This is why I wish I weren't such a scrawny fucker or that I had someone on my payroll. I don't have time for drama but I seem to attract it worse than my girl B and those tacky tacky House of Dereon outfits. I'm sitting here thinking, 'FUCK! I'm a highly successful African American woman, what the hell am I doing letting my crazy mom still dress me?!? I bet Oprah picks out her own clothes. Shit.' And then I remember that I'm not actually my girl B and I die a little on the inside. (Beyoncé, call me! Girl, I'll flat out wear your mom just to meet you.) Anyway, I digress. I may or may not have allegedly gotten a certain piercing done twice over Winter Break. And since I got back to VC, people have been acting like straight-up fools. I mean, I know I know 3LW—them hata's gonna hate, but jeez Louise, I didn't realize that my nipples could be such a hot topic. I'm all about showing them off when I'm drunk! I'll even talk about the piercing process in general (see below). But I'm not about random people talking about it to people or being asked about my motives as though I just went O. J. on someone's ass. Essentially: CHILLAX. We've got to respect each other. Didn't Aretha tell us that decades ago? Whatever, Spring Break's in four days, and I'm not getting expelled for rippin' out weaves any time soon. Not like I actually know anyone with a weave right now, but that's a minor detail.
Furthermore, my mom tells me today that there's apparently a snow storm coming. FUCK THAT SHIT. And not in some 2-Girls-1-Cup-NASTY way, but in a I-Just-Fashioned-This-Shank-From-My-Toothbrush-While-I'm-Waiting-To-Be-Paroled-For-These-Lame-Drug-Charges-But-I-Could-Still-Stab-You way. Like my title says, I've got plans. Renee and I have a threesome planned with that ugly bastard Will Ferrell Friday. I'm bouncing outta here Thursday at 11 AM Hell or high water.
Last but not least, I need my beauty sleep. I can get cute on a good day, but without quality sleep, I'm damn close to looking like a case for True Life: I'm a Crackwhore. You know who you are, stop having Feng Shui crises at 1 AM and learn to dance. Girl, why you stompin' so much? Is there some new dance move that I've missed out on recently by neglecting my life partner, Vodka? I sincerely doubt it. B would've texted me. She's a great friend like that. Like if you were about to jump some bitch, B would definitely hold your earrings.
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