Now, I’m sensitive to folks with psychological disorders. There are some things that you just can’t help.
But if I was out and about and overheard this girl shouting “nigga” on some general shit, fuck a syndrome. Somebody’s gonna end up going upside her damn head.
Further, peep how there were two girls behind the counter (one black, one white) and the white chick laughed? As soon as the girl and her mother left, I (the black chick) would’ve checked the HELL out of my co-worker.
Also, peep how they spelled “jewelry.” I’m sorry but the geek in me caught that! Look closely!
It is 4:47am. And I am up. No, I am not still up from yesterday. I went to sleep hours ago.
What’s the problem, you ask? I’ll tell you. I was laying in bed in a deep sleep when all of a sudden *bang, bang, bang.* Somebody was knocking on my window. Immediately, I get a little scared b/c nobody here knows me but Dee, and I KNOW she wouldn’t be knocking on my window at this hour. So I let it go, go back to sleep. Two seconds later, *bang, bang, bang.* I hear it again. Again, I decided to let it go b/c I don’t know anyone that would be banging on my window at this hour and I knew that all the people on this hall had a key to get into the locked door. After it happened again, my fear of danger checked out at register 9 and I FURIOUSLY opened my door. I looked at the window and it’s some ‘kid’ standing there. He’s not somebody I recognized but again, my ‘fearless’ attitude at that moment didn’t care.
I pulled the door open and asked him if he had a fucking problem (YES, JUST LIKE THAT). He told me that he was trying to get to the girl that stays next door to me and didn’t have his cell phone to call.
What? You mean to tell me that you just knock on the windows of chicks that you don’t know b/c of some damn booty call that’s obviously not meant to be? I proceeded to curse him out and went back into the room.
After I did all that, I STILL felt as though I had not done enough. Listen, it is hard as hell for me to go to sleep, but even moreso when I’m sick. Getting into a great sleep is like winning the lottery for me. SO, I knock on her door and he unlocks it. I push the door open further and say to her “Listen, I don’t know if your little friend told you, but do you know that this irresponsible son of a bitch just woke me up out of my sleep by banging on my window at 4 something in the morning.”
The words ‘son of a bitch’ left my mouth before RATIONAL Jia could think to control them. But again, when I’m pissed off, I have NO concept of danger. None whatsoever. I am not saying that this is GOOD but when I’m super pissed, I don’t think “Oh, what if this person has a gun or what if that person has a knife.” By then, I don’t give a fuck b/c I feel disrespected.
So she just laid in bed and the whole time, dude is talking to me, trying to tell me (again) why he did it. He said “Look man, you talking to me like I’m a little kid,” to which I responded “To me, mutha fucka, you are a fucking kid…you’re a kid who irresponsibly leaves his cell phone at home and knocks on the windows of strangers so you can get some ass that’s probably not gonna happen.” This jigga says to me “Well, how was I suppose to get in if the door is locked? I had no choice!!”
I don’t give a shit if Jesus is standing at the door and telling you to knock on MY window! If I’m standing here NOW, telling you don’t let that shit happen again, you better not let it happen again!
I slam the door and walk away.
I don’t care what anybody thinks of how I handled it. Don’t wake me out of my sleep b/c your ass is irresponsible and wanting some pussy at 4 something in the morning. FURTHER, don’t tell me how to talk to you when your raggedy ass woke ME up!
Oh.My.GOD! I am so pissed off right now that I can’t see straight. I can not WAIT to get the FUCK out of Chapel Hill!!
I digress. I only want the channel to watch the show.
Now, if you haven’t seen it, feel free to watch the premier episode on Hulu. I actually watched it there and became hooked ever since. I don’t know if it’s b/c I MISS Atlanta that badly OR if it was truly a good show.
Either or, I think that I’m indifferent. I mean, I enjoy what I’ve seen so far. People have been ragging on the show, saying that it gives Atlanta a bad name. Most of the people complaining are people who were born there. But to be honest with you, one of the first things I said when I moved to Atlanta is that it’s full of superficial people. And it really is. I mean, as with everything in life, you have your good and bad. However, in just one night of going to the clubs, you’ll meet a LOT of girls who are looking for that instant celebrity, that 18 year plan. I don’t knock their hustle, though, b/c there are quite a few who try and work for theirs but there are even more who wanna sit on their ass and remain content in being so and so’s wifey.
Anyway, the show is entertaining. Lisa (above, center) is the only one, IMO, who really shows the true meaning of having a man with a lotta dough but carving her own name into stone so that she has her OWN, while anything he brings to the table is icing on the cake.
Alright, I’m a huge fan of being seen and not heard. There are some people in this world who have NO business EVER opening their mouths, unless it’s to insert food or speak when they’re hurt. And even then, write it down.
Soulja Boy, Soulja Boy…I have a love/hate relationship with him. I will admit that I’m one of the “fools” who liked Crank Dat. I bopped my head to it, learned the dance and thought it was the shit. I have NOT followed his career beyond that song b/c the few things that I heard sucked, IMO. But that’s just me.
Nonetheless, I was blog browsing and found this quote from Soulja Boy at The Daily Beast.
Shit like this makes me cringe. It’s like…dude, did you really just say what I THINK you said? Like…word? This one statement alone adds credence to the notion that rappers are idiots who don’t give a shit about ANYTHING in life but bling, weed, and women.
Does he not have a publicist to help him at all? I mean, if it’s that damn serious, Soulja Boy, I will build a PR company from the bottom UP just to ensure that your ass never EVER says things like this again. Then again, that’s probably not a good idea. You might not pay me. ———————————————— Last week in Atlanta, I got to interview Soulja Boy Tell Em. I found out just how young he really is. He was one of about ten rappers I interviewed in one day for my BET show, The Black Carpet. I decided it’d be fun to give all the rappers part of the Proust questionnaire. I thought it’d be a way to get beyond image and into who they really are. Most of the guys gave good, thoughtful, intelligent, sensitive answers. I asked Juelz Santana, “How would you like to die?” He said, “Loved.”
Then came Soulja Boy Tell Em. I asked him, “What historical figure do you most hate?” He was stumped. I said, “Others have said Hitler, bin Laden, the slave masters…” He said, “Oh wait! Hold up! Shout out to the slave masters! Without them we’d still be in Africa.”
My jaw, at this point, was on the ground.”We wouldn’t be here,” he continued, having no idea how far in it he’d stepped, “to get this ice and tattoos.”