Adventures in Getting Down

By the Almighty Amourous, Mysteriously Marvelous, Supremely Sexy Neighborhood Queen (Reigning Supreme. Bow Down Nigga!)

Yeah, I put extra cheese on that. So what? You know the drill, K.M.A.!

Moving right along. Okay, last night I went to see dude next door. That boy is a f-r-e-a-k! All I got to say is "damn". He reminded me of another "friend", only dude next door is better. Once I made it home (when I could walk again) I started remembering the other friend and how wonderful he was. And my mind went to one specific event. Now we were getting down just fine and why oh why did this nigga want me to twist a q-tip around in his ear? Now that makes me feel good as hell, when I do it TO MYSELF. Other than a little kid or something, I can't see doing that for anyone else. But he was serious, so I did it. It was so funny, his face was doing too much. Then he said "lemme do you now". I laughed at him, but complied. Needless to say, now that I was reminded of that incident, I'm keeping q-tips on hand when I go next door. Mix the twisting w/ him kissing on my neck (damn his lips are BOMB as hell!), and I'd never go home again. I almost didnt go home last night. That, my friends, is a recipe for instant luvin'. Oh yeah.

*clapping hands* Hey you, servant, bring me new panties right away. Preferably the blue ones with Hello Kitty on them. Go now, the queen has spoken.*puts them on* Thank you. That is all.

Well, my boss comes back today. That's gonna suck, and thats all I have to say about that.

I just realized how much I like the end of Justin Timberlake's song "Last Night". It came on the radio @ AOL (crap-ass stations), and I caught the end. I'm cool on the first part though.

Well, the time has come for me to do some work. Now I have "more than a lot" of work. When I just have a "lot" of work, I can chill more. But I officially have "more than a lot". Woe is the Queen. But at least I have my flashbacks of last night to keep me sane. Wooooo! Someone get me a fan up in here!

Editors Note: By the way, the t-wolves(no capital=no respect) are TOAST. Burnt ass, nasty, crispy TOAST, made with moldy white bread. The kinda toast that no amount of butter, jelly, peanut butter, cinnamon and sugar, or anything else can save. And my friends, the Lakers are the toaster. Feel the wrath of L.A., suckas! GO LAKERS!