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Does the Running Man Dance

Posted by Ty on January 28, 2011

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It's mah burfday. Go me!

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D(amp)A.P. anyone? Post-op tingz in the middle of a pand3mic

Black lives matter. All black lives matter. Also, wear a mask, wash your damned hands, and Happy Juneteenth. Additionally, Happy Birthday, Merry Christians and congratulations. Just wanted to get all the pleasantries of the past year or so out of the way. I haven’t forgotten about you cats and kittens; Carole did it. I should be all caught up by now, no? How ‘bout that Cardi and Meg joint though? Don’t worry, this will not be another thinkpiece about the song, nor feminism, not womanism, nor Kylie. I won’t remind anyone about the Ying Yang Twins either. Seriously, you ain’t forget about them. My only issue is that (well up until recently!) WAP forced me to remind myself that I am barely two months post-op. On June 12, ironically, the same day in which I got baptized and filled with the Holy Ghost 37 years ago and said Hello, Jesus, I said Bye Girl to my reproductive system. For years, fibroids had taken over my body. And I mean my whole body: fibroids, if left untreated, can grow...

A Deep-Fried Friday

On sale at Amazon ! Right now, Saturday, the temps are around a sticky 103. Why we girls can't go topless just for today? Yesterday it reached about 105, depending on whose weather reports you take stock in these days. Today I am reflecting on how I allowed the heat to fry my brain... The heat pulled me in the house at 5pm and that's where I spent my Friday night. I didn't care about not having a life, I had central air! And my not-quite-famous fried chiggen. I retired for the evening before 10 pm, but not before catching another episode of "1,000 Ways to Kill Bad Dates Die". In summary, the best way to die is to get pushed "accidentally" into a vat of hydrochloric acid. Talk about frying! No muss, no fuss. I gulped down the last of my moscato -- to numb the shock of, hello... dude bathed to death! -- and called it a night. By the way, thank goodness I'm not classy and will gladly accept the cheapest twist-capped bottle with a Kangaroo o...

I no longer wish to be handcuffed

I am on FB making my second complaint against ATT in as many months. I can either remain a slave to their service for the next two years, or I can pay $200 to break the contract. Today, two power outages have caused my motherly calls to mini me, and naughty texts to Mr. 6'3 to be delayed since yesterday. What's more,I have three writing conference calls...thank God for Starbucks. In the meantime, massa AT & T and 'em has some cotton that needs pickin' and some babies that need a burpin'. *hums a spiritual underneath the Carolina sunshine*

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Does the Running Man Dance