O to the M to the G! Oprah comes on in an hour and my ass is still in bed. Maybe that has a little to do with my evening of debauchery last night. Two words that are lethal together are "free cocktails", and there were just too many of those last night. At one point I was double fisting, and that's just not cute. I quickly reminded myself that it was only a Sunday night and questioned whether I should have been getting it in like that, so I put one drink down. Then I
said, "fuck it"! It's Black History Month, I'm partying until February 27 (it's my half birthday)! On Thursday I went to Georgetown to run an errand for my mother, it involved me visiting the post office. Little did I know it would take my ass 45 minutes to mail off a letter. The black
bitch who was working the window yelled to the customers in line, "If ya'll wanna get outta here faster, have all your stuff ready when you get to the window!" I felt like she was the mail Nazi, but I wsn't in the mood for her shit. I put on my "don't fuck with me" face as soon as I got
up to the window. She tried to have an attitude with me talking about, "You have your letter in the wrong envelope if you wanna send this overnight!" My response was, "How the hell was I supposed to know what envelope to put it in?" After she realized I was a live one, she backed
down. After that whole ordeal, i needed a drink!
I mean, it was Happy Hour somewhere? 1 pm isn't too early for cocktails, is it? After I had lunch, I headed back home. I prepped dinner and relaxed. Later on that night I met "the crew" at Steve's. It was supposed to be an early night, but somehow I didn't get home until 4 a.m.? Thank goodness I didn't have to work until noon. By 7 p.m. though my ass was dragging (no homo). I was contemplating crazy glueing my eyelids open, but came to a conclusion that wouldn't be good idea. After work I rushed home to bed. After a Lunesta and a glass of wine, I was right at the intersection of Sleepy Lane, and Knocked Out Street.
On Saturday I woke up feeling rested, I was even somewhat on time for work. On my way to work it started to snow, I didn't think it would be much more than light flurries, but it forced my work to close early. That sure as hell was fine with me. On my way home I did a bit of light
shopping at West Elm.
The store was a buzz with partnered gays and Capitol Hill yuppies. A found some cute stuff on sale, and hit it home. I cooked dinner and again popped a Lunesta and chased it with a glass of wine, don't worry I'm not gonna Heath Ledger.
On Sunday I went into work, it went by so slowly. I literally wanted to gouge my eyes out with a pen. My only reason for not performing self mutilation was hope of making it home to watch the Grammy's later.
It was a pretty good show. Two of music's leading women opened the show--Lady Gaga, and Elton John.
Beyonce gave a great performance of "If I were a Boy", but her lace front was a mess. Something was off with the part or something?
Pink is a carpet muncher, Drake performed, Jamie Foxx tore the house down, and Lady Gaga's outfits made he pee on myself!
The bitch is crazy, and I love every minute of it. She is always in full drag! Phillip Treacy for Armani Prive? I die!
She doesn't were outfits, she wears costumes. She's always performing, life is a stage. Take notes!
After watching some of the Grammy's I got ready to meet up with Joey, Dionne, and Horace at Matchbox. Upon arrival, the host told me that he was going to put me on "Da List". I said, "Da List huh?" He pointed for me to peek over the host stand, and there it was...
No bullshit, it really said "Da List"! You can't even make this stuff up!
After dinner, we went to a new bar called The Passenger. Little did we know they were closed for a private party, we ended up knowing people there so we crashed it! The party was sponsored by Absolut, so that's why I have a headache now. I hadn't even made it to where we were supposed to go, and I was already "tipsy".
There's Billy leaving the party, I think he was "tipsy" too...
So after that party, we went to Steve's Bar Room for Garai Rice's going away party. Garai will be missed, he is one of the dopest photographers in the city.
I did a bit of a photography session myself at Steve's in the women's bathroom (don't ask how I got there)
...and don't ask me who the cunt is posing in my coat, I have no clue?
I'm an equal opportunity bathroom photographer. Off to the men's room to capture some shots there...
Don't ask me who this is either, I have no clue?
Wow. O.K. So, we left Steve's for a little bit and hit up Lima (it's where the Blacks go on Sunday nights), I figured that it was Black History Month, so why not?
There was a lot of bottle poppin goin' on. There was also alot of hating going on. Whoever you two bitches were that were sitting at the table when we got there, don't hate. Take your fake ass speedy bag, and your going out top and shove it. Why are you giving me and my girl dirty looks because your champagne flutes were empty, and we had a bottle each to ourselves.
Note to wack bitches:
The theory of Natural Selection is the process by which heritable traits make it more likely for an organism to survive and successfully reproduce in a population over successive generations. Don't be mad at me bitch, it's just nature's way of weeding out the weak. Blame mother nature, not me? Some people have more dominant personalities. I like to call it the "social survival of the fittest" (see picture below).
If I smell your "social weakness", I'll eat you alive. Don't fuck with me or anyone in my crew, you won't win (respect my conglomerate). I couldn't ever see being intimidated by anyone, I don't care who you are.
Also to the faggot with the Canal Street Special Edition fake ass Birkin, eat a fat one!
(Now back to the blog)
After the hating session at Lima, it was back to Steve's...
Sadao and Mike Deezy
That's all you get for now.
Why was Gary "What you talkin' bout Willis" short old 'Different Strokes' ass Coleman arrested for domestic violence. If I were to ever let a man beat on me, it sure as hell wouldn't be no damn Gary Coleman. Maybe someone like Djimon Hounsou, or Adebesi from 'Oz', but not Gary Coleman! How did his short arms even swing far enough to hit a woman? I would hog tie his little ass and lock him in a suitcase until he came to his senses. Domestic violence my ass (rolls eyes)!
Ok, so by show of hands, who can't wait for the Ipad to be released (raising hand)? The motherfucker does everything! I believe it's also a vibrator, a brunch pan, a toster, a step on scale, an electric razor, a flask, and a hand held vacuum. If you haven't, go to Apple.com to watch the 9 minute video, it shows everything that the iPad can do. Apple sure does know how to make me spend money on shit that I absolutely don't need. It's just a big ass souped up iPhone, but I couldn't see not having it in my life. Watch me do me!
Ok, this scene was so wrong on so many levels. I wish I had a video camera to tape what was going on. The man by the wheelchair was the white male version of Monique in 'Precious'. He was telling the poor boy that just because he was Autistic, doesn't mean that he can be rude. He kept telling him over and over that he was a selfish disgusting human being (I'm so not lying). He was obviously drunk, and the poor sweet boy wasn't even doing anything. So sad.
On a happier note, cute look on this guy on the train the other morning. Great peacoat, scarf and chelsea boot!
I don't know what was going on here. Why do some DC black guys like to dress like they're Arab? I just don't know where to file this, so I'll move on...
This latin queen was passing out samples of General Tso's chicken in the mall. She asked me if I wanted any, I quickly said "No". That faggy had the worst lisp ever, which means he was spittin' all over those dry ass samples. I couldn't see it! Sounding like Cindy Brady and shit!
What in the Yoko Ono is going on here?
You can't see, but her pullman was Hello Kitty.
You can't really knock her, at least she has a look?