Thursday, June 3, 2010

Walter Williams.

call me crazy, but Walter Williams makes lots of sense. a lot of the shit he says deserves the side eye, but dude has good points. His blinking bothers me OD though. argh.
YouTube him. he just made what I believe sound smarter. he also kinda makes it seem ignorant at certain points too. Oh Well.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

le header.

i just realized what photo is in my header.smfh. i was maddd toasted that day. it will be changed soon. i functioned quite well though. because idk how to change it now. *le sigh. this blog WILL be the longer version of my recently deleted twitter & facebook. i'll be back on though. in September. the only people that can contact me are those i like. i was on FB & Twitter as if i ACTUALLY networked with niggas. smh. but yeah. i need to find a photo to replace my current header.
the silly heart bra though Hilly? and the tongue out though? was that supposed to be SEXY? smfh... i'm such a crumbled piece of toast bread when i drink too much and second hand smoke the piffington. smh. i should find something relevant to rant about. tomorrow. or whenever i get back on this.

photo. afro

my afro has gotten quite large. i want to take photos with her. her name is Chaka. last name Zulu. she never listens to me. she's that resistant diva that her name suggests. i want a dope ass camera a yellow dress and a pick. make me smile too. i like photos lots. despite how fat i have gotten. photos are always nice. my smiles are always awkward & i always love the camera more than it loves me.but OH WELL. an afropicked photoshoot, WILL work.
i also want someone to tickle my feet for some random reason.
i want to laugh from the bottom of my guts.
dislocate my gall bladder and shit.
i want that photo to be taken in black and white.
make the moment pure. if i wanted it PURE pure, i'd make it all white.
sprinkle some yayo on it. [that's what they call coke right?]
but i want my face to be it'd have to be a segregated type photo.
i like how i look like pure oil in black and whites.
where's my brother & his dope ass Nikon & shit.
lucky bastard. nice ass camera in the face type niggaroach.
where is anyone in this world with a nice ass camera?

what the frinky tinks!?

i was completely cool about breaking out into hives. i was like ok, sensitive ass skin ain't no THANG. but now shit wanna get disrespectful and climb to my face?! "i'm cute for a dark skinned girl". they're about to take that away. now my face looks chubby as if i'm not already overweight enough. just FML. i'm so superficial that i can't even study that well. oh lawd. oh my goodness. superficial me.
Despicable ME. imma def see that this summer.
i'm gonna do a lot this summer. at least that's what i'm saying NOW.
just, my FACE though?! & i can't scratch it because i refuse to be ugly & scarred on the outside. i'm cool with the inside oogliness.i can work on that when i'm 90 & dying. but my face though?! ahhh!

*GLARES at psych book. its a blob. tries not to itch. holds back tears.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

random rant about men. which are many.

falling in love has never been my thing. & falling into beds is getting a bit boring. penises get less and less fun to ride after you realize all they are is a bunch of weird ass erectile tissue that niggas piss from. i think i'll just TRY to cut dudes off. i really don't understand why its hard. i don't even LIKE men. no, i am not gay, but being straight has never benefitted my heart much either. i think i'll read "Ain't Gonna Be the Same Fool Twice" again. when i realized everyone was just human, regardless of what they liked. then i read "Roots" when i realized a lot of people don't even give a fuck about that, regardless of history. AND 'That Time' has been in my head FOREVER. so cheap & JUICY! smh. oh well.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

i always thought, that being pretty was always too much work. i was always kinda secretly happy i was never cookie cutter pretty. i was always that ugly one with the really big fucked up smile but i smiled pretty lol. being ugly kinda makes you have to look reallllllly deep for a pretty feature about yourself. then you end up appreciating yourself even more. for example, i'm a big fan of my own breasts. though not large, they indeed are pretty :)i won't put a picture of them up here, but my face, i always found ugly. which makes it super dope in my eyes. like, what the fuck is pretty? other girls can have fun with THAT shit. ugly is IN now a days. like, where the fuck ARE you guys?

my hair looks like the surroundings of a sheep's fassssssy holeee. it's fucking dope though. sheep are dumb motherfuckers anyway. whats the use of them. the clothes their hair makes is itchy as fuck. Jesus may have had an afro. doesn't the Bible say some shit like that? i wonder if he had a dope ass pick? hmmmm. well, thanks asses of sheep. for allowing my hair to jock your swag. we MAJOR. Major Lazer. Pon De Floor type shit. dedehdididididdedoooo. unexplainable, but you dancing anyways, right? yeah, that's how my afro does shit. my afro. says FTW.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

you look like that man i kissed gently on the fingertips of my grandmother. you seem delicate & make me more comfortable in awkward moments. i wish words would have been exchanged. instead of an awkward 'its ok.' i wish i could tell you exactly whats on my mind. you look like the secret i've told someone, the only person that i've told this fact that i'm no longer friends with. you hope i can swallow your words. i wish my esophagus was able to handle hers. i miss her. i've heard you speak. you're beautiful when you speak. you're beautiful. you're beautiful. i think i would allow myself to fall in love with you. maybe. i want to kiss each individual nerve ending on your lips to let them know that they're special. to tell them thank you for making my heart full. yes, i'm a psycho. yes, i have memorized one of your works. yes, i'm in love with your voice. yes, i'm just a Staten Island girl that HATES words. but they're not so bad when you speak.


i am not a poet. i am not a poet & i do not write poetry. i hate words. i hate words just like you may hate me. i hate words. my nail polish is a reddish pink. reddish pink, oh yeah reddish pink like that unhealthy vagina you learn about in health class. i'm glad my vagina doesn't look like my nail polish. i hate words. i hate random shit like this i hate words. i hate poetry. i hate it because i dream about it & it never talks back i hate poetry. i'm wearing a plaid mans shirt. i hate femininity. fuck you God for making my body the epitome of femininity. don't fuck you God because you get virgins pregnant. God you're delicious. yes, fuck you God. i am not a woman. because my vagina its misbehaved & will capture any private it likes. its powerful, i listen. she's a kinky bitch. she'd yell at me if i didnt give her what she wanted, i'm not a woman. a braid fell out. ugh a braid fell out because my afro is too short for this weave. i dream of big Jackson 5 afros. i do not dream. fuck dreams. vivid imaginations are dope though. i'm a 5'7 172 pound house filled of it. yes, that poem sucked. i'm well aware. fuck poems. fuck words. i'm not a poet, or a woman, and i have a healthy vagina. yah.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

SOOOO, i'm here. In my Cognitive Psychology class pretending I give a fuck about what this guy is talking about. In my daydreams I see a whole bunch of shit. Right now me & Thelonious Monk are playing Numbers on top of a piano, I'm still dreaming about being the crease in that guys elbow, [I'll be over that fantasy soon enough] & i'm thinking about 2009. That year, I thought there would be a major change because I was graduating HS, going into college, etc, etc. But it really wasn't. I met a dude that ended up HATING & wasting my time with. I smoked weed for the first time & drunk myself into oblivion on many occassions. I also did a lot of things i ended up regretting. However, I did something I thought I would regret and I really did not. Which was shocking, because I beat myself up over everything. Right now, I still feel awkward and certain things in my life I think are changing me for the less open, & i HATE IT. but I still remember that one thing. And i don't feel bad, or feel that i SHOULD feel bad. I'm so awkward, it's painful. & i'm starting to miss people. which is bothersome because i hate people. Hating to miss people is soo much worse than my hatred of people in general. Oh well, I guess I should get back to pretending to pay attention. Even though I'm daydreaming of molesting a chick with a huge afro & large knockers. [mind you, i'm straight] much love. later on i'll tell you how the Wernicke's Area helped me write this pointless ass blog.