And it was good.

Good morning y'all!!! How's my beloved IK this morning? I am pleased to report that despite the various stalkings and irritations from the ex'es who've been recently released from prison, I still had a lovely weekend. Saturday was fairly busy. I actually went out, again. And much to my horror (and the amusement of the associate I was with), some chick bought me a drink. Folks think I be lying about the rainbow magnetism I somehow exude against my will. I brought a non-believer with me and she laughed at me all night. But as a consolation, the comedian was funny and there were some non-gay men who stopped by the table as well. Cheap ass niggas didn't come up off no drink though. I confess, I'm a photo-makers addict. I have become addicted to their soft lenses and colorful backgrounds. I've taken two sets of pictures in about 4 days or something like that. That is the only place worth going in the Carson Mall (or the hallway as we call it because it is so lame) as far as I'm concerned. Thats where all the young ass hoochie mamas try to pose all sexy and what not. I took one set with my sister for the hell of it. Then I remembered at the next Zeta meeting I have to have the picture and profile sheet ready for the chapter pages. So I took yet another one, just because I'm addicted to the way they make a little bit of foundation and lip gloss look like I've been to the make-up artist. I look hella flawless. I mean, easy breezy beautiful Cover Girl flawless. I ain't mad at the carson hall photo-makers. I am mad however that they charge so much damn money. These little adolecents need to revolt (since they're the only ones that frequent the place on a regular basis... them and the baby momma movement of the surrounding hood union). I had to pay like 20 something bucks for a few 5x7's and 30 wallets. Who in the hell am I gonna give 30 damn wallets to? Little kids are conceited nowadays. See, these are the packages for the heffas that just assume you want a picture of them all scowled up, looking pseudo-sexy-stalkerish, forehead glisening in the reflected light, lips all huge from that cheap ass lip gloss they be sportin. These are the heffas that give you pictures when you dont ask. They like to look at themselves too, so they have these bootleg glamour shots all over their folders and shit. But dammit, I'm 25. I dont wanna look at myself that much. I only needed like 1 5x7, and maybe 8 wallets. Shit, I have 8 family members that think I look good. But 30??? Come on. But the stanky assistant chick wasn't havin' it. I had to get the 30 wallets. So I've got a jillion wallets strewn around my momma's room (you know I gave all them shits to her... mommas live for that mess) of me alone and then Nisha and myself. I am also a House of Blues addict. That place ain't for everyone because you have to stand. And since I have actual work this morning, I can't go into extreme detail of the Illustrious Kingdom Musician Raphael Saadiq. But I will say this. Next time I go to the damn H.O.B., I'm gonna be a foundation room member. I wanna sit on a couch next time. I ain't rich, but best believe I'mma save my change so I can be a foundation member and SIT THE HELL DOWN. I dont know why niggas cant come out on time when it's not even like we're sitting down. We're standing, damn you! The Nikes almost didn't hold up... but my Air Max never let me down. I actually had to drink, because I was getting mad. I love Raphael dearly. But the MoFo didn't perform long enough for as long as we had to stand, and me and drunk cuzz next to Nisha was having a fit because we had to work today. So all the working people was like, "Ray-Ray... we gotta work tomorrow!" Drunk cuzz was killin me. I couldn't even protest because he was like, "I'm 'bout to leave, Ray Ray! Hurry Up! I gotta go to work tomorrow! Auuuughhhh Ray Ray! Why you takin soooo loooong? Ahhhhhhhh." I was nowhere near as drunk as him. I think even Nisha had to sip something. Moms was crackin up at us because we were so mad. She was diggin the ambiance and contemplating who she was gonna scrap with if someone spilled a drink on her suede coat. I already knew who I'd fight if it went down... the blond chick in front of me. I just knew that heffa was gonna spill that drink on me, and I wasn't gonna do nothing but kick her smooth in the ankle. I wasn't even gonna kick her, I was gonna stomp on it real hard sideways to leave a Nike burn on her. Drunk ho. But luckily she didn't knock the drink over. And after all that, I have decided that I will still buy the live CD when it comes out. I'm such a groupie. An Imperial Fact: The More You Know Moment: 115 lbs and liquor don't mix. You get an invincible complex that defies all reason, laws of physics, and common sense. That is my PSA for the day. Anyway, lemme get to work. It should be a good day, even though I'm sleepy as hell right now. I may be back though, load looks light today. And with that, I'm out.