Determination, and Panties Etiquette

Good morning, my beloved people, peasants, IC, and suckas. I have an announcement. Today, I am determined to have a good day. I will not let the Wrongs get me down. I shall not open any more packages that arent lab supplies. I will not drink any Coke. I will not answer my work extension... no matter what. I will, however, eat pizza for lunch. So yes. Today should be a good day. Now I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea about me and the Wrongs. I don't want to make it seem like I'm trying to be the Almighty Pimpstress of the Internet. I'll save that for heffas that don't know better. Depending on when you arrived here in the IK, you might remember me speaking on my... uh... less than shiny college times. Most of the mickey-fickeys who bother me are from that time. I've settled down considerably. I no longer keep a crew of friends around to do my bidding. I quit that back in 1999 after I got shot and went back to church. So no, these ain't no new ones. I don't even make friends out here like that anymore. I'm a nice, quiet, reserved, damn-near-hermitized Sole Monarch now. I've been reformed. For real.... I promise! Quit looking at me like that! Unfortunately they raggedy asses ain't reformed. They're still stuck back in '99. And they're still bothering me. So if you were thinkin, "Damn, Misty is a pimp!", well, you're right. I am. But I'm no longer a pimp by choice, if that makes any sense. Mix all these old fools with a couple of more recent ex-es (The DF ex, ex-Baby, Criminal ex-es) and you've got the Stalkalistic Playas (BOOO) featured here. So are we clear? Misty is a good girl now. My thang ain't made of gold. I'm not being scanless, they just dont have lives, and that ain't my fault. All that being said, I hate these mo'fos. I've said it before, and I'll say it now. I'm tired. This shit isn't fun anymore, it sucks. I'm burnt out. Now I really have no true idea who comes through here. So if there are any Elderly Stalkalistic members of the WMB out there hiding in my kingdom (because I sure as hell wouldnt let yo ass in on GP), let me give you some advice. Her Imperial Majesty on Panties Etiquette in the Imperial Kingdom Do not, I repeat: DO NOT under any circumstances... buy draws for anyone 20 years younger than you unless she's a gold diggin ho' and you've already married her and wrote her into your rapidly approaching last will and testament. To do so outside of the aformention situation will induce dry heaving and severe stomach cramps, and threaten the 3 pounds that she may have managed to put on somehow. If you jeopardize the weight, you must die. A horrid, painful, death. Like being poked with a searing hot coat hanger until you die. By like 75 crackheads. In the brickyard on 135th and Central, where no one can hear you scream except other crackheads. Maybe some folks like getting panties at work. I might like it too, if they were from, say, Chris, Bobby, or Dion. And more recently another tall ass negro named Darrin. Good lawd, they tryin to kill me up in here. *fanning* Shit, what was I talking about? Yeah. Draws. On the Imperial Panties and who is allowed to buy them for me: Now. If you are un-sexy, and you look gross in a wife beater, dont bother to buy me draws. Matter of fact, if you look gross in ANY KIND OF UNDERWEAR, dont buy me draws. And I mean that with all that is in me. I mean, damn. If you look heinous in briefs and boxers? Come on man. Just kill yourself. You serve no purpose. Got it? Good. Moving on. If you lace up your shoes so tight that your ankles are strangling and gasping for air; I mean if the two opposite sides of the shoe are TOUCHING from the extreme force you've unleashed upon your strings... don't buy me draws. If you have to shave your nose hair on a regular basis, or have grey hair anywhere besides on your head, don't buy me panties. Basically, if the thought of you naked performing daily hygenic rituals makes me want to hurl (see above punishment for weight jeopardy), you CANNOT buy me panties. If I'mma be with you, I gotta love the way you look from behind in the morning when you're shaving and you don't know I'm watching you from the bed. I gotta love your ears. I gotta love it all, ankles, thighs, all of it. If you have old man habits infused into your daily routine, I'm sorry. I ain't there yet, homie. That is not sexy to me to watch you pull your socks up high (more on that later). So no. No draws from you. I don't care if you get the size right. And more importantly, lets discuss the KINDS of draws. Say you just HAVE to buy me panties or your life is gonna end (which it probably would anyways fuckin with me, wit cha old ass... but I'mma leave that alone). Whatever. Now say I've told you that I don't wear red because I feel like it makes me look weird. Why would you buy me RED draws? Huh? Why? Because you're senile and you can't remember what I told you. So if you have more senior moments that a few, dont buy me panties. Okay, another gross characteristic. If you have old man hands, dont touch anything that you might want me to put on my body. It aint going down. If my momma saw your picture and instantly had a turrets (sp?) moment and couldnt control her obsenities, dont buy me panties. If you CANT understand why wearing TALL SOCKS with ANYTHING that might show your legs is unacceptable to me, you're too old to buy me panties. Matter of fact, if you wear weird looking jean shorts, dont even think about it. If you've got too many wrinkles on your forehead, dont buy me panties. Hmm. What else? Oh yeah. If you want to fuss at me because I like listening to my old ass Doggystyle or Chronic CD rather than Spyro Gyra, Kenny G or whatever 94.7 the Wave spazz shit you're listening to, don't buy me draws. I don't want to listen to sophisticated music all the time, thank you very much. And flip that... if you're gonna lecture me every time I listen to Isaac Hayes' Look of Love, or anything from The Isley Brothers, dont buy me draws. There. That should sum it up for now. In closing, don't buy shit for me unless I ask, I'm your woman (not your play imaginary woman either. I mean both parties agree and recognize the union... not just you), or it's my birthday. And if you buy me a birthday present, it'd better not be draws. Thus is the edict, govern yourselves accordingly. The Queen has mandated it, and it shall be so. Now get yo' ass to work!