Thursday, December 10, 2009

KRAMPUS THE CHRISTMAS DEMON

Every year around this time, I remember the days Sarah and I were in Berlin doing a winter tour. We strolled through the Christmas market of Marlene Dietrichplatz and all of a sudden these crazy demon weirdos came and hit sarah....actually, they beat her.

In old-school German folklore (Bavarian really), Krampus, dude from St. Nicks entourage, comes to beat bad kids. He's the yang to Santas Ying. Santa gives presents to good kids and Krampus to beatings to bad kids. Naughty kids, prepare to get your ass beat. Traditionally depicted with huge horns, a black mane, talon-like claws (Krampus comes from the Old German for "claw"), and wielding chains and a birch rod, Santa's enforcer beat, whipped and shamed bad children. Sometimes, Krampus went so far as to shove his victims into a sack and throw that into a river. He seemed also to have a particular penchant for birching young, pretty virgins.




Sarah started crying. I wanted to get Kamal to beat him up. It was frightening. Actually frightening.

Then we went to the Grand Hyatt for lunch, had Chestnut soup and listened to Mariah Carey's "Oh Holy Night".

Awww, Christmas.

Friday, December 4, 2009

HOLY WET CLITORISES BATMAN

I think I may have gotten the break I was looking for...in a few ways. Good old Susan Miller will need to sort this out.

http://astrologyzone.com/forecasts/monthly/leo_full.php

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

SOLDIER OF LOVE


Yes bitch...come on out!

She always comes out in Winter is seems.

Giving mad back.

DICK IS REDUNDANT

Tis true.
All this talk about how easy it is for girls to get penis and it's false. And let me tell you why.
Talking.
Talking is a sure fire way to talk yourself out of some easy pussy. Let me tell you.
Tonight a fellow was in the dressing room...been thinking about leaning up on some of that...maybe, who knows...but , ya know...ITS THERE...in the atmosphere, perhaps. So he's explaining to me how a common acquaintance is a douche and common acquaintances assistant says, "I left tv to do this." Futuro Dick says, "you LEFT tv? Are you crazy. Don't go on the road. No man will ever marry you."
Ouch.
I loved the frankness.

And i'm dealing with the reality.

But ease up selecta...I'm trying to bone you before the tour starts.

Monday, November 30, 2009

Swell not

I missed everything this weekend. Hanging with the family all weekend. My goddaughter is so delicious I can eat her. I visited my uncle and he looks wonderful. My grandparents are getting older and being with them is a blessing and I love them. I thought my cousin-in-law and I would be able to go to Churches or Trestles...but since it rained and the water was reportedly deathly, Safe Black girl and her Liberal-but-from-a-Republican-household cousin (which means we've merged families perfectly because it makes him still safe) decided against the threat of staff infections and went to Denny's with the family instead. My cousin wore a mullet, Kiki Jo ate everyone's sausages, good old family fun.

I've almost had too much family time now and I always wonder will I have the patience my mother has taking of my grandparents, to take care of her. We talk about it. My grandmother is increasingly surly. And I'm praying, hoping, wishing, my mother stays on the light-hearted end of the spectrum. Age, mortality, etc, is a tough egg. Old people don't want to be bothered with anything and think they know all there is to know about everything. My grandmother and I are alike in that way. Know it alls. Stubborn. I'm looking in a mirror and getting mad at her because it stirs up, obviously, things in me. I do believe in change however. I think the minute you are so over life that you cannot learn anything else you may as well roll over and die. What would be the point anymore?

I need to go surf.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Back from Euro promo

I cannot believe i didn't blog once. Corny. All of the emotional turmoil I went through on this trip and have the nerve not to at least cut and paste my emails. In my NYC hotel now. Saddened to leave Paris. I was doing four much at the VIp room paris. I love that they have juicy black girl hostesses. Same ones from Saint Tropez. Lovely Ladies. Fun. De la Soul, Pete Rock, CL Smooth, Lucien all showed up and Will absolutely MURDERED it. He knows I don't come often to his gigs. Lord knows I cannot take the new rage of techno. However, my feet from all of the dancing i did. Absolutely positively in pain. I had 3 boys there. Working the room. Too bad I could only think of the one who wasn't there. My goodness. But at least I have another baby daddy to add to my list of baby daddies. I can get started right away too. Live in Paris part time and get all that free healthcare goodness.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Judgment

I have a plethora, not a small amount, damn near all of my friends, my family, most of the people I am around judge. Which leads me to believe what I think as being witty is probably judgment too. The fact that I may be more savvy with my words doesn't necessarily change the fact that it's judgment. Also, if I do happen to be right, it doesn't lessen my actions of judgment. It's very difficult. People love you and want the best for you and some how, when they are judging, it's not the obvious person or situation, but rather your own personal decision-making. That's what gets my goat.

I think life is about change. That's the only thing we're even doing here. You have to trust and allow people to change and grow from any given situation. I know I'm not as stupid as I was 10 years ago and am elated that I'm not as smart as I will be in the 10 years to come. I just think I better ease up off of the clowning and extra name calling.

Do unto others, Tina.
Do unto others.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Does Anyone Know why?

On youtube, all of Jody Watley's video's have been "disabled upon request"? It's really fucking annoying... here I am, bleeding my heart out, and cannot even share some of Watley's greatest hits.

Fucking annoying.

please link

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h9tzhhcQBbs

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GIgEuZakXsc


It's really a shame we cannot enjoy this together.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Last Days in New Zealand


The beauty of my gig, and the beauty of being single and the beauty of not having kids, is that more often than not, I can jump away for a couple of days, ride a wave I had no business being on even if it is the longest left, and just chill with no cell service and no blackberry messenger. Nada. A tub on a cliff, an incredible wave about to devour my amateur ass, the New Zealand Bush, good friends/people and a trifle o' bootay, all adds up to a pretty damn humbling experience.





Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Abusers

I love how bitch ass abusers are. They only abuse people who will allow them to abuse them. It's hysterically ironic. You're so big and bad. Telling someone how they aren't tough. I thought you were tough. Or whatever. And the people who are tough, you'd never say no bullshit like that. Talk shit to me abusive motherfucker.

Ridiculous.

bitch
ass
niggas.

Last Dance.....

Last chance for loooove.....
yes it's our last dance....romance....tooo niiiiight

I love the last day of tour.
Pranks
Wine tasting on the lovely Waiheke Isle.
Spending all the money you didn't spend while on tour on cheesy gifts - Koala Bears, kangaroo stamps.

Stupid dumb fun.

And then there's the receipts.

I fricken hate doing receipts. Except once you actually do them, you wonder why you procrastinated so much in the first place. They are not such a big deal. But whatevs.

Tonights show will be great. Despite the ignoramous Kiwi who told me how stupid Americans were and how we didn't think for ourselves and shit because I didn't want to do a wine tour with him. I thought I was going to get arrested. Fucker.

It's time to set up the pranks.

Will let you know soon.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

passive/aggressive and other great evils

I'm wondering when confrontation became a bad word. People don't like to be uncomfortable so instead they create a giant vortex of bullshit, smouldering to almost the breaking point. And at the breaking point the silence , the passive part, is so deadly you can fall apart on impact. A friend of mine once told me "niggas don't like to be told that they niggas all the time." Another friend told me, "my girl is my girl because she falls back. I'm no good, but whatever, I never have to hear it." For real? That's how we have to walk through life huh? Allowing motherfuckers to say and do anything they want and they don't get to be accountable? Awesome. There is no way that the God, the awesome God I believe in, could have possibly put me on this earth to endure some dumb ass shit. Its a Commandment people! "Do Unto Others as you would have then do unto you.". That's not cryptic, doesn't carry any idolatry message, no devil worship or Christian cult. Its good old fashioned common sense that clearly aint so common.

So to the fools in power, genre-wise, I ask just one thing of you...please...
.STEP YOUR DICK UP! (And yes. Its a challenge you limp dicke mutheafucks).

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Haves and Have Nots

Where does it say that people aren't to be treated the way you want them to treat you? Caste systems and class issues are so fucking bogus it drives me nuts. I'm on edge. I think my time at this type of work is coming to an end. Truly. I wish I could see the type of damage stress does to your heart. I'd like to know what mine looks like right now.

Monday, October 5, 2009

Balls the Size of Adelaide

1. old friend who popped into my life as an inspiring vessel disappears off the planet and doesn't speak to me or even say, "i gotta disappear" and hopes that my surgery went well....all on Facebook. Isn't that equivalent to breaking up with someone on a post-it?

2. Just realized that douche-oldie-but-goodie came to my hotel bar and had me come downstairs and was with his ex...

3. people not realizing that the Peas are actually a black group and walk around using the word "nigger" like it's all good.

4. Ari Gold's wife investing all of the money into his career.

5. My French girlfriend who does the same thing for her Frenchy pompous bossy husband.

6. Stylists who keep us at an impasse because she refuses to have a 5 hour lay over.

7. Australians.

8. The music industry

9. 24 year olds who date every 35 and over woman on Twitter

10. And You....you know who you are.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Sell out or Sell In

I don't know how to cope with politics.
I truly don't. I'm talking about treatment of human beings and common decency.
Shit is so wack. And it sucks to be held hostage into some dumb shit over a paycheck.

I don't want to do that.
It's toxic.

I know that the music industry is cutthroat and shit, but my goodness. We are among devils. Loyalty is not even a picture. To the point that loyalty becomes something stupid people do, or broke people do, or whatever. AND i'm not getting my rate. It just adds insult to injury. It truly does.

This is some dirty ass shit.

Friday, October 2, 2009

AUSSIES

I can't decide if they are cute or butt ass ugly.
The women are really frail and have crazy teeth and then some of the women are JUICY , like Shyree, the stewardess on the plane today. JUI-CY.
Then all of the dates of the men here....frail - like with skeleton features with blonde hair and no lips but lots of red lipstick on their...I dunno what you call that place below your nose and above your chin if you have no lips.

And then the men are fine with weathered skin. But I can't tell if they are gay or not.

I must go out and investigate tonight. Or maybe I shouldn't. Maybe my sick ass should go to bed and avoid the crowds until tomorrow night....hmmmm.

But the party is at a CASINO!!! You know how I love casinos.

I'm Sick

They were giving out flu shots yesterday and I had the NERVE to say no. Like on some conspiracy theory shit about flu epidemics and being in a foreign country. How dare I. And now look at me. I've had a head ache since 3am. I've taken wellness formula, juice after juice, soup, cold medicine. Tonight is the Sydney show. Donna Karan and perhaps my future baby daddy Richard Branson are coming and I have no desire to lift a finger. Let alone type out a blog. But I have to work. if I don't NOTHING will get done. I swear, NOTHING. I'm working triple time out here for less. it's times like these you wonder why you do what you do. I hare being sick. I'm nauseous too. Sucks to be me right now.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Gold Coast Surfing


I officially psyched myself out. Only due to the fact that SOMEbody told me it was shark mating season. Whatever the hell that is. I thought sharks could mate any time they damn well please.
but let me start again.

Woke up ready to work and take on Australia. We don't have those fancy and efficient Japanese tour managers with us so, alas, the holiday was over. Steering clear of road booty I decide to go see a good friend of mine I met once upon a time when I was an Italian boys piece and he put me up in his Santa Monica condo. I rented out a room and found the lovely Anne. Anne happens to live in Brisbane and I went to stay at her house. The driver we're using for this run also works for the likes of the Offspring and Ben Harper. So I knew 2 Brisbanians. Lo and behold, he's taking me to my friend who happens to live on his old street. Upon arrival turns out they know each other. The only 2 people in Australia I know, who I met in LA, both live on the same street. What are the odds?

She then took me to Morgans in Scarborough, delicious fresh fish from the bay...the SAME bay that we rented a fishing boat in last time we were here for the Police tour. Crazy huh?

Had a nice normal evening in a home, in a recliner, watching tivo'd "Without A Trace".

Finally went to bed at 3am waking up to drama in Waynes World. 4 days before we depart and now everyone wants to talk and have opinions. Sheesh. But this is the life and I take it for better or for worse.

Meanwhile, Road Booty texts and complains and offers a car and I'm swearing him off cuz this is his hood, right? And he's a free spirit and Australians can fight? I may run up on the wrong bitch fucking around with him. But he offers to take me surfing.

I decline and my friend Anne takes me to the Gold Coast. Meanwhile, there's a Facebook convo about shark mating and about how I need to be careful and watch for Greyshirts and tsunamis and swells ...and oh, this is the area where shark are least populated. Anne then tells me that there were only 2 shark attacks this year in all of Australia and those odds are great.

So determined not to be a buster and get all the way to Australia with 2 wet suits, I put on my new one and get into the water...on an 8 foot board mind you. Didn't catch shit. Waves were rocky. And every shadow I saw I thought was a tiger shark (cuz that's all they have here, no great whites) or a hammerhead). These are my options. Then the lifeguard yells over the loud speaker "Surfers please paddle away from the swimming area!"....SHARKS! Where? What sharks? I'm the fuck up out of here.

And I ended my surf time in 45 minutes. I'll try again in Melbourne...Perth for sure. But NO BODY talk to me about sharks no more damnit. I don't want to hear about shark nets, great lifeguards, or NOTHING. I surf perfectly fine with no lifeguards in Malibu and I've never been freaked out the way I was today.

But my suit is sooooo cute.

Monday, September 28, 2009

LIve and Direct from Brisbane

Twitter and Facebook are taking up my blog time. Turns out I have a short attention span just like the rest of America. Therefore, I update them regularly and play out my own blog. Damn the Man!

So I've arrived into Brisbane after a 7 hour flight and an impossible connection. Niggas was late as usual, and the plane waited 30 minutes for us, only to prove to niggas that they can be late again. Though I'm so glad they waited. I did not want to check into a hotel in Sydney, only to get back up again and go to another airport. Fuck.

The show was excellent in Singapore. I mean truly. My best homie from college was there, the Peas did a fantastic show, the set was designed to the ultimate hotness, AND I got to see Beyonce do a back bend to the floor and still blow. WTF? IT was a good night. Oh, and I woke up to a tongue in my ass. I'm not sure I ever want to leave Singapore. EVER.

But I did.

And now I'm in Brisbane. And went to a wack ass strip club, though "Bubbles" and "summer" did their best to entertain us. How come the club was empty and still we went into the VIP lounge? So gay. I brought niggas to the stage to tip them girls. They've been working so hard and it's a Monday night. Niggas man. I spent all of my per diem on them girls.

Now 2 black labels and a vodka and cranberry later, I'm in my bed at the hotel. I'll post photos tomorrow of the Singapore hotel. It was amazing this. This one is cute too. Cept everyone has washers and dryers and not me. Tha fuck? I thought this shit was a suite?

Sunday, September 20, 2009

OSAKA

So Osaka wasn't has fun as it was when I was here last. I just realized that I desperately need to learn Japanese. I cannot stand non communication. I communicate for a living. I micro manage for crying out loud! My phone doesn't work, the ethernet cord is too short to reach my bed, the desk is locked down, there aren't any good movies on tv. The day off was almost a living hell and to top it all off, I have cramps that are so ridiculous I want to slap my doctor! I mean, why in the hell did I have a surgery to remove these gotdamn fibroids when I have the worst cramps and a horrible flow any damn way. For real. Waste of a bikini line and I'll always have to have a c-section.

But I've gotten beyond myself. My visit with my uncle Troy was too short. Gosh I love him. But we always have such good ADULT conversations. After all, he's only 10 years older than me. But Ferg was sweet to them and Taboo, as always. He's so great.

In any event, now I have to figure out how to get through this day with a smile even though I'm in pain and have no 800mg ibuprofen which I am addicted to. I have these Japanese pain killers that are doing the trick but I'm not so convinced since they aren't the size of a golf ball.

I did have Shabu Shabu for the first time last night. No one spoke english. Menus had like 4 words on it for reference, and yet the lady next to me spoke a bit and taught us how to make it work. Ahh, human decency. Thank Jesus. That's why I always help foreigners. You have to pay it forward.

I don't even think they have an H&M here. Hmmph.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

So Now apparently I have a drinking problem

When will the hating end?
Or maybe I do. Fuck it.
In the words of Nikki Minaj.....let me "step my dick up."

Thursday, September 17, 2009

"I never promised you a rose garden"

I love relationships.
They are amazing in what they uncover about people. How people respond and react. How the blueprint of their ID comes back to haunt them over and over again. Then, the Universe, plops something right in their laps to allow them to look at themselves, i.e. a TEST. And what do we choose to do? Of course we defend ourselves first. When i was tested last week, the first thing I did was say I'd rather quit than to face the challenge, or actually, face the fact that maybe I made someone feel some kind of way about me. I whooped and hollered and cursed and defended and threw out some "F" bombs, called some gang banger friends...the WORKS. Rather than holding still, and stop kicking and screaming your way through this, I had to sit and deal and RELATE. All relationships are this way. There isn't a moment where I have the luxury to say, "well this is just how it is and if you're rolling with me, then....". That's the way it is on ALL sides of a relationship. Something's got to give until it just doesn't. I have no desire to make people think the way I think. I think the way I think and if you choose to participate in my life, this is how it will be. We will work out what we can between the 2 of us. If we reach an impasse, we just do.

Early rise Tokyo

The sun is rising super fast in Tokyo this morning. I kind of wish I'd gotten up earlier to go the fish market. It was just that a creditor called me to tell me I was 19 days late on a bill. That was unnerving. In any event, I'm up now.

I also woke up because I thought I was dreaming but left my slingbox on. The news this morning was shattering.

 

I thought I was going to be sick. It affected all of my dreams. I woke up praying hard for this woman. I feel like I need to find her or something. Sweet Jesus, what does that mean? What is the lesson in that? God makes it tough not to question him...I don't think we're not supposed to. I think that was some Christian pastors way of shutting down his flock. I really need some answers for stuff like this, so I can cope. I can only imagine what she needs.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Hamamatstu Japan

Made it and am tired as balls.

The bad news is .... I had to set up my OWN office. JAMIIIIIIL!!!!! JEEEENNNNNNN!!!!!!

Where are they :-( ??


The good news is:
2 miles from surf action, Japan styles. AND the water is 74 degrees!

Banging.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Moving in, rolling out.

First off, Happy Birthday dream hampton!!!
September 11th is also the day my life changed. 25 year old girl en route to grad school. I get a call from my mans best friend that he was in the hospital. Turns out, he has a heart attack on the court. And he dies. Tupac, who he happens to look like, dies 2 days later. Worst thing to date I've ever gone through. In any event, shot out to Craig Antoine Price for showing me how to love.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

LAST DAY

I dipped into the Atlantic moments after the shark went away....there was a shark call.

But it was beautiful. Great to have have the salt water on my body and even greater to have drinks to follow.

Got to the venue late. So there was no choice but for my assistants to handle. Wanted them to know that i trusted them....hmmm....hard pill to swallow.

Hoping we don't actually have a party and we can have our own at the beach...with no sharks. I'm going to will the sharks away.

Tina

Friday, September 4, 2009

It ain't all bad

I forgot. Snoop and Bootsy were at the show yesterday. Snoop asked me why I didn't get on stage when Gin and Juice was on.
Heh.

Eat a Dick up until you hiccup

Sweet Jesus I'm tired.
I am tired of underlying currents. Those being, "put this bitch in her place". I'm not sure how to stomach it or accept it. My first inclination is to quit altogether. Of course that would be what they want. Or maybe I'm too big for my britches? well DUH, isn't that why i was hired?
I don't know where to go with this one. Play a nice quiet 2nd base? Who doesn't know that the 2nd baseman runs the field though? It's ridiculous! And infuriating. I have had it up to here! Oh, I think that's my cue for Queen Latifah. Who, by the way, needs to chin check Perez Hilton her own self. He gets on my fucking nerves. This video is what best describes me today. I can't take no more. Jesus deliver me.


Monday, August 31, 2009

Days Off and Fish Frys

I love days off.
I love days off in Detroit.
But I really love days off where I can cook. And I've decided to have a fish fry.
Snapper, catfish and Detroits local fare - perch. I don't even know how to cook perch or what perch tastes like but Lawry's season all hasn't failed me yet.

More to come.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Boost Mobile Pro pres by Hurley: Sept 11 - 20, 2009


This means I have one day where I could, quite possibly, drive down to Trestles and catch fine ass Kelly Slater in the first heat.

I'm finna do it too. Who's down?

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Foolish Heart

The radio was turned to the classic rock station when I came back to my hotel. Conrad Indianapolis is lovely. And I immediately was set in a mood. A hot classic rock mood. I love classic rock. When did that happen? I don't know. I know my ex used to listen to it all the time, but since I knew all of the words, I had to have listened to them sooner. And now this. Now i'm in a Steve Perry vortex that I cannot get out of. I bought the whole damn album. "Oh Sherrie", "Foolish Heart", "When You're In Love", when did I become a middle-aged white woman? What the fuck?

Meanwhile, back at the Lil Wayne ranch, my kids are doing great. Stepping so far up to the plate and reaching beyond my expectations - well, reaching my expectations. I got high expectations. They are now teaching my newbie. And they are running this and giving me enough breathing room to be able to attack my other job....the drama filled one with the prick ass PM. IS that like the criteria of PMing is to be a ginormous cum-sucking prick? I'm looking on monster.com and I don't see that listed in the job description, but lo and behold. As Biggie would say, "here's another one......and another one."

Shit, I should have bought Journey's Greatest Hits. Just Steve Perry is kinda sucky.

Friday, August 28, 2009

I Got Jacked for Bus Stock

As if getting thrown under the bus by the new PM wasn't enough, as if being suspected of scalping wasn't enough, as if stopping a nigga from beating a females ass by throwing him in jail wasn't enough, this nigga from...let's just say the "parent company" bus, jacked me for my bus stock.

We order bus food for our long rides for our 4 buses. That does not include 5. And the thought of niggas and their silver ass platinum whatever teeth gleaming into my car and across my General Tsao's chicken talking about , "well can the big bank get some food? Oh, Big Money can't eat. What we gon' tell him then?" It was a horrible shake down. Over some fucking chicken broccoli.

I'm beyond being sick of misogyny. Misogyny ought to pay me for being his publicist since I out half of it's crew. More than half. What the fuck, man? I'm even tired of hearing myself talk about it, and yet, it comes up over and over and over again. Whether its a fat fuck of a played out ass production manager regaling motherfuckers with stories of "when i was with...... What the fuck....

Or niggas telling females on my bus "well, you shouldn't really use the word attack if nothing physical happened. I think you guys are overreacting. Or really? I didn't ask you what you thought i asked you to protect me. So much for that expectation.

Oh, and my top favorite. Turns out, between tour managing the number 1 tour of the summer and the number 1 band on the charts for 20 weeks, i've added ticket scalping to my busy busy schedule. Tha fuck outta here!

Ever have those weeks where it all hits you at once? And what do i do? I'm so tired. I'm so tired of fighting. They need to come up with a new word for fighting I'm so tired of it.

But God msust be setting me up for something else. not sure what it is or what it encompasses but I will wait. Studiosly, patiently, happily. Wait.

Friday, August 21, 2009

one day on ICHAT between managers.....

T: whatcha doin?
S: finalizing this - Hennessey deal via email then goin to watch TV and rest my brain
u like Hennessey??

T: naw
i don't drink nigga drinks
hennesey
tanqueray
alize
hypnotiq
no nigga drinks for me
but if you get a Ketel One deal....then......

S: how can u put Henny in the same sentence as fuckin Hypnotiq??

T: just cuz yawl uppity niggas don't mean it ain't a nigga drink
Hypnotiq was made for niggaz....hence the "q"

S: lol

T: its all "yac"

S: Niggas discovered Henny by mistake. Some niggas like they yac with koolaid

T: lol

S: Henny is like Timberland
like
like Ralph Lauren
Like POLO!
"if y'all niggaz gonna buy it...oh well, but it wasnt made for y'all"

T: but Rakim sells it....I thought it was for niggas exclusively

S: nah.....henny is a top shelf cognac

T: okay

S: Remy is too.

S: niggaz just fucked it up by putting it in records and videos and shit

T: Back when I was a nigga I used to drink Courvoisier . But only cuz it was French

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Faith In the Universe

So God has, once again, proven to be all provider and all knower. Worried about keeping up my reputation and being thorough, an angel came to me and started working for free. Flew herself in and has been a great asset. Just for the opportunity. She is not a teenager , she is a grown ass woman.

So i'm trying to figure out how to sneak her into the camp. The pace of Pop is much different than rap. There's a reason pop stars are POPULAR, they are constantly moving. So she's been helping me with daysheets and the like. Catching up with the pace. And it just so happens....we need another person on crew to do whatever....another "indian" as we have so many chiefs. And VOILA!!! This bitch was already about to use her miles to come and help me regardless ...and just a wee bit of positive energy, putting yourself in the right place at the right time, seeing the BIGGER PICTURE, and.....well, I'm just a little bit moved. We hired her. And she only worked for free for a month.

it overwhelms me a taste. It really does.

Praise Jesus...for reals.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

BLAME CANADA ......ALWAYS

I normally get mad at the border. but this time....it wasn't racial profiling, it's just that niggas be doing dumb shit. Like I always say, "jail is filled with niggas who 'only did' this . Or 'all I did was' that." It's fucking ridiculous. I say don't try no dumb shit, and what do they do, walk the dumbshit to the customs counter. Then, "niggas" have the nerve to get mad when the officer starts roasting. "aww, if he didn't have that badge and that gun I wonder how he would act." "He can't see me." Really niggas? I am so fucking embarrassed I WANTED them to turn us away at the border. But they didn't. And it sucks cuz 'niggas' will think they got away with it or, all it was was a slap in the wrist. And then they don't learn. Meanwhile, I have friends and family stuck in jail on some for real racist shit and can't move because of dumb niggas.

I don't know what's worse. Douchie white boy or dumb nigga shit. I'm still not sure which one hurts the most though. I think my racism against both races basically neutralizes it. So fuck it. I'm not racist no more. I hate niggas and white folks equally and I love them equally. I feel so paul McCartney/Michael Jackson right now its....well, it's corny.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

INJUSTICE


I would just like you all to know that I've come into the Mac store to replace my lost ipod ONLY to find that the "classic" has different pins. Meaning, different chargers. Meaning my Bose speakers and my car attachment require an adaptor. Ask me if the adaptor is free?
FUCK!
NO!

Meaning... ITS NOT FUCKING "CLASSIC".

Fuck apple.
Fucking Communists.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Goodnight Toronto

Drake has officially left the building.
Toronto gave me goosebumps. It was amazing.
I will miss him so.

Monday, August 3, 2009

My Black Card.....and other embarrassing moments around white people

I played hooky last night from the Wayne Tour. My other buddy had a show at Jones Beach the next night so I decided to spend a lovely weekend in Long Island. After getting the babies off to VA I chilled with my sister and home girl. I knew I was going to a hillbilly show so I put on my best daisy dukes, a fantastic red white and blue plaid button down, and some cherry red open toe 3 inch Manolos. Hair ever so Pat Benetar and I even wore eye shadow! I was going out!

We started out in Freeport on the Nautical Mile for brunch and Bloody Marys- it being Sunday and all. It was pouring. Like a hurricane. It was amazing. I just knew the ampitheater show would be washed out. Thank God I had a perm, much to my homeboys dismay. "What?! No afro? Oh well, nappy wet hair will have to do," his text read prior to jumping on the citation and heading into town. After a few Heinekens, Sam Adams Summerfest and a raffle, we were on our way, in adverse conditions.

We were slightly rushing and I was on empty. I swore we'd stop on the way but I didn't see a gas station so I kept it moving.

I prepped my girl on the possible fun of the evening: drinks and dressing room hoes, fights. Bedlam. An amazing amount of people came. I did a hick check and was pleasantly surprised to see that not all hillbillies have missing teeth or are even rednecks. In fact, they was tryna holla.

Backstage scene was cool and easy going just like my boy. It was a happy reunion of old tour manager homies and their wives.

The show was GREAT! I mean, I knew he was a rockstar and shit, but for reals? He's a fucking rockstar. Great performer, amazingly tight band, great production. And who am I to be shocked? Its not like he hasn't been in the business for 20 years and didn't have time to hone his skills. Sauf for the Roots opening for him in, like , 2001, I hadn't seen a show of his at all.

So he kidnapped us and his bodyguard drove my car. Drunk cackles about 15 minutes later we pull over to the gas station. I'm thinking, what type of unprofessional ass car service company needs to pull over for gas. The driver says, "oh no, he has to pull over for gas." Oh yeah. My boy says, "did you come to the concert on fumes?" "It was the rental car company. We didn't want to miss the show! They brought me an empty car!" To which he promptly replies, "Earlier after the surf and snowboard talk, I was going to revoke your black card. I'm happy to say with this incident, you can keep it."

Wiggers.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

BQE .... BACKED UP AS USUAL

I've been sitting on the BQE for an hour coming from the Verrazzano Bridge. I knew this would happen. I bet everyone 230pm arrival. They said..."oh no, Long Island ain't that far."

So I did what any normal person would do, made the the driver turn on DJ Quik's , "Can I Eat it?" It's inspiring.
My sister is coming to tonight's show, amazing.
My girl Amy.
My girl Tanya.

And tomorrow we'll chill and watch Lynard Skinnard and Bobbie. I've never been to a country and western hick party before. I'm ready to rock my poom pooms. I was looking for a confederate bikini but to no avail I hope the weather holds up. It's beautiful on the Long Island Expressway right now. 85 degrees and bumper to bumper. We'll get there one day. But at least DJ Quik will see us through.

And now I have to face the fact that Drake may not be coming back to tour. The reason for todays depressive episode. Aside from him being a cutey patootey, I so believe in him, his growth and progress in his career, I hate the breaks. Working for the Roots you learn one thing, niggas get good because they work all the time. Show after show makes practice perfect. He's getting better and better. Most rappers can't use a microphone these days to emit their voices let alone tell a story and capture their audience. You never know how good they are because you can't hear them!
But Drake....oh well. I'm done. I must be strong. I'm fasting until he's better. Which I hope is soon. Cuz i'm gettin' HONGRY!

Friday, July 31, 2009

i Should be Blackberry's spokesmodel

No, for real. I go through 4 phones a year. I drop them at least 3 times a day and I throw them at least 3 times a week at my mental hologram assistants. Of course they're not there! I'm no Naomi Campbell, though I can't exactly say I disagree with her tirades. You don't know what that assistant did or didn't do prior to that phone sailing through the air! Don't even get me started!

In any event, I have the new Verizon Tour! I'm amazed that I'm typing from my bunk on the telephone. Crazy groovy. My ass needs to be asleep. The girls were jabbering so. I hate all girl buses. I need some niggas on here soon lest I lose my mind with talk of hair curling, eye lash application, and who I wish I could fuck. Wishing you could fuck is so....eww, desperate. Just be a stalker! Like me! Either you fuck that nigga or you don't and get over it.
That's why I had to break it off with Jeff.

Ok. I'm seriously delirious.

Good night.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Niggapalooza Does It Again

I got hit 3 times tonight. Not by all of the giant bodyguard negroes that were there, no blonde, 6'0 tall, cheery white boys skipping down the aisles cups filled with beer a'plenty, thrilled beyond belief to be at the "Young Money Presents: America's Most Wanted Music Festival". MTV, Rollingstone and Spin covered tonight. Ticket counts are unbelievable. Rows and rows of happy go lucky Wayne Concert goers.

It looked like people were having a great time. We put a good show together. I was stressed but I suppose not as much as I have been before. I flushed it all out over the weekend. It's not over yet, but it should be getting smoother. Tomorrow is a day off and I have to spend the whole day finishing Peas stuff. I should try to get a good nights sleep.

OH YEAH, I had to go to the dentist today. So I get my crown covered, and get 2 teeth filled. Took me 3 shots to get numb. Retarded. I was annoyed, but entertained by the hot George Hamilton dentist who slightly peeved me out. I had no where to go but to listen to his advances which were so forward, I could have thrown up. But he could have been slightly cute and great to hang with had he not been so forward. I mean damn. I know my skin is chocolatey smooth but SHIT. Stop rubbing on me. Wowzers.

I must nap now. I have to break news.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

I Think I've Given Up Jeff Goldblum

After waking up to put out a fire that never existed, I turn on the tv to watch CNN. Regular. One thing you can watch consistently each Sunday and in any hotel in America is CNN.

What I DIDN'T notice, was CNN Sunday morning anchor, TJ Holmes. That brother is fine! I wonder is he would be adverse to surfing? He is my new focus.

My farewell dinner last week with 3 friends was at Aqua Lounge. Jeff Goldblum, my Boo, was performing. After his set he came up to me and gave me a kiss and hug, told me how great the Roots were and how much they loved me. Then he walked away and I noticed something. That ass from the Fly and Independence Day? No where to be found. I don't even think he had on typical skinny jeans - but that didn't matter. He's so skinny. And maybe I've slightly fallen out of love with him. It's so sad. An end of an era.

Friday, July 24, 2009

Mother Goose .....On the Road Again

We've begun the America's Most Wanted Tour. I've got to tell you. Running a business is hard work. The more employees you acquire the more management has to be done. My business was at a near collapse this past month. Issues like commitment, loyalty and trust have been tested at an all time high. Training men and women are very different. Women cry, which is disturbing and men placate. The ush. Both are much more irritating than simply saying "okay". I must re-evaluate hiring young people. And by young I mean under 30. I don't have time for the growing pains. And it's my fault. I like to be teacher, auntie, sister, mother. I'm everyone's friend and so everyone is WAY TOO COMFORTABLE. It has been an issue of mine for years actually. To the point that no one even knows I'm disappointed until I flip out because they'd never think it was their bad. Far be it for anyone to think that.

In any event, I've managed to move out of my place, secure another, and go on tour without a heart attack. Something, however, has got to give. I have a slew of new employees in my stead just waiting to pop out in case these others cannot get the "entitled" bug out of their system. There is a recession. I like the older, self-assured, decisive, mothers who I've hired who know that they have to pay bills and can just knock the shit out and say thank you at the end of the day instead of dragging my nipples to the floor.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Jet Lag


Been up since 330am.
Trying to get a head start on these tours.

So sad to be back. Really focusing on how to make enough to be able to sit there during the summer. And then I wonder if my ship has sailed to do so. It was amazing.

The black girls there...well. Weird. I dunno how to feel about that and the perception. I'm still processing.

I know I have tons of boxes in my house and I actually am ready to move INTO a place. I feel like maybe now isn't the time for my roommate event. It's taking some time and while I'm not really into stressing about ha ing a place or caring to stay anywhere real until November 8th, suddenly, I'm ready to move into a place tomorrow. Or today as it where. I've been on Craigslist the last few hours.

I dunno. My life is overwhelming all over again. I have to run away from it just to get some rest. And when I land back into it, it's hell.

I need breakfast. I'm starving.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Dick Fiend


In the urban dictionary, it reads that a "dick fiend" is a girl who can't see, get, suck or fuck enough dicks. I had to think about that before I labeled this blog. I've been in sexy ass France for 3 weeks ending it in the MOST sexy of sexy towns...well, let me rephrase. This town is so fucking obnoxious it makes Miami look like Disneyland. And as much as I love France, i too know that these motherfuckers are full of shit. Trust. I could be blinded by the wine, but for what. They ain't shit no more than the average fucker on Rodeo drive. However, St. Tropez is still sexy as a muthafucka. Not to mention I've been staying in a small village on a hill called Ramatuelle and THAT shit was beyond sexy. And now i'm in a hotel, L'ermitage. All old and classic and in the French spirit, but it isn't complete yet. "Andre" designed the rooms and it's going to be beautiful. GOING to be. But they are under crazy construction and there are about 3 people in this hotel with everyone running around helping us. Hand and foot. So as I sit on the terrasse on the side of the hill overlooking the port of St. Tropez and listening to the Ipod and Ipod Bose speakers I provided for the bar, I'm wondering this (a la Sarah Jessica Parker).

Is it possible to get some dick BEFORE I leave on Tuesday?

(And yes I had some in Paris, but that was WEEK(S) ago!)

So yeah, St. Tropez, in all of your inflated glory, what's up with the dick?

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Lacanau - NO!



Gotdamn Lacanau and it's riptides. I didn't know what a riptide was until I was in it. It was very helpful swimming OUT to catch the surf, but then when I was IN the surf, it was like a washing machine and you're the drawers that get stuck on the spinner. AND those cupcake jellyfish who the locals tell me "pas mechant" , not mean? What the hell does that mean? All I know is they were EVERYWHERE. But I couldn't worry about that. I was more worried about being sucked under. Did I catch waves? I guess, yes. No yes. I caught waves. But then, I was hit by one coming from the left. There were no set sets. It was stupid and exhausting and they told me September was a better time. Ha.

AND the weather was lousy. So we left for St. Tropez where it's high 80's.

Along the way, we ran into a city called Carsaconne. It's an 11th century castle built and ruled by the Trecval Family from the Roman era. Talk about AMAZING. It was like being in Shrek. It looked like Princess Fiona's castle. And all the wonders included.
The dopest thing is this festival they have. Tonight Lenny Kravitz is playing and Seal next week. Depeche Mode was there the night before we arrived. It was truly amazing.

Now we're in a little village above St. Tropez called Ramatuelle. I was truly worried for a little while about working away from home. Then I realized I have been working a long time to get it so the world is my office. I have my two computers on my hip. Nothing is wrong in the world. I can still do daysheets. I quit a client that was causing me drama. And now I'm in St. Tropez. Will.I.Am has a party here in a couple of days, all is cool. It's nice to have my titties back out on the beach!

Monday, July 6, 2009

ALL MY LOVE


Goes to you Michael!

My cousin got tickets to the lottery and invited me and here I am still fucking around in no wave having ass Lacanau.

Oh Michael.......

Sunday, July 5, 2009

La Postina




I'm in the middle of a forest. Sleepy as hell. Glad to have missed that damn cupcake looking jelly fish. Damn jelly fish. Let's just say I've been talking about Lacanau, France since my douchebag old fling. Since the Wayne tour canceled, I was able to manipulate myself into a tour de France of my own. We drove to Bordeaux full of beer and cheese and chorizo. Didn't arrive until late in the evening in which I had to find my way through the winding and confusing streets of centre ville. After which we discovered a market place of BARS. Straight bars. Like a "Bar Off". Like the "You Got Served" of bars. I plop my ass down with my Guadeloupian people as usual.

But I'm too far ahead.

Paris.



Met up with an island boy who I'd been meaning to meet up with. Great. Fantastic. Gigantor is his nickname. But as island boys are and do....and I dont want to be mean. But, yes, my expectations are high and those who tempt to tame the shrew, well...ya know.


Anyway. Paris, clubs under a bridge, bitch ass bar at Hotel Plaza Athenee, and my favorite italian restaurant, my FAVE lingerie spot..tours canceled, now what are we going to do?



TOUR DE FRANCE!!! My version. I've been dying to surf in Lacanau. My french and surf, i'm thinking....this is gonna be the best trip on the planet.




My friend and I set off, cheese, bread and chorizo in hand, on a road trip to Bordeaux. We arrived late....you know that the directions given are worse than New Jersey here? Like, people shouldn't drive in other countries until they read what all of the signs mean. It's stupid. I wasted an hour just from no sign comprehension.

We unloaded our 50 bags and set off for food. Of course at 12:00am no food was available. My ass, as usual, finds the Guadeloupean bar at the "Bar Off" and we proceed to drink Planteurs, the Guadaloupean version of a rum punch.

A group of loud , drunk , obnoxious but cute Chileans came by and spoke to us in Spancais, or Franish. So we had no choice but to follow them. We found ourselves in a lovely bar of straight people. no really. they were straight, so I thought. It was the DJ who was a raving queen. He told me so as soon as I ordered my 3 beers, but the accent was in French. I give him credit for summoning his inner black girl.



IN any event, his playlist was:
It Raining Men - The Weather Girls (formerly known as Two Tons of Fun)
Think - Aretha Franklin
Hot Stuff - Donna Summer
I'm so Excited - Pointer Sisters

All that hot dancing and I had to run from my 23 year old Chileans. FRICKEN 23 YEAR OLDS LET ME BE!
So we come home. I do a little midnight work (4am work actually) and honestly, this is the 4th night home at 4am. I gotta stop this shit. I mean really.

So got up this morning/afternoon, got an Ipod plug at the Virgin Megastore and drove to Cap Ferret.

The beach is bordered by a beautiful forest where people camp. It's the camp / holiday spot for normal French people....the ones who camp with their families, not traipse the Rue St Honore in hopes of Givenchy sales and Lanvin mark downs.



At our beach bar, I see some crazy fine Costa Rican French boy. Sweet Jesus. God IS the best architect cuz that child was too beautiful for words. We had beers and ZZ Top. It was then i realized that ZZ Top was the truth and not just some redneck band. I'm still downloading the boxed set.

After nasty bloody marys and coffee, we headed to the beach, in which I found an open surf rental.

Wack board, but fuck it. I'm in France fricking surfing.

In the midst of battling high tide and an inconsistent current, I see a cupcake in the water. I'm thinking, why are people so fucking trashy? It's not just Cali, even in France throw their shit in the water. Shortly thereafter I felt some tickling on my feet. Worse case scenario i'm always thinking in the water, but there was that stupid CUPCAKE! Upon second glance, it was just a giant striped Jellyfish. GIANT STRIPED JELLY FISH. I caught a wave so fast just to get out that bitch you woulda thought I was a pro.




Fuck Jellyfish.

Stupid jellyfish.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Il Fait Chaud commes des Balons

Le temps: il y a soleil. Mais actuallement, il fait chaud commes les balons. Hier, j'ai promene des Invalides a mon hotel de merde le Novotel. Je pense le seulement chose qui est bon de l'hotel est ma vue de la Seine et la statue de liberte originale. L'autre chose est la Gwadadian rasta fils que je suis reconnu, mais c'est une autre histoire.
Peut-etre il est le mieux histoire parce que rien se passe a Paris depuis j'arrive. Le tour me fait malade. La groupe est disorganise dans un bout qui me fait, literallement, malade. J'essaye aquirer le patience mais chacque jour je me sens comme ma tete va exploder ou ma coeur. Entre BEP et Lil Wayne, tous mes employes nouveaux, le blog, mes reves, je suis accable.

Mon amie, Nadine, habite ici avec sa nouvelle bebe. Jolie Nila....comme Vanille. Elle est si jolie et douce.
Et mon ami, dit que j'ai touce sa couer. tres aimable. Paris Paris. J'espere que j'ai plus de temps ici sans les negres!

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Slingbox, Soho London and Michael Jackson....

It's 5am. Once again, I'm in same London hotel room not able to sleep. Didn't even need the drugs or the alcohol to stay awake. Every gay club in West London rocked out to all Michael Jackson and Denise Williams. I was in 8th grade again high as a kite. Taking a few hours to think about .......... nothing. No ground transportation, no guarantee pick ups, no routing.
This industry is a roller coaster. Any time someone has a heart attack i'm afraid of my stress levels. I know production managers who have died and / or had triple bypasses due to their levels of stress. And as I go into this meeting in a few hours to play who has the biggest balls, I'm contemplating, "why do i have to prove it all the time? Can't I have a respectable business in the music industry without my employees fearing me or my blood pressure rising?" And I think the answer is, to be good? no. To be at the top of your game? Hells no. I have to be constantly on my toes even if it's stomping out shit heads who are beneath me. But who's beneath me? And who am I to even have someone beneath me. It's just like Dina in Housewives of New Jersey who gave up success to take care of her child. Cept that bitch had a husband in the background who'd pay for shit regardless.

That's always my fucking hang up.

let me get back to my slingbox to watch part two.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Welcome to.....ALL MY ADVENTURES

I'm trying out a couple of my journal entries from tours past and present. Let me know your thoughts.



4:30am
RIIIIING!!!
“Hhhhello?”
“Ma’am?”
“Yes?”
“Um, do you have any black guys in your party?”
“uh…yes.”
“Well one of them is in the hall way….asleep….and naked.”
[insert opener]

How does one resolve these situations? By leaping up with a video camera of course to get it all on film, something to laugh about on the bus later. Something to roast marshmallows to and drink Heineken Darks in the middle of Europe to. I don’t know. Something funny. The elevator opens on floor 3 and that’s when the smell hits me. Suddenly, this doesn’t seem so funny any more. There is a security guard standing just outside of the suite area…staring down, gripping his Billy club. BILLY CLUB? This Midwest mutha fu…..I pick up my speed and focus on what the security guard is focusing on….a grown man, fetal position, drooling into a puddle of vomit and….oh dear God no…is that? FECES? Jesus Mother of Mary.
“I am so sorry sir. Is housekeeping around?”
“They’re not going to clean THAT.”
“Well if I could procure a bucket and some Pine-sol I could help…but you’re going to have to help me a out a bit here…really. Stop ogling and MOVE.” Fucking rent-a-cops.
My sound man drags him into the room. I run bath water. He chooses to leap into his bed with vomit and feces, his own, on his feet. He’s moaning loudly. I’m pouring water onto the floor trying my hardest not to throw up and/or jump off of the Sheraton balcony because I have a Masters Degree and I’m cleaning up a 30 year olds shit.

I call down to the front desk.
“Hello, I need a bucket. Someone is sick.”
“Yes, ve aer all sick.” Smart ass Indian.
“Yeah, well do you want it in the hallway all night or do you want to help me find something to clean it with.”
“It ees 5 oclock een zee morning….housekeeping duz not show up until seex oclock.”
“Fine then I’ll go back to bed.”
“WAIT! I vill bring to you bucket.” Fuck.

SO to keep under raps that our lead “rapper” has mistaken the common hallway for his suite bathroom, I must endure the wrath of shit duty. I’m too nice to wake anyone, particularly since I don’t want anyone, not even group members, to know. His new name would be “Shitty Wonder” or “Sponge Bob Shit Pants” or “Shit E. Ricardo”…then he’d be mad, he’d start firing people, I wouldn’t be able to pay my mortgage….etc. Shit happens, right?

Shit clean, back to the lobby to drop off the bucket. The first car of the morning for the first group is standing by. The New Yorkers are ready to go. One hour later will be the Arizonans and then the Angelinos. I don’t think Shit Boy (see, I’m even starting) will be up by then. I see the others off, thank them for a great tour and see you in 2 weeks! I stagger, red-eyed and nose fried back into bed and wait.

I tell my assistant of the evenings “goings on”. She calls his room. Of course he has missed his flight, but we knew that. We were just going to wait until Frankenshit arose and would put him on the next flight back to LA.
He doesn’t answer.
My assistant goes to the room to bang on the door.
Still no answer.
“Tina!! What are we gonna do? What if he’s dead?” She’s getting nervous.
“We’d sell 3 million records?”
Okay, bad joke. I calm her down and tell her to wait for him to come out of his drunken slumber, but be ready -- he’s going to want to get the hell out of there fast. I had him scheduled on the next 3 flights, the airport is 20 minutes away.
We wait another 45 minutes. Check out is in about 30 minutes. We have to wake him. Shit, now I have to call front desk. I wonder how fast the news spread through the staff? The best thing to do would be to get him out of here, through the service entrance.
“Security please. Yeah, I’m gonna need for someone to let me into suite 1708. We believe someone is passed out in there and isn’t hearing the alarm. He won’t be out by check out if we don’t get him out. Can you help us please, Sir?”
“1708?”
Here come the jokes.
“Yes. 1708.”
Pause. “We’ll be right there.”
We’ll? What were they sending? A fucking Shit Calvary?

My assistant stands by and Security opens the door. He’s awake.
“I thought you were the maids again. They keep knocking on my door.”
“No Dude, that was me. It’s almost noon.”
“I missed my flight?!”
“Yes, you were passed out and you’re fucked up. Look at yourself.”
“I ate in the bed?”
“Ate in the bed?”
“Yeah, that’s jelly in the bed.”
“No Dude, that’s SHIT in the bed. YOUR shit.”
“No it’s not.”
“Yes it is. And it was a big deal and the whole fucking hotel knows. Get your shit and let’s get out of here.”
“Somebody must have put something in my drink.”

That or the whole bottle of Patron Silver you drank after the show. The 4 other drinks you had at the after party, or the cold fries. Yes, that or a Mickey. Let’s say, “mickey”.

“Midwest-towners thought to have slipped Mickey into rap stars drink while at reggae night at local undisclosed bar.”

That’s about as likely as George Clooney calling me to really take me away and not invite me to invite them to play at his 45th birthday party. Pro Hoes (our term for athlete groupies) have it so much better.

And what should I say to him? Anything? Since I am his mother, sister, best friend, representative of all baby’s mommas and such?

I see him off and promise never to bring me or my kind to that hotel EVER again.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Dialnet - My hero

There is a very special store on Melrose, one block away from Johnny Rockets. They fix that stupid charger port on the stupid Blackberry when it goes bad...which it does, every 3 - 6 fucking months. I have about 4 blackberries because black berry simply has you return the phone and gives you a new one. Whereas, these brilliant, i dunno, Armenians since we're in LA and all, have come up with the brilliant idea of REPAIRING THE PORT. For $60 you can be happy. $60 and 2 hours. Which sometimes sends me into a frenzy, but at least the port is repaired and I can charge it without tying a band aid or duct tape around my phone.

It's truly the little things in life that can lift my whole day.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

"My Dogs wear my collars, Sirs. And let no one at this table ever forget that."

Oh Helen Mirren, oh Queen Elizabeth. If people just understood that. It doesn't have to be a bad thing. I mean, people are slaves to a corporation who just have a bunch of men folk in charge. Why a woman gotta be all a bitch and shit if she does the same thing. It's far too complicated to have to explain equality, so you just have to start ball chopping. I'm convinced of this. I think I'm going to make that saying a t-shirt.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

36 hours and counting

I'm looking across my hotel room to my made up bed at 9am. Nope. I shore didn't sleep in it. Nope, I sat on the couch at the end of it with both of my computers out and advancing every summer show I had. Toured the new house I'm renting with my gay husbands. Shopped on Amazon for my Boo. Packed. Showered. Lathered my leather still sunburned skin. Listened to Roberta Flack 4 times. Yelled at Talent careening down the hall with her London peeps. And Ichatted. What the fuck is it about London this trip that leads me to insomnia? Sure just 4 days ago i was 11 hours behind here. But that was FOUR DAYS AGO. I think this is what they call age. At one time I could globetrot without missing a beat. And while no beats where missed, my body is shore nuff tired. And nothing in particular happened in London to excite me. A flurry of French waiters in each restaurant, but I wasn't up on my game. Too sleepy. Then I get to my room and stay up all night. I NEVER stay up all night. Not even to cram in college.


SO I'm going to get on this bloody plane and knock myself out, literally, all the way to Philly.

Roots 2nd Annual Picninc this Saturday June 6th.

Holla!

T

Monday, June 1, 2009

BURNT SUGAR





I'm so black Greg Tate ain't got nuthin' on me. I am completely and utterly sunburnt. I just swore up and down that my melanin would save the day. I am sadly mistaken. I was awoken this morning, not by the sun rising over Diamond Head, not by waves lapping outside my door, but by my sheets stuck to the back of my legs. I tried to move but used the back of my arms which also stuck. Then I tried with my shoulders who, as their fellow limbs, were also stuck. The burn of sunburn. I've been sunburned before, hell i'm from Sacramento. I remember 109 degree summers. It's starts on my little rosy cheeks and then maybe my shoulders. But my back and my BOOTY? Lord have mercy even my BOOTY is sunburned.

But it was for a good cause.

I rode a 7 foot wave. Oh yes, I did (said wave photo not included). I rode it looong and haard. I didn't falter, fall, succumb, nothin! I rode that muthfucka til ITS wheels fell off. OH hells yeah. And then I did it again.

I put in 4 days in a row of long hard surfing. And just when I thought I was good and could take day 5 by storm? Sheets stuck on the back of my ass. Walking in the sun actually hurt. I'm Indian black. Which I don't mind. I just hate that I hurt whenever people touch me. That's some white shit man! First surfing, then the Fat Boys break up, now this.

However, I stayed in the best hotel EVER. The Waikiki Grand hotel. 1 block from the beach. I can see the break I surf from my lanai. And did I mention the best part? It's GAY FRIENDLY. And did I mention the next best part? You know how hotel bars are usually poppin'? Well this one was poppin' and it's a GAY BAR. They showed Donna Summer and Jody Watley videos, excerpts from gay themed movies like "Mambo Italiano" and "the Bird Cage" and anything John Waters. They had a male reveiw Thursday through Saturday nights. AND, did I mention the 3rd best thing EVER? Besides the kitchenette I had in my cute condo, I cooked for me and my girl who rolled out on a humbug from NYC. So we had bacon, eggs, croissants, coffee and guava nectar all on the lanai....Roberta Flack crooning from the IPOD, and what do I see rolling down Kalakaua Blvd? A GAY PRIDE PARADE!!!!

Can you imagine what the bar was going to be like AFTER the party? Child, we ate and ran to the bar for $2.00 bloody mary's and all the topless boys you can see. The lesbians were friendly. I told the first ones we were straight and they stopped talking to us. But the next few gals were cool as cucumbers. Found out all of the great house music hangs, concerts in the park, that 70% of the military was gay - "don't ask DO tell"....it was amazing.

All before 11:45am.

That's when I headed out for the surf.

By the time I came back, I was a chocolatey new sensation. Amazing. So I thought.

Til this morning. Now I'm happy to leave this island.

That and my Surf Boo's daughter got really ill so I didn't get to have that final romantic evening I wanted. Such is life when dating dudes with kids. I had to really think about that. Do I want to date someone with kids? And I do. By the time my old ass has a baby I want them to already have siblings. Plus I like guys who have kids already, and are actually apart of their lives and take care of them. If only they can make room for newness in their lives and no baby mama drama I'm all in. Hell, I'm still friends with my ex boyfriends ex wife, so anything is possible.

Oh Honolulu....I'll be back in 2 weeks. With some 87 proof sun block.  Surf boys are still CRAZY fine.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

good vs evil

I had a boyfriend once (bada ba). No seriously. And I wanted to make it work. He wanted to make it work. We argued about things that each of us thought we were completely right about. He became mean. Then me, the Leo, became meaner. He became rude. Then me, the Leo, became overly truthful. He withheld the only thing that he could, the Leo became emasculating. There was nothing he could say to shut me down. I had a million come backs. And while I possibly was right, he was possibly right. The only difference was that - yes, maybe I was a little smarter and yes I had many more experiences than he. Was it necessary for me to blow his entire ego? Was it necessary for me to tear him down just because...I don't know, I could?
I was not meek, I was not humble, I was not gracious. I was not Christ-like, I was not civil and I was not kind. I was a bully.

When you treat somebody bad, even if you're right, because you can....you are wrong. You are a bully.
There is no love in that.

Stop being a bully.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

The No Alcohol on Ground Rule

Why is it that first class can offer champagne but not liquor? Here I am, all geared up and ready to go on my trip to Aruba, my token Bloody Mary in hand (imaginary) and lo and behold, I can't gets no liquor. So I must blog to force myself awake as I will shorely fall asleep before take off.

So Idol. My 2 favorite people were Fergie (of course) That blue on her was SLAMMING....I mean COME ON....fuck Perez Hilton. He can't say shit about that. Bitch looked banging.

And then there was the creme de la creme....Queen Latifah...the off the shoulder cat suit JUMP OFF...AND the french roll? JUICY....so very juicy it's crazy. I don't want her to lose no more weight though.

What a week. I'm glad the Peas are off to London and out of my hair...momentarily. I'm glad to be on a plane with Estelle going to Aruba, never been.

And I'm glad that I'll be going to Hawaii next week. I will continue. Flights bouncing. Somebody find me that Queen Latifah flick!

Thursday, May 14, 2009

WIGGER BEAST



















I believe that I am the lost link to Wiggers. Like I'm the diplomat to deliver true wiggers into their constitution by freeing them of their white guilt. Does this mean I'm some sort of white girl, or white girl lover? I pride myself on having mad issues with white girls actually. Like, I think I hung with them for a time to get back at them for making me get perms and hating myself. Then I decided that I liked beer and white people always have beer. Then they started taking me skiing, hiking and surfing, Tijuana and Tahoe, and had pools and shit. AND THEN their men had crazy fetishes that defied all my self hate and, frankly, alright with me. So now, GTG is ....well, a safe haven of wiggerdom. Have wigger will travel. Why, I believe I've created a wigger BEAST, if you will. African American Culture Studying, Trustafarian having, Soloman and Sheba loving, no shoe wearing, dog on the mouth kissing, Too Short in the summertime listening ass white folks.

Oh white people....yawl slay me.

Here are the top wiggers of all time:
Kid Rock
Hall and Oates
Robin Thicke
Teena Marie
All of the Doobie Brothers
Bill Maher
Mena Suvari
All White boys with dreads
Bill Maher
The Kardashians
Michael Rappaport
Dinah Shore (NOTORIOUS Passer)
Quentin Tarantino
Coco
Justin Timberlake
Adam Samberg and generally all Jewish boys from Brooklyn or the Bay Area


and our very own Authentic Police officer, Sarah Stinski

Special shot out to all Italian men all over the world!!!!

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

High School Musical vs College Hill

To all of my dear white girlfriends who are caught up with these black boys. I understand it's different. Hell I'm a fan of interracial co-mingling. I think it makes the human race stronger. And I get that white girls are cooler and "less drama" than black girls...what with the emasculating thing and all. But really, how far are you gonna fall back? What does that require? My homeboy told me that his girl "rewards him for bad behavior". I can get down with that. At least he knows he's a douche. My problem is any woman feeling bad about herself over something some headtripper told her. I'm being racist. I've had my feelings hurt by a couple of white boys, so who the fuck am I to say. But some of the bullshit I hear? Be some black nigga 101. Yes I said it. That Goldy pimp ass shit that niggas take straight from movies and say to any one who will listen. Don't get me wrong, white girls ain't stupid. PUHLEASE, some of the BEST pimptresses is some white girls. I take note. But to my youngsters who do all that talking and shit, yawl need to get up on some black nigga game. Stop watching High School Musical and get with some College Hill. GET UP ON YOUR NIGGA GAME. You should not be sad and feeling no kinda way...bout nothing.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Overrated Fabulous

I am so sick of the word "fabulous". Talk about an over used adjective. It's ridiculous. All of these fashion reality shows are driving me crazy. I've also been sitting on a couch for 2 weeks watching every single show there is. I hate recovery. I am so blessed to BE recovering, but my goodness. Talk about hating to keep still. It's driving me insane, to tell you the truth.

I've had many many visitors and lots of love and I'm thrilled. If there ever was a doubt I had about friends and family, I should be slapped in the mouth. My friends have held me DOWN. It's amazing. My employees are the best. I love everyone and I've stopped taking that narcotic Anna Mae!

The surgery I had is called an Abdominal Myomectomy. http://www.myomectomy.net/abdominal_myomectomy.htm

It's the new black apparently. There is such a large population of women with fibroids it's frightening. Also, my doctor acted like this was as regular as filling a gas tank up. I was out of the hospital in 2 days. I had a lovely morphine drip, perkoset AND vicodin. I hate vicodin. Narcotics stop you up like no body's business. Even as I've stopped taking them, it's driving me bananas.

I also never realized what muscles you use with your stomach. EVERYTHING it seems, with the exception of eye blinking, is affected by my stomach muscles. Laughing, crossing your legs, standing up, sitting down, rolling over. Haven't been able to put on my underwear without help still. I have long legs. Coughing. And the number one thing that would possibly take me out of here, is sneezing. Je-Sus. Lord have mercy. I sneezed and blacked out the pain was so bad. Diebel had to tell me I was okay. I thought everything ripped.

In any event, I love my friends. I love being alive. I'm thankful. So very thankful. A little bummed at the no surf and no sex for a month thing...and it really should be 6 weeks. But, at least I won't have those painful cycles each month.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

FUCK TWITTER

None of my aka's are available.
So no, I won't be twittering.

Sons of bitches.

Monday, April 20, 2009

COOCHIE CONNOISSEUR

So, I'm having this procedure and my gynecologist is also the surgeon. He's super fine. Always has been.
I ask him why he became a gynecologist. Like...what is it that just draws you to...ya know.....he said his father is a gyno and he doesn't know, he's just into uteruses.....(uteri?). Weirdo. But he's single and 37 and uber fine. What if I started dating my doctor? He does surf, so you never know. But someone should write a movie about that....wait, I may have said far too much.

My wonderful home boy and I had an ICHAT convo regarding my procedure this week. Oh single independent woman......

HIM: your date still the 23rd?
ME: yessir, yessir
HIM: nice
ME: very nice
HIM: you're gonna be fine and feel so much better
ME: i can't wait, really I can't. It's 99 degrees here literally

HIM: crazy, wow. thats crazy. Its like monsoon season here

ME: I should have surfed today. went yesterday and I sucked. today sucks too. I don't know why Im trying to do everything in one second like I'm never going to do anything else again. Maybe I'm freaked out about having to be still.

HIM: its natural
ME: My doctor and another friend of mine tell me i have to move to feel better

HIM: And you'll be still for less time than you think

ME: exactly, then i'm ready for my life to be different
HIM: Of course, thats the point. You haven't slowed down in a long time. Now when you start up again you can actually point your self in the direction you wanna go.

ME: So scary. I'm still in planning mode
HIM: ha
ME: How will i have a kid and support it if i can't be on the road

HIM: No, you're just where you're supposed to be

ME: I met a boy who made me think a bit differently about the whole surrogate daddy thing

HIM: how so?

ME: Then spoke with a girlfriend who's adamant about going to a sperm bank. He's a super dad and is primary caretaker of his kids and he's TOTALLY a sacrificer for his family. TOTALLY. Like those supposedly really great characteristics?
and he lives in hawaii
He never wants to go on the road and just wants his family to be proud of him

HIM: wow, cool
ME: And was truly concerned and strongly voiced his opinion about how I shouldn't let my child be raised without it's father
HIM: that sounds like a guy who really loves his family and knows himself
ME: yeah yeah, right. And I have no clue who i am cuz I'm planning my life away. plan plan plan plan plan. blah blah blah
HIM: heheheh
ME: like, planning not to have a daddy around who i'm in love with, planning to have a tour bus with a nursery, planning to do everything by myself

HIM: that sucks. let go
ME: of?

HIM: your pre-conceived notions of what is possible
ME: ok i will

HIM: I'm trying to do the same. I think its a right of passage
ME: i thought we went through this in the early 30's already
HIM: ha, this is like the transition from Sophomore to Junior year
ME: well fuck me. I have senioritis
HIM: don't we all


In other news, I found this website http://ourfriendben.wordpress.com/2009/04/01/more-white-trash-desserts/

What is this fantastic website? It's amazing. That lemonade frozen whipped delight thing will fast become my summer favorite.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

SEXUAL PRIME

My hormones are going retardo.
I'm having hot flashes.
I'm hungry then not hungry.
And I'm horny beyond belief. I feel like the Good Werewolf who hides himself from the moon so as not to hurt any of his loved ones. I am said Werewolf and Lord knows I'm trying so hard not to hurt no body.
I am having a procedure which requires hospital stay and...well, a waiting period on the humps. So I'm on t minus 3 days til show time and I'm scrambling. I have nerve enough to be choosy. And then, the worst part is that I do sort of act like a dude about the whole thing. Call exes, maybe. Act like they are smart and I'm interested in their new relationships. When really, I'm waiting for them to cry into my arms in search of understanding. Sigh. It's a sickness I think. I'm being much easier on myself than I am on dudes who act the same way. I'm being a selfish conniving cunt and it's all because I'm thinking with me cl*t.

There, I said it. I feel so free.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

How NOT to fuck a B Boy

Funny thing about these youngins, and as I've said before, Cougars are made, is that they are persistent little fucks. Just when you clear one "end of the tour" fling with a modest kiss, you go to the next tour and it's the "last show" there too. Mix up the White House and possible Obama sightings, a hot ex who it's better not to fuck, another ex who's a douche bag, and a few bowling games and you've got the perfect scenario to go ahead and get with the 27 year old who's pined after you for so long. Like a reward for holding out. Okay, maybe I'm just pmsing and looking for any reason to get laid. He is cute, but I mean, i've already fucked one person on this particular tour...and while it was a "thing" (or so I thought) and this one wouldn't be, it just seems too risky. Too risky to what? Whom? no one. My psyche and the possibility that tomorrow morning he looks at me weird and I'll have to slap the dogshit out of him on the White House lawn.
Let me resort to my fail safe... Pornhub. That way I can shake the alcohol and the exes all in in one.

New boy doesn't have a chance.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

I THINK WE'RE IN TROUBLE

Boss man saw our little practical joke on the daysheet today. I don't know if it went over well. But I hear I'm not fired, so...I'll just prepare for Drake's retaliation.....keep posted.

CHANGE

I am so sorry for lagging. I have had many exciting adventures that I wanted to blog about but didn't.

Quickly - First Black Eyed Peas show during miami Winter Music Conference. It was bananas. First time seeing old flame. Fuck head. Sitll a fucking douche. Hung out with my beautiful Venezuelan friend who played the perfect quasi-boyfriend. To a T. I need to hire him for outings more often. Great arm candy and smart to boot? Love him. Hung out at Diddy's mansion on star island with the fantastic Miss dream hampton. Fucked a 23 year old cutey patootey....and then made it to Vegas for the Weezy show. I was loving life for 60 hours. LOVING IT.

Lost a mint in Vegas. Fucking Vegas. Fuck Vegas. I hate Vegas.

Got home and all my friends got great seats in LA for a crazy ass LA concert. Jesus, tickets in LA are a beast. A BEAST I tell you. Your whole day is consumed with it. It's amazing. My best home boy brought his "girl". The one who rewards him for his bad behavior -- his quote. Asshole. Love him to death.

Then....went and did a show in hometown, Sacramento. Awesome. Saw my old cheerleader homies. It's amazing how many people become building security guards, right? They are usually fat too. I dunno, just something I noticed.

I got a day home with the grandparents and mommy... my grandma and grandpa love to fuss at each other. They are so funny. I love them.

Then, I played hookie from the Portland show and went straight to Honolulu.
Oh Honolulu. My honoluluan picked me up and it was on and POPPIN. DAMN my surfing got better. I mean, Waikiki has slow rolling waves. Anyone can stand up on them. But it felt good after all the trials in Cali on the cold ass water to have my ass out in warm water standing up. I need to bend my legs better. But whatthefuckever! I can surf! I can surf!

And the hanging out with the Honoluluan....wow. I have never met a more promising man in all of my life. But I can't get into all that....just know that if a nigga comes at you talking about "sacrifice", that's the mothafucka to be down with. Whew. I was so depressed when I left Honolulu, I did what any good independent woman does....I started a fight, cursed him out and broke up with him.

Ahhhhh, some things never change.......

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

OUR IRISH HERITAGE

For St. Patty's day, and the first night of the 2nd leg of the Wayne tour - new set, new costumes, new songs - we bought everyone Guinness Stout. Corny, yes I know. Country boys don't like Guinness. Turns out, since it's all we had, they drank the shit out of that beer.

We started in the management office. Planning, drinking, talking shit, drinking, learning rules of Euro travel, drinking, and the manager and his assistant started having a tete-a-tete here and there. No biggie.

Party moves to my room. I had a good one. Top floor, corner, view , must be shared.

So we started the party. We had port...cheap port, but it was something. Patron. Guinness. Gross combo, right? Indeed. The managers carry their tete-a-tete to the room and a fight ensues. I mean punches thrown, coffee tables moved, pillows knocling the fuck out of people, glasses flying through the air. And the laughter. Oh the laughter. So much laughter. There is nothing better than a fight at a party in my eyes. It's only natural. I mean, good music, free drank, and some bows being thrown? Puhlease. Pass me a cigarette and some dick after that one. I wish I could figure out how to post video.

And it wasn't the only fight! Oh no, there was more. Our pole dancer, as most professional pole dancers, is a gymnast or something. She is VERY strong. Serena-esque. One of the guys embarrassed her or made her mad in some way. In an instant, she ran across the floor and slid into dude. Grabbed his legs with hers and took him down to the floor. Before he could think about what she'd done, she flipped her body, dismantling him altogether and dropped that nigga on his back. She counted out to 3. He was done. She then ran to the couch and pouted. As if to say "See! Why you make me do that!"

It was amazing. I've now found what my new goal is. Wrestling. As if I needed anything else to emasculate a muthafucka.

Just goes to show you what a little Guinness will do. It's amazing. The Irish are drunk by proxy. Like any other enslaved people. We have so much in common. Happy St. Patty's Day to all my Irish Niggas!

Sunday, March 15, 2009

FEMINISTS AND DOMINATION = Real or Sport?

Today I visited the Hollywood Flea Market, my first time amazingly, and there were feminists shouting through a loud speaker about how we need to take down mysogynistic regimes, educate those about Imperialism and it's inherent sexism, and how women are constantly dominated even still in 2009. It was then that I realized....who on Earth could possibly dominate me? I said to my girl, "I wish somebody WOULD dominate me! Who will do that? Who will try? Who won't run away with their tales between their legs." She promptly responded, "you want to be dominated recreationally. Feminists are talking about men subjugating women mentally, physically with money and power." I figure we need to have a meeting of the minds. Women who get dominated, and women who want to be. How do you think and how do we think? I don't mean judge, I mean, really, what is it about you that turns men on? Is it that you just don't say ANYTHING? And then I thought, is that what it takes to be dominated or even married. And then I thought....fuck marriage.
Which is what I've been thinking a lot lately. Particularly since the men who actually "see" me as of late have been 11 years my junior or married.

And those married men. They are the most painful. I had someone tell me today that I would have restrictions in this relationship just as does. As if they were the same. Me traveling for a living. He having a 9 to 5, wife and many, many children. He explained to me that I will have trouble having a relationship with ANYONE until I figure out where I am going to locate and what I am going to do with my career. As if just having this career wasn't enough. He said that unless the man I am going to be with is on the road with me, it will be impossible to have a relationship. Why thank you Lord Man. I guess that would be domination and I guess my response would be why I ain't married.

I know people who have long distance relationships. They work for awhile and then people decide to move to either side of the country, whichever state, etc. The fact that he equated a long distance relationship to an affair bothered the dog shit out of me. What fucking nerve. And since I'm working on my "please-dominate-me" skills - one being, watch what you say, I kindly stated that those two were not equal. The question of relocating vs cheating were two totally different things. One is the drama you may look forward to while the other was a detriment to my soul. "Oh, I understand. I think it's a bit presumptuous for you to think I have some sort of expectation of you when this is pretty impossible." Really nigga? Duh. I guess it sounded better coming out of his mouth.

Fucking annoying.

I still wish somebody COULD dominate me. I would like them to at least try. I would like them to nevermind what I do for a living, someone who isn't married, I mean, and honestly assess relationship versus power play.

And they ALL do it. They do. It's in them. They can't help themselves. I asked my best friend to be a sperm donor for me and all of a sudden I had to move to another state. Maybe that was an attempt at domination and I shut it down? Hmmm.

Okay, my girl is right. I want recreational domination.