Bleezle deezle and the pudding pops and the pills and ca-MIILLEE

I muted out the nice senior
citizen who was on my right.

At the best Coney Island with the best coney dogs, which happens to be deep DEEP in the hood.

So I'm checking my texts and smashing the best coney dog ever created and doing my Bill Cosby impression all at the same time, and Phoebe decides it would be funny to secretly record me, and then go from booth to booth to show everyone.

This chick's going to get us murderized. Smdh.

Therefore, I've added a new definition to coneycap....

- - - - - - - -

Coneycap [KOH-nee cap] - noun:

1. A coney dog enjoyed at the end of an evening instead of an alcoholic beverage.

2. To be struck by a bullet while eating a coney dog.

#dead

I ... I just can't.



Best part @ 2:54... "sigh...I'll be dead...."

On Respectin my Gangsta Cred

Getting my bent tire frame repaired at my dealership. The service tech guy is so mean. 

He needs to recognize that my drivers license may say "Grosse Pointe", but my street cred says "Detroit, bitch". 

Imma roll my window down and throw up a gang sign on the way out. Which may be more knee-slapping hilarious than hide-behind-the-counter intimidating, considering I'll be doing it from an HHR. 

50 Shades of Ow

Had a dream last night that I was staying in a hotel room with a little yellow tabby cat. And I couldn't find anything to feed him, or a plate for water. Then I dug a chunk of salmon out of the garbage for him.  That was all. Just random.

Phoebs swore a 3rd trip would relax me.
Remind me to punch her in the ovaries.

Too Tired for a Title

Inspiration

So I planned/executed an employee family movie event for work. Purchased the movie, booked the venue, arranged the food & beverage & floor plan, created/posted collateral, managed electronic RSVPs, managed the staff, and tried to run from some of the most demonic, stinky, loud little demon spawn I've ever met.

I'm too tired to bullet point all those out.

At one point, I hid in the bathroom stall.  No, really. Even though I didn't have any pee left. 

Tomorrow I need to put finishing touches on the employee recognition awards happening next week.

I decided to do an "old Hollywood" theme, so everything will be feathers, pearls, reds, whites and blacks. I also created these cool 24x24 "walk of fame" floor clings for each award winner. Still under the $15k budget.

I'm going to damn bed.

Witness the tsunami-like destruction left 

in aforementioned demon spawns' wake.

Oil of Hades

Ladies - do not under any circumstances use Oil of Olay's Beauty Bar. 

It breaks your face out within the first two days' use. And it leaves a weird film on your face. 

My spleen. It haz dropped out.

My jelly donut is all pushed up into my twinkie.

Pixl filter for iPhone.
www.detroityoga.com

I'm getting mad heat for the Iggy Azalea post. Like I told an untruth.  I'm sorry, but...she is white, yes? And she is from Australia, right? And she's pretending to be Da Brat, right?

Yeah. I was all wrong.  Look. Don't go all "stage mom" on me because I prefer the real thing. If you think Figgy is a real rapper, then you've probably never received a rude glance when you walked into a room full of people, or had to fight harder than someone of another race for a job, or had to drop to the floor to hide from gunshots every night.

Lucky. Must be nice to be you.

Want more? Bring it, bitches. I'll win every time.