Friday, November 14, 2008

Anything for Obama!

YES WE DID! and...... NO YOU DID'NT!

"I'm not happy Raheem"


Finding an apartment in NY was one of the most frustrating experiences of my life. All these people… no space. After many failed attempts at trying to find a place through craigslist and various other sites I decided I would hire a broker to do my search for me.

What is a broker? A broker is like a realtor. Their fee is usually 15-20 percent total of your security, first, and last months rent. In other words… brokers are expensive and I was trying to avoid going that route. But after walking into many rat infested slumlord apartments I was tired and was willing to pay the money for someone to speed up this process and find me suitable accommodations. I submitted a request for a broker… and in Raheem walked into my life.

Raheem was one of those brothas who faked being a professional. He was all talk and never delivered. I set up an appointment with Raheem and we went over what I was searching for in an apartment.

Me: “ I would like not to be on the first floor… safety is first… but no higher than the 4th floor. A one bedroom or studio is fine. I have a lot of clothes…so closet space is a must. I really like Brooklyn… over there by Target and Night of the Cookers... where you get off on the C train. Certain parts of Harlem are okay, but no other burrows. I don’t want to commute from the Bronx or Queens. Oh, and close to a train station is a must because I work really late hours and don’t want to walk far in the dark by myself.” (I thought my requests were pretty reasonable).

Raheem: “We can do that. You seem like the type that would like birds… so I will take you to Brooklyn. Pigeons are in Harlem. How much are you willing to pay?”

Me: “ No more that 1050 a month.” (I ignored that lame metaphor attempt).

Raheem: “1050! This is NY! No one lives in those areas for less than 1050!”

Me: “What are you talking about? I have friends in those places and none of them pay more than 1050…”

Raheem: “Let me see what I can do. Can I show you some other areas?”

Me: “Just as long as those areas are not mentioned in anyone’s rap song. I work in Rockefeller Center… I don’t want more than a 40 minute commute to work. So if you can promise me those two things… then okay!”

I thought Raheem and I had an understanding… boy was I wrong!

The next day while at work Raheem called excited to show me some places. Great! I was excited to see them! He told me that I had to meet him ASAP because some other people were interested so talked my boss into letting me leave early.

I was new to NY and had no clue where I was going. Raheem told me I would love these places in Brooklyn and they were only a 30 min. train ride away.

After being on the train for 1hr and 45 minutes I was pissed. Not only that, but I was in some deep area of Bed-Stuy (umm hello how many times does Jay-Z shout that out). Not only that, but I had a 10 block walk to the address Raheem gave me.

When I saw Raheem… I was not happy.

Me: “This better be good Raheem. I don’t appreciate you lying about the train ride.”

Raheem: “I didn’t lie about the train ride! It only takes 30 min from Rockefeller to get here.”

Me: “You must operate off some new watch that is not out yet.”

Raheem takes me inside. And shows me a FIRST FLOOR apartment.

Me: “This is nice… the area is a bit suspect… but the apartment is beautiful. I’m assuming this is a model and there is one available on a higher floor?”

Raheem: “No this is it! My girlfriend lives in this building. She loves it!”

Me: “Are you serious? You paid NO attention to any of my requests. You did not even try to find me an apartment! You took the easy way out by seeing if there were any vacant apartments in your girlfriends building! YOUR JOB IS TO FIND PEOPLE APARTMENTS!” I took a deep breath. “How much is it Raheem?”

Raheem: “2000”

Me: “A month?.. oh FALSE! I left work early for this! Are you really a broker?”

I put on my uppity black girl “this is unacceptable routine” and stormed out of the apartment.

Later that night Raheem called to apologize and said there is a place in Harlem he would like to show me the next day. I said okay (like a dummy) and agreed to meet him. This time I brought backup… one of my male friends. I figured Raheem might not be on that BS if he thought I had a guy looking out for my best interest.

The next day my boy D and I beat Raheem to the spot. 30 min later a sweaty Raheem comes to meet us. I said nothing. D and I followed him up to apartment number “35”… and I noticed something very strange about it. “35” was written on the door in black sharpee. How ghetto is that? I look over at D who is trying not to laugh. Raheem messed around with the lock for a while and then turned back to me with a horrified look on his face.

Raheem: “These are the wrong keys… let me trying another door.”

Me: “I’m not happy Raheem.”

Raheem then begins to stick keys in every door on the 3rd… 4th…5th… and 6th floors.

Me: “So…… I’m not even going to see an apartment today. I guess that’s how this is going to go.”

I turn to D who is giving me the “if you become the angry black woman I have no money to bail you out” look.

As I fought to hold back my temper I started to walk out the building when we passed an apartment door that was wide open. Raheem steps inside and waves us in.

This apartment was in the process of being renovated. Completely gutted. No walls, no floors… and the tub and oven were sitting in the middle of the imaginary living room.

With a big smile Raheem says the worst thing he could possibly say to me.

Raheem: “So what do you think?!?!”

Me: “I think there…. aint SHIT IN HERE TO LOOK AT RAHEEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THERE IS NO APARTMENT HERE… IT DOES NOT EVEN HAVE WALLS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Raheem: “I know, I know… but what do you think about the floor plan?”

At this point D steps in.

D: “Look man, this is enough. She is trying to move in the next two weeks and you have her running around looking at gutted apartments. There is no way this is going to be completed in two weeks. What about the floor plan? Come on man… girls don’t even care about that stuff. Are you really a broker?”

D then grabbed my hand and dragged me out of there. Raheem comes running out after us.

Raheem: “Wait, Wait! I have an idea!”

D stops us from walking to hear what this fool has to say.

Raheem: “How about you move into your boyfriends building!” (as he points at D).

Before I could get out my words D quickly covers my mouth with his hands as he pulled me down 144th street.

The next day after I calmed down… a complaint was filed to Raheem’s boss… who informed me that he was one of their best brokers. Back to craigslist I went.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Another foolish Album cover ...

I'm not going to go in on the 1999 FUBU Jersey... But look at the title of this album and then look at his legs. LOL! I got this vision of him at home thinking this was the hottest idea ever.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

A sure fire plan to get people not to sit by you...

I have an obsession with white people with locks. Just like most white people want to be all up in my hair business... it's mind blowing to me how they get their hair to look like this. The 3 train was packed this afternoon... and the only seats left open were by this guy. Go figure. It cracks me up how New Yorkers will fight for a seat on the train...but will stand the whole ride to avoid sitting next to a person with unruly locks. Hmmmm. I'm getting an idea....

Monday, November 10, 2008

The result of having too many yes men.... you look crazy

What in the “all single ladies back up dancer” heck is this? Whitney, are you serious? Please don’t let us find out this is really your album cover. Fire the publicity team ASAP! I blame Beyonce for having you out here looking like a 60 year old Wonder Woman. This trend must be destroyed! muaaahhhahahahahaha. But the photo shop work is excellent!

I am not a HOE


Yes, my dating life deserves a big ol'e WHAT IS THIS! A few months back a FINE (I know its immature to put things in all caps... but he was FINE) West African guy that I met at a roof top party asked me out. Ladies... he looked like Omar Epps! (moment of silence as a regain focus). How did the date go? Eh. He kept asking me questions like: Can you cook? How are you with kids?... Would you ever live in Africa? You know... the typical questions. Frankly, this was a little too much for me for a first date. But let me find out he is the Prince of Zimunda and I will be on the first thing smoking to Africa pregnant with twins with a frying pan in tow. To be honest, his restaurant selection was weak (I think he just picked it for the free wine), but it was an act of chivalry he did that I just was not accustomed to that threw me off.

After dinner, we went for a walk and he insisted on walking on the outside of me. Okay, fine. But, every time we turned a corner he was no longer on the outside and he would cut me off to get back over. I grew irritated with this dance and he could sense it.

date "Have you never had a man walk on the outside of you before"

me "is that what you are trying to do?"

date "yes, it is the mans duty to protect the woman"

me "yea...because cars hop curbs all the time." I was really sarcastic when I said this but.. oh well.

Truth is, Im not used to guys being chivalrous with me and when I'm presented with one who is... I don't know how to act.

When arriving at work the following Monday all the women in the office wanted to know about my date with Mr. FINE. After telling them about how he annoyed me everyone just looked at me like I had a third nipple.

Co-worker "so you didn't like him because he was chivalrous... makes alot of sense girly" (pats me on the back) "you are destined to be alone."

I didn't like the sound of that. Nor did I like how every woman proceeded to tell me that I need to stop being so "rough."

My girl Jam sat beside me and put her hand on my shoulder. She could tell I did not like being beat up about this. "You're young... and I'm going to tell you what my mamma told me about walking on the outside. Mom says back in the 60's and 70's pimps would walk with their hoe on the outside to show her off."

If I wasn't uncomfortable before... I sure was now.

Jam "It was their way of showing the hoes off to the streets and letting everyone look at her."

This comment was followed by everyone yelling "PREACH" along with some smacking of the lips and sucking of the teeth.

I just sat there looking stupid.

Co-worker 2 "Bet you won't want to walk on the outside anymore huh Ms. Big and Bad."

My boss comes in at this time. She is from Iowa... most of the woman in the office are from down south and out east... perhaps this was a regional thing.

Me "So boss lady... what do you think about men walking on the outside? That's just something southern belles do... right?"

boss "If I'm walking with a man... no matter who he is... he betta get his ass to the outside! I deserve that respect!"

I could see the "rep yo state" card in this situation was not going to work.

boss "remember JP... you teach a man how to street you. If you present yourself as one of those woman who can do everything for herself... you are sending the message that you can.. and that is what you WANT."


Now I feel sorry for my guy friends when they walk with me. If they are not on the outside I scream "GET TO THE OUTSIDE I'M NOT YOUR HOE." They just look at me like I'm crazy, but they quickly get to the outside.

This experience was a huge wake up call to me. I learned the difference between "self sufficient" women and "independent" women. Self sufficient women can do for their selves, but don't deny they need a man in their life. "Independent" is just an over used term some bitter hood rats made up to justify why they are ballin and lonely. I'll take self sufficient any day!

This pic is forever funny!

I can't wait for this movie to come out! I am planning on seeing it by myself so I will not disturb my friends as I laugh the entire movie at this hair. Here is Oscar Winner Jamie Foxx on the set of his up and coming film "The Soloist".

Friday, August 1, 2008

AHEM... What are you the princess of?




9am on a Friday morning... I walked out my door to this foolishness right here. Praise him for the camera phone! I'm not even going to state the obvious about that "dress" being way too small or even mention that every 2 seconds she was pulling that latex out of her booty... oh no... I won't go there. But honey child... why the tiera? Where were you going? Do I even want to know? Is the girl walking next to you really your friend? This is not the worse part.... she was carrying her bra in her right hand... did I catch someone in the midst of "the walk of shame"? WHAT IS THIS?!?!