Black Girl In The City.


Stop Clowning Around!
June 11, 2008, 4:20 am
Filed under: Dating N Stuff | Tags:


I could not stop laughing…

“He said when he gets home, it’s daddy time. He needs good food, good head and good sex,” she laughed.

“What!?” I screamed.

“Yea. He was so full of himself. This dude starts talking about flavor flav too.” Her voice still bubbling with amusement, Sasha continued…

“Girl. This fool was talking about how ugly flav is and how he has more money than flave and he should be on that show. He couldn’t figure out why those girls were clamoring over such a raggedy dude and if it were him he would have all of the hoes in check…but in the next breath says how much he can’t stand hatin’ azz n****s in this city.”

I nearly peed myself. “Did it dawn on him that he was the hater he hated?” I said cracking up.

Sasha and I we were talking about the same guy I went on a date with a couple of months ago. It wasn’t until she told me about it that I guessed who he was because his game was all the same. Sasha went on to tell me about how he tired to get her to sleep with him on the same, “First date.” If he only knew how much of a clown the women in this city thought he was he’d sit his ass down. You’re killing us dude.

photography by Ruud de Jong

“I tried to tell you,” I warned. Kimora and I were on our way to kick it with the homies at the pool.

“Yea, I wonder when I should drop the bomb,” she asked.

I shook my head as we got on the 75/85 South exit, “What bomb? He’s as dumb as piece of shit. No personality, he’d just look at you and then it would take about 20 more minutes to comprehend and digest the last sentence!”

“He’s a log. We went to dinner and he had nothing to say at all. How can someone that beautiful be that BORING!?”

“His penis is small too. Hate to break it to you,” I said casually balancing a bottle of Evian in one hand and the steering wheel in the other.

“Oh great!” she laughed. “Tell him about me and see what he says, lol. Maybe his paperbaggin ass personality will come to life once you let him know who your home girl is.”

We were laughing at Tony (name changed). Yet another flame of the past that had managed to circumvent his way into my circle of home girls without even knowing it. Granted Tony was a successful model and all of that, but what good does that do if you’re as dumb as a frickin doorknob AND you’re D-game is wack? When I tell you this dude has absolutely NO conversational quality about him unless it has to do with sports, beer, modeling or the club I am so serious. Kimora got to see for herself, though. Yet another, ‘damn I know that dude’ happenstance that we girlfriends have been experiencing a lot lately. It’s a given that we run new prospects by each other before wasting our time…unless we just need the entertainment.

If Tony knew that referred to him as a dumb clown with no business about himself he would get his shyt together.  Looks can only get you so far with women of substance.

photography by rinze van brug

I was standing in my closet trying to figure out what panties to wear for the evening. Had my phone on speaker talking to Elaina…

“Take your damn mouth out of the phone E, I can’t hear you!” I said fumbling through my drawer. I could see the Latina thick lips that her fellas loved sooo much blocking all forms of audible communication, lol.

“My bad chica. I was saying he was a pretty cool guy, he just had bad breath.”

“Then he wasn’t cool,” I said, “Did he try to kiss you?”

“Oh hellz no! I got the hell on. I had my other friend come and pick me up from the restaurant. I bounced on him,” she laughed.

“That’s shitty.”

“No his breath was. And so was he for being in my presence like that,” she moaned.

“Yea, plus nobody wants to hear someone talk about their money all of the time,” I shrugged still uncertain about the panty selection. When in doubt…

“Well I was thinkin If he has so much money then he should do something about that grill problem,” she said.

“Yea. But you know…money, hoes and clothes. He dresses fresh, doesn’t that count?” I tired not to laugh.

“Gross and no. His breath smelled like someone shitted in his mouth for three weeks straight and left it there to decompose,” I could hear her fingers tapping on computer keys in the background.

“I’m gonna puke. What are you doing? Looking at porn?”

Her typing stopped, accompanied with a brief silence. “Nah. I was emailing Kurt (name changed).”

“What the phuk is your problem!” I screamed.

Kurt was that loser boyfriend of hers who was well known to the public eye and took every waking advantage of it. Atlanta is a honey nest for groupies tryna get a free a meal and their rent paid. I’ve seen him in action and he takes no prisoners with any of them. Even though Elaina wasn’t a groupie she was still a caker. If she had a choice between buying her own Balenciaga or letting a ‘baller’ buy it in exchange for a few free kisses and a chance to be arm candy then…

Kurt treated her like shit and gets no respect from me. But it was her fault too…but Elaina didn’t care so long as he took her out to eat a couple of times of week and funded her expensive taste in retail.

“He’s a dog. Thought you were done with him.” I frowned.

“I am! I left something at his house and needed to get it,” she said.

“Liar.”

“No for real.”

“For real my ass. Stink breath boy and your no-good wanna be part time of whoring man are clowns. What’s wrong with you?”

“Shit black girl, what’s right with me is the question!”

“Nothing if you keep clown cakin on the regular dumbie!”

“Where you wanna go baby? Anywhere in the world.”

My stomach was going to hurt. If I had to sit and listen to another fool attempt to talk hype with no intentions on delivery I would scream.

“I don’t know,” I said dryly. I was more interested in smacking the shyt out of the woman doing my manicure. I told her NOT to cut my cuticles and she did anyway. I wanted Helen to do my hands and feet but didn’t have time. Needed two Asian chicks on me like whoa. Busy lady got busy things to do. LOL

“Mexico? Brazil? You look like you wanna go some place hot,” he slithered.

As badly as I wanted to say, “Sure thing, just not with you,” I opted for a friendlier, “Yea I like hot places.”

I rolled my eyes and gave the manicurist the meanest look in America. Stop cutting my cuticles or that’s your tip.

Listening to this fool talk shyt out of the side of his 43 year old dry peelin lips was the best entertainment I could get since my hands were tied up and I couldn’t play Tetris on my blackberry.

“Let me take you to red lobster tonight.”

What?! I’m so sorry ya’ll but it was at that point that I had to burst out laughing. If you coulda heard the way he said it, “Reeeeeddd Looobbsttterrr,” like it was the best thing since 103 West you would crack up too. I couldn’t help but laugh at how much dude was clowning himself!

Don’t get me wrong! I’m a cool chick, Waffle House, Red Lobster and 103 West are all the same to me. It was the fact that he was tryna sell me on some wack shit like he was really doing something spectacular. I may look like I’m 21 but I’m no whipper snapper, lol. 😉

“What’s so funny?” he was a little confused with my outburst.

“Yo. I hate it when men talk about all the stuff they are going to do for me and where they wanna take me. You don’t think I’ve heard all of this befo–”

“I’m different though,” he interrupted.

“Well if you are don’t say shit! Damn! You are 43, you should know that. You sound like you’re full of crap to me. I don’t believe you..why? Because you’re talking about it so much. Action speaks multitude. I’ve listened to you run down every last thing you would do for me and to me for the past 30 minutes but you don’t even know my last name!” Helen looked up from my feet and smiled.

“I do know it,” he retorted.

“Ok…”

“It starts with a P right?”

“Hey, let me call you right back ok?” I didn’t even give him time to answer before I pressed the pretty little red button.

“You’re not going to call him back are you?” Helen asked as she draped each toe nail in my favorite hot pink color.

“Nope,” I said tossing my phone to the side table with my free hand, “He’s a clown.”

“Haha!” she laughed. “A clown. I know lots of those. I like that word.”

“Yea, well I’m beginning not to.”

You get the point.

-black girl

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5 Comments so far
Leave a comment

today’s post reminded me why i love reading this blog! dudes really need to quit with the foolishness.

Comment by dot

Men just kill me! Really…they are too funny for words. And the bad part about it is..they don’t even know it. Foolery at its best!

Comment by Southern_Lady

OMG. I can’t stop laughing! I heart your blog.

Comment by lovnlife

WOOOOOOW….this is how it is pimpin. Need that book!

Comment by Snuffa Luffagus

First..that bathing suit in the first picture is FIRE!! The flowers on it!!! I LUV it. I know, its the drag-queen in me.
Second…shitty breath?!!?! LOL. oh Hewllll No! Girl…this blog is touching the hearts and souls of sooo many girls. Why? Because decent men with integrity are extinct.
thats why.
and AMEN to this: ‘Looks can only get you so far with women of substance.’

Comment by Ray




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