OSLO

Nobel Peace Prize ceremony and I have 2 outfits. The Halston or the Marco Marco. I think I want to go with the Marco Marco. I only wore it for Christmas 2 years ago. And it does not need ironing. And it's black and sparkly. Decisions decisions.

Amsterdam kicked my ass and I didn't even smoke that much. I think that's just it, I can't smoke that much. All I want to do is lay in this bed and read a book. Research new clients. Research paint techniques for my new crib. And then nothing. I have a lovely view from my 32nd floor window of Oslo, there's a bridge from this hotel directly to the venue, and there's some bar lounge thingy on the 34th floor. It's safe to say I ain't goin no where. Not to mention, it's fucking 18 degrees here. Fuck. That. Shit.

And another thing, why did I say I wanted to go to Paris after this? 2 weeks is the perfect amount of time to tour. That is plenty. I'm ready to come home.

Old Bitches Need They Money Too

I'd like to stay awhile and study the red light district. How is the Commerce set up? Like is it divided by race? Class? Countries? Would there be an Eastern European Row? Africa Aisle? Orient Alley? Palestinean Passageways? I was trying to study this last evening and yet not look them in their eyes. Sometimes I'm good in the Red Light, other times, I'm grossed out and hellsa uncomfortable. Last night I was somewhere in between. Wednesday night! The night that the hot girls must be off because I gotta tell ya....I wasn't afraid to look in the cute girls eyes...but the grandmas and Aunt Eloise were shockingly grave. Even the sex show tonight didn't have it's normal spark. It's like Caesars in Atlantic City. Drab faces, coming to work, work, leave. Sexy was left at the marquis. It's bad enough they bring their purse up on stage. I know it houses all of their tricks, but it takes away from the stage presence no? Further? wheres the Lysol? Who's wiping down that pole? What in the hell is underneath this pew?
Okay, I may be getting too old for Amsterdam. Or I'm still high.

PARIS

mmmm, this is truly, as we know, one of my favorite cities in the world. The promise of love and/or wild passionate events seems available on every corner. Seriously. I went to see Ayo and Imany. So much talent in France. I would love to sit here and work with a few artists on a few ways to execute. Meanwhile, as we all attract a certain type, I've attracted yet another handsome musician. Silver and black hair - a plus. Morroccan, barely any English, all the things that make me smile. Comes time to give me a ride home and would you believe there are not one but TWO car seats in his car....one turned backwards because, well, there is obviously a new baby.

"Dude, serioux?"
"please, permittez-moi expliquer"
"Child, s'il te plait. Il n'est pas necessaire pour expliquer. You's a nigga that's all. I know your kind well. Rue Bagnolet please."

Fishing For Low-eys

I learned a new term from the boys in which I co-habitate on the road. What are "Low-eys"? The women with the lowest self esteem who will be the easiest to give it up. Cold blooded you may say? Insightful. How does one compartmentalize so well? Is that the key to a good relationship? Why fight it? I dunno. But is it any wonder??!?

London

The last time I was at the K West , Deebs and I were hanging with Amy Winehouse and dude....Blaine right? Anyway, our promoter is Amy's manager. It was a great show yet melancholic when seeing him that first time. He no doubt brought us buckets of champagne to thank us for the evening. Braxton showed off. 4100 people. A place that's impossible to get to front of house. You would need a security guard. They don't mark off the floor and have people stay in the middle to provide a walkway. I'm not sure why. Thats some hood shit.

This time the K West lobby housed sir Bobby Womack with his girlboy. Beautiful Girl, just needs a little refinement....take some of that boy out her. Anyway, Womack was talking shit about smoking weed on tour throughout the world. Something we all benefited from.

The other Thing i remembered about the K West was the influx of international business men that one may find in the bar. So, a Spaniard, a Greek Australian, and a Sri Lankan American dude from Oakland walk into the bar. They sit next to me inspite of my bevy of black musicians who surrounded me. I figured, these boys are game. The Spaniard was older...my type, silver haired, and spoke slow rolling English. I said a curse word and think I ruined that one, plus he wasn't quick to the buy the drinks. He just kept asking why there were no women with me. Motherfucker asked too many questions if ya ask me. Then there was the tall Greek Australian. He was married so counted him out. He asked a lot of questions too. There was then the short cute, young Sri Lankan from Oakland who spoke slightly like E 40. Thank Goodness he was Sri Lankan. Oakland in London may be special but lacked originality for this Californian girl, last person I want to hook up with in a foreign country is someone I can run into at a bar when everyone goes home for the holidays.

Turns out K West only allows residents to order drinks towards the end of the night. I became popular real quick.

Sri Lanka was relentless. Nice to know an old gal still got it.

I kick him out early however and go to the weed room. Girlboy knocks on the door and joins the smoke circle. She regaled us withna tory about how her man master threw a glass at her and she had to dot him. " you knocked Bobby Womack out?" funny but she killed the mood. No orgies forthcoming with THAT one. I mean really, who knocks an old drunk high man out?

Moving right along....
I've started a work out regiment since my arrival. My trainer thinks im a narcissistic ego maniac, i think he is a sadisical tyrrant who has a crush on me and hence is trying to murder me. Let's see what these 2 weeks do to my ass.

Occupy Dis P#$^y

I think Iggy Azalea should write a song about "Occupying dis....." Occupy dis and Occupy dat. Since there is so much occupying going on these days. I'm in the UK occupying space on this tour. All men on this tour. All black men in fact....maybe 2 white guys who have been around for ages. But we continuously have these town hall meetings , last night in my room, on the state of black america. One of the guys is so gung ho "African American" and was annoyed that some of us used the word black to identify ourselves. It's cool cause I was annoyed he used African American...especially over here where it doesn't play out to be the most accurate statement. We went on to how much longer it was going to take us to get out from the shackles of slavery. This we all said while puffing blunts in my suite, in Manchester. I turned on my ipod using the provided bose system to Jimi Hendrix because i knew this convo was going to be long. "WHy it's going to take us at least half the time of slavery to break from the bondage, just like it takes a woman half the time she was in a relationship to get over it". Seriously? One of them said this while adjusting his Montcler puffy coat. Its freezing after all here in Manchester. "And we need to advise our children of the past so they know what they are looking at in the future". I told them entitled priviledged negros to get out of my room and take their montclers, dutch masters, Ipods, Ipads and other 1% shit and keep it pushing.

300 years of slavery.