Yesterday, there was definitely something in the air or everybody and they mama was smoking crack over the Memorial Day weekend. I swear people were acting

quite looney yesterday. At work we had over 200 calls in queue for most of the day and at one point, over 300. Downtown, people were driving crazier than

normal. So what in the hell happened over the weekend? You ate too much barbeque and now you got the worst case of indigestion ever? Got gas from all that

potato salad you ate? Uncle Willie drank to much at the family gathering? Wha what tell me what happened, so I can understand why y’all were acting like a

damn fool yesterday.

The next couple of months will be crucial at the work place. I need to get motivated and apply to some more jobs. My networking has slowed down a bit, so

I’ll have to look to other alternatives. Sometimes I’m not really feeling Monster.com. They often give me

listings of the same job three times in one day. I can’t seem to get my profile the way I want it either. Anyone know of better places than

href="http://www.monster.com" target="new">Monster? Please share the wealth.

For all of you doubters, rebates really do work (well most of the time). I would say in the last few months out of all the rebates I have mailed off for

from Best Buy, I have received 80% of them back. Ten dollars here and twenty dollars there arriving in the

mail is always nice to see The only time I don’t buy something for a rebate is when the deal of the purchase depends too much on the rebate; i.e. a

href="http://www.sprintpcs.com" target="new">Sprint PCS phone sells for $299.99 with a $150.00 MIR (mail in rebate). Firstly, the cell phone rebates

Read the rest of All a Little Looney

A Brotha Meets Jesus

An Irishman in a wheel chair entered a restaurant one afternoon and asked the waitress for a cup of coffee. The Irishman looked across the restaurant and asked, “Is that Jesus sitting over there?” The waitress nodded “yes,” so the Irishman told her to give Jesus a cup of coffee on him.

The next patron to come in was an Englishman with a hunched back. He shuffled over to a booth, painfully sat down, and asked the waitress for a cup of hot tea. He also glanced across the restaurant and asked, “Is that Jesus over there?” The waitress nodded again, so the Englishman said to give Jesus a cup of hot tea, too.

The third patron to come into the restaurant was a brotha from the hood on crutches. He hobbled over to a booth, sat down and hollered, “Hey there! sweet
thang, hook a brotha up with a cold glass of RC!” He, too, looked across the restaurant and asked, “Is that God’s boy over there?” ! The waitress nodded
again, so the brotha said to give Jesus a cold glass of RC, too.

As Jesus got up to leave, he passed by the Irishman, touched him and said, “For your kindness, you are healed.” The Irishman felt the strength come back into his legs, got up and danced a jig out the door.

Jesus also passed by the Englishman, touched him and said, “For your kindness, you are healed.” The Englishman felt his back straightening up, and he raised up his hands, praised the Lord and did a series of back flips out the door.

Then Jesus walked towards the Brotha from the hood. The brotha jumped up and yelled, “Slow ya role playa, don’t touch me dog, I’m drawin’ disability!”

Diagnostic Computer

One day, in line at the company cafeteria, Jack says to Mike behind him, “My elbow hurts like hell. I guess I better see a doctor.”

Read the rest of Got Jokes

Today is Memorial Day and it is also the birthday of the only dad that really raised me. Today would have been my grandfather’s birthday, my Papa. Papa was

born May 26, 1912 and he would have been 91 this year. Papa passed away twelve years ago this month.

When my birth father was or was not around, Papa was there for my family and I. He was the protector, the provider and the counselor all in one. As an

adult, I can imagine that Papa didn’t care much for my birth father, but he never let me know this. Papa’s world revolved around his Pooky, Buddy Boy and

his two daughters. A caring and considerate man, Papa did a great deal for his family, community and country.

During World War II, Papa provided honorable service to the United States Army. A very special person in my life recently presented my grandfather’s medals

to me. I cherish the medals dearly. In my family, I am the protector of the momentos, scrapbooks, photos, etc. It is a great honor to be able to look at

Papa’s medals whenever I want.

I get emotional when I think about Papa because I feel that he was snatched away from me. Papa lived a long full life but selfish thoughts run rampid

through my heart and mind. Papa knows that I love him; the thing is that I never had the opportunity to sit back and listen to his war stories or learn more

about his eight brothers and sisters and his parents. I wanted to know about the farm life and where his mother’s family came from. I wanted to know. I

still want to know.

Perhaps I can discover more on my own.

All I know is that if Papa was alive he would have led me the right way without hesistation.

Papa I owe a great deal to you for me being who I am today.

Papa I love you.

Happy Birthday Papa.

Happy Memorial Day to all of the veterans.

And also Happy Birthday to a wonderful person named Calvin.

Read the rest of Memorial Day 2003

What did I do today?

It feels like I didn’t do shit.

I need a lazy day every week now and then.

Yanno?

Time to sit back and relax, watch television, listen to music, chill at rokkstar,

href="http://www.rokkstar.com/xmb" target="new">chat with

target="new">some great people

href="http://www.girlwithglasses.net" target="new"><3, eat, talk on the phone and sleep. Did you know that I could do all of this at once? I got

skills dunny!

LOL Resha taught me the meaning of dunny today and I just had to throw that word in here somewhere. All of the different types of slang across the United

States has inspired me to come up with a potential project. We’ll see.

I’m wathching Real TV right now. Not the most entertaining television show, but it provides a few laughs and giggles. Tell me why this man held up a bank

with a knife and someone ended up dropkicking him in the arm which made him drop the weapon and his ass got caught. ROFL He belongs on America’s Dumbest

Criminals. Does that show still come on?

I can’t express how happy I am to have a three day weekend. I haven’t been this excited about a three day weekend since I was in middle school and we had

Teacher Work Days every quarter.

Read the rest of Laziness is Happiness

I posted this on rokkstar earlier today. The topic means so much to me that I’m going to post it here

as well:

I missed the heated discussion about this in another thread, so I want to bring this up now.

Maybe Vasillos [person from the forum] doesn’t refer himself as white, so it may not be fair for anyone to call him white. Firstly, he’s American with a

Greek and Italian background. Right?

I don’t like the labels: white, black, yellow, brown whatever.

Yeah [my forum title is] High Yella Heffa, but this is a mockery of people calling me this all my life.

I call myself black for the sake of society, but the older I become the more I don’t like being called it nor calling myself black.

What is black? What is white?

I’m a American with a light reddish-bronzey skin tone. I’m not from Africa and neither are my parents, so I’m not an African American. I’m not from Asia, so

I’m not an Asian American. I’m not from Italy so I’m not an Italian American.

I’m also not colored, negro or an Afro-American.

My father is caramel. My mother is lighter than me. My grandfather was lighter than her. On one side of my family the skin tone gets lighter and lighter on

the other side it gets darker, lighter, then darker, then lighter then dark again. My point is that when it comes down to it, none of us are/were black. We

are who we are. We are mutts if anything. European-African-Native American and some other stuff I’m sure I’m not aware of.

Now things would be different if my entire nuclear family was from Egypt or Mongolia. Then I’d be an Egyptian American or a Mongolian American (lol that

sounds funny). And things would be different if my mother’s nuclear family was from a certain country and my father’s nuclear family was from a certain

country.

I’m going to stick to checking ‘other’ if someone wants to know my race.

Read the rest of I am Not Black

I must be out of my high yella mind because I could have sworn I just heard someone outside yelling “Ruuuuuuubeeeeen.” Now don’t no damn Rubens live on my block. Granted I choose not to associate myself with my neighbors because more than half of them look like crackheads. Even if they aren’t on crack they sure do look the part. Too damn well if you ask me. Now that I think about it I’m sure she was yelling Ruben’s name all the way down the street like a strung out fiend. Maybe she’s celebrating and is as happy as Vina and I were the other night. But wait this lady is two days late on celebration so I know she gots to smokin some crack.

Speaking of crack, why did I learn the other day that crackheads be smoking that shit out of some antennaes? When I heard that, my jaw fell half way to the floor. My jaw didn’t completely drop because truthfully a crackhead will think up some crazy shit so when it comes down to it, I ain’t really that surprised. But an antennae? WTF I cracked up for a good five minutes trying to picture that sit. I repeated, “An antennae?” Dude was like, “Yeah, you know… like your radio antennae.” I laughed my ass off for another five minutes non-stop.

On to the Friday Five:

1. What brand of toothpaste do you use?

Colgate Baking Soda & Peroxide Whitening with Tarter Control.

2. What brand of toilet paper do you prefer?

Quilted Northern or Charmin.

3. What brand(s) of shoes do you wear?

Nike and Sketchers

4. What brand of soda do you drink?

Read the rest of Crack in the Friday Five

I’m searching for serenity, searching for peace in my life. Tonight is the first time in a long while that I feel that that is not so impossible after all. That state of mind feels within our reach. As long as we keep focus on the love it will continue to be.

The path to what we desire is long, but what is different now is that I can see the path. My eyes are focused and my mind is clear. We can do this. I know we can. Belief is no longer an option. Only knowing will suffice.

Read the rest of Within Our Reach

Yesterday, JT was checking my site out at work. Tell me why this ignorant heffa sitting behind him at work said, “Ewww she got a beard?!” while looking at my picture that I created on the right. You stupid BITCH that is called art. Psst.

I’m cool now.

Dear God, I love Ruben but if he sings ONE more ballad on American Idol I am going to die. Even Luther Vandross puts a few upbeat songs amongst the classic slow songs. That’s why I think Clay is going to win, but I may be wrong. We’ll see in about thirty five minutes. Really there was no reason to stretch this out over two hours. I don’t want to see the other LOSERS except for Kimberly. I really don’t want to see Justin. He gives me that nasty bubbling sensation in my stomach.

[edit] Well I was wrong, and I’m glad that I was wrong. Congratulations Ruben! I almost cried five times while watching the end of the show.[/edit]

Fox’s server must be overwhelmed because I can’t connect to the American Idol homepage.

And to the producers: I’m not feeling that Ruben has Florida and Clay has Ohio bullshit. They are not presidents mmkay?

I learning how to configure some more b2 stuff. I’m so excited lol I love learning new things, especially anything involving a gadget and particularly my computer *nods* Until yesterday I haven’t had many problems with b2 since disowning Greymatter *sigh* I noticed a couple of old Greymatter entries that I wanted to edit for layout purposes. Since I converted the Greymatter files to b2, I neither can edit the GM files through b2 nor edit and upload an edited .html file. Then I tried to redo the entire GM to b2 conversion, but that FAILED because my username for b2 and GM are the same. I’ll figure some way around it I suppose.

Work is still work and the other stuff is still… umm yeah.

Read the rest of Reconfiguring American Idol