I love my LYFE!

Well, you all know (cuz you've already read Hol's page) that we went to see Lyfe at the House Of Blues. The food was great. (Thanks for buying Damon) Anytime you pair fried shrimp with cheese grits it is always a winner. And nothing beats the cornbread with the maple butter. And the catfish nuggets with sweet potatoe fries, yum. Okay back to Lyfe. Anyways you all know that John Legend is Holly's baby daddy and Lyfe is mine. There is something about his voice that makes me forget he has a VD. The man can sing!!! If he only knew that I could make the projects feel like a mansion. And I'm as gentle as a blue bird damn it! Anyways the show was amazing, not John Legend amazing, but still good enough to not care he's contagious. After the show and the crazy crack man incident we hopped in the Saturn and drove away with blisters on our toes and Lyfe in our heart.

10 things

Hey everybody who wastes 3 minutes of their day to read this damn thing. Just so ya'll know those three minutes of your life are gone FOREVER!! No refunds when you read this bitch. So good luck. So Damon and Hol did the "2o things you don't know about me". Well, I'm lazy so I'm shortening it to 10.

1. I'm lazy. I would rather watch TV or read than do anything that requries me to move. Unless it's sex!
2. I am a great mother but a horrible daughter.
3. I would do anything for my friends. ANYTHING!!!! I love em'.
4. The best compliment I have ever gotten was, "You make my day Happy!" Awwww Thanks
5. I locked myself in my room when I was 15, listened to Crosby, Stills, Nash , and Young and taught myself how to be an artist. (I love Deja Vu, ya'll need to pick it up)
6. I hate country music. And when I say hate, I mean HATE. A Garth Brooks concert would be the ultimite form of tourture. It's pointless!! All they sing about is drinking and Honkey-Tonk shit. I feel the vomit rising in my throat. Ewwwww
7. If killing people were legal, my ex-husband would be at the bottom of the ocean with cemented boots on. Fuck em' and Fuck his mama for giving birth to the bastard.
8. I have a low self-esteem. I don't think I will ever live up to my own expectations.
9. I love my son Ty more than I thought I could ever love a person. He makes me smile, he makes me mad and he is the only person that still thinks I'm beautiful in the morning.
10. I've always wanted to be a dolphin trainer at SeaWorld.

So there it is folks! Hope you three have a good weekend. Love you!!!

And the Penis Frowns

Hey everybody (Holly, Eartha, and Jonathon)! I'm giving everbody a fair warning before reading this blog. This blog is about the woman I live with and the beast that she is. Her name is Roberta but she prefers "Robbie". Let's just say she looks more like a "Bob". Holly and myself, through the powers of sheer genius have come up with many names for Robbie. First it was Roberty and then is was Squaberty. You see kids she remind us of a Sashquach. Anyways, while I was in my crazy mama's womb Dr. Suess (is that how you spell it) kissed my cheek and blessed me with the ability to rhyme. So now when someone pisses me off I write a mean/comical poem about them. It makes me feel better. Robbie is not a bad person. She is just loud and ignorant...... and annoying. Did I already say loud?? So please enjoy
"Roberty Part 1"

Roberty, Roberty, are you sashquach or man?
Is it true with your head you can crush a beer can?
Big hair and loud voice, I can spot you from here.
When a penis sees you coming, it cowars in fear.
It's not that your unfriendly, creepy, or weird.
It just might be your height or your 3 foot beard.
At 6 foot 8 and feet size eleven.
Even God might hesitate your admitance to heaven.
Once I saw you in a book I had bought.
What book was it? Ripley's Believe It Or Not.
Some believe your a myth, just some sort of story.
But I've seen you move boulders at the local rock quary.
You have biceps that bulge and veins that go POP.
When people first see you they stare and they stop.
You think that they like you or are being a bit flirty.
They're just confused what you are, so we'll call you Squaberty.

So now I know what you all are thinking, "Kelly's an evil bitch!" I'm not really, just don't piss me off and I won't have to write an evil peom about you. OK!!

Part 2 & 3 coming soon..........

Explantion in order

Sooooooo, this Blog is really for Krissi. Hey Guurrrlll!! Cuz we all know (Me, Hol, and Eartha) that Holly already knows all the shit that comes out of my mouth. Holly took the pleasure of assigning me my name. White Chocolate Sticky Bunz and I'm sure you want to know why. So this one's for you Krissi......

The "White Chocolate" stems from the fact that I'm white. Oh yes, don't be shocked Krissi. I am infact a cracker not a sista. Don't let the dark skin fool you, cracker just in the sun a lot. I know I don't listen to Jesse McCartney or Kelly Clarkson, but I swear I am white. I say stupid shit and do stupid things just like other white people. I also like Black Men. I don't discriminate white guys, I just happen to prefer men who are a few shades darker. And seriously Eartha, white guys are just to reliable. They call you everyday to "check-up". I'm grown, if I wanted someone to check-up on me I never would have left my parents house!! If you don't call them everyday to tell them how great they are, they flip out! White guys need their ego's stroked and are too needy. Black guys on the other hand never call, only when they want something (ass or a favor). They don't need their ego's stroked because almost always, you are not the only girl they are seeing. Black Guys are flaky and can accept a girl with the same flaw. No commitment needed with a brotha! Amen!! So there you go Krissi, that is why Holly and Mario call me White Choclate.

Sticky Bunz is a whole different story. So here goes:

In my attempt to be bare like a porn star, I tried to give myself a brazilian wax. Not a good idea! First off I don't even have a lot of hair in my ass just some fuzz, nothing manish or anything. I just thought it would be fun to be completely bald in the southern region of my body. So with my pants down I spead the hot wax (I can't belive I'm telling you this) rubbed the cloth strip and yanked it off. Not only did no hair come off my crack, I had a nice thick layer or wax to keep me company for the next week. I got wax in my panties and wax on the toliet seat. It was impossible to get rid of the sticky! It was sad, in a "I can't believe I just did that" way. So when I told Holly this embaressing story of myself she named me Sticky Bunz. I learned a valuable lesson that day that I will soon not forget. Kids don't try it at home!

Enjoy guuurrrllll!!