House Breaking Party
Happy Monday Folks!!! Please excuse me if I randomly veer off into Neverland today because I’m still in hung over mode from all the man-stick slinging & jello shots this weekend. As some of you know an old acquaintance of mine, Le Short Stop, threw a house breaking event this weekend. Yes I say house breaking because what occurred should not ever under any reasonable circumstances be categorized by sane people as a house warming!!!
A couple of weeks ago I received an evite from Le Short Stop to come out & celebrate her new abode. It promised food, drinks & entertainment – all at a price. A price? Now you know I immediately got to cussing!!! How in the hell you gone ask me to come eat greasy chicken, chunky mac& cheese, and get stank ding ding slung up in my nostrils plus pay you $20 for it? Negress please!!! Nevertheless, I called Testy T & we made it our business to attend.
On night of said event I got all freshed out & shined up. Put some oil sheen on my ankles and Crisco on my elbows. I scooped up Testy T & we headed out to Forestville, MD. Now I don’t mean no harm but yall MFR’s in Forestville need to call or write – naw fuck that – yall need to camp out in front of some elected officials office. When did Forestville become such a ghetto? I was afeared (is that a word?) for my life. While Testy frantically read the Map Quest directions, I strained my 20/30 vision looking for the damn street signs as there were NO lights on the streets, it was quite difficult driving. I hit a curve on Hill-Mar circle so hard I got whiplash. Side note- don’t use Map Quest when you got to go somewhere in the hood. Dem MFR’s ain’t go verify nary a piece of information they just said “its black people, they don’t know the difference between north & south anyway.”
We finally located the development & house number. Honey I almost turned around when I saw a discarded mattress, bey bey old stereo cabinet, broken toys & some other shit strewn around a corner house.
“Somebody obviously was recently evicted. Do you think we’re safe Ms G?” questioned Testy T with a fearful look in her eye and elevated voice pitch. “You got your blade?”
At that moment Mama Kibbles pops out the doorway hollering about where to park. Lord you know it’s something when ya mama ghetto. I park & lock up my shit like Fort Knox – hell I’ma needs a reliable way outta this joint. We enter Le Short’s palace & I see why that biach didn’t ask for no gifts. Her place is laid like that!! Gleaming hardwood floors. Sleek sophisticated modern furniture & lighting. Just plain old nice. Now why would you want to “break it in” with funky ding ding is beyond me.
After the requisite hugs & kisses and “how mama nem” questions, I grab a jello shot and drink making my way to the basement. Lord I wish somebody would tell these Chinese shopkeepers to stop selling this bad weave to our people!! We need a damn national movement. Upon stepping into the room Testy T and I immediately exchange nervous glances. There is nappy weave, too tight on my belly jeans, an ex-crack head –and if she wasn’t one she should’ve been- and a super plus size mother and daughter team. Now I don’t know bout yall mammies, but I know damn well mine ain’t coming to watch no man-stick slanging with me!! Umm umm umm these are truly the last days.
Hemingway – Of course the ghetto dancers from Baltimore are late. It seems that the ladies present normally use the DC Bad Boys (they’re even planning to have them at a baby shower – I KNOW, I KNOW close your mouth) but decided to give B-More a try. Le Shorts’ BFF, Monique-without the eyelashes- takes this opportunity to collect money from those who haven’t paid up. I slickly slide her a folded twenty & tell her that covers me & Testy T. This biach was NOT getting more than $10 apiece from us. It’s about what we would have spent on a gift anyway.
While we’re waiting on Mr. B-More Body, our ho-ette – oops – I mean hostess announces a surprise. She pumps up the music and down the stairs comes the finest piece of Mandingo chocolate Ms G has seen in a long time. Honey that boy had on half an outfit – I can’t even explain- some chains wrapped around & a weapon touching his stomach. I immediately started screaming!!! It had to be a fake. I forgot about being mad for having to pay and all that there!!! I was sweating like Aunt Shirley on her second menopause! Hip-no, Hypnotic, Hypnotize, whatever his name is was like that!!! Although I had planned to only throw ONE dollar bill to each dancer, I immediately pulled out five for this brother. But what impressed Ms G the most was this boy could pick me up!!! Yes honey he picked up all 215 lbs of Ms G with his buck nakededed self!!! Thank God I had my hand sanitizer.
After my oxygen treatment the next dancer came down. Now this fool, BMore Body (names have been changed to avoid liable lawsuits) came down lip syncing like he was K-Fed (pre Brittney dumping his no-talent ass) and too cute to boot. He was singing & carrying on & at one point lay on the floor strangely squeezing his chest area with his eyes clothes & tongue lolling out the side of his mouth – needless to say he only had $2 on the floor. Testy & I were rolling at him having a moment. He obviously heard us cause he zipped those jeans down the side (I’m sure you can find your man a pair at Dancers-R-Us) and pulled out his money maker. Shut my mouth. That fool grabbed Testy T & slung her around like she was Lamb Chop the puppet. He was banging & twirling & flipping. When he finally set her back down that hair was all over her damn head!! She quickly got rid of that “no I’m alright, don’t touch me, I’m too sexy for my shirt” face.
There was a break in action & I was tired and ready to get home to Mr. King. Everyone insisted we wait & well I’m glad we did. The last dancer was The Total All That and that Super Hero Negro earned every last bit of dem dollars!!! It should be against the law for a man-stick slinger to be so sexy. To look at you like you the only woman in the world. To sing in your ear like you were gonna be his girl for life. I’m not even going to mention his “package”. Let’s just say I briefly considered being a Ho-Ette if only for one night.
Testy T & I departed the party in a festive mood. Glad that we had put our apprehensions aside & ventured into the night. Our euphoria was short lived as we traveled down Pennsylvania Ave towards Silver Hill Road and crossed paths with about 15 teen hoodlums in the street. One of them had the nerve to reach towards Ms G’s Benzo (that’s the Corollas nickname). Honey I floored it. I was going to drag his ass all the way to Forestville Mall if he had got a hold of my car door. Next time I will be better prepared for a hood party with my self designed Hood Gear & necessaries. Coming to a boutique near you soon!
A couple of weeks ago I received an evite from Le Short Stop to come out & celebrate her new abode. It promised food, drinks & entertainment – all at a price. A price? Now you know I immediately got to cussing!!! How in the hell you gone ask me to come eat greasy chicken, chunky mac& cheese, and get stank ding ding slung up in my nostrils plus pay you $20 for it? Negress please!!! Nevertheless, I called Testy T & we made it our business to attend.
On night of said event I got all freshed out & shined up. Put some oil sheen on my ankles and Crisco on my elbows. I scooped up Testy T & we headed out to Forestville, MD. Now I don’t mean no harm but yall MFR’s in Forestville need to call or write – naw fuck that – yall need to camp out in front of some elected officials office. When did Forestville become such a ghetto? I was afeared (is that a word?) for my life. While Testy frantically read the Map Quest directions, I strained my 20/30 vision looking for the damn street signs as there were NO lights on the streets, it was quite difficult driving. I hit a curve on Hill-Mar circle so hard I got whiplash. Side note- don’t use Map Quest when you got to go somewhere in the hood. Dem MFR’s ain’t go verify nary a piece of information they just said “its black people, they don’t know the difference between north & south anyway.”
We finally located the development & house number. Honey I almost turned around when I saw a discarded mattress, bey bey old stereo cabinet, broken toys & some other shit strewn around a corner house.
“Somebody obviously was recently evicted. Do you think we’re safe Ms G?” questioned Testy T with a fearful look in her eye and elevated voice pitch. “You got your blade?”
At that moment Mama Kibbles pops out the doorway hollering about where to park. Lord you know it’s something when ya mama ghetto. I park & lock up my shit like Fort Knox – hell I’ma needs a reliable way outta this joint. We enter Le Short’s palace & I see why that biach didn’t ask for no gifts. Her place is laid like that!! Gleaming hardwood floors. Sleek sophisticated modern furniture & lighting. Just plain old nice. Now why would you want to “break it in” with funky ding ding is beyond me.
After the requisite hugs & kisses and “how mama nem” questions, I grab a jello shot and drink making my way to the basement. Lord I wish somebody would tell these Chinese shopkeepers to stop selling this bad weave to our people!! We need a damn national movement. Upon stepping into the room Testy T and I immediately exchange nervous glances. There is nappy weave, too tight on my belly jeans, an ex-crack head –and if she wasn’t one she should’ve been- and a super plus size mother and daughter team. Now I don’t know bout yall mammies, but I know damn well mine ain’t coming to watch no man-stick slanging with me!! Umm umm umm these are truly the last days.
Hemingway – Of course the ghetto dancers from Baltimore are late. It seems that the ladies present normally use the DC Bad Boys (they’re even planning to have them at a baby shower – I KNOW, I KNOW close your mouth) but decided to give B-More a try. Le Shorts’ BFF, Monique-without the eyelashes- takes this opportunity to collect money from those who haven’t paid up. I slickly slide her a folded twenty & tell her that covers me & Testy T. This biach was NOT getting more than $10 apiece from us. It’s about what we would have spent on a gift anyway.
While we’re waiting on Mr. B-More Body, our ho-ette – oops – I mean hostess announces a surprise. She pumps up the music and down the stairs comes the finest piece of Mandingo chocolate Ms G has seen in a long time. Honey that boy had on half an outfit – I can’t even explain- some chains wrapped around & a weapon touching his stomach. I immediately started screaming!!! It had to be a fake. I forgot about being mad for having to pay and all that there!!! I was sweating like Aunt Shirley on her second menopause! Hip-no, Hypnotic, Hypnotize, whatever his name is was like that!!! Although I had planned to only throw ONE dollar bill to each dancer, I immediately pulled out five for this brother. But what impressed Ms G the most was this boy could pick me up!!! Yes honey he picked up all 215 lbs of Ms G with his buck nakededed self!!! Thank God I had my hand sanitizer.
After my oxygen treatment the next dancer came down. Now this fool, BMore Body (names have been changed to avoid liable lawsuits) came down lip syncing like he was K-Fed (pre Brittney dumping his no-talent ass) and too cute to boot. He was singing & carrying on & at one point lay on the floor strangely squeezing his chest area with his eyes clothes & tongue lolling out the side of his mouth – needless to say he only had $2 on the floor. Testy & I were rolling at him having a moment. He obviously heard us cause he zipped those jeans down the side (I’m sure you can find your man a pair at Dancers-R-Us) and pulled out his money maker. Shut my mouth. That fool grabbed Testy T & slung her around like she was Lamb Chop the puppet. He was banging & twirling & flipping. When he finally set her back down that hair was all over her damn head!! She quickly got rid of that “no I’m alright, don’t touch me, I’m too sexy for my shirt” face.
There was a break in action & I was tired and ready to get home to Mr. King. Everyone insisted we wait & well I’m glad we did. The last dancer was The Total All That and that Super Hero Negro earned every last bit of dem dollars!!! It should be against the law for a man-stick slinger to be so sexy. To look at you like you the only woman in the world. To sing in your ear like you were gonna be his girl for life. I’m not even going to mention his “package”. Let’s just say I briefly considered being a Ho-Ette if only for one night.
Testy T & I departed the party in a festive mood. Glad that we had put our apprehensions aside & ventured into the night. Our euphoria was short lived as we traveled down Pennsylvania Ave towards Silver Hill Road and crossed paths with about 15 teen hoodlums in the street. One of them had the nerve to reach towards Ms G’s Benzo (that’s the Corollas nickname). Honey I floored it. I was going to drag his ass all the way to Forestville Mall if he had got a hold of my car door. Next time I will be better prepared for a hood party with my self designed Hood Gear & necessaries. Coming to a boutique near you soon!
posted by Ms G @ 1:56 AM
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