Sol-Angel and the Hadley Street Dreams

Okay, so this is where we decide whether or not we love Sol-Angel and the Hadley Street Dreams," otherwise known as Solange Knowles' thirteen track soliloquy on how she is not her sister. Well.... DUHHHHH!!!!! The way I figure it, the lady dost protest too much. Honestly, I love the album. **peeking around to see I anyone caught that on tape** I love every single song on it. But what I don't so much love is how every time I start bobbing my head to the beat or closing my eyes to appreciate the surprising depth of her sound, she tosses in some not-so-subtle reference to Beyonce. And when she's not mentioning my beloved Bey, she's shouting out some unbelievably coonish shit like "I promise I'm not high!"

**blinkblinkblink**

Err?

Come on, Solange. Perhaps if YOU stopped comparing yourself to your older, established, quite talented sister, perhaps everyone else would too! There's plenty of room for both of you- especially since NOTHING about this album reminds me AT ALL of anything Beyonce ever wrote and/or sang. So chill, my sister.... do your thing.

Besides, who can hate on an album that has such priceless inside cover art? There's a picture of Solange standing between two white boards that read "I will not have a famous family" and "I will not get pregnant at 17" written over and over again. LMFAO!!!!!! Love in a CD case :) And the best part OF ALL... that bad boy was only $6.98!!! Yes ma'am and/or sir: as in six dollars and ninety eight cents. I can't figure out of that is Target trying to play her on the low and discounting her shit before it's even settling on the shelf good or.... Well, that's pretty much the only scenario I arrived at. **sigh** Ah well. Get that money, Solo.

How YOU Doin?

If you know me, you know my passion for messy, loud, inappropriately RIDICULOUS foolishness. And hence, the newest, MOST FAVORITE addition to my wardrobe:

Aw'riiiiiiiiiiiiiiight!!!!!!!!!

Then... and Now

"I want you. Real talk. Like we used to back in the day."

Back in the day.
**Disclaimer: creative license has been invoked on some of the dialogue because I am old as hell and can't be expected to remember every single word of every conversation I had back then.**

I am looking at him across the table, trying to keep my knees from trembling. What the fuck? I KNOWWWWW that I am not trippin over this date. It's a date. A DATE. Like any other date. But wait, I don't go on dates. Maybe that's why I'm trippin. Yeah, yeah, that's it. Surely it's not the fact that he keeps looking at me like he can see right through me. Nah, couldn't be. And it surely isn't because he keeps licking his lips which ordinarily would make me laugh at the pure wackness of it all, but on him, it just makes me wonder what those lips taste like. Nah, never that. Well, whatever the reason is, this boy has me pressing my knees together under the table to keep them from shaking the silverware. **sigh** This one is going to be tough.

Man, it's cold out here. Thank God I parked my car right in front of the door because otherwise I might freeze before I make it to those wonderfully heated seats. I wonder if.... Aww what the hell... "Hop in, let me give you a ride to your car. It's too cold out here for you to walk." Said the spider to the fly... **snicker** Who am I kidding? As much as I would like to think that I have the upper hand in this situation, I sooooo do not. This little boy has me wrapped around every single one of his fingers and the worst part of all is that he seems to know it. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. You know if you don't breathe, you'll like die or something, right? Good girl. Okay here's his car. Is he gonna get out without even trying to kiss me goodnight? That would suck MASSIVELY. "Well, this was fun. We should do it again some time." And he EXTENDS HIS HAND. Yeah, like we just closed some sort of high-powered business deal or something. Seriously? I just went out on a date for the first time in I can't even remember how long, and this child is going to shake my hand???? NO SIR. I simply will not go out like that. "You know, life is a gamble. You really should take some chances." He cocked his head to the side like he was regarding some sort of creature that just landed from outer space. "Worrrrd? Well okay." And he leans in.

And then I died.

Yep, right there in the front seat of my truck in the parking lot of my favorite restaurant in the icy middle of November. I died.

That was, quite possibly, the best kiss I have ever had IN MY LIFE. Better than my first kiss (not even a comparison). Better than the first kiss from The Ex (and that was a good one). This kiss was the kind that makes you stop in the middle and say "wait wait wait... hold on a minute" just so you can catch your breath. The kind of kiss that you pull away from and have to check your wallet to remember your name. Yeah, that's right. The name you've had since you were- oh I don't know- BORN. That was how this boy kissed me. Now I'm sitting here looking at him looking at me, trying to figure out how I can get him out of my car before my jeans unzip themselves and he never calls me again after tonight. Now everybody knows that I am not the "one night stand" kind of girl. I'm the shy girl. I'm the girl who looks down at the floor when a man looks at her because she can't bear the idea of being the center of attention. But tonight, I would SOOOOOO turn into someone else. Tonight I would be the girl who turns the key in the ignition and drives home with the boy in her car while promising vaguely to bring him back to get his "some time tomorrow." Tonight I am the girl who- if this boy kisses me one more time- might just melt into a puddle on the floor.

You know the kind of kisses where he (or she- whatever you like!) grabs your face in both hands and kisses you until you forget where you are? Or when he puts his hand on your jawline right under your ear and kinda pulls you toward him while his fingers are in your hair and just.... HANDLES YOU? Yeah, well... that was that kiss. And every one after that for the next three hours. Because the boy that I wasn't even supposed to give my real phone number to just got me sprung, and I haven't even seen below the belt. He had me pinned to the driver's door of my truck at 1:00 in the morning for three hours and all we were doing was kissing. KISSING. This boy was kissing me like.... like he could see into my brain and knew exactly what I liked, exactly what it would take to get me where he wanted me.

And now it's now. We've done some things and seen some people and been some places. But all I really want to say to him is "I want you. Real talk. Like we used to do it back in the day."

Solange

Although I am a tad bit ashamed to admit this, I am looking forward to Solange's new album at the end of the month. But when I saw this video on Media Takeout, I positively ROARED with laughter!!! Enjoy..

"I'm pretty sure I have to get out of Texas immediately. Why? Because this 11 year old is in here talking about his shotgun! And as a nigga, I feel I should flee!"

That made my day. And, as such, I felt compelled to share it with you. Now... What else can I make a list about? *told yall this was a long day*

"Reasons Why You and Me Could Never Be Us"
*the 'you' is actually several different people, so take it where it applies to you*

1. Because.

2. Because I said so.

3. NO NIGGA!!! You canNOT convince me that I'm wrong!

4. Because you preach to me like you're John the Motherflippin Baptist! I go to church too, ya know? Me and JC happen to be on a first name basis. So... bite me. Besides, something about you and that illegitimate daughter you had with the jumpoff who's been after you since college (12 years ago) tends to cut into your moral credibility just a bit. I'm just sayin...

5. Because you sent me a text message that said "cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war.". **blink** Whaaa??? What the hell does that even mean? And... **throwing up my hands** THAT is precisely why.

6. Because you know me like I know me... sometimes. Okay, okay!! All the time! But whatever though.

7. Because I'm too damn tall for the fetal position.

8. Because I'm scared of your mama... but not too scared to make jokes about Miss Carrie Pearl and Uncle Herb and dem... Tell them elders to hook up my hot link, and I MIGHT lay off the jokes.

9. Because we just spent two (three?) hours texting questions back and forth just because we're both too damn competitive to give up and quit. But for real though... Can I?

10. Because I'm a cougar. And I'm sure to kill your young ass before it's all said and done.

11. Because I'm scared of your girlfriend- I think she could whip my ass even though she's 4'2" and 100 pounds. Remember that time she almost yoked the waitress because she wasn't moving fast enough with the sushi? **smh**

12. Because it's so much more fun this way! Yay! Buddakan/FourSeasons/Castle Spa New York/Charles'/Amy Ruth's/mimosas/Caliente Cab/margaritas/GUACAMOLE!!!!

"Things You Should Never Say to the Pharmacist"

Oh yall HAD to know that this was coming... I have worked 20 hours so far this weekend and it's been ages since one of my Pharmacy Follies. So, for your chuckling pleasure...

1. "Is there anybody back here??" (said while rapping on the counter with your knuckles and simultaneously looking STRAIGHT at me). My response to this? A quick look over both shoulders and then a very exaggerated raising of the eyebrows, followed by "guess not!"

2. "Yeah so... what can I take over the counter for gonorrhea?". Now those of you who love me and speak to me often have heard this story before. But for those of you who have not yet had the pleasure... My response to this was "umm... Vagisil."

3. "I know this bottle says no refills, but I've been without my medicine for 8 days and I need it today. You need to give me some until Monday.". Now mind you, today is Sunday. My response? "Well, kind ma'am, since you've been without them for 8 days, what constituted an emergency today?". Her comeback? "I don't need you to tell me about no Constitution! I just needs me my pills NOW!!!". Do you suppose I gave them to her?

4. "If I get pregnant because you wouldn't refill my birth control pills, it's gonna be YOUR fault!"

**blink**

No ma'am, it won't. But here are a variety of other factors you can blame: the shittiness of summer TV giving you nothing better to do than fuck; your super virile sex partner; your dumb ass GYN who only gave you one refill on a script that you'll be using FOREVER; or... and I know this is a tough one... YOUR STUPID BEHIND for waiting through an entire week of sugar pills to call in a refill of a medication that you can CLEARLY read has NO REFILLS!!!

5. Any variety of "you're stupid/dumb/incompetent/ineffective/useless.". Excuse me, kind sir, but insulting me is the fastest way to end up with amoxicillin dust in your medicine bottle even though your profile clearly says "penicillin allergy.". I have one basic rule at work: disrespect me, and you get the EXACT OPPOSITE of what you want. So you can stand there screaming obscenities at me until my boyfriend Barack Obama moves into the White House, but your limp dick husband will still not be getting his happy pills.

The End Result of Boredom in the Workplace

It's Sunday. I'm bored. Shouldn't I be at church? Thank you for asking! Yes, I should. But alas, I am shackled to the pharmacy counter. So since I am here and you are there, thereby making it functionally impossible for us to have any real fun, I've decided to make some lists. Now, before you say it, yes, I know that this is not an original idea. And yes I am aware that by listing for the next several hours, it may appear that I am swinging from the nuts of the most prolific writer of our time (La, in case you didn't get the memo), but I assure you: I am not. Just because we eat the same food, buy the same shoes, parent the same dog, utter the same ascerebic witty euphemisms, and generally are the same person doesn't NECESSARILY mean that we are lovah lovahs... Yeah, YOU **jabbing at the blogosphere** you out there with the lesbianic daydreams of X+La=endless hours of"personal time"... You know who you are. Besides, Tayqwan would sooooo hit a woman. **looking both ways for the locs so I can HAUL ASS!!!!**

Anyway.... The following is my own personal list of "Things You Should NOT Have Time to Do if Your Piece is in Town." Allow me to explain. Boo time is for three things: eating, drinking, and... well you know. This is especially true if said boo lives more than 100 miles away and must only make previously scheduled appearances. So if you are doing any of the following things (or hell, anything other than the aforementioned three things), then you are in violation.

1. Think that it's okay to try that new thing you saw in Hustler... whatever it may be. For the same reason that men should not be allowed to watch porn, thou shalt not violate this rule. I promise that if it doesn't land you with a strange feeling in your rear and an inexplicable scar on your back in the emergency room, you'll be lucky. Just say no to the last 5 pages of Hustler.

2. Decide that you want to become celibate for "religious reasons." This is the quickest way to guarantee that you'll be celibate for... I don't know EVER. No man (or hell, woman) is gonna travel more than an hour to see their S.O. and there isn't ass of some sort involved (still waiting for you to Facebook that one, love!). So send up a quick word to Jesus and then trim up them pubes... He understands that the flesh is weak!

3. Spend the entire time debating politics. This generally isn't the best idea under ordinary circumstances, but most definitely not during a once-a-month fuckfest gentle week-long lovemaking session. So unless Barack and Michelle will be joining you in the jacuzzi for a foursome (in which case I say debate ON!), keep the CNN to a minimum.

4. Forget to tell your OTHER significant other that you're unavailable for the weekend. Because nothing ruins a good salad tossing lovemaking session more than the untimely arrival of your in-town piece in a trench coat... especially if he/she enters with their own key. So to avoid bloodshed and inevitable trips to the county jail, handle yo handle.

5. Forget to take off work. That happened to me once, so I might be just a touch bitter. I went to see my S.O. for 10 days and he was on call for five (36 hour shifts). Nice, right? Ah well.... Fill out your paperwork.

6. Be out of town. Yeah... about that. "Babe I'm at the door- how come you're not answering?". "The door? To my house? In ________ (insert your town here). Umm... I'm in _________ (insert anywhere else)!"

7. Invite them to a meeting of your cult. Now this should be self explanatory, but I've found that usually people who are in a cult are resistant to such a label. So if your "pastor" insists that he be called "Daddy" by the membership and you're living in your car but Daddy has a house on the hill, perhaps you should revisit your church affiliation. And by NO MEANS should you subject your boo to such foolishness. Surely he/she will take exception to the fact that they caught you blowing Daddy paying your tithes in the back yard. I'm just sayin...

8. Take them to a gay club... Unless yall have already established that you're into all that. Cause while I might be the most open-minded chick in the game, you best believe that there is nothing sexy to me about every man in the place knowing you by your middle name!

9. Call/text/IM/go to visit your friends. If you wanna hang with your friends, send your boo home. Everybody who's anybody in your life knows you're boo'd up for the weekend.

Because like I said, if you aint eating, drinking, or _________ (insert your choice of pet name for sex), then YOU'RE IN VIOLATION!!!!

**Sigh**

Okay, God... if you say so. There must be a reason. So I'll trust you.


Sometimes you're just so grateful that you can't even articulate what it is that you're grateful for. This song speaks to that better than I ever could...


And Marvin.... you better sing this song.