'm his woman now. Meh.

Turns out his penis isn't so little. It's just when you have sex with a mule,(JR) and then go back to humans,, it just seems smaller.

I'll be back tomorrow y'all.

Holler.

I Finally Did It, Y'all

I'm so sure you guys think I'm full of crap now, but I've finally gotten over J.R.

Last night this boy had the audacity to scream at me because I wouldn't pay his phone bill.Remember when I told y'all I had bought him some stuff a while back? Yeah, here's what I got him:

4 Pro Club Shirts
1 Pair of Dickies
1 Pack of Boxers
2 Pairs of Corduroy House Shoes (Red and Black)
2 Pairs of "Chucks" (Converse All Stars)
1 Pair of "Fat Laces" for the All Stars

This was all in one day by the way. I gave him "just because" gifts. I think I spent about $170 on everything.

And I bought this for him, because he wanted a pair of Jordan's that I would not purchase because they were replicas rather than the real thing.

And you know what he asked me? He asked me where's Jordan's were, after I brought him all that shit. Along with his fav beer, Clamato juice, and a lemon.

So you know what I did? I gave him a $100 bill.

And he STILL bitched.

That's why I slept with Carl. To get over him.

The next day he calls me bitching about the shoes again. With the money he bought some other Jordan's and some diapers for his daughter.

And he STILL bitched.

I was REAL done at that point.

So last night I tell him with the $100 he should have paid his phone bill and he says I should have gotten him the shoes, so he could have kept the money.

There's logic for you, huh?

So he's bitching at me (but remember I'm over it, so it doesn't even faze me at this point) and I politely tell him to try calling me back when he was able to talk to me like a human being.

And he still bitched.

I just put the phone down and stop listening(he was talking to me via walkie talkie).

He said he needed the mins on his phone, because he was applying for jobs, and needed the phone. Okay. So I put $20 on his phone. I'm NOT paying additional money for him to talk to his hoes, plot illegal shenanigans, or bitch at me.

He tells me today he's going to buy those shoes with my credit card #. I say no.

He BITCHED.

I hung up.

I canceled my card.

I'm done.

I'm Stealing from Coco!

You're Pizzazz! You always want to be the center of attention, and things must go your way or else! You've got a good sense of humor but you sometimes have a temper. Seems like you may be a little spoiled huh? Well don't worry, your friends still accept you for who you are.

We are the Misfits, or songs are better, we are the misfits, we're gonna getcha! Yeah! Tee Hee!

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.

Smile, No Matter What

"He is a wise man who does not grieve for the things which he has not, but rejoices for those which he has." ~ Epictetus ~

My self esteem is low.I'm not ugly, I know I'm not. I've been told by many, that I'm beautiful, and really could have a date every night of the week should I choose to. In fact, I've been guilty on many occasions of having so many dates in one night/week, that I won't go anywhere with any of them, because I'm so overwhelmed. And after all that, you know what happens? They still call my ass after they've been stood up, because I'm that chick lol.

But, my self esteem is mad low, son. That's the main reason I don't go on dates. It's not that I'm ugly, I'm not. I've got an incredible body. Small waist, no hips, bubble butt, I'm a 34D; for lack of a better term La Negra Linda is a Brick House. I'm mighty mighty. lol

I was called ugly throughout school. From Elementary to High. I hated school. In fact, they are the reason I kept my grades up, because I was going to be better than all of them. And if success is measured by additional schooling, not having children, and having a decent job (it's not, so don't get all uppity), then I've surpassed all those malicious children. It's so funny too, because all those guys who dissed me back in the day, are steady tryin' to holla now! HA! I see you son! And I hear you hummin, but I ain't comin'! Not literately or figuratively speaking!

Again, my self esteem is low. My biggest (and probably only) insecurity? My teeth. I think they are HORRIBLE. In my opinion, my parents failed me miserably when they did not get me braces. I am sooo insecure about these bad boys, it's ridiculous. I know I'm a pretty girl, but still, I've never been able to understand just why any man would wanna talk to a girl with a pulchritudinous (for all y'all that was too lazy to look it up, it means attractive) face, and the mouth of a wilder beast (all y'all that laughed, just know you're going to hell on full scholarship).

I went on a date last night! Are y'all proud of me? I went on a date, and it wasn't with Thugie-Poo, the guy I talked about in my last post! I went on a date with a sweet, sweet guy. Very nice. I don't even know what else to say about him. Just a tremendous, wonderful sweet guy. Oh, and did I mention, he's HOT?! Yes, yes, he is. I mean how the hell can you go wrong with that combination, shiitttit!

Negra, that's great! That's tremendous! We're all so happy for you! Where did you meet this guy? Huh? uh ruh... Negra...? I uh, okay I met him on Myspace. D'oh! I know, I know. I didn't anticipate meeting him on MySpace! Hell, I never anticipated meeting any damn body ( and trust me I ain't) on that thing. It just kinda happened. We talked and joked around, and we exchanged numbers and decided to meet up. But Negra, you can't just be meeting folks on My Damn Space! I mean-- Okay, whose damn blog is this? Y'all can talk y'alls shit on someone else's shit. I'm tryin' to tell a damn story!

Now. He was coming from the city (Los Angeles) to get me from where I live (the Valley), and that takes roughly 30 minutes. I swear the chile musta been drivin' 110 mph to get to me (told y'all I was fly), because he was there in 15!I wasn't ready when he got there! I didn't think he would get there so damn fast! So while he was outside, he had to wait for me to get ready! And it rained earlier that day, so a sista hair was FLUCKED up! I had to curl it! And you know what?! He waited for me( told y'all I was fly =)!

So 20 minutes later ( My curls later came out, because I did a crappy job of curling me hair, I did it in 15 minutes y'all), I'm walking to his car, and I'm nervous as shit, because all those pictures he saw of me, on MySpace, were damn near Glamour Shots, minimising the appearance of the wretched teeth, and I smile. He smiles back. Wait, what? Did this nigga not just see my grill? Why he smilin"? Is he laughin at me or somethin'? He asked me where I wanted to go, and I responded that we could go to Starbucks and figure it out from there. He agreed.Now, I'm sweatin like a pimp with one hoe, because of my insecurity. And to top things off, this nigga keeps lookin' at me and smilin'! I feel like ole' boy in my last post and am ready to start wildin' 'cause I wanna know what in the fuck he's smilin' at!

When we get to Starbucks, he's as confused as a baby in a topless bar because: a) He's a man. The hell does he know about a latte'? and b) He's Black. The hell does he know about a latte'? So I order a White Chocolate latte' for him because say it with me y'all, What the hell does he know about a latte'? Tee hee, Sometimes I'm too funny for my damn self. Anyway, I ordered it for him, and I said something to the effect of " You don't know shit 'bout ordering a latte' because you're Black (yes, I realize there's irony there. That's what made the joke semi funny), and I put my hand on his hand as I said the word "black" to indicate the color. And. Guess. The. Fuck. What.

Dude. Had. A. Fake. Hand.

I was just about ready to draw a chalk outline around my newly deceased body, when I regrouped myself, as not to alarm him. Oh my dear LORD. I was so embarrassed. For HIM, not for ME! I didn't want him to think that that kind of thing matters to me. I mean, I told you guys, he's a sweetheart. I mean, the boy can give you a toothache with all that damn sugar! And again, I told y'all I have my insecurities too! I just wanted him to know that it was all good! I ain't trippin'!

The night went on, and we were jokin' and hugged up on one another, like nothing ever happened. I mean at least I did. We ended the nigh t with a few kisses ( no tongue, but that's a different post) and planned to go to the movies this coming Tuesday.I called him to make sure he got home safe but didn't answer my call! D'oh! I text him earlier today, and he said he went to sleep as soon as he got home, but when I called again, he didn't answer. I'm going to attempt one last time to call him in a few minutes, and if he doesn't answer, then it'll be up to him to make the next move.

I learned two things last night: Be thankful for what you have, as life could always be a lot worse, and NEVER, NEVER, let an insecurity stop you from doing something. If anyone is focused on that insecurity, they're not worth the time spent in your head thinking about them. Sometimes your insecurity can weed out all the fake, superficial people in your life, and that's great.

I just hope Marcus knows I'm a genuine, and sincere person.

MEN!

Anybody who knows me (not necessarily in the Biblical sense, mind you), knows that it's very simple to make La Negra Linda happy(I speak of myself in the 3rd person ALL the damn time. Got that ish from my mama). In fact there are only four real things that bring me ABSOLUTE joy, no matter what.

1) Food- La Negra Linda EATS. I'm quite finicky, picky, or whatever you wanna call it, and once I've discovered a type of food that doesn't make me cringe at the sight or smell of it, Negra is doin some SERIOUS consuming, son. Trust.

2) Music- I love music. When I was much younger, my father was a musician. Not the kind who smoked cigarettes, and propped me up on his knee, while telling me about how when he made it big, he was gonna by me a pony, then I wouldn't see the nigga for 6-7 months, due to his being on various "gigs", but in reality he was just livin with one of his hoes, that was payin his bills, so that he could have time to write, but wasn't writin nothin 'cause he had writers block, and she just didn't understand or appreciate his art, because she didn't really love him-- all while my mama was talkin' to me and my sister 'bout how he wasn't no good he was, which would make us cry, and be devoted to our father more than or mother, 'cause that nigga was gone buy us a pony, while she had stuff on lay-away at K-Mart for us ( how Hemingway of me). Na uh. I had, and still HAVE a GOOD father. He introduced me to music. He would play songs for my sister and I ( She's older than I am, and that trick got a SONG written about her when she was born), and explain all the instruments (and he played ALL of them), what they were called, how they were used, etc. To this day my music of choice is the classic R&B that he played for me.

3) Shopping- I'm a woman. 'Nuff said.

4) Men- Good GOD almighty do I love me some mens! I mean, 3 and 4 are tied in with each other! I go shopping all the time to be up on my game for menses!

Say what you will about women not needing a man to "validate them in anyway. You know what I say to that shit? Eff that,yo! Validate me nigga. Validate the FUCK outta me. I love everything about men. The way they, look, smell, talk. Fab, you hear me? FAB!

The only problem is that my adulation for all things male, I think causes extreme myopia, which ultimately brings about brutal mental anguish.

There's this guy I like. Fuck what you heard, despite my name, La Negra Linda has self esteem so low it can be scrapped off the ocean floor. And he's a gangster. No, not like " Nah, son, I don't wear no briefs, nigga, nah'msauin?! I'm a gansta. I wears DRAWZ, my nigga D-R- AWZ." No, not like that. Gangster as in this mofo started bangin' we he was NINE. His MAMA y'all, was in this gang, and was KILLED by her rivals. That kind of a gangster. He's NOT my boyfriend, and I'm not sure I would (hell who am I kidding, I do, I just don't wanna get shot) even want him to be my boyfriend. He just gives me attention. And I am an attention, is-you-buyin'-'cause I'se sellin'- WHORE.

Recently, I've been doing all the stuff that HE should be doing. I.E. paying his insurance, phone bill, buying dinner (am I getting PIMPED? Gah DAYUM, I really AM a whore! lol but not really =( ). And I've been getting a lil' less attention than usual. But you know what? I DON'T feel used! "Of course Negra you don't feel used. You like the guy". Okay, okay, maybe that's true. But remember how I told you guys about how much my hot behind liked men? I will JUMP at the opportunity to leave one, and get me another damn one. I've been used before. Hell, I get used all the time, really. Not always with money. In fact, when I 'm being used, it only deals with money, maybe 40% of the time. So, my point to this pointless post is : I KNOW when I'm being used. And when I get to that point, I stop. And maybe I'm blinded by his good dic--er-- personality, but, I don't feel like I'm being used. I could very well be.

My only problem with this guy is that I don't feel appreciated sometimes. That's why I'm fixin' to be done. Yea, Yea, I know I need to be done, cause homeboy used to be a pimp, has a baby mama(at 20), has a record longer than Crenshaw Blvd, and occasionally uses crystal meth, but we ain't talkin' bout that right now. I really need to get my ish straight. There are sooo many things wrong with this guy, but I am doing with him, what I do with MANY people. I ignore your faults and focus on what's "right" with you, rather than what's "wrong" with you. Is that wrong fam? Fam. Look at me actin' like I got folks really reading this jive.