Mari Speaks On...

...her decision to no longer follow a vegetarian diet:

"I give not a sliver of an eff about a cow's feelings or a pig's emotions, and frankly I need their protein. So BOOM."

*smooches...shocked at her confession*
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I never thought I'd see the day when Mari joined us carnivores again, but here it is!

Le Sex Talk

As raunchy and outspoken as I am, there are topics I won't address in an open forum and sex is one of them. I may joke about it, make sarcastic or crazy comments for shock value, but when it comes down to it I don't really talk about sex and pretty much cringe whenever one of my friends decides to over-share.

(People need to understand that I have a VERY VIVID IMAGINATION so when they pelt me with stories of large penises inserted into their areas I CAN SEE IT. And I love you and am very much a voyeur but I DON'T WANT TO SEE PEOPLE I KNOW HAVING SEX IN MY HEAD.)

I don't really care if this makes me repressed or prudish (I prefer to say I am discreet or modest), but I don't need to see a Venn diagram about exactly HOW your guy or gal rocked your world. A simple "Oh my god it was awesome" will suffice. I will believe you. I mean, I've done my fair share (and probably YOUR fair share) of ratchetness, but I don't feel the need to advertise it. That shit is private. If I wanted everyone to know the ins and outs of my cervical cavity, I'd be Kat Stacks.

Last night I was asked to be a panelist for a roundtable discussion where we'd be answering questions by men as they attempt to better understand the female brain. (FELLAS- I can tell you right now: you will NEVER understand us and we will NEVER understand you. The sooner we accept this the sooner we can live together in harmony and have amazing sex.)

These questions ranged from the benign "What do women want?" (EVERYTHING!) to the crazy "What if your guy asked to sleep with your friend?" (Ummm, put up the PEACE sign, of course!) There were also some questions about the importance of penis size and our willingness to participate in threesomes and whether we'd help our partners out if they were getting their ass beat in a street fight (HEEELLLLLLLLL, NO! But I'd call 911 for you, boo!).

While I enjoyed myself there was a level of raunch I wasn't really prepared for and for a spilt second thought to myself "what the hell did I sign up for?" The hosts were great, though, and I never felt pressured to answer anything, and as the questions came up I began to feel a bit more comfortable answering some here or there, may have even done a bit of over-sharing my damn self. But seriously, I'm not cut out for the sex talk.

I've helped out a male friend decipher the crazy bullshit their girlfriends do in the past and this roundtable was akin to that, except these were strangers broadcasting to lord knows how many folks. I had a good time and I think the show went very well, but SHEESH if I never again have to talk about sex in a public place it will be too soon!

It's just not me.

*smooches...still living under the Catholic veil*
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I swear...quitting the church is soooooo much harder than kicking heroin...not that I've ever tried heroin- that shit scares me MORE than Catholicism- but I've watched Intervention and it seems to be a pretty hard habit to break. Like Catholicism.

Joshua I – Beloved Friend And Confidant

Not much good came out of my stint at the Waco School for Girls, but there were some highlights. Like the friendship I cultivated that is still going strong even though there are 3,000 miles between us, and the realization that I was in a shit marriage with a shit man. And, of course, Joshua I, the Dell Dimension 4700 desktop computer I invested in with my fabulous new private school salary.

Prior to Joshua we had the crappiest computer Rent-a-Center had to offer (UGH!) and when this sleek Dell came into my life a choir of angels sang Prince songs to me. Shit like ADORE and DIAMONDS AND PEARLS and fucking LET’S GO CRAZY. Angels, dawg, ANGELS!!

Basically I was really excited to get this computer. Even though the school supplied everyone with Macbooks, I was in love with this computer. I even had it custom built; told the Dell customer service dude everything I needed it to have and had it made just for me. I was ready to take over the world with Joshua as my sidekick!

The name was a no-brainer: it was to be N's moniker had she been a boy (taken from the computer's name in War Games...yes, I'm that much of a geek. Shut up.), but she was born with a vagina and was to be our last child, so the computer became the son I never had. It was cherished beyond belief. I put so many restrictions on others using it that sometimes, no one else would WANT to use it at all. And often, whether people were around or not, I'd talk to it and say things like, "Come ON, Joshua, please just work for mommy! I'm trying to find a job!" or "OK, Joshua, clearly you're tired and want to go to sleep. We can watch ER tomorrow." It was a tumultuous but loving relationship.

There was that one time in 2007 when it wouldn't power on and swallowed my thesis whole. BOY WAS THAT A FUN WEEK! And then there was the time in 2009 when the DVD player started opening and closing on its own for no apparent reason. THAT WASN'T CREEPY AT ALL. Joshua has been around since Day 1 of this blog and seen so much fuckery that well, if he could talk I'd be in jail. We survived chatrooms, illegal downloads, porn marathons and stank emails back and forth between me and my ex during the first few months of our divorce. I honed my Photoshop and Quark Xpress skills on Joshua; discovered YouTube and Twitter with Joshua and finally, created much literary magic with Joshua.

Unfortunately, he's just a computer. One born in 2004 and used to death everyday of his life, not unlike The Giving Tree. And now, he's a tired stump that just wants some peace.

I write all this so that you truly understand the heaviness in my heart right now as I inform you that Joshua I is no longer with us. Whatever virus has taken over the motherboard is stronger than we can battle with our limited resources, and I wanted to keep fighting for him because I'm not the type to just replace shit on a whim, but after more than a year with severe computer problems in this very computer-dependent society, I had to finally throw in the towel.

I'm actually sad about it. I understand it's a machine and it's just a material possession, but it was one of the first things I'd ever bought with my own money that was just mine, and it played a huge part in my becoming more and more independent.

Joshua, my good (and sometimes annoyingly infuriating) friend, you will be missed.

*smooches...getting kinda weepy over a machine*
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I never thought my analog self would see the day that I shed a tear over a fucking machine...SkyNet has won. Abandon all hope. The end is near.

Classic Fridays, 2011: Bruce Lee

Every once in a while, I like to do something a little different, like choose themes for random months and challenge myself to stick with the theme throughout. For this month, I'm taking y'all back. WAY back. To when Jaded was a little girl, stuck indoors while other kids played outside, attempting to stay sane by drowning in music, television and books.

I have a vague memory of Papi taking me to a small dingy movie theater near our house to see king fu movies. Whether or not this is a real memory, I don't know (maybe I'll ask him this weekend) but I recall sitting in a theater and being introduced the amazingness that is/was Lee Jun-fan AKA Bruce Lee.

(I should also note that back in those days there was something called DOUBLE FEATURES, where you saw two films for the price of one. While at the movies with Papi to see Bruce Lee beat someone to a bloody pulp, I also had to sit through a horrible, nightmare-inducing film called "Motel Hell" that put me off jerky for the rest of my life. Rent it and you'll see why. Oh jesus I get the creeps just thinking about it!)

This little powerhouse of a man came on screen, kicked some ass and stole my little Dominican heart. Even now, as I try to write this post about someone with whom I totally fell in love, only to find that he had died before I was even born, I get a little misty-eyed.

The way he moved across the screen was not unlike a dance. Everything was choreographed to the tiniest detail and when put together it was all such a treat for my brain. I wanted to be that effortless in my movement. I wanted that power behind my fist.

I thank WPIX-11 and WWOR-9 for all the kung fu films they showed on the weekends (you know, while you all played tag in the park and I wasn't allowed outside?) and a special shout out to Papi who, unknowingly, introduced me to my first crush & a secret desire to be a fierce warrior, dancer and philosopher. Even in my most stressful moments, I try to remember Bruce's advice, and I promise I only exact the proper revenge when someone causes me to bleed my own blood!




Isn't/wasn't he just the dreamiest? His wife was so lucky...

*smooches...reminding myself to purchase Bruce's filmography*
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I used to have it on VHS, but YOU-KNOW-WHO got it in the divorce *side eye*

New Age Bitches.

In this age of Twitter and Facebook, a new phenomenon has emerged among the penised species, which one eFriend promptly labeled "New Age Bitches."

Here's the thing: I reveal a decent portion of myself on this blog and on twitter, so I suppose those on the receiving end of my tomfoolery might get the impression that we're homies. Sir... listen here and listen good- just because we exchange some jabs or harmless flirty comments here or there does not mean A) you will ever see me naked or B) you can talk to me any old way. Shit like that will get you eStabbed in these eStreets.

And frankly, unless we've met in person or someone I know can vouch for your character, you're no friend of mine and therefore not to be trusted. Point. Blank. Period. (c) Tamar Braxton

Where the BITCH part comes in is the behavior exhibited by these "men" when they are called on their BS. Straight up tantrums & pouty-like nonesense that I barely even tolerate from my 11-year-old daughter. SIR... please go THATAWAY ------> with all that, because no one here at the Jaded Empire has any fucks to give.

I bring this up because recently one twitter follower "took all his toys and went home" after I called him out for being inappropriate in my DMs (direct messages, for you Twitter virgins... it's like a private chatroom/message space). Listen, I know I'm inappropriate, too, but there are limits. There are lines that shouldn't be crossed. And in my opinion, he crossed it. Fuck his couch!

There are no regrets on my part; he's just one less fool to distract me during the day. But I write this to warn all of you about New Age Bitches. They're out there. They look & sound just like everyone else. They're funny and knowledgeable about some obscure stuff that you thought no one knew but you. You almost feel like, "Hey, if you lived here we could grab a beer and make fun of hipsters on the block."

But as soon as you lightly graze their ego their true nature rises to the surface and you realize: THAT'S WHY they're single and use social networking media...they're one of THOSE...

*smooches...hoping this isn't a pot-kettle situation*
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I don't throw eTantrums over trivial stuff- do I? at least not real ones, right? RIGHT?