Friday, May 31, 2013


Let me just tell cool, calm, and laid back as i am, I am 1000000000000000% anti-flatulence. There is not a single solitary human being walking this earth that has ever heard my pass gas (past the age of diapers and pull-ups training pants). It is so not cute. And i'm no fan of hearing (or smelling) any one else pass gas either (as you can imagine, i try to avoid public restrooms as often as humanly possible because some folks just don't give a damn and will unleash the beast for the whole world to hear, smell and experience). But i just saw this story on facebook and could barely make it past the 3rd paragraph from laughing so hard. Enjoy.

Like everything in life, farts have a time and place. However, I never realized that in the wrong time and place, flatulence had enough power to alter my course in history. Well, it can if it’s the third date with the man of your dreams. And, if it makes his eyes burn. If God destined us to be together, I was one SBD away from foiling His plans (that’s “Silent But Deadly” for you prudes).

It was about five years ago. I was trying to lose a few pounds so I was staying away from carbs. That’s when I met my husband, Rob. On our first date, he booked the next two. He liked me. I liked him. Things were looking real good.

He picked me up in a Cobra, Mustang and his pathetic attempt to win me over with a car totally worked. I’m not shallow, but since I spent most of my twenties picking men up because I didn’t want my hair to frizz in their non-air conditioned jalopies on 3 wheels and a 15 year old spare, I welcomed his fancy sports car with open arms.

We arrived at the restaurant and Rob was ordering food I hadn’t allowed myself to eat in years. I didn’t want to be “that girl” so I ate, drank, and oh, was I merry. Later we shopped a bit. Rob surprised me by buying an expensive pair of shoes that he caught me eyeing. Was this love?

That’s when it happened. Gas strikes in two different ways – uncontrollable toots or sharp, shooting pains that feel a lot like dying. I thought I was dying. Not to make a scene, I told Rob I suddenly wasn’t feeling well and probably needed to head home.

On the way home in his Cobra, he tried to hold my hand and ask me lots of questions, but I wasn’t having any of it. The pain was so bad it felt like I was being stabbed with a bunch of tiny forks. Then I realized …

My God, help me. I have a horrendous fart on deck. I’m in trouble. Big trouble.


The more I held it in, the more pain would shoot through my stomach and down my legs. I was even having to raise myself off the seat, gripping on to my door and the dashboard.

“Seriously, you need to hurry – I’m in a lot of pain.” I managed to say through gritted teeth.

“Wow, it’s that bad? What’s wrong? Do I need to take you to a hospital?”

How do you tell a man you just started dating that the reason you’re writhing in pain is because you have to fart?

Well, you can either tell him, or like me, let the fart speak for itself.

People, hear me. There was nothing I could do. As impressive as I am with sphincter control, this was out of my hands. Slowly, it eeked out. The more I tried to stop it, the more it forced its way through the door. However, to my pleasant surprise, there was no sound. I sat silently, sweat accumulating above my upper lip. Ok, maybe I got away with it. Maybe I’m home free. Then it hit me. Not an idea, a cloud. A horrific, fart cloud. Not in a, “am I smelling something?” sort of way. More like a “is someone dead and rotting in your trunk and am I in hell?” sort of way.

Suddenly, I panicked. “Roll down the windows!” I screamed (yes, I literally screamed it like I was in a horror movie).

“What? Why?” Rob asked, starting to freak out because I was freaking out.

“I can’t roll down the windows, unlock it! UNLOCK IT!”

“What’s going on?” Rob yells back to me, “Why are you …” then it hit him. I could see it in his eyes. Was it surprise? Horror? Water started to accumulate at the base of his eyelids, “Oh my God, I CAN TASTE IT!” he screamed.

“Roll down the windows!” As I screamed, the toots started to flood out uncontrollably. I scratched and clawed at the window like I was being kidnapped. Rob, unable to see either by fart cloud or panic, kept turning on the windshield wipers instead of unlocking the window.

It was chaos. We were acting like we were under siege by gun fire. We were under siege alright, just not by gun fire.

Finally he was able to hit the right control and he rolled down our windows. We both gulped in fresh air. I was horrified, yet happy to be alive, then remembered I just farted on the man of dreams, then sorta wished I was dead.

We sat silently for the rest of the way home. Although the shooting pains had subsided, I now desperately needed to use the bathroom, in an urgent, explosive kind of way.

He pulled up to my apartment and before he could come to a stop I had already jumped out, “Ok, thanks for dinner, sorry about the fart, love the shoes!” and ran in to my apartment like I was running from the cops.

I burst through my door and ran straight for the bathroom, where I was finally able to unleash and make noises that no one should ever, EVER, hear coming from another person.

Then I heard it. Rob’s voice. Right. Outside. My. Bathroom. Door.

“Anna? You left your shoes in my car and your front door was open. Where do you want me to put them?”

“Get away from the door!” I scream like Reagan from The Exorcist.

“Ok, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

*toot* *toot* *splatter* *ungodly noise*

“I’m fine, Rob – just leave the shoes there. I’ll call you later okay?”

“Okay, are you sure you’re …”

“I’m fine! Get away from the door!”

This man! I mean, I love him, but take a freakin’ hint!

Finally, I heard the front door shut, and the Cobra engine zoom away. I thought that was the last I’d hear from him. I didn’t think it was possible to ever see a man again after he screams he can taste your fart after only knowing you for 48 hours.

But, to my surprise, I did. A couple days later, actually. Now we’re married and he’s lying on the couch while I type this … “It was your rack that saved you,” he just lovingly reminded me.
*SBD= silent but deadly
*SBV= silent but violent

Have a good weekend folks

Thursday, May 30, 2013

Its a Family Affair

Hi-Hi everyone. Hope you all are doing well. I am marvelous. I just spent a lovely chunk of time with my family celebrating my baby brother's high school graduation. My big sister came to town for the festivities. She only stayed for like 24 hours and i only saw her for half of that time but still, its better than nothing lol. Especially since the last time i saw her was December of 2011.

Me, Mama, and The Big Sis
Me, Baby Bro and Big Sis
Words cannot express how proud i am of the little butterball for graduating. He's the last one out of the nest (never mind that i'm still sitting here lol). It's a bittersweet kinda thing. The baby (well the baby boy, because i'll always be the baby girl) is growing up. And in a month's time he'll be on a flight (or on a very long car ride) to college. I still can't believe. I almost shed a thug tear...almost.

sidenote: please tell me why Mr Passive-Aggressive Flirt (guy #2 in case you were wondering, though guy#1 popped up recently too) randomly popped up outta nowhere and started passive-aggressively flirting with me during my bro's graduation lol. Hot Mess Express.

Anywho, like i said i hope you all are doing well. Weekend is coming, get excited!

Friday, May 24, 2013

All Black Everything

Nah, this isn't a Jay-Z related post. Disclaimer (you know its serious when the disclaimer comes before the post): this whole post is seriously me randomly rambling. My bad guys. Its 1am. I did my best lol.

I have always wondered what it would be like if i had been born and raised in Nigeria instead of the US. Not even because its Father's Land (literally and figuratively), but because its a black country. Full of black people, run by black people (regardless of how incompetent some have proven themselves to be). Where you don't have to deal with the nonsense that the 2520s love to provide...or at least don't have to deal with it as often.

I've often wondered what it would have been like to go to an HBCU (historically black college/university) as well. ever since grad school i've been completely enamored with them. I'd venture to say that 90% of all the research projects i did during my masters program had something to do with HBCUs. And when they didn't specifically, i still found a way to tie them in somehow lol. Although i didn't attend one, I did get accepted into Hampton University and Xavier University of Louisiana. I actually had my mind set on Xavier but the grace of God changed my mind and my heart and I ended up in sunny Florida instead. I say its the grace of God because 1- I was seriously planning on going there, 2- i started college the last week of August in 2005 and if i had ended up at Xavier, i probably would have been swept away by Hurricane Katrina!

I did have the advantage (i guess you could call it that) of going to a majority black school district for 2nd grade through high school graduation. Part of me wants my kids (if i have any) to have that experience as well. But man, the culture shock of going from a black high school to a white university was immense. So maybe i'll push them into being Morehouse Men/Spelman Women too lol.

I have no clue where i was going with this but i'm getting sleepy. Thanks for taking the ride. Hope you have a good weekend and Happy Memorial Day if i don't blog again before Tuesday.

Thursday, May 23, 2013

We're just ordinary people

Is it weird that i don't like when people try to impress me? Not only does it make me uncomfortable, it also just kind of annoys me lol. Like dude, relax and be yourself. If i don't like you for you then i will be sure to let you know- either verbally or by ignoring you for the rest of eternity.

I think i'm bothered by it so much because i don't believe in doing a damn thing to impress anybody else (except at a job interview i guess but even that is done begrudgingly) lol. I am who i am and if you don't like it then you're free to move on. And of course i don't mean that in an arrogant way. But why should you have to change who you are (or pretend to as is often the case in these types of situations) to get someone to like/love/accept you? That doesn't make any sense at all.

The other reason it bothers me when people try to impress me is because it makes me wonder what kind of impression i'm giving off that causes you to think that i feel the need to be impressed in the first place. (As i've written here before, i really take this kinda stuff to heart.) I like to think i'm a pretty laid back type of chick. Yeah, the things i'm passionate about, i am passionate about. But in terms of my relations (not that kind of relations lol) with people, i'm pretty damn chill if i do say so myself.

I have been called bougie a number of times before tho lol. I don't think i'm bougie. Do y'all think i'm bougie?? One person that alluded to this alleged bougieness said he did kinda go outta his way to impress me because of said bougieness and the idea that i was classy and probably used to the "finer things". I don't know man. I think i'm just an ordinary person with a hint of boughetto lol

Monday, May 20, 2013

Sometimes you feel like a nut...

and sometimes you feel like posting random thoughts.

Kerry Washington just got an honorary doctorate this weekend. I wanna know, what do you have to get one of those. I was talking to a friend of mine this weekend and he asked if i planned on trying to get into a PhD program...and the very thought made me sick to my stomach lol. 1 round of grad school was more than enough. I can't imagine going back and working even harder and spending more money. It would be nice to be Dr. Lady Ngo though. That's really the only reason why i want one. So i can put some letters behind my name. Because Lady Ngo, M.A. just feels so pretentious and snooty lol. So if anyone has tips on acquiring a PhD without having to do the actual school work, please let a sista know. Thanks.

I truly hate when people (male and female alike) assert that "the joy of every woman is to be a wife and mother". If you've ever uttered these words, either as written or paraphrased in any way...#&%^ you very much! Same goes for if you've ever looked at me (or any other woman) sideways when i've said i don't know if i want kids, don't know if i want to get married, or don't aspire to fall into any other bullshit society-induced gender stereotype. Jerk.

Also, a huge side-eye at people who attempt to absolve men/boys of their parental responsibilities by using the argument that it is women who get to decide whether or not to have an abortion, so why should the man support (emotionally, financially, etc) a kid they don't want. My nigga, that is biology. You knew the risks before you decided to impregnate that woman/girl. Don't come crying with that nonsense after the fact.

Whether you like it or not, people will judge you by the company you keep. If you claim that you hate drama yet you surround yourself with people who's lives mimic that of a Soap Opera/You-Are-The-Father Maury Episode/Judge Judy...of course people are going to think you like drama lol.

When you are hungry, almost anything will taste good.

RoomieLoverFriends is back for season 2. I'm excited. Now if they could get to work on The Unwritten Rules, life will be awesome.

Is it inappropriate to pray to win the lotto? The powerball was $600mil this weekend. I definitely could have used that money lol. I didn't even need/want the whole $600mil...i definitely would've been ok with getting a couple thousand...or even a couple hundred. Oh well.

Happy Monday everyone. Hope you had a good weekend and a beautiful, safe, and productive week ahead.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Thinkin Bout Forever

Ain't nobody got time to waste playing games with folks. If you ain't shitting then get off the pot. 20-minute love affairs do not fly around here.

Disclaimer: Not directed at anyone in particular, just a general thought.

Monday, May 13, 2013

Sometimes you can judge a book by its cover

In the 2nd edition of life lessons learned in Atlanta i bring to you the following:

  1. Atlanta really is like the mecca of the black LGBTQ population. I literally couldn't go two steps without bumping into someone Gay or Transgender. Its kinda cool actually that at least there is a place where if you identify with that lifestyle you pretty much considered the norm rather than ostracized. But i can't lie. As accepting as i am, there will never be a time where i won't be hit with that initial wave of shock/confusion when i see a big burly dude come walking down the street in capri pants, a baby tee and shimmery lip gloss. *kanye shrug*
  2. All Walmarts suck. Sometimes its the actual store itself. Sometimes its the patrons. During this particular trip to walmart, i found myself in the 20 items or less lane behind a woman with $400 worth of food and another woman who didn't have any money and spent 15 minutes trying to find a combination of cash+credit that would cover her bill. SMH. All i wanted was some juice, lotion, a brush and a lint roller.
  3. I am a complete lightweight and i either need to stop drinking altogether or i need to start drinking more often. There's no reason why 1 Bahama Mama, 1 Tom Collins and a swig of Budweiser had me so far off my ass. Thank goodness for designated drivers.
  4. Mazzy's on Alpharetta Hwy has THE best chicken tenders i've ever eaten in my entire life. Their drinks are kinda gross but are totally effective, hence life lesson #3 lol.
  5. People will try to sell you anything. While i was waiting on my bus, this man swaggered over to me with a honeybun in his hand and said to me "this honeybun looks good as hell dont it?!? 75 cents." After giving him the side eye and tellin him i was good, he then pulled out a home pregnancy test and tried to sell me that. (o_0) 

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Happy Mother's Day

Hello all. Just wanted to take a moment to wish all the mommies,soon-to-be mommies, maybe one day ill give it a shot mommies, foster mommies, Godmommies, aunties and any other lady that has been a caregiver to the youth of the world a very happy mother's day!

Saturday, May 4, 2013


In keeping with my dancing mood...I bring you Kizomba. I'm on a mission to master partner dancing and what better place to start, right?

I love these two. I could watch them dance all freaking day.

I know i said a few days ago that i didn't get the concept of sexy legs...but she's got some sexy legs lol.

Thursday, May 2, 2013