It's been a long time since I've posted a dream for analyzing, but honestly my vivid dreams have been few and far between. But here's one from this past weekend that should prove quite entertaining. Ready? Ready!
So I'm dating Idris Elba (stop laughing) and he stays over my place one night. In the morning he has to get to work on a set near my apartment, and goes to use the restroom but I'm like "Noooo N's home and I don't want her to know you were here."
But he's all, "I have to meet her eventually."
So fine. They meet and it's awkward as hell. Right then some strangers try cutting through my room to leave this restaurant that is now behind my apartment attached to the buildings and I tell them "no, you gotta go around." I lock the door and Idris leaves.
Ffwd to that night, I see my door is open because people ignored me and have been cutting through my apartment all day. I go out there to talk to them and see everyone dressed in 1970s exploitation film attire and looking high as fuck. They're filming a goddamn movie at the restaurant. I tell one of the production ladies she can't go through my place but she's like, "yeah, we can and we will."
I go OFF. I say "no, you paid for use of the restaurant and alley, not my apartment."
So we argue and this production lady has a whole production team with her but I stand my ground: they CANNOT cut through my apartment to come and go. She says they spoke with my landlord and he gave permission. I say, "I doubt it" and slam the door in her face and lock it. The door has this big window in it, and don't you know this bitch threw a chair through that window? So now it's on. I reach through and slap her in the face through the broken window and when she tries to reach in and hit me I move her arm so a shard of glass slices her. It's a whole ruckus.
They walk away but I know something is up so I scoop up Naomi and leave the apartment, but before I do I see Idris left his shoes in my place, and I'm low key pissed. Who does that? This ain't your house, Idris! But I digress.
Outside, one of the actors on set is wildin' out and a PA has to tell him to chill, so I realize I'm dealing with an amped up cast and crew--what the hell kinda film is this? I'm already nervous because folks have been in my apartment and now the glass is broken so they can get in again, and now I see these ain't normal sober people. So I'm fitna call the cops and shut down production.
But guess what?
It's the movie Idris is working on!
So now I have to choose between being with Idris-fucking-Elba, or standing my ground against this feral cast and crew. I was so troubled by this that I woke up!
Kelly! I know you're reading this; tell me what it all means!
*smooches...vowing to lay off the late-night snacks*
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clearly that was a buffalo wing-induced nightmare!
Showing posts with label CRAZINESS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label CRAZINESS. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 03, 2016
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Where My Tuition Payments Went
ME: someone is trying to get me to watch "Fargo" on TV.
K: Isn't that about wolves? And the wilderness?
ME: No... there's a movie called Fargo with Steve Buscemi but it's not about wolves.
K: Yes! That book, it's a classic, about wolves!
ME (thinking really hard): You mean Call of the Wild?
K: YES! Is it written by someone named Fargo?
ME (googles): NO. It's by Jack London.
K: There's something with an "F" about wolves and the wilderness...
ME: You mean White Fang?
K: Possibly.
ME: How is that anywhere close to "Fargo"?
K: There's a book about wolves! I'm going to find it!
Lord Jesus, help this child of mine. Freshman year has clearly stolen her brain.
*smooches...realizing my kids are me all over again*
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can you think of anything scarier??
K: Isn't that about wolves? And the wilderness?
ME: No... there's a movie called Fargo with Steve Buscemi but it's not about wolves.
K: Yes! That book, it's a classic, about wolves!
ME (thinking really hard): You mean Call of the Wild?
K: YES! Is it written by someone named Fargo?
ME (googles): NO. It's by Jack London.
K: There's something with an "F" about wolves and the wilderness...
ME: You mean White Fang?
K: Possibly.
ME: How is that anywhere close to "Fargo"?
K: There's a book about wolves! I'm going to find it!
Lord Jesus, help this child of mine. Freshman year has clearly stolen her brain.
*smooches...realizing my kids are me all over again*
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can you think of anything scarier??
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
What I Found In My Purse, Pt. 1
Lubricant.
Let me explain.
After my fabulous reading at Pacific Standard on the 17th, I stuck around with some folks and maybe, allegedly had one too many drinks. When it was clear we'd need food to sustain this level of drinking, we decided to leave the bar. And guess what was near the door? A bowl full of condoms and lube. FOR FREE.
So drunk Raquel decided these were MUST-HAVE items, despite the fact that 1) she's not having sex with anyone and B) she already has about 100 condoms at home (a gift from a cousin; a story for another day).
A week ago or so I had a foggy memory about trying to hand out these condoms and lube to some homeless people on the street, only to have my drinking buddies snatch me up and throw me in a cab with a NO MAS, GO HOME. #Rude.
And now fast forward to last night, I'm cleaning out my tote because it weighs about 15lbs and my back can't take it. What do I find at the bottom? Two condoms and two packets of lubricant. It took me a minute to remember how these got in my bag, but there it is. The story of how I found lube in my purse.
Also? JUST SAY NO.
*smooches...remembering why I stopped boozing*
----------
although the stories are pretty blog-worthy...
Let me explain.
After my fabulous reading at Pacific Standard on the 17th, I stuck around with some folks and maybe, allegedly had one too many drinks. When it was clear we'd need food to sustain this level of drinking, we decided to leave the bar. And guess what was near the door? A bowl full of condoms and lube. FOR FREE.
So drunk Raquel decided these were MUST-HAVE items, despite the fact that 1) she's not having sex with anyone and B) she already has about 100 condoms at home (a gift from a cousin; a story for another day).
A week ago or so I had a foggy memory about trying to hand out these condoms and lube to some homeless people on the street, only to have my drinking buddies snatch me up and throw me in a cab with a NO MAS, GO HOME. #Rude.
And now fast forward to last night, I'm cleaning out my tote because it weighs about 15lbs and my back can't take it. What do I find at the bottom? Two condoms and two packets of lubricant. It took me a minute to remember how these got in my bag, but there it is. The story of how I found lube in my purse.
Also? JUST SAY NO.
*smooches...remembering why I stopped boozing*
----------
although the stories are pretty blog-worthy...
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Somehow We Got This Bad Rep...
ME: But now I also have to get cute for your wedding O_o
FRIEND: Lol it might be in DR. Can we stay at your family's house?
ME: What the...? Is she Dominican?
FRIEND: No. Destination wedding! After knowing you I can't date Dominican women.
ME: LOL wait, what?? What did I do?
FRIEND: You're a special kind of crazy.
I'm not sure if I should be insulted, or proud.
*smooches...with plans to crash the wedding anyway*
----------
who gon' check me? if they try to stop me, I'll have my uncles shut that whole shit DOWN! lol
FRIEND: Lol it might be in DR. Can we stay at your family's house?
ME: What the...? Is she Dominican?
FRIEND: No. Destination wedding! After knowing you I can't date Dominican women.
ME: LOL wait, what?? What did I do?
FRIEND: You're a special kind of crazy.
I'm not sure if I should be insulted, or proud.
*smooches...with plans to crash the wedding anyway*
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who gon' check me? if they try to stop me, I'll have my uncles shut that whole shit DOWN! lol
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
FML: A Healthy Jaded Update
Of course I look up what could happen if I just WELPSIES this information away, and WebMD was all
Apparently a severe deficiency can lead to deep depression, paranoia and delusions, memory loss, incontinence, loss of taste and smell, and more, according to this article. CHILD, why am I ALREADY suffering from most of those things?!?! I swear, someone is playing a cruel, cruel joke on me...
Next stop on this crazy train I call the Jaded Health Express: an upper endoscopy. More on that hot mess later.
*smooches...wondering how long 'til BETTER*
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it has to be soon, right?
Monday, April 14, 2014
Alien Abductions Are Real
WHO BELONGS TO THESE SHOES?
WHERE DID THEY TAKE HIM???
 |
| The Lonely Shoes (c) 2014 The Jaded NYer |
*smooches...getting my aluminum foil hat ready*
----------
this is not a drill, ladies and gentlemen!
Monday, December 23, 2013
Be Easy
The holidays can get crazy. Family WILL drive you crazy. Friends and their end-of-the-year happenings will make you crazy. Folks are out here mainlining capitalism + consumerism, capable of cutting your throat for the last doll-of-the-year left on the shelf. It's CRAZY.
I try not to get caught up because listen, ain't nobody got time for the bullshit. If the line at Target is down the block well then, shit, I'll come back another time. Besides, being a recovering Catholic means I can still claim to celebrate the Feast of the Three Kings and send out gifts late. Or just say "fuck it" and only give you a card for Christmas with lots of good cheer. FIGHT ME.
If you don't mind, I'll be over here, chillin', with a normal BP, eating grapes and watching cheesy holiday movies with my babies.
You're welcome to join us.
*smooches...while chillaxin in my jammies*
----------
I might also go swimming; the stress-free possibilities are endless
I try not to get caught up because listen, ain't nobody got time for the bullshit. If the line at Target is down the block well then, shit, I'll come back another time. Besides, being a recovering Catholic means I can still claim to celebrate the Feast of the Three Kings and send out gifts late. Or just say "fuck it" and only give you a card for Christmas with lots of good cheer. FIGHT ME.
If you don't mind, I'll be over here, chillin', with a normal BP, eating grapes and watching cheesy holiday movies with my babies.
You're welcome to join us.
*smooches...while chillaxin in my jammies*
----------
I might also go swimming; the stress-free possibilities are endless
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Germaphobe?
(A conversation that transpired with a friend; we were discussing Terrence Howard's latest nuptials and why anyone would marry him so fast. I say money, friend says "dick too bomb." The thought of Terrence Howard's penis made my stomach turn...)
ME: Ewww. I imagine his dick is too yellow. Almost white. And white peen frightens me. It looks undercooked. Like I'm gonna get salmonella from it.
FRIEND: Let yourself out.
ME: *sigh* Fine
FRIEND: And for the record, light-skinned penis is great. They fuck like they have a point to prove.
ME: LMAO!
FRIEND: I've said too much.
*smooches...not too experienced with light-skinned penis*
----------
but please, feel free to share your tales of Yellow Snake Sex.
ME: Ewww. I imagine his dick is too yellow. Almost white. And white peen frightens me. It looks undercooked. Like I'm gonna get salmonella from it.
FRIEND: Let yourself out.
ME: *sigh* Fine
FRIEND: And for the record, light-skinned penis is great. They fuck like they have a point to prove.
ME: LMAO!
FRIEND: I've said too much.
*smooches...not too experienced with light-skinned penis*
----------
but please, feel free to share your tales of Yellow Snake Sex.
Monday, December 09, 2013
The Jaded Christmas List
I didn't write a Friday post because I said Fridays were reserved for inspirational posts, and I'm fresh out of inspiration. I got nothing. Go do whatever the hell you want- be happy, be miserable, eat babies- I no longer care. Instead, I will drown myself in capitalism and see how that works out. Why not? I have already tried Catholicism, drugs, alcohol, sex, exercise and a Paleo diet. None of it helped. Or maybe I'm being dramatic. WHATEVER, I WANT TO BUY ALL OF THE THINGS SO SHUT UP.
Here's what you need to get me for Christmas to help me on my capitalism journey:
This new wardrobe, ALL BLACK EVERYTHING.
This sneaker, and all its cousins. I'm a size 10.
This house in Azua, Dominican Republic (so I can finally leave this hellhole).
This poster for my bedroom wall.
This man for my bedroom...bed.
That is all.
*smooches...trying not to be too greedy*
----------
this is a real list. for real. buy me something!
Here's what you need to get me for Christmas to help me on my capitalism journey:
This new wardrobe, ALL BLACK EVERYTHING.
This sneaker, and all its cousins. I'm a size 10.
This house in Azua, Dominican Republic (so I can finally leave this hellhole).
This poster for my bedroom wall.
This man for my bedroom...bed.
That is all.
*smooches...trying not to be too greedy*
----------
this is a real list. for real. buy me something!
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
"Kind Naked Feet Pic: Bitch Please, I'm Dominican!"
Let me tell you what happens when you press the statistics tab on blogger: you find out the weird and fabulous ways people end up on your site. Someone actually looked up "kind naked feet pic" and was directed to my site. WHY? I hate feet- everyone knows that. I don't like looking at them, I don't like mine, I don't even like to measure things in "feet"!
Another bunch of crazies typed "bitch please, I'm Dominican" and was directed here and, umm, I don't recall ever writing something like that. SkyNet has clearly developed some sort of technology that reads minds via keystrokes. CLEARLY.
If you ask me this is more proof that Google has waged war with me because I know it's already become self-aware, and that the Robot Apocalypse is near.
I'm on to you, GOOGLE. You won't win. YOU WON'T WIN!
*smooches...thinking that my meds have stopped working*
----------
oh wait, I'm not taking any meds...
Another bunch of crazies typed "bitch please, I'm Dominican" and was directed here and, umm, I don't recall ever writing something like that. SkyNet has clearly developed some sort of technology that reads minds via keystrokes. CLEARLY.
If you ask me this is more proof that Google has waged war with me because I know it's already become self-aware, and that the Robot Apocalypse is near.
I'm on to you, GOOGLE. You won't win. YOU WON'T WIN!
*smooches...thinking that my meds have stopped working*
----------
oh wait, I'm not taking any meds...
Thursday, July 25, 2013
One Angry Duck!
 |
| Donald tried to kill me! |
So this duck was nearly dead, y'all! Its feathers were replaced with this leathery skin and its breathing was labored, so with 15 seasons of ER under my belt, I assessed that the duck was dehydrated and needed to be put in water ASAP. We grabbed a white painter's bucket, filled it with water and yes, put a grown ass duck in the bucket. The effects were immediate. Feathers seemed to reappear and the duck was breathing better and even frolicking in the water. I felt confident enough to leave N in charge of its care while I went off to do some dream-like things.
Cut to N running into the room to inform me that the duck escaped. So I ran around the house looking for it with her, because all of a sudden it was so important we find it. And when we spotted it in the kitchen, IT ATTACKED US. As we tried to coax it back into the bucket it pecked at us and tried to bite us and was flapping its wings angrily at us. I was all, "What the fuck? I just saved your fucking life!"
But this duck would not let up, and my dream self yelled at my real self to wake the hell up; this bird was coming for blood and I wanted out! And then I woke up, relieved.
What the hell, y'all? I haven't eaten duck in nearly two years. Why was this thing trying to cut my throat up with its beak?
UPDATE: So I shared this dream with my co-worker and we decided that K is the duck. So much to think about right now...
*smooches...resolved to never eat almonds before bed again*
-----------
I mean, what else could it have been?
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
The House Negro Diaries, 2013
The Blogger Formerly Known As Smarty, aka Tiffany, told me this weekend that me and my beige counterparts are always the most militant Negroes, and I agree. At least for myself. The evolution of my blackness saw me first DENY it (I'm Spanish/Hispanic/Dominican, not black!) and then slowly come to grips with it (deal with my 'fro, bitches!), culminating in this past weekend when I was ready to join the new Black Panthers or something.
Let's just say I've since been taught to find a happy medium. Whitey doesn't necessarily HAVE TO die, he just needs to be reined in a bit. Or a lot. Whatever.
Still, this happened in the midst of all that:
ME: I got an email for career day in October. Would it be wrong to title my presentation: How to Stay Under Whitey's Radar and Live to See Your Grandbabies?
TIFFANY: O_O!!! Massa might have a problem with that.
ME: Don't he always? I'm gonna pee in his sweet tea. "I got sumin sweet for ya, alright!"
TIFFANY: Lmao! Disgusting.
ME: No lie, that's the kind of house negro I would have been, putting shit all in their food because FUCK MASSA, that's why! ...and then I'd giggle my yellow ass all the way home at the end of the day.
TIFFANY: Lmao! Your ass woulda been in the hot box.
ME: How would they know? "What's in this?" "Adobo."
TIFFANY: ROTFLMAO!!!
::opens door::
Good day, ma'am.
ME: Awww, man...!
TIFFANY: Nah, you woulda been a comfort girl 'cause you're tall. They woulda bred you with a buck to create big ol' SUPER slaves.
ME: Wait- where can I get my hands on one of those bucks though? What his mowf do?
TIFFANY: I said GOOD DAY!
*smooches...wondering what to do with this new rebellious soul*
-----------
I just want to break every rule and put my middle finger in everyone's face. but you know, I like having a job so I won't. I'll just find someplace to volunteer instead.
Let's just say I've since been taught to find a happy medium. Whitey doesn't necessarily HAVE TO die, he just needs to be reined in a bit. Or a lot. Whatever.
Still, this happened in the midst of all that:
ME: I got an email for career day in October. Would it be wrong to title my presentation: How to Stay Under Whitey's Radar and Live to See Your Grandbabies?
TIFFANY: O_O!!! Massa might have a problem with that.
ME: Don't he always? I'm gonna pee in his sweet tea. "I got sumin sweet for ya, alright!"
TIFFANY: Lmao! Disgusting.
ME: No lie, that's the kind of house negro I would have been, putting shit all in their food because FUCK MASSA, that's why! ...and then I'd giggle my yellow ass all the way home at the end of the day.
TIFFANY: Lmao! Your ass woulda been in the hot box.
ME: How would they know? "What's in this?" "Adobo."
TIFFANY: ROTFLMAO!!!
::opens door::
Good day, ma'am.
ME: Awww, man...!
TIFFANY: Nah, you woulda been a comfort girl 'cause you're tall. They woulda bred you with a buck to create big ol' SUPER slaves.
ME: Wait- where can I get my hands on one of those bucks though? What his mowf do?
TIFFANY: I said GOOD DAY!
*smooches...wondering what to do with this new rebellious soul*
-----------
I just want to break every rule and put my middle finger in everyone's face. but you know, I like having a job so I won't. I'll just find someplace to volunteer instead.
Tuesday, May 07, 2013
Still The Same Ol Jadeds
K: Why isn't anybody listening to me?
ME: Because you're insane.
K: I'm insane?! You're not wearing any pants!
N: Who wears pants?!
*smooches...from my computer desk, pant-less*
---------
we've always been clothing-optional; I don't know why K is acting brand new!
ME: Because you're insane.
K: I'm insane?! You're not wearing any pants!
N: Who wears pants?!
*smooches...from my computer desk, pant-less*
---------
we've always been clothing-optional; I don't know why K is acting brand new!
Monday, March 18, 2013
Wedding Weekend Shenanigans
You all know I went to Cathi & Mike's wedding in Massachusetts over the St. Patrick's Day weekend, so here's how that went down...
>Thursday night I was forced to sleep with two ACTUAL dogs. Yes, me, the woman who despises house pets more than anything. I'm telling you, people and their pets will forever confuse the hell out of me. How do you just let some filthy animal in the bed... *remembers some bad decisions made after many drinks in the club* Oh. Never mind.
>Friday we got all prettied up and got Cathi to the "church" on time. And by church I mean butterfly conservatory in Deerfield. We took pics, danced, ate and drank only a little (but of course I OD'd on champagne because I don't understand what "drink in moderation" means, so I had a bit of a headache). Nina was there looking FAB as always, and we helped make the wedding rather colorful (see what I did there? LOL!) Afterward Cathi strolled from dive bar to dive bar in her wedding dress (and me in MY bridesmaid dress) dancing and basking in all the attention. It was pretty great!
>One of Mike's friends is desperately in love with me, after only seeing and speaking with me for what--ten minutes? Yeah, he's sprung. Can you blame him? Massachusetts' white boys really have a thing for ol' Jaded, let me tell you! (I may or may not be exaggerating, but go with it. Ego and such...)
>Saturday, Cathi and Mike, still wearing their wedding garbs, took to the streets to cheer on folks running in some 10K road race that happens every year. And they made the local news! I stayed behind because listen--I have Caribbean blood in me. We don't do outdoor events in winter weather. Besides, there was a DR vs. PR World Baseball Classic game on (we won, of course!). I love Mike and Cathi but...baseball, son. Baseball.
>Later that evening, an Irish car bomb set the tone for the night. This little white boy came over to ogle at Cathi's pigtails (and breasts) and it turns out he was the very same white boy I made out with back in 2009. To hear him tell it, I "mouth-raped" him and then tossed him aside, leaving him wondering if he should call 911. Then he tried to give me bedroom eyes and said, "You're a good kisser, yo." Clearly, since he still remembered me. Meanwhile, I would not be able to describe him to a sketch artist at all. And then he went in for the grope.
I don't remember passing out on Cathi's futon at the end of the night (fully clothed), but I do remember feeding the jukebox ($5 got us 12 songs!), losing horribly at pool (I'm so rusty!) and apparently, I tweeted this literary gem:
Oh, Massachusetts. Just memories upon memories of foolishness.
*smooches...anticipating my next travel adventure*
----------
it will be soon and it will be FABULOUS!
>Thursday night I was forced to sleep with two ACTUAL dogs. Yes, me, the woman who despises house pets more than anything. I'm telling you, people and their pets will forever confuse the hell out of me. How do you just let some filthy animal in the bed... *remembers some bad decisions made after many drinks in the club* Oh. Never mind.
>Friday we got all prettied up and got Cathi to the "church" on time. And by church I mean butterfly conservatory in Deerfield. We took pics, danced, ate and drank only a little (but of course I OD'd on champagne because I don't understand what "drink in moderation" means, so I had a bit of a headache). Nina was there looking FAB as always, and we helped make the wedding rather colorful (see what I did there? LOL!) Afterward Cathi strolled from dive bar to dive bar in her wedding dress (and me in MY bridesmaid dress) dancing and basking in all the attention. It was pretty great!
 |
| The Rowdy Girls! |
 |
| Bridal Party |
 |
| Babies! |
 |
| Primitas! |
>One of Mike's friends is desperately in love with me, after only seeing and speaking with me for what--ten minutes? Yeah, he's sprung. Can you blame him? Massachusetts' white boys really have a thing for ol' Jaded, let me tell you! (I may or may not be exaggerating, but go with it. Ego and such...)
>Saturday, Cathi and Mike, still wearing their wedding garbs, took to the streets to cheer on folks running in some 10K road race that happens every year. And they made the local news! I stayed behind because listen--I have Caribbean blood in me. We don't do outdoor events in winter weather. Besides, there was a DR vs. PR World Baseball Classic game on (we won, of course!). I love Mike and Cathi but...baseball, son. Baseball.
>Later that evening, an Irish car bomb set the tone for the night. This little white boy came over to ogle at Cathi's pigtails (and breasts) and it turns out he was the very same white boy I made out with back in 2009. To hear him tell it, I "mouth-raped" him and then tossed him aside, leaving him wondering if he should call 911. Then he tried to give me bedroom eyes and said, "You're a good kisser, yo." Clearly, since he still remembered me. Meanwhile, I would not be able to describe him to a sketch artist at all. And then he went in for the grope.
I don't remember passing out on Cathi's futon at the end of the night (fully clothed), but I do remember feeding the jukebox ($5 got us 12 songs!), losing horribly at pool (I'm so rusty!) and apparently, I tweeted this literary gem:
 |
| I think I wrote this in Gaelic. |
Oh, Massachusetts. Just memories upon memories of foolishness.
*smooches...anticipating my next travel adventure*
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it will be soon and it will be FABULOUS!
Monday, March 04, 2013
"Several Herniated Discs": A Healthy Jaded Post
So the mystery behind all the ouchies in my back have been solved: all of my thoracic vertebrae have herniated discs. FUN, RIGHT? Right. So now I get to visit a physical therapist wherein I'll be told that I'm doing everything in my life incorrectly and that's why my back is fucked up. Or I'll get some exercises that will help alleviate the pain. Whatever. All I hear is CO-PAYS OUT THE YING-YANG UP IN THIS BITCH!!! Again, whatever. I have to see the PT, right?
Anyfucks, we cannot pinpoint what caused this so there's no point on harping on that. It's time to fix it as best I can and move on with my life, especially because this quack said it's okay for me to continue working out. BOOOOOO! (I'm lying, she's not a quack. She's a pretty awesome doctor, and coming from me you know that means a lot.)
But what I really want to address is, umm, the films from my MRI. I have questions.
If anyone reading this is or knows a radiologist, please help a sistah out because I'm not trying to be a host to some sort of angry alien being who's trying to take over the world through me. OH MY GOD WHAT IF THIS ALIEN CONTROLS THE VOICES?!?!?
SEND. HELP.
*smooches...not blaming WebMD for once*
---------
those films are mad suspect...
Anyfucks, we cannot pinpoint what caused this so there's no point on harping on that. It's time to fix it as best I can and move on with my life, especially because this quack said it's okay for me to continue working out. BOOOOOO! (I'm lying, she's not a quack. She's a pretty awesome doctor, and coming from me you know that means a lot.)
But what I really want to address is, umm, the films from my MRI. I have questions.
 |
| It looks like the lizard baby from "V" right? |
 |
| And now it has fangs!!! |
If anyone reading this is or knows a radiologist, please help a sistah out because I'm not trying to be a host to some sort of angry alien being who's trying to take over the world through me. OH MY GOD WHAT IF THIS ALIEN CONTROLS THE VOICES?!?!?
SEND. HELP.
*smooches...not blaming WebMD for once*
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those films are mad suspect...
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Just Say No To Drugs, Kids!
Remember the good old days of preachy sitcoms? When your favorite heartthrob had serious First World Problems that could be solved in 30 minutes or less? I especially appreciated the shows that were popular during Nancy Reagan's JUST SAY NO era, and how they made it seem like such a walk in the park to stay away or recover from drugs and its perils.
Alex's freak out on "Family Ties"
And Jessie's freak out on "Saved By The Bell"
Clearly neither of these shows took place in Bed-Stuy during crack-cocaine's heyday. But whatever.
I'll tell you what, though- I never did speed because accelerated heart rates freak me the hell out. And because of Alex and Jessie making complete asses of themselves. Thanks to these shows, no amount of peer pressure could get me to change my mind!
Now, if they'd only made one to talk about the detriments of whiskey and acid and pot...
What were some of your anti-drug episodes from old (or new) sitcoms? (I don't new shows have these anymore, seeing as drug use is so acceptable these days!)
*smooches...drug free since, um, well never-you-mind*
---------
I love when shows are able to stand the test of time.
Alex's freak out on "Family Ties"
And Jessie's freak out on "Saved By The Bell"
Clearly neither of these shows took place in Bed-Stuy during crack-cocaine's heyday. But whatever.
I'll tell you what, though- I never did speed because accelerated heart rates freak me the hell out. And because of Alex and Jessie making complete asses of themselves. Thanks to these shows, no amount of peer pressure could get me to change my mind!
Now, if they'd only made one to talk about the detriments of whiskey and acid and pot...
What were some of your anti-drug episodes from old (or new) sitcoms? (I don't new shows have these anymore, seeing as drug use is so acceptable these days!)
*smooches...drug free since, um, well never-you-mind*
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I love when shows are able to stand the test of time.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
The Great Coquito Experiment
Sometimes I get an idea in my head to make something I've never made before, just because. Last week I decided I wanted to make a coquito (Puerto Rican eggnog) for a holiday party I was attending. ::sigh:: So here's what happened.
I don't know anyone who knows how to make this drink, and I've only ever had it once in my life at a Midtown-east restaurant. So of course I google-searched a recipe that I thought looked "right" and "authentic" and got to work.
First of all, there were too many liquid ingredients for the blender I was using, and I'm not very good at improvising things like that. Already I'm starting to panic. Then, I didn't have any cinnamon. WHAT IS EGGNOG WITHOUT CINNAMON? I thought I could use ground cloves instead. ::double sigh:: While all this disaster is happening in the kitchen, I'm starting to get the shakes because STUPID ME decided that a spoonful of condensed milk would be a yummy treat and would not affect me negatively at all. It was as if I were on a suicide mission...
Finally, the drink mix is "done" according to the recipe, but it's not thick like eggnog and the cloves were overpowering the life out of that drink. Also: RUM. The recipe called for only a cup of rum but honestly, it tasted like a gallon. Or maybe I'm just not used to drinking anymore. Whatever the case: RUM.
I waited for an independent taster (Irene) to give me her verdict and she didn't seem impressed, but it had RUM so she kept it. The portion I brought home I gave to my ex (who said it was good but maybe he was just being nice) when he dropped the girls off; I tried drinking it and my stomach yelled "RUM" and "CONDENSED MILK" and quickly asked the beverage to LEAVE the same way it came. Hot. Mess.
But you know what, I won't be defeated by this drink. I looked up a different recipe (this time I'm using one written by Daisy Martinez) and am going to try it again this weekend. It WILL be tasty. I will NOT eat a spoonful of condensed milk. I WILL make sure there is cinnamon in the house. People will come from miles around to have some of The Jaded NYer's FAMOUS COQUITO (with a little help from Daisy Martinez) and once againmy plan to take over the world will succeed I will be a master of the kitchen.
Now all you have to do is invite me to your holiday party.
*smooches...looking for moreguinea pigs tasters*
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just humor me; this too shall pass
I don't know anyone who knows how to make this drink, and I've only ever had it once in my life at a Midtown-east restaurant. So of course I google-searched a recipe that I thought looked "right" and "authentic" and got to work.
First of all, there were too many liquid ingredients for the blender I was using, and I'm not very good at improvising things like that. Already I'm starting to panic. Then, I didn't have any cinnamon. WHAT IS EGGNOG WITHOUT CINNAMON? I thought I could use ground cloves instead. ::double sigh:: While all this disaster is happening in the kitchen, I'm starting to get the shakes because STUPID ME decided that a spoonful of condensed milk would be a yummy treat and would not affect me negatively at all. It was as if I were on a suicide mission...
Finally, the drink mix is "done" according to the recipe, but it's not thick like eggnog and the cloves were overpowering the life out of that drink. Also: RUM. The recipe called for only a cup of rum but honestly, it tasted like a gallon. Or maybe I'm just not used to drinking anymore. Whatever the case: RUM.
I waited for an independent taster (Irene) to give me her verdict and she didn't seem impressed, but it had RUM so she kept it. The portion I brought home I gave to my ex (who said it was good but maybe he was just being nice) when he dropped the girls off; I tried drinking it and my stomach yelled "RUM" and "CONDENSED MILK" and quickly asked the beverage to LEAVE the same way it came. Hot. Mess.
But you know what, I won't be defeated by this drink. I looked up a different recipe (this time I'm using one written by Daisy Martinez) and am going to try it again this weekend. It WILL be tasty. I will NOT eat a spoonful of condensed milk. I WILL make sure there is cinnamon in the house. People will come from miles around to have some of The Jaded NYer's FAMOUS COQUITO (with a little help from Daisy Martinez) and once again
Now all you have to do is invite me to your holiday party.
*smooches...looking for more
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just humor me; this too shall pass
Thursday, November 08, 2012
"Nothing's Gonna Change My World"
I have a certain way that I like to live, certain things I like to do. And while I understand that change--good or bad--is inevitable, it doesn't mean I can't fight it in the face to the death.
*smooches...taking a break from growing and learning*
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this week I think I'll just be an obnoxious, stubborn brat.
*smooches...taking a break from growing and learning*
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this week I think I'll just be an obnoxious, stubborn brat.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
We're Thankful For Our Ratchet Blessings
ME: How is it not even noon and ALREADY you ain't shit?
SmartyPJones: Girl...I wake up ain't shit. It's a gift.
*smooches...with a dose of tomfoolery*
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this is how we pass the time in between deadlines, in case you were wondering what writers do all day.
SmartyPJones: Girl...I wake up ain't shit. It's a gift.
*smooches...with a dose of tomfoolery*
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this is how we pass the time in between deadlines, in case you were wondering what writers do all day.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Things That Are President Obama's Fault, Vol. 1
- My depression
- The car accident that killed Sen. Robert McCallister on "Brothers & Sisters"
- The U.S. men's gymnastics team losing the gold at the London Games
- "Call Me Maybe" being stuck in my head all the time
- iPods' short shelf-life
- Mr. Marcus knowingly spreading syphilis to other porn actors
- People who speak loudly into their cellphones on the bus
- Cloudy days
- The new Barclay's Center at Atlantic Terminal
- Snookie
*smooches...scapegoating like a mofo*
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when in doubt, blame the Black man; isn't that how it goes?
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