now accepting donations

my wife NEEDS these chanel shades!!!

oldie but goodie

i try some gangsta shit every now and again. american apparel knows. this however, poopies on my gangster. for sure.

peep this SEVEN year old:




tanx, raqui!

there's nothing good about this picture

if you look to the rh side of this photo, you'll notice a young tod being pulled on a leash by his mom holding down a coupla extra pounds and a toys r us bag.

there's nothing good about leashes or extra weight. not never.

at the end of each episode of Run's House

we watch them go to sleep.

sooo ... do Rev and Justine ever have sex?

if only for the magenta suit

lookin' gooooood esco

i told this bitch to do jazz hands

and she gave me chicken noodle soup
let's go see this waterfall bullshit
it's hot as hell out here
this is it? it's heinous.
i like it. it looks cool.
im over it. let's go see the one by the bridge.
:sprinkles:
FUCK my hair. is it the waterfall?
no ho, that's rain, i got an umbrella.
:side eyes umbrella:
don't give up on it. it works.
i'd never get married in a limo. limos are disgusting.
chinese ppl love to get married down here by the bridge.
and this ho havin a qunicinera? im havin a quincinera! fuck that.
i would like to leave. im hot.
we can get on the 25 bus.
this shit aint coming for another hour.

do you mind moving over so my friend can sit down?
this train aint made for fat people.
that woman prolly heard him say that. he's fucking rude.
you know i always notice the people getting up on the train are women.
and the niggas just sit down and look at you like YOU crazy.
chivalry aint shit.

play "that's the way love goes"
dancing.
remember when janet did this? and smiled like this? and did this dance? and jlo did this?
i fucks with janet hardbody.

"again" plays.
i miss tupac.

and i love 'kinha.

taken from a great place.

We all have tattoos already, of course. They’re our stories, our mental scars. The things we carry around with us, just under the surface. Your first breakup is always there, just around the corner in every relationship that comes after. Tattoos like this may not be seen, but they’re just as permanent.

…

Life is about collecting scars. Some of the scars are internal, some are external. Some you show to the world, some just to the ones you love. Some are forced upon you, and some you choose. It’s the collecting that’s important. If you don’t have scars, you’re not living. -dp-

and after that...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

Derek Walcott

thank you.

persephone: margarita is WHERE?

i'm rocking bammas in dc, young - big fat joke. in real life, i've been kicking it in DC for the past couple of days and having a grand old time doing it. my first full day in town i couldn't have asked for a bettter welcome than a tour of the quadrants featuring wale blaring through a car radio. just SWEET. haha. but really, i keep telling everyone how relaxed i've felt since i've been down here. i guess it's just the vibe over in these parts. certainly.

considering the humidity that has since puffed my hair and contributed to my sweat glands working on overtime, i have enjoyed every bit of getting to know the city and its heavy cultural influences. over on 14th street, i visited busboys and poets, an adorable langston hughes inspired cafe, where i read poems upon poems along its walls. i was lucky to get a peak into a few of the portrait museum's galleries which featured the work of superstars, including aaron douglas and contemporary hip hop photographer david scheinbaum. i'm wholly impressed and absorbing it all. it helps that most museums in the city are federally funded and therefore are free to the public! plus, im loving that everyone is so darn nice here. i can't imagine i would find this detail any more apparent if i hadn't been living back home in ny for the past month where i've grown accustomed to the jaded, sharp shooters that make it complete. i've experienced a pleasant contrast. the woman at the sprint store allowed me to fill a glass of water from her back office when i was parched, i watch as cars patiently wait for pedestrians to cross and even smile as they wave them across the street, and have noticed that people are generally super polite.

i'm excited to see what more the city has to offer. headed to georgetown for lunch. fat shout to my gtown alumni comrades/cobloggers!

in the meeeantime, this is has been playing on heavy rotation in my neural speakerbox. enjoy!

U.N.I.T.Y.

it's happening right now, babygirls!

"just some vintage yves i picked up today"

(overheard at my 1000-degree apt last night over a glass of smoking loon)

we can be found sweating over vegan dinners or chugging veuve in courtney love's hotel room. i love this bitch so much!

genius!

(kanye and pharrell at the louis vuitton menswear presentation in paris.)

'ye is rocking a button of MJ's mugshot!!!! can you see it?? sooo perfect and sooo my style! y'all bitches don't even know, but i kidnapped a buttonmaker last year and made many celeb shots - including one of my wife!

Gapz Passion

a present for my boyfriend. i don't care too much about a kelly rowland really. she looks nice though! dress by emerging London designer Kosibah.

a most righteous babygirl

zoe kravitz. love it All. per usual.

it's gettin a little chilly ...

Hell shall Freeze Over When :

diddy has Santa's belly and a water bottle for a penis, Weezy has Meth face, and Kim is the most normal looking motherfucker in the pic.......
When Sanaa Lathan ...... (i don't have the heart)
when Nelly and Ashanti look like a normal/cute couple! ....
and Kim and Puff gaze adoringly into one another's eyes. The Wrong Ass Kim!!!

all fuckery above from Stephen Hill's BET Awards after party

this weekend, chase waterfalls

new yorkers (and wannabes alike) know by now that mayor michael bloomberg don't stick to the rivers and the lakes that we used to, and god bless him for it. he has long adopted and aggressively promoted innovative and progressive new policies and public programs for new york city (see anti-poverty initiative, NYC condoms and greeNYC) that have challenged conventional thinking on public policy and, with varying degrees of success, improved the lives of the 8 or so milli who call NYC home. he has also been a strong supporter of public art projects in the city, both in principle--to enrich the everyday lives of working new yorkers--and as a way to draw more tourist dollars to the city. remember the gates? the whimsy of it all was just what depressed february in new york needed - and i luhhh those bitches christo and jean claude! the project generated an estimated $200+ milli in economic activity - for central park vendors, carriage drivers, and much more.

well bloomberg is back at it with another avant garde artist by his side. yesterday, icelandic artist olafur eliasson and mayor bloomberg unveiled new york city waterfalls, a $15 milli project presented by the public art fund and the city of new york. these manmade waterfalls draw water from the east river up through pipes to the top of bridges and buildings around the ny harbor to be poured back into the east river and recycled through the falls.

i think public art is the best kind of art - accessible to all, and perhaps no real meaning but to make life in the city just a little bit more interesting and a little bit more beautiful.

what this week was like for me

i drank a bottle of wine last night for dinner. july 4-GET HERE.

UPDATE: it actually was more like this:

one week and counting:

my glock is safe!

the people of D.C., however, are NOT.

perfection

kim lookin' alllllll kinds of fabulous (in tyra's wig) at the BET awards.

you already know...

...that miss trina was workin' that brand new, piping hot LV monogramouflage at the BET awards last night!

get it, girl!

they really brought out the crazies today...

everyday i get off of work, i take the S2 to the 90 bus. there are certain things i always know will happen. the s2 will always be standing room only full of a bunch of interns. and the 90 bus.... well it goes down florida ave/u street so it will be full of grade A degenerates. today's episode featured a gang of pre-op transvestites, 3-4 handicapped people (mostly physical but for sure some mental), 5 baby mamas, 10 slightly dirty (yet very cute) kids, we'll say 2 each baby mama, one ambiguously homeless couple, a woman with a bun all of 1x1 millimeters around, 2.7 crackheads and a loud talker (the overweight lady in some security uniform saying 'hey nook nook!' out the window at every stop).

and then there is me. the only black person on the bus who looked like they had even seen a job in months. same goes for the day i was in court. why in the hell are black bus riders so damn sketchy!?

oh it ain't just me... you were thinkin it!

what a real old head looks like.

New York Magazine interviews Gil Scott-Heron in this week's issue. I was excited to read about someone so revered by those artists that I respect. Mos Def, Talib Kweli, Dead Prez - all recognize him as the godfather of Hip Hop. "I aint saying I didn't invent rapping," he says, "I just cannot recall the circumstances." NY Mag speaks with him in the Harlem railroad apartment he's lived in since 1999. They discuss his work, his challenges with drug use, (chronicled through a number of his songs like "Angel Dust" and "Home Is Where the Hatred Is") his declining health (he's been HIV-positive for several years). Most important, though, he's attempting a comeback. He has assembled some of his old bandmates to record a new album and is playing some shows this summer. Click Here for the full story:

just in time for bikini season:

Graceful Services, a midtown Manhattan spa, has introduced the Breast Lifting Treatment. In a $100, 80-minute session, the 'pectoralis major and pectoralis minor are massaged, excess lymph fluid is drained, and a cream and mask are applied.' "It even makes the nipples turn up again," promises the spa's owner, Grace Macnow.

while i don't necessarily need my breasts enlarged, it might be nice to have someone rub on my titties for 80 minutes. ....... im just sayin tho ......

Monet Expected to Auction for Record 24 Million Pounds

so these days, that's almost ... mmm ... 48 million dollars. Got to see this right? So Did I.

not sure who peeped this on YBF last week.

Hov in London watching Chris Martin get busy.
through magnifying glasses .....

(well, let's hope they do something .... )

Dear Ice T,

Fuck you.

The debate here - due to your ignorance and immature approach - is no longer about the state of Hip Hop. I would not choose to listen to a song like "Superman." Songs like that, today, do nothing for me. That said, in 1995 songs like 'Jump' by Kris Kross did it all. I knew every word. Soulja Boy did not make Superman for you. So he is not wack for making that song. You are wack for listening to it. And the music, motherfucker, is the least of your concerns. You told an 18 year old boy to "EAT A DICK." You are not a mentor. You are not an 'old head.' You are not respectable. You are an embarassment. If I may stoop to your level of communication, you are a bitch-made, bitter piece of shit. Soulja Boy said it well when he replied that 'if you have a problem with what i'm doing, teach me. show me something better.' you sound DUMB AS HELL, 49 years old talkin about you're getting phone calls from niggas asking you 'we gon' war? there gonna be a war?' Over a song you don't like?! A video that an 18 year old made on YouTube?! Maybe there is something to be said for songs like "Superman" then, right? 18, having fun and making money. Not 49 with nothing better to fight for.

If Soulja Boy said it well, than Kanye just blogged it best:

"If that ain't Hip Hop then what is? A bunch of wannabe keep it real rappers that ain't even relevant, recycling samples trying to act like it's 96 again and all they do is hate on new shit? Niggas always talk about the golden age but for a 13 year old kid, this is the golden age!!! That song was so dope cause everything he said had a hidden meaning… that's Nas level shit… he just put it over some steel drums which is also some Nas shit if you had the 2nd album cassette with the bonus track "Silent Murder" on it. In closing… new niggas get ya money$$$$$$$$$$ Keep this shit fresh and original…. ain't no fuckin' rules to this shit and that's what real hip hop is to me."

Raus taken?

kill yourselves, babygirls.

the biggest boss we've seen thus far is ENGAGED to that doo doo brown chick (sorry na na, we fucks with kim here)!

shit ain't confirmed, of course, but those ubiquitous "sources" told hip-hop weekly that bg moved into raus's MIA manse AND that the couple are planning (or were) to announce their engagement at the BET awards.

i didn't even know the two were dating, but perez also reported the rumor, and he don't usually fuck around with bullshit like that. i'm happy for them tho. sure, foxy may not be half as fly as the chick in the vid below, but she's somewhat of a boss herself, and he's obviously the biggest catch we've seen thus far, so good for her.

congrats and best wishes to the both of you, bgs!




and yes, you should still kill yourselves.

my mom is cooler than yours.

look at her go.
and don't forget my line sister and her boo in the back.
famous.

WWW: Miss Tyra!

it's been a minute since we've done a proper White Woman of the Week, but tyra won an emmy yesterday, y'all! rocking an old hollywood look and a white woman's head, babygirl took home the daytime for best informative talk show. in her acceptance speech, she gave thanks to God, saying "she's the queen. she will always be the queen." we know that's right!

congrats, miss tyra!

freemix

a milli in a week on you hoes.

don't string me up by my toes but...

i am still not registered to vote. i take solace in the fact that New Jersey has voted for the democratic candidate in both presidential elections over the last eight years. still, this rationale will get me only so far. the buck stops here.

please register to vote. if you're like me and have a harder time than most navigating the waters of anything practical. or political. try here.

after my own heart

Andy Warhol described himself as the type of person "who'd like to sit home and watch every party that I'm invited to on a monitor in my bedroom"

almost 30

she did it again, y'all!

future first lady michelle obama co-hosted the view this morning in an effort to ease the worries of uptight white women that she's not sufficiently like them (the same worries such uptight white women had about hillary rodham clinton as potential first lady). she kicked things off quite nicely, making light of the dap heard 'round the world- even "fist bumping" barbara walters and white woman of all white women elizabeth hasselbeck! you may not have heard, but said dap caused quite a stir, even leading the klansmen over at fox news to suggest it was some sort of terrorist signal.

but bg did quite a good job of diffusing such absurdity, if you ask me. peep for yourself here:

game time!

how many famous fashionistas can you spot in this photo???

BGotW status to anyone who gets them all.

noel, you got this.

just like kimora lee

in south africa, chinese people just became black.

just me and my bitch

first class

my havianas will be traveling in this - the newest LV/murakami collabo called monogramouflage - en route to malibu next month.

Congratulations Celtics!

We don't like Boston PD..... but we don't like Kobe too much either.

what 131-92 looks like.

i've had an itch

in my throat. armpits. veins.
an all consuming discomfort in my system has become a fixed nuisance now that i was a witness to the illest shit EVER.
this past weekend, after a party at my former employer's office space, a group of dope motherfuckers (myself included) exited the building after cops busted the joint and sent us tipsily on our way home.
upon exiting, we faced the first of our troubles - 12 crooked cops ready to pounce on 5 innocent victims - all my friends.

"MOVE THE FUCK ON! MOVE OR WE'LL ARREST YOU!"

and with that, the first victim was pushed.punched.slammed against concrete and cuffed. my boy will. we'll call him #1.
upon witnessing the madness that ensued for NO REASON AT ALL a second victim.a photographer.a friend. leveraged both his relative position to the activity and his camera clad to his shoulders to take pictures of the assault.
he might have gotten in 1 picture.

::FLASH::

and his camera hit the ground and his body followed. i saw him tumble. get kicked. get dragged into the middle of the street where cars passed. and watched as officers mercilessly threw him around and then cuffed him. he'll be #2.
at this point i'm making my way down this downtown street with the officers and the bodies being thrown about. angry.crying.screaming.confused.
we were all going HOME! doing as we were told.
in an effort to salvage #2's camera, my friend chris reached and missed and jamel, who would soon be #3 also tried and failed. he was another witness to the abuse and in an angry rage yelled "what is going on? what the fuck is going on?" only to have officer dickwad threaten "YOU WANNA GO TOO BUDDY?"

u would think it was a choice.

in a second they pulled him away from me, threw him on the ground, and beat the living shit out of him before cuffing and later placing him along a train station's cement wall. he was #3 before he knew it.

#4 i missed but hear he was trying to document the incident from inside a car and got pulled out of the car. beat up. also cuffed.

they saved the worst for last.
a friend. a worker. another pissed off bystander. voiced his distaste with the fucked up operation the police were undergoing. following a few words, he was manhandled. really fucked UP. beaten to the ground by 4 dickheads and cuffed. then PEPPER SPRAYED. PEPPER FUCKING SPRAYED after being placed in handcuffs.
i tell you.
no one hates the cops more than me, #'s 1-5 and the dozens of witnesses to the wreckless assaults that happened.
i shake a bit everytime i see that tacky ass uniform. and my itch has spread.
"i curse the day you were born," shitface officers.
uggh. i can't even.

food for thought

What's great about this country is that America started the tradition where the richest consumers buy essentially the same things as the poorest. You can be watching TV and see Coca Cola, and you know that the President drinks Coca Cola, Liz Taylor drinks Coca Cola, and just think, you can drink Coca Cola, too. A coke is a coke and no amount of money can get you a better coke than the one the bum on the corner is drinking. All the cokes are the same and all the cokes are good. Liz Taylor knows it, the President knows it, the bum knows it, and you know it.

– The Philosophy of Andy Warhol: (From A to B and Back Again), 1975

do ya like my style?

the babygirls got a new outfit for summer! thoughts?

(wifey, do you hate me?)

IKEA brooklyn opens tomorrow.

boogie bout to kill a bitch.

Address: 1 Beard Street, Brooklyn, NY 11231
Open 9am June 18 | Regular Hours: Daily 10am - 10pm | Phone: 718-246-IKEA (4532)

queen bitch, supreme bitch

blair waldorf or lauren conrad?
nate or brody?
chuck or spencer?
gossip girl or the hills?

toooouuuugh choices, i KNOW, but radar magazine breaks it down for us to hilaaaarious effect. a must read for any 14 year old white woman (that means us, wifey!).

my undying love of 'drina aside, i choose GG.

reggie bush don't play

cuz that ass is not a game!

you ain't got shit in your purse, pt. III

please believe that maddox and i STAY saying "prune" these days.

My arms brag to each other about how you feel...

It’s only been 15 days since I ended it all. And though I am happy in my new space, with my new mode of thought- though I come equipped with knowledge confidence and faith like I’ve never had before- though I am very much single and embracing it for the first time in my life, I must admit-

I miss feeling this way:

I am learning to accept my bougie

I had filet mignon sandwiches at Morton’s. My career as an attorney may make me an old maid, overworked, and shrill… but it may all be worth it for these.

Best dollars my firm spent on me so far.

Happy hour anytwo?

boo!

I’m scared I will hate my children. I read something about Libras that said we are geared toward partnership (yes). Most comfortable when in a relationship (yes). When we married will love our husband more than we’ll love our children (still not disagreeing). That we will love our children and dote on them and they will be well taken care of by virtue of our love of beauty. (hmm. Ok). But I realize my horoscope missed something. I will also quite possibly dislike my children. Not because of some jealousy issue and obsession with my very sexy husband. But because my kids will be nothing like me. They won’t grow up by Norland. They won’t play for the North Dade bulldogs. They won’t by 25 cent juices (quarter waters for my NY stans). They will wear Gucci loafers with their school uniforms. My daughter’s first car won’t be a turquoise 1992 Nissan Sentra. It’ll be a 3 series hybrid BMW. My son will wear pastel Polo shirts and $100 flip-flops.

He won’t fill out a FAFSA religiously. He won’t make close friends with the financial aid officer. He won’t offer to baby-sit the cafeteria worker at his college’s two-year-old daughter when he sees him at the Safeway on Rhode Island Ave (Ripai got a baby mama ya’ll). My kids won’t get need-based aid. They’ll travel outside of the United States long before their 21st birthday. And I have 10 years left to come to terms with that reality.

u do it 4 me.

This plays behind me when I walk.

weezy wasn't the only one...

to release an album tuesday.

djbooth.net comments:

"The one thing that truly separates Plies from all the rest of the radio-hungry rap pack is his willingness to work obscenities into nearly every song. In fact, Bust It Baby is one of the softest songs on the album, something like Please Excuse My Hands is much more the norm. While Jamie Foxx and The Dream bring a silky smooth r&b style to My Hands, Plies turns the track into a musical sex tape with lyrics like: “look on the dresser and grab that baby oil.” Come to think of it, that’s a laughably tame line compared to the rest of the album. Hold on, let me find something better...ok, let’s try out this gem from Feel Like F**kin: “I call my little baby a shooter when she nut she skeet.” There, that’s more like it. If you’ve ever thought to yourself, “I’d love to listen to a man slowly rap about how much he loves licking p**sy,” then Definition Of Real is the album for you."

well... works for me!

ok nigga fine.

you guys look great together. i wish you lots of success. but you been lookin so chocolatey lately. is it the moisturizer? anyway. bring me that ring soon.

xoxo
vinci.

sigh of relief

once again, startracks saved my life.

as in, i no longer have to kill myself, because LC and 'drina are together again. here they are out for a night of photo opp fun in west hollywood.

lest we forget

Happy Fathers Day!!!

bring your dad somewhere he can watch the Lakers / Celtics tonight and make this one really special.

i meant to tell y'all this

but key key was lookin' some sort of amazing at alexis' ghita party the other night. no comments on you and that nancy kerrigan getup, phifer. WWKD?

this is QUITE adorable

uncle jay.

from flower child to hot mess

papermag recently did a piece on entertainment's flyest fairies:

unconventional ursulas:







throwback trannies:







flowerbabygirls:







and by far my all time fave...

HOT ASS MESSES:







"courtney love is in diiiiire need of attention right now."
-madonna

loves that bitch. court, of course.

full article aqui.

foolish.

this bitch better go. bad meaning BAD.

who would have thought

from looking at this promo pic for Family Matters that Judy Winslow (bottom center ... green scrunchie) would have ended up in Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew for a weed addiction?

Then again, who would have expected Eddie Winslow (back row center) to end up like this:subsequently accused of assaulting (thrice choking) her?

black or white? both!

bg rockin the alternating black and white nails!
thoughts? i'm feelin it.

she also has a new album or something i think.

a hat that is allowed

the beautiful MIA

MIA's last gig ever?

last night MIA announced from the stage at Bonnaroo in Tennessee that she was playing her last gig ever, after canceling most of her European dates citing exhaustion. "This is my last show, and I'm glad I'm spending it with all my hippies," she said. Many wonder if her recent engagement to Benjamin Brewer has anything to do with the change of plans. She announced the engagement to Brewer, a guitarist and vocalist for NY-based rock band Exit, at a gig in the UK last week.

Baby mama drama.

Not that fox news is the least bit credible but... yea.
This general election will make me lose some friends. For example:

"Joyce Susick is the type of voter who might carry Barack Obama to the White House — or keep him out. A registered Democrat in a highly competitive state, she is eager to replace George W. Bush, whom she ranks among the worst presidents ever.

There's just one problem.

"I don't think our country is ready for a black president," Susick, who is white, said in an interview in the paint store where she works. "A black man is never going to win Pennsylvania."

Susick said her personal objection to Obama is his inexperience, not his color. "It has nothing to do with race," she said."

-Associated Press Article.

waaaaait whaaaat?

my eyes are burning!!!

vinci: girl chris brown killed this shit right here
shon: well if you like the song i suggest you never watch that video you'll be traumatized
vinci: lol why?
shon: the song should be called the birdcage
vinci: whaaaat?
shon: girl his chest is just.... he shouldn'ta did that ewww
vinci: hahahaha




I bout lose my mind at 1:48.

why i can never become a lesbian.

how'd they know?

i fell in love today. not with a man.... i ain't CRAZY. i fell in love with nuvo. or did nuvo fall in love with me?

NUVO is a sparkling vodka liqueur. the bottle design looks like perfume but i assure you it is more than the physical. its ingredients include vodka, champagne, and quite possibly the blood of jesus. i ain't playin ya'll. never again will a wine cooler touch these lips of mine. i'll order a case for our romp back to MV.

R. Kelly?

Not Guilty. (my ass.)

thank you aol

ever used aim video chat? like water to a parched throat. food to a starving woman. air ... to a fuckin ... asthmatic. a wonderful first experience last night, like meeting him all over again. also wanted to rip my hair out for my inability to jump right through the fucking computer screen. fantastic and frustrating as all hell. like anything worthwhile. must be time to go back now.

yes please.

Kasia Struss in Rodarte

yes please. all that. all that. even Maggie's MC Hammer Pants.

run this bitch

happy friday, snitches! just a little hotness to get your weekend poppin' off right. i'll be frolicking with my blackout twin and a never-ending glass of champ in hand for her last night in the murder capital.

hope you'll be runnin' this tonight too!

'til malibu, court!

katy perry was on to something

“Women physically don’t seem to differentiate between genders in their sex responses, at least heterosexual women don’t,” she said. “For heterosexual women, gender didn’t matter. They responded to the level of activity...”

She did allow that the apparent flexibility of women “may be related to greater potential for bisexuality in women than in men.”

iiiiinteresting.

speaking of Amy ...

I absolutely love Amy Winehouse. sideways beehive, blonde shagg, bloody ballerina shoes. long hair don't care. and I know that she is not a racist. furthermore this video is racist against everybody, so it's not for anyone to get upset. i am more ... suprised ... per se ... at the fact that Amy truly is a crack head. now i know you are all probably shaking your heads. thinking "blake. how could you not know that Amy Winehouse is a crackhead?" let me be clear. i knew that Amy was a crack head. i just didn't knoooowww that Amy was a crack head. old crack pipe video and all. maybe it's the paraphanalia. maybe it's the utter mess. or the den. but i'm sold. ok Amy? SOOLLDDD.

in my dream last night

i was flailing around in the water holding a rope. i had been tossed out of a big ship and was trying to use an attached rope to pull myself back in. i was late for something. all of a sudden Momma B, L Boogie's mom, appeared - and asked me why i was still in the water. "i've been trying to climb back in!" i yelled up to her. thinking, hence - the rope in my hands. "have you tried climbing up?" "mm, no." i replied. i had assumed that the sides of the boat would be slippery. I swam over to a side corner. put my hands on it, and to my suprise, it was not as slippery as I expected. I was able to climb all the way up the side and hoist myself over the edge.

woke up remembering,

there's more than one way to skin a cat.

Water For Elephants

my moms has been going on crazy for months about a place called Sedona Arizona. She has been dying to get out there and taken turns harassing each member of my immediate family to accompany her. I finally said I would go (reluctant as I was to spend my 23rd in a place called sedona [do they even have tequila out there?] ). The scenery was amaazing. Mountains and desert and heat and beauty like I had never first hand experienced. Mom was eager to meet with a Shaman, an Indian named Rajelio. Not sure if I feel cleansed of anything, but do feel more in touch with something. Took a day trip to the Grand Canyon. People say it is impossible for the mind to concieve something of such great magnitude - even while staring directly at it. It truly was remarkable. The most amazing part to me though, was how unregulated it was. You could stand on the edge of a cliff suspended over 5,000 feet in the air - high enough that when you dare look down, the massive Colarado River looks like a burst pipe... like a mirage. Talk about putting things in perspective. So thus far, 23 has been good to me. For my birthday got my first professional massage from a woman who rubbed my body so slowly, so gently (simultaneously firmly) - with such purpose and attention - that i caught myself wondering a couple times if she could be a lesbian. Having not been touched - and i mean in any way touched - in two months, i caught myself wondering 'could i?'
so for real, all in all, a truly gratifying five days. I'm starting to pack now for the move. Slowly, very slowly. The heat and humidity make doing anything quickly a liability. Daunted, though, at the idea of boxes. and bubble wrap. and we hope its just those things that make it daunting.
miss. love.

if you can't beat em ...

... join em. least that seems to be Lilly Allen's theory regarding "bloggers" and "bullies." She and Perez Hilton have been going at it for a couple days now on their respective blogs. (longer if you count passive-aggressive communication). But they are past that now, and taking direct shots. all for our viewing pleasure. enjoy:

why don'tcha come on oooover, traaaaggedyyyyy

don't even know what to say.

un regalo del cielo

23 years ago, miss lena was born.

give thanks.

(gorgeous photo by her man ramell. more to come on that.)

all the stars explode tonight

02 july 2008.

i really really neeeeeeed thiiiiiiissssssssssssssssss

can somebody buy me this 3.1 phillip lim coat pleeeaaaaase???

seriously! it's on sale at eluxury for just $455, and i have to save my money for la la land! wifey, you're employed!

screeeeeech!

almost 3 years ago, bleezy and i went to CVS with our girl princess peach. peach was considering dying her hair slightly darker brown a la ashlee simpson circa 2-thou-5 and was checking out the various garnier options. bleezy i were looking for... i don't know, honey bbq fritos flavor twists or something. all outta nowhere, i decided I'D be the bitch to dye my hair - straight BLEAAAACH it, in fact! bleez did the dirty work, aaaand...

voila!
thoughts?

my new favorite celeb couple

diane kruger and pacey whitter



aren't they just hideous?

(thanks, sug'!)

and with that...she smiled

i started work yesterday. i am lifeless today. but fresh summoned what little energy i had left and formed it into an egregious laugh.

now i sympathize with this man. i, too, have worn the veil. double consciousness. all that jazz. (dubois, for the af-amer studies-deprived) but this man takes it to a whole new level. just watch:



i dont even know right now.

please say the "baby"

today's the day, snitches.



cop it, shorty, c-cop it like it's hot.

saturday at soho house, wifey?

i assume you'll be wearing this michael kors number - as sported by chanel at the CFDA awards pre-show cocktail party.

no, not in a million years, you're nasty, please leave me alone...

"This time i'm putting my hands up , i got very drunk last night , too drunk. It's not cool getting that drunk , i feel awful and I have to thank my little brother alf for getting me home safely.Kids , drink responsibly or you'll end up looking like this , not pretty ! Was quite fun though , from what i can remember. need fry up now." -lily allen

PREACH, babygirl.

un "au revoir" a la mode

the fashion world's paper-thin heavyweights strapped on their black louboutins for the paris funeral of one of their legends last week - monsieur yves saint laurent.


valentino garavani and claudia schiffer


laetitia casta


you already know maddox was there.

she don't have time for lames

have you met my mother-in-law?

she's perfect.

dont do it

me: i absolutely haaate when ppl call it "the big apple"
stef: we've had this conversation already. {blank} had it as hisher status
me: yeh. it's like, fuck you...you know?
stef: umm hmm

Open your eyes, spectacular's right in front of you...

Candy-coated unicorns are quite hard to find...

You've got that thang and you know it
But yet you don't and that's what's so cool
You don't say too much, but when you do it's profound.

it's high time i confess that this babygirl's move to london kills me. she is that rare combination of cool awkwardness, pious vulgarity, sexy masculinity... i'll work on my antonyms. but ya'll get the point. bleezy wears soccer cleats and ball gowns. I wanna rip off my stilettos and business suit. bleezy wears 70 gold chains, all from her grandmother. i try to loot lamercies' grave. bleezy burned her hair off with a perm. i... well i didn't do that but, i felt her pain. sometimes your friends don't realize they deserve the world and you wanna steal it and hand it to them but there just isn't enough time so all you can do is give her a righteous post on RBGs. But what makes her so special is that, for B, it's more than enough.

then there's the obsession with tittays. without tittays where would we be? well obvi not in the pic above. but we'd prolly just move on to all the other jokes we share with each other that no one would ever really get. 4 am rounds on facebook. drinking breaks at graduation. 2 passats with a story to tell. a letter about kool-aid. the jack daniels that changed us forever...

23 years righteous.
soundtrack still the same.

a billi

marcy projects muthafucka

"some ppl think i'm crazy, and some ppl get it."

i hate when motherfuckers dont get it.

coupla things abt last night...

1. promoters cannot be trusted
2. investment banker indians from cornell just "loooooove black girls"
3. to hope to leave the party looking the same as when you arrived, is just too much to ask
4. 90 degrees at 12pm--ok, we get it. 90 degrees at 2 am- kill yourself.
5. jose cuervo stored under your car seat in that 90 degree weather will make u dry heave
6. short men=shameless
7. mcdonalds drive thru poles will fuck up your side door
8. but white castle is always open. and a haitian cab driver just might tell you to "hurry up, neegah!" if you take too long to order
9. speakin of niggas--they will still try to talk to you with a paper towel plastered to ur forehead under your bangs. they will say "that's a good look, ma."
10. i. am. cooked.

where we movin'

to get you these, porter?


















noel gives me life.

flex always delivers

the hottest shit out right now

vanna

sorry T.I.

...but you ain't fuckin' with the original



it's important to me
that you know you are free

hey 'kinha.

an ode to fresh

when our cab driver bumped this in st. thomas, it suddenly became ok for me.



and i won't be judged.

wtf is my life about?

so I think I have a boyfriend.... errr aaah... or something like that. I'm dating... this guy. I liked but didn't and now like again. he's sweet. like cold mango sweet. I just don't know what to do with it.

its weird. he actually gets jealous and wants me by his side, and to hold his hand. and to leave my work clothes at his house. I don't think I'm ready for a relationship right now but maybe one is ready for me.

anywho, the point of this post really is, its nearly 1:30 and he's arguing! not with me. with a fat man who wrote a play. (he has a business). I know I like him b/c instead of being pissed he has me waiting I'm defensive re: fat man who's pissed about a play. who still watches plays anyway?

I digress. my real point is listening to him argue is turning me on.

wtf is my life about??

we went there to live

fat shout to st. thomas!

i heard you were lookin' for me

man i got summer hatin' on me 'cause im hotter than the sun
got spring hatin' on me 'cause i aint never sprung
winter hatin' on me 'cause im colder than y'all
and i will never i will never i will never fall
i been hated by the seasons
so fuck y'all who hatin' for no reason.

HELLO.

o Stephanie -

say it aint so...

pegged me as a Westerns kind of girl??

shows how little you know!

my second-favorite movie of all time (if you don't know -- you better watch Pulp Fiction) is a little doosie called Tombstone. the show-stopper of this masterpiece is a character called Doc Holiday. There is no describing Doc but to say that he is my hero, my alterego. 'I'm your hucklebury.'

apparently, our babygirl 50 agrees with me.

Although Val Kilmer has not come remotely close since, real recognize real and he's looking familiar. 50 Bestowed upon Val a $100,000 Chevy Impala as a gift on the set of their new movie Streets of Blood earlier this week. Streets of Blood aside, (almost guaranteed to bomb) ... pleeeeaseee watch a Western called Tombstone to find out what 50 so loves about this babygirl. One of Hollywood's best kept secrets, We spread this love and loyalty. it's the bg way.

i meeaann...

duuuhhhh....

(thnx perez)

watched Sex And The City with my mom ...

broke up with my boyfriend less than 24 hours later -- and less than a week before i'm meant to return to London.

probably don't do that.

but there is so much to be said for autonomy. and independence. and fucking. self-sufficience. and friendship. the real shit that will have you curse your best friend's man out. not friendship the way most people mean it. and fucking love. but not in the transient, temporary, romantic sense. love of self. there is so much to be said for blurry beautiful evenings, and bottles of white wine ... and the refusal to ever compromise. or make sushi. or wait idly.

God, please don't let me name my daughter Estella ... or my house Great Expectations.

i wanna be your boo

i really do.

i missed my best friend

walking thru jfk's neverending path to the terminals with momma b, i looked to my left and the golden arches nearly sent me into a tizzy. amaris and i had just just just had egg mcmuffins there like the ffbs (see fucking fat bitches) we are in march. right before our plane to miami. it was one of the first and ONLY times i'd be vacationing without her.

no putting me on the spot to speak spanish to the dominican janitor.
no 2 minute prayers and clenched hands as we took off.
no snapping pictures of unsuspecting hot ass messes we deemed blogworthy.
no "maaaaaaaaa!!!"

but im back now. and the drinks are on you, margarita. LOVE.

yes we did babyguuuuuhl

as we lied in our king size bed on the edge of the quiet st. thomas ocean, i yelled "MA, SHE JUST DAPPED HIM UP!"

further proof that the obamas are everything that i, that this country, need right now.

sitting through a horrendous mccain speech which gave me premature certainty that this man is on his last leg as well, i itched for less-deafening, more eloquent, and more sensibly appropriate words.

but when babygirl emerged in her skinny purple, cinched-waist, perfect-bobbed, pearl-wearing, brown, sun-kissed skin glory, next to her man, our man, i thought to myself we have arrived.

i thought to myself, that is a black woman. my mother. my aunts. my friends. grandma. her presence, that vision of her was epic. the grace, the pizazz, the assuredness with which she greeted her people, the strength. she was all too perfect.

i don't know if it is the toni morrison in me. the angelyn mitchell in me. the i have raised your children and i have cooked your food and i have loved you to the point of sheer madness and i have been the mule of the world and i have been selfless and lifted you up and let you love me and let me love you and unconditionally so and i will stand here with you and we will. we will. we will. maybe it was that.

or maybe it was those babies.

needless to say, there is nothing i cld want more in a first lady. getting to know this charismatic, passionate, and fierce woman has been and continues to be a joy. their union is monumentally beautiful, and i'll watch with proud eyes--hoping to emulate, one day, their friendship.

are you there bleezy?

it's me, nicole.

and we watched them stand

well, babygirls, the historic 2008 democratic nominating process has come to an end, and with the nation's democratic primary voters virtually split between two remarkable, history-making candidates, senator barack obama has emerged victorious as the democratic party's nominee for president. serious congratulations are in order to mr. obama - for breaking barriers and defying odds, for inspiring millions, for rockstar charisma and razor-sharp intellect, and for making a most powerful case for change in troubling times. as an american citizen always hoping for full civil rights and racial equity, i am extremely proud of barack obama - and even more so of our country for embracing him.

(b as a bg)

i must also, of course, be one of the few to make a humble case for congratulations to mrs. clinton - for being a tireless, lifelong champion for those others don't see; for bold, progressive policies and an unshakeable commitment to truly universal health care; for gritting her teeth and smiling in the face of relentless scorn; and for being a powerful example of strength and perseverance to millions of americans.

i know many readers may scoff at this post and prefer to think of the cartoon witch they've always been told is hillary, and i'm sorry for that. i'm past tired of trying to prove to people that she's a decent human being, so i won't go through her resume of service to others or her host of righteous supporters, but i will say that i personally know her to be true-hearted and forever committed to finding better ways to improve the lives of all of us, especially the vulnerable.

as someone involved in this campaign for the past 10 months, it has often been difficult - painful, even - to witness the constant demonization of a woman for whom i have such respect, as well as the divisions caused between supporters of these 2 candidates, sometimes even between me and my dear friends. there was never a time, however, when aunt maya couldn't cheer me up:

in the end, i hope i speak for most of us when i say it's been an honor to be a part of such history, and a true privilege to watch both barack obama and hillary clinton STAND.

so it's on to the white house, babygirls! president obama it is.

on the red carpet in marc jacobs' clothes...

kim was lookin' fab as hell on the arm of bestie marc jacobs at the Council of Fashion Designers of America awards last night in NYC. marc lost womenswear designer of the year to francisco costa of calvin klein, but he has a far superior trophy in the Queen Bee.

i also attended, of course, with date naomi campbell, who was appropriately swathed in YSL:

catch all the fabulosity here.

rip, ysl

l'histoire

just when i was feeling bad for myself...

just 'cus i promised lboogs i'd stay on my grind.

this reminded me of one fine supermarket i visited while living in boston. said supermarket charged me $.05 per plastic bag used to pack my groceries, but something tells me they weren't tryna save anyone's trees with the proceeds.

save-a-lot, my butt.

i wanna kill someone in this club

when i get angry i turn fire purple
i yell obscenities
i insult
i bitch slap
ok. i've never bitch slapped or ever really had a physical altercation, but in retrospect, i probably should have this past saturday at da club. my friend stef alicia, who holds no punches (she's hit plenty'abitch) should have been my inspiration on this particular evening when a dildohead confronted me out of nowhere with an "is there a problem?" after she witnessed her man in a 5 secs tops exchange with myself and a gf. in a timely fashion, her friends crowded 'round and another one of the clan asked us the SAME DARN QUESTION - this time though, her eyes were only on me. and it was that same woman with the fixed gaze that decided to throw the sole blow as she pushed me into a crowd, practically tossing me into the hands of some dude who wanted to save the day. i had zero time to react as gentlemen rushed over to break up what they saw coming - a god awful catfight. thank heavens for my face and high blood pressure this didn't happen. but looking back, i would've liked to instinctively punch her gut really hard or pull on her hair a bit. or even perhaps carried my pistol into the club and done something really mean like..u know..hit her with it, i guess. is that appropriate?

my baby stays in chanel. blue satin

and someone find my real camera, pleease. i live for fotografia by iphone.