Friday Funnies... the Fashion Edition

So...

As you know, I sit in a new cubicle area. The people are interesting enough. Earlier this week I wrote about making cubicle mate E a batch of oatmeal raisin cranberry walnut cookies. E sits in the cubicle behind mine. I think he is very happy that I sit in front of him.

And then there's the chick that sits in front of me. Dr. Hazel Eyes.

I have talked about her before. That is my online name for her, for the obvious reasons. And when my brother Milk and Cookies was a teenager, he'd come down to the job to see me, and he would whisper to me in his best low voice "Is the lady with the hazel eyes here?  Can we go see her?"

*ladylee kicks the hard eyeroll as Milk and Cookies smiles with anticipation*

So now... I sit behind her.

And last Friday I saw her come back from lunch. I noticed the purse she draped over her shoulder. It had one strap. I thought that was interesting... and perplexing.

So later, as I passed by her desk, I asked if I could see her purse. She was on the phone at the time, but she handed it to me in one move, without looking, and while still continuing talking on the phone.

It was a nice purse. And it was a purse with one strap.

I brushed my hand across the cool surface. It was real leather, not that fake leather. I glanced at Dr. Hazel Eyes, wishing she would get off the phone. She continued talking. I looked back at the purse, examined the tag hanging from the side.

"U-G-G," I said slowly. I glanced back down at Dr. Hazel Eyes.

"U-G-G," I said again to myself.

"U Gucci Gucci," I thought to myself.

Dang. This chick done bought some doggone Gucci knockoff purse. I was gonna jone on her once she got off the phone.

Dr. Hazel Eyes had bought a U-Gucci-Gucci purse. The question was though, what did the "U" stand for?

Who knew?

"Look," I pointed, not caring whether she was on the phone or not. "What does this mean?"

"Ugg," she mouthed. She pointed at her shoes. "Uggs."

Uggs.  Those were some type of boots. They were the eskimo snow boots people wore. I only paid any attention to them because I saw some girl wearing them in the summertime.

Then I looked down at Dr. Hazel Eyes shoes.

Dang. When did the folks at UGG start making sneakers. Wow. And they looked like Nikes. Or Reeboks.

Of course I figured out after a moment that these are regular sneakers. Some Nikes or something. But for a moment I thought they were UGG. Well I don't know what they are. But I knew if I reached down and lifted her pants leg to look at the brand, she would kick my tail.

All while still talking on the phone.

She laughed later when I told her my thoughts on the U-Gucci-Gucci.

I decided to leave her alone while she is on the phone in the future.

This was funny. So funny that I can be dense like that.

Well, fashionably dense.

But that's alright. I got educated that day.

And you had to be there. It was indeed funny,.

And with that said, you be sure to have a good laugh... and a good weekend.

On purpose.

Friday Funnies: An Open Letter to Ex-Mom... from Lucy Jr. (formerly "Lexi")

"Lady M", the former owner of Lucy Jr., really loved the car she sold to me. I thought I would allow Lucy Jr. to write her a little letter to her, her ex-Mom... just to let her know how she is doing.


Dear Ex-Mom...

It's me? Lexi!

Remember me? You were my Mom for over 10 years!

Oh what a great Mom you were! But you're my Ex-Mom now. Sigh.

Oh my. It feels so funny calling you that. Ex-Mom? Geez. But that is what you are. Sigh.

If I had eyes, they'd be full of tears, and I would just cry, cry, cry.

Enough of that. I must be a big girl and pull myself together and write this letter!

It is interesting, this having a new Mom and a new home.

I didn't know what to think when we pulled up at the new house.

It looks nice enough. And there were pretty flowers out in front. It was nice and quiet.

There was another car in the driveway. This must be my new sibling, I thought.

"Hello," I said. "My name is Lexi!"

"Hi," the car said. "My name is Pam. And uh... your name isn't Lexi anymore. It's Lucy Jr."

"Lucy Jr.?"

"Yes, Lucy Jr. There was another car here just like you.  Her name was Lucy. But she was wrecked. I heard she was totaled. Now you're here. You're Lucinda. Lucy 2.0. L Deuce. You're Lucy Jr."

Lucy Jr.. I pondered this. Such an odd name. But I guess I would have to accept it.

Ex-Mom, I continued to look all around and around. It was very quiet, but you never know with new places.

"Do they treat you good around here?" I asked Pam.

"Yes. And you'll be treated just fine, especially since you'll be kept in the garage."

"Garage?"

Pam paused before answering. "Yes, the garage. That is a room for you and all of Ladylee's junk."

"Okay," I replied. Garage. I was kept in a carport before. So if it's anything like a garage, that will do just fine."

"The garage is good," Pam said. "You won't have to be like me... sitting out here dealing with the rain, the wind, the snow, the ice, the hot hot sun... and this nasty pollen."

"Pollen?"

"Yes, the yellow stuff. You have some on you there. LadyLee sprays me with water from the hose if we have to go anywhere. Won't be that much of a problem when you're kept in the garage. It is nice in there. There are two large picture windows. And you get to stare at the deep freezer up against the back wall. You're special."

"I'm special," I said. "I am."

"Yes, you are," Pam said. She hesitated. "And we should stop talking. I have to admit that I'm trying to get over not being kept in the garage."

Hmmm... Did I sense a bit of hostility, ex-Mom? I hope not. I don't want trouble with the other car.

Oh well. Into the garage I went.

"LadyLee is gonna clean it out when it gets warm out," Pam hollered as the garage door closed. "And you'll have much more room."

Much more room. That would be nice. And maybe the new sibling Pam could come join me.

And we could stare at the deep freezer together.

Hmm...

I have been at my new place for a whole week, ex-Mom. Can you imagine? A whole week away from you. It is pretty quiet here. I haven't been driven much on the weekdays, but last weekend? We were allll over Atlanta

I was tired. Sooooo tired.

Last Saturday I carried LadyLee to the westside to Bankhead Library. She is in some strange group called the Triple F Posse. This didn't sound quite right to me. I thought it was some gang type of thing. I thought I would have to take on my L Deuce persona. I thought she would leave me running outside so she could make a quick getaway. But it wasn't! It is a financial group- the Financial Freedom Fighters. They talk about their financial goals and budgets. I felt better after hearing that!

Afterwards, several of the group headed down the street to Bankhead Seafood for some fish. There I am, parked out front.

Oh, this place... it's what they call the "Hood", ex-Mom. Oh my. I saw some sights while there. Not sure I want to go back. Oh my.

But LadyLee got her fish... a full tray for 5 dollars.

(If you ask me, ex-Mom... something's wrong with that. Even I know fish should cost more than that. But I wasn't going to point that out to LadyLee. I didn't want to upset the new Mom).

And it wasn't for her anyway. It was for her sister. LadyLee wanted the hush puppies!

Afterwards, I transported LadyLee to a veternarian hospital, all the way over on the eastside. Decatur! That's me, parked outside the place and waiting for her.

She had to pick up a case of food for her cat. I don't think she was too happy about that. I could tell by the way she was gripping the steering wheel. Very tight. Too tight!

We stopped at a local gourmet grocer in Candler Park on the way home. LadyLee wanted some fresh made hummus. She quickly got that and we were on our way back to the new home.

Now, I asked Pam about the hard gripping of my steering wheel, when we arrived home.

"She's pissed about that cat food. That is the Oldcat Oscar-Tyrone's cat food. That cat food costs $67 a case. He has pancreatis and hepatitis. Poor thing. And LadyLee doesn't like shelling out that cash for that."

"I can only imagine," I said.

"And it doesn't help that that's the ex-husbands cat. Doesn't help at all."

(Hmm. That Pam. She know, she's a gossipy car. Gossipy indeed.)

Anyway, the next day we were at it again. Brunch with LadyLee's sister waaay out on the Southside!

And LadyLee likes going way out to the southside. She likes to get gas while she's in the surburbs. It costs a little less than inner city gas. It means good cheap gas for me!

"I'll take a tank of premium," I whispered to her. She nodded yes, and proceeded to fill the tank.

"Thank you very much, LadyLee."

Ooooh-weeee! Golly gee whiz! Nothing like a full tank of gas!

LadyLee hung out with her sister for a couple of hours. And then we were headed back to the new home.  There was plenty of loud music. Too much base. My speakers hurt!

Ex-mom... her music selections are... strange. That's a good word: strange.

This new mom... She listens to a lot of Roy Ayers.




Songs about butterflies, bees, flowers and sunshine and the like...

O_o. 

Just odd.

And then she likes to play the song she played to test the car system out... you know, when she finished  her test drive? That Anita Baker song.



Oh Ex-mom... it's my official song! I do remember the two of you fiddling with the CD changer. And that song beginning to play!

If I had eyes, I would cry, cry, cry!

*lucy jr. composes herself*

I am doing well, ex-Mom. Just fine.

I think you left me in good hands. Mama LadyLee will do just fine, as long as she get me the good gas and plays that Anita Baker!

So I wanted to just write you a letter to let you know how I am doing.

I won't bother you anymore. I didn't want you to worry.

I am in good hands. Yes I am!

Love,

Love, Lucy Jr.

formerly "Lexi".



Ha ha...

Oh my. Blog family thinks I've been drinking a bit too much, huh?

Nope, not me. Unless someone slipped something in this non-alcoholic beer of mine.

I just wanted to send a little note to "Lady M".

What a nice chick you are... and here I was, making up things about you when I ran the VIN number through one of the report sites.

"Look at these low miles the past year for this car," I told my cubicle mate Cowgirl Cre. "Under 1000 miles. Wonder what that's about."

"It may mean she works from home, LadyLee," Cowgirl Cre said.

"No, it doesn't. That chick has been in jail. She had to park the car for a year while she was locked up."

LOL

And your email address had me wondering. "Hmm... Sounds like a tattoo parlor.  I bet she's a tattoo artist. She messed up somebody's tattoo and she beat the person up when they complained. So she was locked up for a year."

My imagination. It is quite vivid.

Oh my. You were none of that! Thank goodness!

And thank goodness you didn't have a scavenger hunt, or some ol' crazy Lady M Hunger games madness for a chance to buy the car. (Yes, it is a very good car. I think I would've particpated, although begrudginly).  And what a great 15 minute test drive we had. You actually kicked a little wisdom my way. And that's a good thing! Even if i didn't buy the car, that was well worth it in itself!

There is a slogan that states "One man's trash is another man's treasure."

I feel in this case we can change it to "One woman's treasure can become another woman's treasure."

Because I know "Lexi" was Lady M's treasure. A treasure for so many years.

So with that said, this has been a good week with Lucy Jr. I get in the car and can't even tell the difference from the other car.  How cool is that!?

I will definitely take good care of her!

Yes indeed!

Friday Funnies for Thought: "Polly Wanna Cracker?"

I let one of my Stalker Stan Fans read this yesterday, something I posted way back in 2008... She'd been dranking much water and almost peed her pants while reading it..

Don't you all do that... YOU go use the bathroom before you read this piece.

This is a repost. If you read it before, read it again. It's so nice, read it twice! lol

This is a companion piece to yesterday's post... sort of. One of the few "funnies-for-thoughts" I have here on blog. I realized a week ago, when I'm worried or stressed, I sing. And it chases the blues away... And this post was the beginning of that.

Enjoy...



One of my favorite authors, That Original Oldgirl Chele, wrote a post back on August 13th on her Writers Blog entitled "Breathe... just Breathe" that simply stated the following:

"I was just handed an assignment to interview a parrot.**There are no words**"

LOL! Imagine that!

It made me laugh...

Because it made me think of my own interaction with a parrot back in 2001.

My car's odometer had hit the 60,000 mile mark. Well, it was reading around 62,000 miles. And you know what that means: time for that big service- replacement of time belt, water pump, transmission service and the like.

I was living in New Orle.ans at the time. A sista in my group, a wonderful mentor and a fellow Doc, a great microbiologist, Maureen, had a Mazda. She was a New Orleans native, and I went to her for advice on who to go to for this service.

"I take my car to Excellent Auto Service," she said.
I leaned against the doorjamb of her office and crossed my arms across my chest. "Uh, that's the actual name of a shop?"
"Yeah, been going there for years. The guy does a good job."
"Okay," I said.

I trusted her on that. Maureen was the woman. She was a BAD sista. She knew EVERYTHING.

So, I called and made an appointment. A week later, I dropped my car off at the shop.

The mechanic was nice. Looked like Tony Danza, lol. He told me to have a seat in the waiting room and he'd be back to take my information and give me an estimate.

I walked into the huge waiting room, and saw a LARGE cage that basically covered a whole wall. I mean, it was BIG! It had big tree limbs and all kinds of forest type stuff (probably all fake).


And in that cage was a big colorful parrot.

He was sitting on a branch, and looked my way when I'd walked into the room.

I walked over to the the cage and stared back at it. He flew to a branch closer to me and peered at me curiously.

"Polly wanna a cracker?" I asked in a high pitched voice.

The bird blinked. And continued staring.

I whistled at it a couple of times, made a few of the kissy noises one makes at dogs. And I asked the same question over and over again.

"Polly wanna cracker?"

Bird stared.

Then, the parrot threw back it's head and yelled "Ohhhhhhhhh!"

Oh Lord, I thought. I'd upset the bird. I turned to go sit down in one of the chairs, hoping that that the mechanic didn't run in the room and ask me what I did to upset his precious bird.

The bird yelled again. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh beautiful!"

I turned back to the cage. "You calling me beautiful, birdie? Thank you!"

A compliment from a bird! How nice, I thought.

The bird blinked. Stared at me for a moment. Then started yelling REAL Loud.

Or should I say singing real loud:

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Beautiful!
For spaaaaaacious skies!
For amber waves of graaaaaaaaaaaaain!
For perfect mountains majesty!
Above the fruited plains!
Amerrrrrica! Amerrrrrrica!
God shed his grace on theeeeeeee!
And crown our good!
With brotherhood!
From sea to shining seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeea!

*LadyLee looking around the room to see if she was on candid camera*

Dang! Tripped me out.

Parrot just stared at me.

I didn't know what to say. After a moment, I said "You're a patriotic parrot."

It flapped its wings and started up again.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh Beautiful...

For some reason, I stood erect and placed my hand over my heart, and sang with it.

It gave me the *gas face* when I messed up the words (I still don't know the words), but I caught on...

And we sang America the Beautiful together a good four times. The bird swayed back and forth on his branch. I stood in the at the front of the cage, my hand on my heart, singing along.

I had NO idea where my mechanic was. But I was glad he was taking his time.

I spoke to him later. He'd ran up on me and that bird singing. (Of course, I tried to play it off, lol)
"You like my bird?"
"Yeah. He sure is patriotic."
"I taught him that song a few years ago. That's all he sings."
"Well, that's a good thing. He could be singing something derogatory."

We laughed. I got my estimate, and called a friend to pick me up.

I'm glad I ran into that bird. I was in a funk for the good part of that week. At the same time I was skipping around all happy because I'd just gotten offer for the job I have now, back in my hometown of Atlanta. I'd secured a nice condo to live in. Things were going WELL for ME. I was happy.

But there had been a couple of jacked up arguments with the hubby at home.

He was a manager at one of the local strip clubs, and he called one night to let me know that he was bringing one of his strippers home. She was drunk, was passed out, and he didn't want to leave her on the side of the club.


"Anything could happen to her, Lee. We're locking up, and I don't want to leave her here on the side of the road."
"Take her butt home," I suggested.
"That's all the way over on the West Bank," he said. "And you know that I don't have a car." [His had been repossessed.]

I was quiet. I had a car. And my car was off limits. He caught rides or walked wherever he needed to go. He use to chauffeur those broads around in his own car and would complain to ME about finding crack pipes and syringes in his ride. Can't use my car, bruh!

"I'm bringing her home."
"Where is everybody at?" I asked.
"They are gone. I didn't notice she was here until I did my final check for the night. She was passed out. I can't leave her here," he wailed.

I didn't say a word.

"I'm bringing her home."
"Do what you wanna do, man. I'm leaving Egypt anyway!"
"What's that suppose to mean?"

I didn't reply. Just hung up on him. It was 3 in the morning, and I needed to get some sleep. I looked out the window when he came home in a cab... with his drunk stripper.

My first thought was to grab one of the many shotguns, .38s, or .45s we had laying around the house and shoot negroes. But I would've gotten locked up behind that one.

Which meant I'd be stuck in Egypt, i.e. New Or.leans.

That wasn't going down.

You see, I'd been hollering HARD at work, to everyone's dismay:

"MY NAME IS MOSES, AND I AM LEAVING EGYPT!"

I was LOUD with that ish. I mean, EVERY time I stepped in the breakroom, in the halls, anywhere. The director pulled me to the side one day and asked "Dr. LadyLee, are you alright?"

LOL.

Anyway, I woke up the next morning and saw Tylenol on the counter. My hubby was sitting on the couch. He gave me a hard glare, as if he was daring me to say something.

"So you really brought her home, didn't you?"
"Yeah, I did. That's what I said I was doing, didn't I?"

He looked like he wanted to buck. He'd never hit me, but uh... he looked like he wanted to then.

I left it alone. I needed to get to work. I was packing up my office that day.

This whole thing did upset me. I would be lying if I said it didn't. For those who know me, I tend to hide my feelings (More often than not, I get verbally stomped if I express an opinion of any sort. I am getting better, though, I suppose).

For some strange reason I was REALLY popular among the employees on my job. There was a sign-up list in my office of whoever wanted to take me to lunch or dinner or spend some time with me before we left. (I spent the day with one Creole cutie that I had a slight crush on. Hung out in the Central Business District visiting his favorite places, even hung out at his grandma's house, met his kids...OH MY).

I mean, folks made going away videos, gave me HUGE going away parties.... DANG! It was overwhelming...

But that stripper mess was on my mind. It was like a storm cloud that had moved in over a sunny day at the beach.

During some of these "meetings" with a few lady friends, I discussed it with them. All of them basically said:

"Lee, you shoulda cussed him out."
"I wouldn't have allowed that sh**!"
"Lee, you shoulda bust him in the head!"
"You a much better woman than me, Lee! I woulda got locked up for murder that night."

"N'awl. We got too many weapons in the house," was my simple reply. "Somebody woulda got shot that night. And besides, my name is Moses, and I'm raising up outta Egypt."

I remember one of my homegirls down there pulling me to the side and saying "I've talked to some of my girls and they're prepared to go catch up with your boy over at the Su.gar Shack and beat his ass. You just give the word."

"N'awl. That's okay. Ya'll trying to have me locked up. And besides, My name is Moses, and I'm leaving Egypt."

I was still miffed by it all. Didn't speak to the hubby for a week. That type of thing messes with your "womaness". I mean, it really made me question my worth. And that ain't good.

And then... I took my car in, and met a parrot.
A caged parrot.
A parrot who, though caged, had a song in it's heart.
And I sang a song with a parrot.

Hmmm.

You know how a song can get stuck in your head?

Well, after singing America the Beautiful with a parrot four times in a row, I was humming that song, singing it around the house...

While I packed dishes.
While I got together old clothes to take down to the local teen runaway center.
While I made plans to have my cable and lights turned off down there and turned on up in Atlanta.

The hubby came in one day.

"What's wrong with you? Why you keep singing America?"
"Just singing a song, man. And packing my stuff."

He milled around watching me pack. I paid him no mine.

"Lee, I'm sorry for bringing that stripper home. I just didn't know what to do."
"Don't apologize. You take care of them hos better than you take care of me. That's on you. All I know is that you better pack. This lease is in my name, and once I turn the keys in, you are homeless."

Well that started an argument. His voice was shaky like he was about to cry or something. He was blinking hard. Whatever.

He was staying in New Or.leans a bit longer. I was leaving.

I hummed my song. He stormed out the house.

I thought about the simple lesson I learned from a mere parrot.

Even though I was in a bad situation, I could still sing a song. And choose to be happy anyway.

So Chele...

Interview your parrot, Oldgirl. Yeah, I know, I know, it's silly.

But do it anyway.

No telling what lesson you may learn.

I got worms, Man!

For that Botanical Chick Carleen's amusement, because I think she'd give a *blank stare* and get a kick out of this, lol.

Somethin's nibblin' on my cabbages!
I said. . . Something's eating my cabbages!!!!!!

I have two cabbage plants out in the garden, and something is taring them up! Most likely, it's cabbage worms!

I got worms, Man!

*LadyLee faints out in the afternoon sun*

No, I didn't faint. But I did laugh.

It all reminded me of my group secretary Dee's gardening dilemma.


Dee likes to grow collard greens in her garden every year.

It's always a joy to hear her exclaim with such fervor and glee...

"Dr. LadyLee, I got some collards growing out there in the garden!"

"Chile, they are delicious. Picked 'em just before that first frost. They were so good."

So, a few years ago she came over and sat in the cubicle area. She comes over and sits and chit-chats with us from time to time.

I asked her about her beloved collard greens.

"Dee, how them greens growing this year?"
She got all quiet. Her eyes got big. "I guess they alright," she said, her voice quiet.
"What's wrong?" I asked. "You having problems with them?"
"Chile, the bugs was getting all in them. Eating up my good greens!"
"That ain't good, Dee."
She got all quiet again. Eyes got all big again. "I sprayed some spray on them, Dr. LadyLee."

I guess I could see why she was worried. Many folks like their garden to be organic, with no pesticides.

"That's alright, Dee. Gotta get rid of the bugs, you know."
"Chile, I sprayed some Hot shot on them greens."

Now, there were several of us milling around, but when she mentioned the Hot Shot Bug spray?

All conversation stopped. Then picked back up after our silence.

"WHAT?" I said. I just knew that I didn't just hear her talk about spraying "Hot Shot" bug spray on the greens.
"I said I sprayed some Hot Shot on the greens!"
"Are you serious?" I barked. "You can't do that!"
"Chile, them bugs was eating up my greens."

We just stared at each other for a moment.

"Well?" I asked.
"Well what, Dr. LadyLee?"
"Well, did it work?"
"No. Them bugs still eating up my collards!"

I just shook my head.

"Dee, make sure you wash the greens off real good before you cook them."
"Oh, I didn't cook any. I gave some to my sister, though."
"WHAT??""Sure did," she said."Did you tell her that you sprayed roach spray on the greens?"
She shook her head hard. "Chile, no! I just gave them to her. I was hoping that she would be alright."

*huge crickets*

"DANG, DEE!!" I yelled. "What if she get sick?!?!?"
"Oh, she cooked them already. She said they were good. And she seem to be alright."

Roach spray on collard greens to kill bugs.

I. have. heard. it. ALL, Man!!!

I told her to go get some Sevin-Dust and sprinkle it on the plants. That kills the critters. I'm going to have to get a little of my own to deal with this cabbage issha.

But we still talk about that to this very day.

"You a fool, Dee!" I always yell. "Frickin' bug spray on the greens!"

"Chile, I was trying to get rid of them bugs!"

That reminds me:

I have some flying insect spray beneath the kitchen sink.

I wonder. . . Oh, I wonder if that will do until I make it to Home Depot??

LOL!!

Friday Funnies!

**So much stuff happens to me and so many thoughts go through my mind that I find FUNNY... I thought I would start a little something called Friday Funnies: little funny stuff that went on that week.

Dedicated to the GOOD NURSE, NurSE CooK. Shorty, we gots to hook up soon, now!! I know we some Divas, with some Diva-like schedules, but come on now... holla at me!

Buzzzzzed... I had some type of Caramel drink from Starbucks this morning. Usually I get a steamed milk with a shot of coffee and a shot of vanilla or caramel syrup, without the whipped cream. This morning, they threw some expresso in my steamed milk... I was trying to tell that broad ringing up my order "NO!!" but she ignored me. I was too tired to protest. I was NOT down for the early morning arguments. I mean, I come in a couple of times a month and get the same thing. Why I gotta EXPLAIN it each and every time?

I am NOT a coffee drinker! I just want my steamed milk with a quick shot of coffee... THAT'S ALL!

So right now, at one in the afternoon, I am feeling like this:

I'm all buzzed up, and I haven't had a thing to eat today. I probably won't eat until dinner. I'm hurting right about now, babes! Uggh!! Really though!

The Milk and Cookies! My sister Kentucky told me that our brother Milk and Cookies was in town.

We're still in awe of the wide legged ant/bug with its head smashed off tribal tattoo. Grandma is the most perplexed of all.

[Note to self: Buy Milk and Cookies a BIG bottle of expensive lotion. I swear, he's got to be the ashiest negro on the planet!]

Now, you'll notice that I said that my sis Kentucky said he was in town. He don't like to call me when he's in town... He likes to "sneak up" on me, which means he likes to use his key to come in late at night and suprise me. There is NOTHING worse than hearing the 3 note chime of the door alarm, signaling that a door is open, and knowing that it is not myself or my sister coming in. I'm sitting there yelling out my sister's name... and it isn't her.

Yeah, he gets a kick out of that.

I called him today to catch him before he pulled this little stunt.

"Be careful boy, or you'll be staring at my glock!"

*Silence*

"You got a glock, Lee?"

*More Silence*

I'll let him sit and ponder that for awhile.

Work. I don't know what is with my job. As you know, I am a chemist. Now on Monday through Wednesday, the workload is light, but things pick up a bit on Thursday. Then on Friday, it's like "BAM!!!". We're hustling to get everything done. What makes things worse is that since this is a long holiday weekend (President's day on Monday), many negroes took today off, so um... my boss has me doing extra work. I usually get samples at the end of the process, but I had to take them through the WHOLE process which is RARE for me. I bitch and I moan... Darth Sista ignores me.

Anyway, this means I have to spend a bit of time back deep in the labs. Which means I'm going to have my music BLASTING (MUCH to the Darth Sista T's dismay). I usually hook my laptop up to some bootleg speakers, throw on some unusally long 8 hour mix, and keep it moving. But my laptop chord is fried (Uggh! I ordered another one express, and should get it today!) And I left my bootleg CDs at home (I was too lazy to go down in the garage and get them out of the car. ~sigh).

So I was about to be looking real crazy... working in the lab in silence. Ick!

But I happen to find a random bootleg CD in the lab under some paperwork.

And here's the song list:

1. Everlasting Love- Chaka Khan
2. Do You Know? (Theme from Mahoghany)- Diana Ross
3. Disco Nights- GQ
4. Devotion (Live)-Earth, Wind, and Fire
5. Push Push in the Bush - Musique
6. You Make Me Feel Mighty Real - Sylvester
7. Young Hearts Run Free - Candi Staten
8. Sign Your name across my Heart - Terrence Trent D'Arby
9. Wishing Well - Terrence Trent D'Arby
10. Beautiful Ones - Prince
11. Don't Leave Me this Way - Thelma Houston
12. Owner of a Lonely Heart - Yes
13. There You Go - Johnny Gill
14. Make It Last Forever - Keith Sweat
15. Your Child - Mary J. Blige
16. These Boots Were Made for Walking - Nancy Sinatra
17. Fly Robin Fly
18. He's the Greatest Dancer - Sister Sledge

*Crickets*

I call this my "Lee must have been smoking dope and getting blunted when she made this" mixtape.

The mix is a bit, um... weird.

For the life of me, I have no idea WHY I put these songs on a CD together. No idea. The CD is dated "8/21/06", and that's it. Heck, I don't even remember making this CD. But I burn a lot of CDs. I usually throw them away when I get tired of them. Fortunately (or unfortunately) this one was still around. I think I will keep it for emergencies like today, when I really need some music back in the labs.

Anyway, I put this CD on in the lab, and got some strange looks from the Infamous Hen-Dog.

Especially when I started playing song #6:

Over...
and over...
and over and over...
and over and over and over...

*LadyLee screeching REAL HARD: "Yoooou make me feel, Miiiiiigggggghty Real!*

LOL!!

Hen screamed "Gurl, I'ma need you to turn that off!!"

Hen is useful in the lab, because he will sing and dance, do splits, all kinds of stuff. And he is an excellent hype man!

"Sang it, gal! You sang that song!! You sangin' that song right there! Sho nuff, now!! Sang it like you mean it, gal!!"

Yeah. I like that! He make me feel like I'm the next Amer.ican I.dol!!!

But we are finally finished and out of the lab. (My boss wants me to work overtime tomorrow, to which I yelled "Shawty, stop playing!" It ain't going down, babes!)

Just a few more things to do, then we can break camp!!!

I'm all sung out!!

You all have a great weekend!!

~LL