Archive for July, 2008

Thank You for Being a Friend

That was the last thing that Biskit said to me before I got out of his car as he dropped me off for work this morning. 

That was it. “Thank you for being our friend.”

I didn’t cry. I got really close – that little sonofabitch very nearly got me – but not close enough for full on waterworks.

I had parted with Tea just an hour earlier, which was equally hard, but neither of us being fond of goodbyes, we kept it short and sweet. That’s how we roll.

Biskit and Tea, THANK YOU. For game nights. For letting me sleep on your sofa when my hypochondria was kicking in. For not beating me up when I told all of our friends that Tea had an anal prolapse (even though that wasn’t true.) For ensuring that my life as a single fella wasn’t miserable or whorish, but fun. And for giving an overwhelming stamp of approval when my life as a single fella ended for good when I met Zilla.

Thank you for dinners all around the West End. Thank you for always indulging me on dessert following the aforementioned dinners. 

Thank you for listening to me vent, for watching movies that I loved and you all secretly thought were lame. Thank you for laughing at my jokes even though most of them weren’t really that funny. For giving me clothes. And plants. And AIDS. (Okay, not really on the AIDS part.)

Thank you for introducing me to Pama. For being great company on so many trips to Chicago …  Cozumel … New Orleans … Belize …

For hugging me after bad dates and high-fiving me after good ones. For birthday cake milkshakes and hugs that only the two of you could give the right way.

For taking care of not just me – but all of us – really. Your home was always one that was so welcoming, no matter what time it was. 

For letting me shower in your house after my water went out for 72 hours, and for not complaining that I smelled. For never mentioning that my house smelled like cat litter, even though sometimes it did.

For making me look like a wreck from crying as I write this post.

For tasty stuffed mushrooms. Delicious tenderloin. Chocolate covered cherries and even just plain cherries straight out of the jar. For letting me take so many pictures of all of us, no matter where we were – those are so so precious to all of us now.

But really – and most importantly – just thank you so much for being you guys. For being my dear dear dear friends. 

(and for the job in Minneapolis that you’ve all but promised me. I’m holding you to that, and I’m ready to move when you say the word.)


July 31, 2008 at 2:54 pm 2 comments

B.A.P.S. (Black American Princess) – Disney Style

So I saw this trailer for “The Princess and the Frog” online earlier. (It’s short – it’s like one minute long. Watch it.)

Here’s my thing – big kudos to Disney for finally having a black heroine. I do kind of wonder if she’ll have parents, given Disney’s penchant for single-parent households. Ironically, it would be a nice little kick in the teeth for white America to show a beautiful, black princess living in America with two great parents in direct opposition of the single parent households of Ariel, Snow White, Cinderella and Belle.

I digress.

Anyway … this trailer definitely makes me want to see this movie. The southern setting of New Orleans paired with a bluesy kind of soundtrack definitely make this one a must-see for me.

That said … well, just watch this. Tell me if I’m not the only one who is slightly uncomfortable with the little firefly at the end of the trailer. Granted, everyone’s a little bit racist sometimes, but really, Disney, really? A messed up grill, ebonics and a ba-donka-donk? 

Hrm. Let’s hope the princess gets to slay racist stereotypes in this movie and not just make out with a frog.

July 30, 2008 at 7:01 pm Leave a comment

Let’s Go Back to Sleep

Why must he get out of bed?

Sometimes when he wakes up before I do, he kisses me on the forehead as he gets out of bed to fix the coffee that he needs in order to survive the morning.

I usually roll over, half-asleep, grasp at the warmness that is still left in the bed, and cozy up to the pillow that still smells like him … sometimes it’s cologne … sometimes it’s his shampoo … sometimes it’s just the soft smell of his skin. But always, always, always … it is him.

There are few things in the world that are as precious to me as the pillow that he’s slept on. If it’s at my house, it can be guaranteed that as I fall asleep, I am cuddling with that pillow until I can see him again. If it’s at his house, it’s certainly a joy, because I’ve just woken up next to him.

Mornings can be cruel in general, but the hardest moment for me every day is when he slowly begins to wiggle out of my sleepy embrace to start his day.

July 29, 2008 at 3:00 pm 1 comment

Lube Lube Lubbity Lube


The offender.

The offender.

Exhausted after a weekend of much drinking, eating maraschino cherries out of the jar, making out with my superhot boyfriend (and yeah, if you’re single, I’m totally rubbing that in your face cuz I’m a bitch like that!) and moving furniture to not one, but two houses, it goes without saying that today – ghastly Monday – was a difficult one to start.

I woke up, peeled the cat off my face, gasped for air as I so often do during allergy season, and realized that somehow or another I’d woken up minus the pajama bottoms I’d slept in and missing a sock.

Still half asleep and stumbling to avoid the cat version of the Indy 500 taking place in my hallway, I manage to snarf down a bowl of Count Chocula (hellz yeah!), put on clothes, and head to the bathroom to fix my hair.

In the midst of chastising Noodles the cat for trying to steal my toothbrush, I pick up a squeezy-tube, squirt it on my hand, and apply to the hair to make it all messy and spiky and such. 

‘Cept this didn’t feel right. Not like it usually does. Instead of feeling like crazy glue, this stuff felt like … mucus.

And my hair looked like an oil slick, complete with dying baby seals and distraught seagulls.

I look toward the sink to see what terrible concoction had caused this early morning disaster … and there it was.

A tube of KY jelly.

I had lubed my own head. (And not the one that I usually enjoy lubing.)


I washed my hair not once, but twice, to get the moisturized feeling out of it. It’s still fouled up hours later.

That said … I could potentially qualify today for the title of “World’s Largest Dildo.”

Nuff said.

July 28, 2008 at 8:12 pm Leave a comment

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