Dreams of F*cking a RnB Chick

Okay. Post #15 of this 30-Day Shindig (we're halfway there, y'all. OMG!) is: My Dreams. I actually started this post on MLK Day, which is about as appropriate as an American's post about dreams can be. I originally intended this to be about my goals and aspirations and all that other folksy bullshit, but I couldn't even get past the first sentence of this things going that route. So let's talk about the other kind of dream - the kind that project from my subconscious and my senses when I go to sleep. This is sure to get pretty interesting. Let's delve deeper into the disturbed recesses of my mind, shall we:

Lately, I'm been dreaming about Stem. Back when I was drooling over her and would've been glad to have her star in my wet dreams, nothing, but now that I don't see her, don't talk to her, don't text her, and rarely even give her a passing thought, she's popped up twice. Kissing, cuddling, nuzzling, generally canoodling, and, once, even walking down the hallway with me pressed up against her ass (and what a wonderful ass it is. I should think about it more often.).

Whether we're being highly inappropriate, yet giggling (chuckling in my case, of course) our asses off and snuggling our way through the school or driving across town and snuggling our way through the streets and avenues, the outcome is always the same: We have the greatest time together, but in the end, we never get past that certain level. When it comes to the time in the dream where cliche dictates that she spill her feelings all over me and declare her undying love.....nothing. For some reason or another, she won't let herself have me.

What does it all mean? Well.....Probably exactly what it was. I've never had a dream about somebody I know that didn't literally (I mean, down to the dialogue) or figuratively happen. I don't know if that makes me some kind of psychic or just sensitive to that kind of energy or whatever, but it's true. And it's weird. And it's confirming what I already suspected - Stem wants me, but she's terrified of having me. And that changes nothing unless I want to invest time into convincing her not to be afraid to be with me and be out about it, which I don't.

I've moved on.

So if it's not my thinking about her that's causing the dreams, it (maybe) means she must be thinking about me. Well, I'm flattered, really, but it's too little, too late. A woman's gotta do a whole lot more than think about me if she wants to be with, even in my dreams.

Sunday Swag, Part 2

So, for some reason or another, Post #14 of my 30 Day blog challenge brings us back to a subject we've visited before: What I'm Wearing.

I'm not going to take up too much of your time here, seeing as how there's nothing terribly exciting or lengthy to say.

I've got on a black Hanes wifebeater, white Puma ankle socks, and - coincidence of coincidences - the same blue and black striped Sean Jean trunks from the last "What I'm Wearing" post. Don't look at me like that. I assure you that that was many weeks and many washes ago. *sniff*

Anywho, for you (pervy) fems that wanted a different angle last time, maybe this'll work for you. Don't ask why I took the picture in the first place. It's my free time, and I'll do what I want to. *double sniff*

*Slinks Back Onto Your RSS Feed Reader*

Hey. *'shamed wave*

You don't even have to say anything. I know I'm wrong. I'm such a dead beat blogger, but work and holiday shit have been calling. But we're back with Post Lucky #13 in my 30 Month Day Challenge: My Week.

Ready? Okay! *toe touch*

Sunday: Instead of enjoying the last day of my holiday break by watching bowl games, swigging the rest of my New Year's champagne, and playing with my pubic hair, as I had planned, I had to get my hustle on and do some of the work that I had largely neglected during my vacation. Key words here: my. vacation. Plus, I'm a proscratinator. I just couldn't bring myself to crack open a binder until the last minute. As a matter of fact, I should be doing some work right now, but I feel the same way about my weekends that I do about my vacations.

Monday - Wednesday: Back to the plantation. It wasn't a horrible work week. There was (and is) an assload of work for me and Apples, but nothing we can't handle IF PEOPLE WOULD STOP TRYING OUR PATIENCE AND CREATING PROBLEMS WHERE THERE DON'T HAVE TO BE ANY! *clears throat* *straightens silk Italian tie*

Thursday - Friday: Thursday night / Friday morning was a good and interesting time for me. I told Jane Doe how I felt about her. *blush* Let me tell you, it never gets easier, but I'm glad I did it. I've been working my way up to it for a lil minute now and trying to convince myself that I wouldn't be a complete idiot in doing so. We still have a lot to talk about, and I don't know what, if anything, is going to happen, but my tiny little cold, black heart grew three sizes that day. *lol* That's probably all I'm going to say about that.

If you're wondering what that means for Pokey and me, well......(unfortunately), it doesn't really change anything. With all this work we've both been doing, though, we haven't even seen each other in a minute, so *shrug*.

Other than that, Apples and I spent most of the workday walking paperwork through different departments. Fun times. The chicken teriyaki I had for lunch Friday was good, though. Having a cute cashier with a cute baby (both of them came over to our booths to play with us for a little while :) ) didn't hurt.

Saturday: I did nothing. But roomie's got a new man with a horrible haircut. I'm hoping it's service-issue 'cause there's no excuse, otherwise. But on that note, I'm glad I can add army wives to my list of potential sugar mamas. Mmmm mmmm, military benefits and discounts.

Sunday: I'm supposed to be working and/or running errands, but I'm not. Whatever my roommate is cooking does not smell appetizing, though, so maybe I should get up and out before the aroma over takes me. :-/

Duffle Bag Boi

What in da world is in that bag? Whachu got in that bag?

Yeah, I know that's two different songs, but it's my blog and I'll mash up if I want to. :P

Ahem.

This is Post #12 of my 30 Day Challenge - What's In Your Bag.

I did a little traveling this week, so this should be interesting. Let's take a peek, shall we?

We've got:

1. my wallet
2. pocket knife
3. eyeglasses screw
4. tampons
5. old receipts
6. a large banana nut muffin in a plastic grocery store bag
7. a plastic fork and a plastic spoon in a ziploc bag
8. a check stub
9. a go-pack of cookies
10. a pack of spearmint Stride gum
11. Vaseline lip balm
12. a bottle of Axe
13. a stick of deodorant
14. ink pens
15. condoms (Be spontaneous, but be safe, kids.)
16. lollipops that Apples surely stole from some child around Halloween

And there you have it. I'm sure you've all been thoroughly entertained.

Sunday Swag

Fortunately and unfortunately, Post #10 - What I Wore Today, falls on a Sunday.
Unfortunate for you because I didn't wear much, so this post is going to be short (but not entirely boring. Just wait for it.) Fortunate for me because if I don't know how I could've described my weekday attire to you and maintained my thin veil of anonymity. My style is my own. I don't wear things I've seen other people wear, staples and basics of fashion excluded, so if somebody else out there were to be dressed like me, it would either be a crazy coincidence or a half-ass copycat. I say half-ass because they can match me down to the draws, but they can't wear the clothes the way I do, so it won't look the same.

Anywho, I woke up in my black Fruit of the Loom wifebeater, medium blue Hanes boxer briefs, and a pair of baggy, thin, black cotton pants.

After breakfast, work out, and a shower, I put on a gray Hanes wifebeater, blue and black-striped Sean John trunks (one of my favorite pair of undies. They're very soft.), and baggy indigo wash Gap jeans.

I'm still wearing that right now, minus the jeans. Click on the jump cut if you'd like to get into my pants. (I feel like I need a "for the ladies only" disclaimer right here, but I hate that shit, and, frankly, I don't really care who looks or doesn't look, just don't leave me no sideways-ass comments.)

Night of the Living Dead

This is Post #8 in my 30-Day Blog Variety Show - A Moment.

I definitely had a bit of a moment today while taking out the trash after snack:

If you've seen me in the tweets, you've probably guessed by now that I am more than a little enthused about healthy living (You probably wouldn't guess it just looking at me, *pats stomach* but I'm working on restoring myself to my former glory. *lol*), and that includes cleanliness.

So what do I manage to do while putting the bag in the dumpster?

Scrape the skin off my arm right above the bend of my elbow on a rusty piece of trashcan metal.

O.M.G.

I couldn't freak out because I'm a big, tough stud...or whatever, but I was panicking a little on the inside because - Well, shit. Because I don't like tetanus, tetanus shots, or pus-ing, oozing, discolored infections on my person. Also, I am a reformed scab picker. I'm gonna blame that on my studhood, as well.

Anywho, I calmly made my way back inside and look around as I make my way back through the kitchen for something to disinfect it with. No such luck, but I know there's a big bottle of sanitizer in the other room. So I go out there, and who's pumping away at the sanitizer but Apples.

"Move, girl," I tell her. "I cut my arm on the dumpster."

She moves without protest when she hears that and informs me that she will have no choice but to put me out of my misery if I turn into a zombie as a result of my injury. (.__.  ) (Apples is as big of a fan of zombie movies and shows as she is of fruit. This is a love we do not share. :-/ )

So I slather my hands in sanitizer, then use my clean hands to slather my arm two or three times. When I got home, I washed it twice with antibacterial Dial liquid soap.

I'm okay now.

My Buddy and Me

This is post #7 in my 30-Day Blog Challenge that I started about 90 days ago, but let's focus on the positive.

I'm back.

Not because I really wanted to keep doing this, but because I'm an asshole, and I couldn't stand the thought of letting Brother Fox pass me when she just started six days ago. *lol*

If you've been following along, you know that Apples is my one of my favorite women in the world. I love that girl. Even better, she loves me back. We share a brain, which is scary. If you haven't noticed, I am both random and perverted, so for someone to know what I'm thinking and actually be thinking the same thing is rare and frightening. It's great. *lol*

There's not much I wouldn't do for Apples. I'm learning how to be a great friend from her. She's my big sister. We buy each other lunch and don't keep score of who's turn it is. We take naps together. She's been over to my place more than once, which is huge for me because I don't like a bunch of people knowing the details of my personal space and invading my sanctuary. I'm hermitty that way, but not with Apples.

We tell each other damn near everything. There's a give and take of advice, conversation, music and other pop culture discoveries, and teasing. When good things happen, we are happy for each other. There is no jealousy. There isn't even a healthy competition - it's much more of us rooting for each other and encouraging one another to be better because we want to see each other succeed and be happy. I guess that's why we have the bond we do. It's so very hard to find a relationship of any kind that is genuinely mutually beneficial on a 50/50 level, so when you finally do, you grab on fast and hold on tight.

Apples is my best friend, even if she did threaten to beat me with a bag of her namesake the other day. *lol*

Check out our theme song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PcaeOK-HYEE

A Day in the Life

This isssss / For the stalker in youuu!

I'm kidding.

This is Post #6 in my 30 Day Blog Challenge Spectacular - My Day.

Oh leh dewit:

• 12:00-1:30am - I was getting it in with CoCo. We were supposed to be watching Shottaz, but some time after the cops killed Blacka, a hand found its way down my pants, and that was all she wrote.
• 1:30-1:45am - Recovery. When I said we got it in, I mean we got it in. Not that I wanted to go anywhere, but for a good ten/fifteen minutes there, we couldn't have moved if we tried. "Blissed out" would definitely be the best descriptor here.
• 1:45-6:00am - Once our limbs started working again, we formed our customary human surgeon's knot and fell asleep all cuddled up. I never dream after a good nut or when I've had an exhausting day, so there was nothing but blackness and silence. We didn't even move, for once waking up in the same position we went to sleep in. The alarm on my Blackberry goes off at the same time every weekday morning - 6:00am - though I'm usually awake before then. CoCo says I pee at 5:53 everyday. I'll take her word for it.
• 6:00-7:00am - I rolled over and went back to sleep because, frankly, I'm deserving all the rest I can get these days because I'm definitely paying the cost to (hopefully) be the boss in the very near future.
• 7:00am - My roommate is home from work and CoCo is in the shower, so I pick out and iron my work clothes.
• 7:20-7:45am - I wash up, brush my hair, spray on my smell-goods, get dressed, and grab my bags.
• 7:45-7:50am - I stuff one of said bags with some breakfast food, fruit, chips, and cookies.
• 7:50 - 8:15am - I walk CoCo to her car, kiss her goodbye, and see her off, then hop in the car and hit the expressway to work.
• 8:20am - 3:50pm - Work. Work. Work. Work. On days like these, you can't really stop to eat, so I eat while I work and take little 5 minute breaks here and there to keep myself from zoning out over the piles of budget worksheets and Word document after Word document. Fun times. No, really. It's hard and trying work, but I'm good at it and I love it. Get me some good help - which I have in Apples and our friend and coworker Tisha - and leave me in peace - which I finally got this week - and I can make it do what it do. Being fulfilled is a great feeling. Tiring, but great.
• 4:10pm - My 4pm conference caller finally rings us up just to tell us that she doesn't really need to talk to us unless we have questions, so I jet. I've been horny since 3, so I tell CoCo to meet at my place.
• 4:40pm - I put my stuff away, shed some articles of clothing, grab my water out of the fridge, and listen to CoCo tell me about her day while I check my twitter.
• 5:45ish-7:00ishpm- We're half watching James and the Giant Peach, half fooling around until we both figure out where the plot is going and decide to turn our full attention to more fascinating activities. I've been patiently waiting, but that doesn't mean ol' girl is going to get off nice and easy. I put it on her until we've both worked up an appetite.
• 7:00pm - I make us a sammich to share. Turkey, ham, and provolone on whole grain with mayo and spicy brown mustard, pickles on the side, and a bag of. Sun Chips.
• 8:00pm - We start watching Season 3 of Avatar: The Last Airbender, which we'll probably be doing for the rest of the night. It's 10 o'clcok, and we're about to start episode 5 right now. I love this show. It's real and human in a way that extremely rare in most television series, period, never mind something that's usually - and unfortunately - thought of as a kids' show.

What Is Love?

It's been a long time. I shouldna left you. Without a dope post to read to.

Ahem.

As those of you that follow me on twitter know, I've been engrossed in my job, moving into my new place, and working things out for the 1,000,001 time with Senorita CoCo, but I'm back now, and I will resist the urge to put on a vest and vogue long enough to finish this post, I promise.

I've been kinding of dreading Post #5 of my 30 Day Blog Challenge BlowOut - My Definition of Love - if only because I have no idea what to say. I guess we can go with what I do know about it.

1. You can't have a successful relationship without love; you also can't have a successful relationship if love is all you have.
2. Love is the tangible intangible. You know it when it's upon you, but you can't really but the how and the why of it all into words. I'm sitting here trying to think about love in terms of the relationship I ha(ve) with Coco, and, while I can definitely tell you that I love her and I can list all the things that I love about her, I can't even begin to describe what it is between us that makes it love rather than strong like. I can feel it, I know it's there, but I don't know what it is.
3. Love makes me feel all happy, cared for, and warm inside. It definitely brings out the goofy in me. I smile more, the urge to strangle my coworkers isn't as strong, and my muse starts telling me to write ballads.
4. Love is insanity. It is nothing short of crazy when a living being puts the needs and wants of another living being that isn't carrying on its DNA before its own.
5. Love is worth it.

And if you're still checking for this blog after all this time, I love you for reading. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be in my shower trying to match the off-key genius of this gem:

All In My Grill

I've skipped another day, but I'm back. This is post #4 in my 30 Day Blog Challenge (say it like dude on that episode of the Cosby Show) - What I Ate Today - or yesterday, in this case.

I'm sticking the rest of this post under the cut because there are pictures to load.

Amores Perros

Redacted to protect the innocent and the guilty.

Jump In, Jump Out

INtroduce yoself!

My name is S. K.. (Hey!) And I don't play! (Hey!) I'm from the dirty. (Hey!) I rep GA! *double dutches*

I'm just kidding. I can't double dutch.

This is Post #1 in my 30 Day Blog Challenge Spectacular - Introduce Yourself, so here I am, laying myself as bare as my thin veil of semi-anonymity will allow.

So here goes: