I Have A Dream

Fluffy and I are finally out of hiding – now that Michael Vick has confessed to his atrocious doggy sins, Fluffy is no longer afraid. And before you start emailing me with threats & angry retorts, remember Mr. Vick gives neither me nor you a dime towards light bill!! So save your loyalty for Martin Luther King who at least shared a dream!

Hemingway – as I was saying, I’m free to roam the D.C. streets once again & I see ain’t nothing changed. Folks still getting shot up, pumped up and stabbed up (I know yall heard bout Slim Charles’ brother) – business as usual. I’ll say it as I have said it before. If the NAACP, Rev Rhyme & Rev Perm want to protest some shit – how bout Black on Black, Baby Daddies, Ebonics & blackened thigh & buttocks disease. You know it is a complete tragedy to see some heffa walking around with booty shorts on & her thighs & under ring look like she been in a James Byrd look alike competition. Please my sisters, get the cocoa butter out.

On to important stuff! It’s been two years since Katrina struck New Orleans and people are still living in trailers. Yet Prezzie Bush has asked for an additional 50 BILLION dollars for Iraq. All jokes aside folks this is serious business. Let your voice be heard. Listed below are several ways to contact the White House. Just DON’T tell them Ms G gave it to you (I’ma start my own stop snitching movement). I’m already on enough government watch lists & I swear I saw somebody peeking at me from the trees in my backyard yesterday. I know this is a short post but I want you to spend today calling YT & raising hell. That’s more important than reading me. Besides I got to patch up my row boat and go over to Jamaica to collect Lil Carabana. I don’t know why her mammy left her over there in the middle of the hurricane to fend for herself. Poor lil thing.


YT House Info:
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20500

Comments: 202-456-1111
Switchboard: 202-456-1414
FAX: 202-456-2461


Please send your comments to comments@whitehouse.gov
Vice President Richard Cheney: vice_president@whitehouse.gov

Nanny Crack

“Soon will be done….with the troubles of the world. Troubles of the world. TROUBLES OF THE WORLD. I’ll sooner be done….with the troubles of the world. I’m going home to live with MY LOOOOORRRRDDDD!!!”

I swear to yall I could hear Ms Mahalia belting this in my ear when I awoke this morning. Like she knows my pain. Feels my struggle. Understands my desperation. Sheds the blood of the lamb with me – ok well maybe not the blood of the lamb BUT you get the picture. Yall I have been through 15 Nanny interviews!! That’s right. I have spoken to at least 15 trifling heffas about taking care of my new extra children. Courtesy of Pretzel-dent Bush.


See my sister Sexy Slim a.k.a. G.I. Jane is off to defend our freedoms (what freedoms those are I’m not exactly sure but I’ll let you know soon as I get some). So you know who gets four extra crumb snatchers along with a nice healthy monthly stipend – cause yall know it would be SKRAIGHT to foster care without them duckets. But I digress. Well we all know I am not the most organized motherly sort. I believes in chilrens getting somewhere & sitting down. Trick love the kids. However you can’t do that. Chilren needs to run & play & laugh ….you know kid stuff. So I contacted my vast network of friends & acquaintances to get the word on the street that Ms G was looking for some help.

Enter potential #1 – Rabbit Tooth. Chick talked a good game & had serious potential. If only she showed for the interview. I waited & waited & waited. Then I called & called & called. Sent me to voicemail like I was Michael Vick asking for a pet sitter.

Potential #2 – Oomphf Foo Foo Falako. Speaks French, Fulani, Spanish, English & Wolof (WHAT THE HELL) who says to me “Where do you live?” When I replied Largo, she seemed incredulous that I would even deign to ask her to cross into PG. “I only service Bethesda, Potomac, Montgomery County & NW.” Well she gone do a whole lot of servicing cause a rich biach will work the shit out of your ass for little to nothing & act like she doing you a favor.

Potential #3 – Hidalgo Anamelia Maria San Chito Mojito Perez-Alvarez - She was PERFECT in every way. Cleans, Cooks, and Drives, Laundry the works. I just couldn’t understand a damn thing that biach was saying. It took twenty minutes for us to get each others name. We was playing pictionary with my household items cause Carmelita didn’t know a spec of English & her son Hector Jose Javier Jr. had to go landscaping with his daddy & couldn’t be there to translate. People learn the language & pay taxes!!!

Just when I was about to give up hope and have the chilrens sit on the curb till I got home, Lady Short Stops mama came to the rescue – or so I thought. Koala Bear is one of those mamas that you will see in the club sitting at the table with her chilrens. She gets her groove on. She’s a lil rough round the edges (just down right ghetto & uncouth if you ask Testy T) and may not necessarily have the most extended of vocabularies. But she has a good heart, which goes a long way. After our initial telephone interview, I was excited & knew she was the woman for the job. Well all I can say is that my crack head radar is slipping since I moved out the hood. Cause I couldn’t tell chick was gone start tripping.

About two days after our phone interview, Koala called me to “see when the job gone start”. I told her the kids were on vacation & the job would start when school started.

“Oh” she said “Cause I was thinking of applying somewhere else cause I need a few things but I guess I can hold out for a couple more weeks”

I hung up the phone thinking that was funky, but I let it slide – against my better judgment. Well lo and behold if three days later this biach didn’t call back.

“Ms G, you know I’ma keep the kids for you. (NOW see anytime a NIGRA start a sentence with ‘you know’ then you know it’s gone be some shit) You know that right. I ain’t gone let you down. But I needed to get an advancement (*ADVANCEMENT? WTF*) from you. See I’m the type of person if I need help, I just ask. I don’t really have enough gas to get over there but I will come if you could give me bout 40 or 50 dollars.” She stated in a rough scratchy throaty I’ve inhaled through the wire brillo pad to much voice. I swear she sounded like Keisha Cole mama with an implanted Adams Apple.

I was speechless. This biach ain’t kept nary a child. Ain’t wiped nary a nose. Ain’t swept nary a floor and asking for advancement? Hell to the Nawl, super crack ho had me confused with YT!!! Umm ummm!!! Ain’t nobody gone run game on me like that. Daddy Pistol had enough crack heads & hustlers working round the house when was teens. I know bout game. You pay a rock head first ‘fore the job is done, you’ll never see they ass again.

Now what in crack head fat rock sacks falling from the sky heaven make Koala think I was gone give her ass advancement? She liked to got dealt with. I would’ve cussed her ghetto ass out but me & Short Stop been friends for a long time. I didn’t wanna embarrass her bout her mammy like that. Nigress where is your shame? You fifty something years old. You ‘sposed to know better.

Needless to say G.I. Jane was quite put out and Testy T said she should have smacked me in my head. But who would a thunk it? What mammy in her right me with hit her daughter’s friend up for‘advancement’? Needless to say the job offer was retracted after she called me for the 10th time that day asking when I was “gone to get home so she could get the advancement”. In the meantime if yall know a good Nanny, please give her my number cause I don’t want the chilrens to have to sit on the curb. Whitney imitators need not apply!!!

All Kinds of Wrong

Hi Family!! I know I haven’t posted in a minute but to tell the truth I have been too disgusted to say a MFR THING to ANYONE!!! The past few weeks have been hell on heely shoes or whatever those damn things these kids are zooming around stores on. One kid liked to got DEALT with cause he scared the shit out of me zooming past while I’m tryna enjoy shopping at Target.

Hemingway. It all started on a Monday morning when my black ass was later than normal. Yall know I ‘sposed to be at work by 7am but I try & usually make it by 9. Nigras don’t act surprised YALL know how WE do. Anyway I was on Minnesota Ave heading towards Pennsylvania and it was backed up. So I turned down Nash so I could hit Fairlawn that runs along side the railroad tracks parallel to 295. Ain’t no cars back there just crack heads and ne’er-do-wells. My plan was to cut cross, creep through the alley & hit Penn Ave. Easy? WRONG!!! Ain’t a damn thing easy in D.C.

First all those damn bumps & pot holes & shit. Then soon as I pass the DO NOT ENTER 7a m- 9am sign (Yeah I know I was wrong but hell its D.C.), bout to left turn down the alley a damn PoPo siren twirls in my face. He was hiding up in the cut behind the bushes. Now yall know damn well!!! A YT too – thought they was all patrolling Capitol Hill waiting on Marion Barry (MarrryBarrrry –my peoples know how to say it) to drive by. Anyway this Beckham styling gel gump gives me a $50 TICKET!!! I was heated but I wisely drove on. They can’t solve no damn homicides in the district but they will beat your ass & leave you on the streets saying you was drunk.

I finally make it to work, park & run upstairs ( yes biaches I said RUN), almost passed out by the time I got to the second floor & ran smack into my boss – whom I thought WAS sposed to be HOME that day. I swear YT will do a pop up on your ass in a minute. I was so out of breath though I couldn’t even answer her ass when she asked my why I was late. I just waved my hands at her like I picture Miss Brenda, the candy lady would do on a heavy cigarette smoke day. I fell in the chair at my desk & damn near put my eye out when my button popped off my pants with such force it ricocheted. I have got to call Star Jones.

Then before I can get comfortable & catch my breath that cuzin of mine called. Don’t get me wrong I love Carabana like a recently paroled Uncle Pookie but GOOD LORD that girl can talk. I had to hear all bout cousin Bey Bey & Poot Nanny, her trip to New York & who shot John down to what kind of blinds Loews sells. I kept telling her ass I had to hang up but she just kept saying “Ok….Did you …. “ Going off on a whole new tangent. Obviously her ass doesn’t have enough work to do. I might have to drop an anonymous customer complaint letter.

Thirty minutes later I was headed to lunch & decided to treat myself to something nice. Hell I deserved it. Especially after my morning & dealing with those customers on my night job. Which I can’t even get into right now cause that’s a whole book. MFR chilren running round the store, jumping on display beds & simple managers- umm I’ma need a Xanax. So I had down to King Street looking for something good & fancy. I wanted to splurge.
Le Gaulois was calling my name. It’s a quaint little restaurant on King Street in Alexandria – I think it’s French – with nice décor, outside patio area, flowers, ambience you name it. I said “THIS is the place for you Ms. G.” I go in & stand at the door for bout 2 minutes. Finally Henrico Menendez Brothers comes over & says in a snotty tone:

“May I help you Miss?”

That should have been my first clue right there that shit wasn’t gone be right. Normally people ask you “Table for one”, “Welcome, How many?” or some other such warm friendly hostess stuff. Not Henrico. So I looked down my nose & did my best Bigmama impression & replied:

“I’d LIKE to sit & have lunch.” I haughtily stated. He gave me a weird look & then led me to a table in the courtyard next to a brick wall – but thankfully under an umbrella – where all the bees & shit was congregated. Ok. Strike two. The waiter came brought me some water & bread & took my order. I decided to get a grilled seafood salad cause it SAID it had salmon, shrimp, scallops, swordfish & avocados. Umm it sounded scrumptious so I got it. I also ordered a glass of wine.

WELL when my food arrived I was speechless. Now I know how a certain someone felt when the King of Zamunda took her to a fancy D.C. spot that’s FAMOUS for it’s cuisine. I had ONE shrimp, ONE scallop, ONE piece of salmon bout the size of my thumbs together – I have SMALL thumbs. ONE piece of swordfish even smaller than the salmon on some wilted ass lettuce. A quarter piece of avocado sliced in fours & two mini cherry tomatoes cut in half. It was on the plate so pretty but at $14 damn dollars I had to call Ernesto Javier Armando Raheim Jabob Leroy Lopez ass back to the table.

He was reluctant to come cause his ASS KNEW what was bout to go down. It’s bad enough they stuck me by the wall with bees & flies & shit with everybody looking at me like I was gone jump up at any minute & run off with their plate & purses. I was still HONGRY!!! I asked him very nicely & discreetly where the rest of my food was was while he smiled & tried to pretend like his ass didn’t understand English.

“Usted sabe terriblemente el pozo qué estoy diciendo, así que no me hace acto para arriba hacia fuera aquí!” I politely told his ass in a heated whisper – smiling the whole time. For yall that don’t know let me translate:
“YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHAT I’M SAYING SO DON’T MAKE ME ACT UP OUT HERE!!!”

He got the message along with the manager. Who then brought out some sponge like, no flavor having tri-color cake to try & appease me. It was so nasty I simply asked for my bill, paid the $48 (I got a shrimp cocktail for an appetizer with 4 semi-jumbo shrimp) and rolled the hell out. It wasn’t till I got back to work I realized them MFR’s had charged me for the cake too!!!