Possums, have you ever been caught between a rock and a hard place?

What if the rock and the hard place was sweaty and the size of a small powder room?

Not sure?

Well, player read on!

It all started with the diet to end all diets- My Anna Wintour a.k.a Fashion’s Night Out Diet (I needed tough love, and Miss Anna is well-known for not liking the fuller set) and the fact that Miss Ava just recently turned sixteen!

Never you mind what age I had Ava.

Okay, I was ten!

You do the math!

Okay, I wasn’t ten, but I was close enough! I was still in my teens. Don’t be surprise Possums, these things tend to run in families. I have a cousin who has a cousin, which may or may not make us cousins, but cousins we still are and they had their children at like fourteen. I don’t think it is the water, why some children are more prone to be hornier than some. I think you can blame it on boredom…and the fact that Harry Potter books weren’t around back then to keep us preoccupied!

Anyways, in order to prepare for my trip to New York many a things had to take place. There were the obvious-the hair, manicure, pedicure, facial, waxing of the coco, make-up, outfits selection and footwears, but the most important one of all was the buying of the girdle.

So Possums, I decided to christen Ava with her first girdle!

You can never be too young to get a girdle. Trust me, Ava is ready. When the girl heard that she was going to go to New York and that it was going to be in less than a week, she wanted me to get her a corset and strap her in!

Titanic-style!

Now if you want a girdle of all girdles you don’t go to the larger department store. And you definitely don’t go to place like Victoria Secret! Do their models look like they need to hold anything in? They only thing they probably need to hold in is their man! No, Ava and I went to the ghetto. You see Possums, you have to look at the demographics. You don’t go to the large mall where a lot of skinny people hang out, you go to the small mall where the bigger people hang out! Just a little tip from me to you.

Ava tried on this fabulous girdle that I picked out. But, let me tell you how it made her lose like 10 pounds!!! No lie! I turned to Girdle Woman and told her to grab me one to try on and supersize it please!

“But, this can’t be right! What is going on?” I asked myself as I tugged on the girdle.

“Mmmn..okay.”

It wouldn’t budge. I then took off the girdle and put in one foot at a time.

I wiggled the girdle half way up one leg and then slipped my other foot in and pulled up the girdle on the other side. All of the sudden, the light began to dim.  I then turned around so that I didn’t have to see my reflection in the mirror.

I wasn’t quite there yet. I then tried to get it over my hips.

Possums, first I took off my top!

Then my breasts felt so heavy and the walls began to close in.

I then took my bra off!

I began to grunt.

“Are you okay in there?” asked Ava.

“Uh. Uh.”

The lights began to flicker. Why is it so frickin’ HOT in here?

Possums, call Maya Angelou.

I know why the cage bird sings.

I couldn’t help it.

I bent over and rested my hands on my knees. I was almost there, Possums. Just a few inches more to pull up over.

I then fell towards the back wall.

I contemplated taking off my hair….but I couldn’t.

It was sewed in.

I even contemplated taking off my false eyelashes!

Possums, do you want to know what a store owner’s worst nightmare? It is not an abundance of clearance that will never sell.  It’s two Black women in a change room!

Together!

“Let me in!” demanded Ava.

“Why… is…this girdle…. so tight?” I tried to ask, as she pushed her way into the change room.

“It’s suppose to be tight! It’s a girdle!” she answered.

“Just help me get it off please!” I begged.

“Okay,try to lean back and lift one leg up.” she instructed.

“Girl, do you think I am a dog! I can’t feel my legs! All the blood has stopped right at MY KNEES!” I whispered loudly.

Possums, have you ever been caught between a rock and a hard place?

What if the rock and the hard place was sweaty and the size of a small powder room?

Oh, wait I asked you that already.

Possums, that is how delirious I became!

“Ava, pass me the Vaseline from my handbag!”

“Why do you have Vaseline in your purse?” she asked.

I stopped to look at her.

She looked back at me.

She felt a mini-lecture about to happen.

“Ava, a Black woman should always have Vaseline in her purse in case she comes down with ashy skin, chapped lips, a tighter-than-usual-spot, a cubic zirconia ring to shine, dry cuticles, a cowlick or a burn. Cause nothing is more worse than having to walk around with burns after having so much fun.”

“A burn? What from?” she asked.

“Never you mind!”

“Everything, okay in there?” asked Girdle Woman, through the crack of the door.

“Yes. Yes.” I answered.

“Remember, you ripe you buy,” said Girdle Woman.

Possums, she was right. When I came out, I saw her Girdle Woman-made sign right over the cash register.

Possums, the girdle didn’t rip.

But let’s just say that the next person trying on this girdle will definately have an easier time at it!

Batter grease and all!

Miss Wintour does not endorse any diet on this website. For entertainment purposes only.

I cook the bacon with my eggs for breakfast and then I sit down at the table, as usual. And when I am finished my food, I sop up the eggs with a piece of bread (whole wheat, of course), and THEN I remember that I am not suppose to eat anything that had a snout before it landed on my plate.

And then I think to myself, “the poor delicious thing”, as I wipe the corner of my mouth with a linen napkin.

Then I renew my vow to myself to never eat another thing that was breathing before I ate it.

And then I will go about my day, until it’s lunchtime, when I stop by my local sub place, to eat a nice long rib sub with so much onions that the man behind the counter asks me with certainty, “No date tonight, eh?”

And it is only after I finish my sub and sop up the last bit of BBQ sauce that dripped from the corner of my mouth, when I remember that I am not suppose to eat anything that could bat long eye lashes, until the cow comes home…and in a way Possums, they do.

And then I think to myself, “the poor delicious thing”, as I wipe the corner of my mouth with a paper napkin.

And then I will go about my day, until the evening, when I eat some baked honey garlic chicken, with a small side dish (mixed veggies, of course!) and I lick off the succulent bone until it turns white! I then remember that I am not suppose to eat anything that had to do with the wrangling of the cocks!

And then I think to myself, “the poor delicious thing”, as I wipe the corner of my mouth with a paper towel.

Possums, I wasn’t always like this. There was a time, albeit a long time ago, that I could not even think of yamming a piece of meat…unless it belong to a man.

But, of course!

I remember the time when I was way young. My family and I went on a trip to visit my dad’s parents in Jamaica. And because we didn’t go often, my Grandparents turned it into a huge event. They always threw a party a couple of days after our arrival. I would like to think that it had to do with the fact that all the neighbors wanted to wish us well. My parents would like to think that it had to do with the fact that my Grandmother got tired of being peppered with questions every five minutes by her nosy neighbors!

My Grandmother had an animal menagerie on her property. She knew that I would appreciate her animals. I was not a “nerd”, per se. I would like to consider myself, “scholastic”. I remember my brother, sister and I took a strong liking to these three little Billy goats that my Grandparents had in the pen. My Grandfather named each one of those Billy goats after us.

I felt special.

I felt loved.

I felt owned.

My brother, sister and I would break off pieces of shrub off the short trees nearby and feed them with it. And sometimes, my grandfather would give us a small bag of feeding and the little things would come right up close to the fence and eat right out of our hands. I guess, this is where I learnt how to deal with a man! Have something they crave and you will basically have them eating out of your hands!

Sometimes, I would visit the three Billy goats on my own when everyone was taking their afternoon naps and tell them little stories about Canada and such. I even tried to get my Granddaddy to take my yellow ribbons and tie little bows around their necks, in order to dress them up for the big house party my Grandmother was putting together.

He told me that they needed a different kind of “dressing” to get ready for the party….

Well, on the day of the party, there was the usual hustle and bustle. There were men there cooking up food in large Dutch pots made out of iron over make-shift stoves. The smell was amazing! I still remember it!  Since I was finished getting ready first, my mother gave me permission to go downstairs and get myself a freezie out of the freezer. Well, sure enough I skipped-to-the-loo down to the small house that contained the freezies and threw open the lid of the freezer.

Do you know something Possums?

Do you know how food gets on the table?

How it gets prepared?

How it gets cooked?

It is just not “magically delicious”. There is a process.

You see Possums, when I was real little; I never cared where the food came from. I never even spent time watching my mother put the food into the cart at the supermarket. I was too busy trying to fandangle some chocolate chip cookies into the cart before she saw it!

But, I digress.

Possums, looking back at me from the freezer, were all our namesakes! All staring back at me!  All with their tongues hanging out!

Possums, there were only their heads in the freezer! The rest of them, the men were cooking! All the stories, all the dreams, all the memories, I shared with them were gone. Gone and boiling in the cast iron pots in the bright Jamaican sun!

I screamed so hard that I passed out! Right in front of the freezer! Or, so they told me

Possums, it wasn’t my finest hour!

So, now you know why I need to find myself a new diet. As fond as I am of Billy goats, and all animals of Farmer Ted’s kingdom, they just taste so darn good!

One day, I was in my zebra patterned, Buddha-filled bathroom, when I gazed upon some old magazines sitting in my bamboo basket. Never you mind what I was doing in there, but I will tell you that I started to flip through a magazine when I came across a picture of Helen Mirren, vacationing in a bathing suit.

Possums.

Possums.

Possums.

She wasn’t even wearing a full bathing suit.

She wasn’t even wearing a tankini.

Not even a bathing suit with a freakin’ shawl tied around her waist!

The woman was wearing a bikini!

Hot damn!

The woman is like sixty-four years old!

I know what you’re thinking- how is this a Helen Mirren diet? Well, I tore out that picture of the woman and photocopied it and plastered it, not only on the front of my fridge, but on all the soft cheeses, bread and cold cuts in my fridge.

I don’t need the hope later on, Possums. I need it right now!

And it’s working.  Every time, I get a craving after dinner, I mosey on over to the fridge then…BAM! I see Miss Mirren’s long flat belly staring back at me, and then I do a u-turn. Every time, I notice that my sandwich is missing something extra, I pony on up to my refrigerator then…BAM! I see Miss Mirren’s luscious limbs waving back at me, and then I do a u-turn.

Possums, I am doing so many u-turns, that I one day a lover is going to catch me and give me a traffic violation in the middle of my kitchen! But, that’s okay; I have red furry handcuffs in my bedroom, if needed.

I know that the “Five Stages” are supposed to be helpful when dealing with grief.

But, I ask you, could that be applied to any type of grief?

Stage One-Denial

“Spinach, again?” I asked yesterday, as I watched Ava sit down with another plate of spinach in front of her.

Stage Two-Anger

This is getting ridiculous!

But, let me tell you how I could never get Miss Ava to eat even an ounce of spinach before, let alone look at it!

Possums, I don’t even think she likes the color green!  Now, don’t get me wrong, I love me some spinach! But, it has to go with scrambled eggs, a side of bacon, a small stack of toast and some orange juice just to wash it down!

And now that since Ms. Seyfried has declared that spinach and only spinach, was going to help her shed her pounds, that is all that Ava has been eating!  I know that I am being silly, but Possums, I didn’t realize that there really was a “raw” part of the diet.

When you turn down good food in my house, that I had to sweat over, push my hair back, wipe my brow and lovingly make that phone call to my favorite Chinese restaurant, then hell’s gonna pay! Okay, I only ordered a side of plain fried rice and some steamed veggies. But, Possums, I made my famous award-winning (okay only in my mind) fried chicken. I had to wash the chicken in vinegar and water, and then I made a nice “chicken rub” of seasoning salt, parsley, oregano, garlic and onion. Then, I had to roll the chicken into the egg, then the rub, and at last the flour. And then bake it in the oven.  So, you can figure where the anger was stemming from!

Stage Three-Bargaining

“Where’s my spinach?” asked Ava.

“Tonight, you are going to take a break from “your spinach”. Ava, just because Miss Skinny-ninny said that all she was going to yam was spinach, doesn’t mean that it is all you gonna eat too!” I told her.

“Why not?” she asked.

You know Possums, they say in life when a child asks you a tough question, you need to do everything you can to not only question everything they put in front of you, but pepper them with knowledge at the same time. In other words, play water with fire! (Side Note: Just to let you know, I am the only holding the bucket of water!)

“Do you want to be bulimic?” I asked her.

“Bulimic?”

“It is when you eat your food, my food and a half a cupboard of snacks and THEN you make yourself throw up!”

“What does that do?”

“You never gain weight!”

“Umm…”

“Forget that!” I told her.  “Do you know the facts of anorexia, Ava?”

“I know that-,” she started and I pulled a Kanye on her. I was not going to let her finish!

“Miss Ava, do you want your period to stop?” I asked.

“Yes, then I won’t get no more pains every month,” she answered.

“I guess!!! Yeah, those period pains are painful, aren’t they?” I said.

“ Miss Ava, do you want your clothes to hang off you like a hanger?” I asked.

“Yes, cause then I can fit into a size two,” she answered.

“I guess!!!  Yeah, fitting in a size two would be nice.  It seems that most designers are not cutting the cloth the way they used to.  Non?” I said.

“But, Miss Ava, do you want your bones to stick out all over the place?” I asked.

“Yes, then everyone will notice that I have high cheekbones!” she answered.

“I guess!!! I, myself have always wanted those chiseled cheekbones and strong jaw-lines of Miss Sophia Loren. Remember I played her all last year and two months of this year?” I said.

“But, Miss Ava, do you want to lose all your coloring in your face?” I asked.

“Yes, then maybe the blemishes on my face will get lighter!” she answered.

“I guess!!! I do have a little trouble with covering up the odd blemish I get here and there. If it wasn’t for my bronzer, I wouldn’t know what to do!”

Stage Four-Depression

“I just want to look a bit skinner. Remember, all that attention those boys gave that girl yesterday when she was walking by them in the mall? She had really skinny thighs and a large space between her legs. I want that!” said Ava.

“Ava, let me tell you something that I realized a long time ago.”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Come close.”

“Closer.”

“A little closer.”

And then for dramatic effect, so that she could remember this for the rest of her life, I put about five inches of space between her face and mine (don’t worry, I didn’t eat the chicken, yet) and I said to her, “You may think that you want to be one of those girls who have a big space between their legs when they walk. But, let me tell you, Ladybird, one of the sweetest things to a man is when you are in a mist of making love and you have enough strength to wrap your legs around his waist and squeeze it tight! Another thing, no man is ever thinking if there is space between your thighs, when you walk. He is only thinking that there better be something there in that said space that is holding the whole damn thing together!  Remember that!”

And with that I turned and went into the bathroom.

Stage Five-Acceptance

I then remembered one thing.

“Ava?” I called from the bathroom.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to be left with a smaller chest than what you have?  Cause when you lose a ton of weight, right quick, they tend to detach themselves and float away”

“Ava?”

“Ava?”

“Hello, Miss Ava?”

I walked into kitchen only to hear the sound of the microwave going off.

“I see you’re eating the pizza, you refused last night.”

“Yes,” she answered in between bites.

“It has Chicken, Feta… and Spinach on it.”

It is enough to make my eyes water!

And now I have to take her to discount designer places, you know the places that say they are discount designer, but there are nothing “designer” about them.

“What’s wrong with this one?” I asked.

“It is not showing enough skin!” my mother replied. “Do they carry any leather tops? I want to feel sexy.”

“Mom, what are you into dominatrix, stuff?”

“What is that?” she asks.

Ava answered, “It is when a woman dominates a man and gets him to do all sorts of things beyond his will.”

“It’s what you have been doing to dad all these years!” I added.

“Oh, well, then yes, I am into…what is it called again, dominatrix?” she answered as she trotted off to the nearest sales boy.

“Hi, there, yes, do you have nice tops for a dominatrix?” she asked.

Possums, the sales man’s face turned as white as a ghost. Did I add that he was already white! As he tried to regain his bearings, I kindly pushed her to the back of the store. We eventually left with a few skimpy tops, but sadly, for her, none of them were leather.
I then had to drive her around a few places, cause it is in the middle of the friggin’ winter and not a lot of places have little itty-bitty things. And besides, these things, in my opinion can’t be that itty-bitty, cause Possums, have you met my mother? There is nothing itty-bitty on her, but maybe her pinky toe!

When I got home, I was sitting on my toilet, in my zebra-filled bathroom and in front of me I saw my Vogue magazine with Gisele Bündchen and Lebron James, the basket ball player, on its cover. I recall years ago the uproar this simple cover started. Everyone was upset that there was a white model with a black man on the cover of a fashion magazine. What was the uproar in that? I still can’t see it. Maybe it was suppose to be sensational on Anna Wintour’s part, but now when I look at it, I see a magazine striving (albeight, slowly) for change.

Look at Miss Gisele now. She took on a man who just broke up with his girlfriend, who later found out she was pregnant. Then she decided to stay and become this little boy’s stepmother. Miss Model is now married and blessed with a small son of her own! Then I got to thinking of my mother. Possums, I can’t lie, you should have seen the look on her face as she carried her choices around the store. She looked so happy! The tinier the cloth of the tops got, the bigger her smile became. I know I would be doing the world a disservice for letting her roam about the world in these things, but she deserved to be so happy. It may seem like a small thing, but for a old lady like her, it seemed like the world.

Sometimes, in life you need to not only encourage yourself, but your friends to change even their outward appearance. I don’t think it is shallow, I think it is life saving! When you see yourself in the mirror, sometimes it is that extra oomph you need. And trust me when I say this, that such positive change will watch it trickle down to other areas of your life, as well.

And did I mention she now sashays when she walks! Yes, Possums, the woman, also known as my mother, sashays!

It is like watching two small Sharpei fight under a pair of denim!

Always.

So, while I was languishing under my doctor’s care, and at the time making a pit stop in my zebra-filled bathroom, I  looked down at my bamboo basket that is filled with new and vintage magazines and saw Kate Moss smoldering back at me.

While I was in the hospital, I heard that Miss Moss made a little comment in an interview with fashion tribe Women’s Wear Daily.

Miss Moss reminded us all that “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.”

Top Drawer!

And although, she designs for Topshop which caters to A LOT of young girls, I can see why everyone is in a tizzy.

People shouldn’t make comments like this because they have impressionable readers.

Impressionable readers like moi!

So, since I have been impressed upon, I have added a new dimension to my diet. I have named it…get ready for it…..

THE KATE MOSS DIET!

But of Course!

I have lost already 3 pounds on it. I don’t care if it is water weight or real poundage, but I don’t care! It has gone and flew out my butt!

Try it!

It works!

I went to the local pastry shop, okay it was Tim Horton’s, but “pastry shop” sounds so illustrious, non? Anyhoo, I went to one and ordered a small bagel and suddenly got a craving for a donut. When all of the sudden I thought to myself, “this donut will not taste as good as skinny feels.” And it worked! It reminded me that this jelly-filled monstrosity will go directly through my belly and stay there! And even though the Counter Lady threw me a dirty look, I did not care I was one more step to my skinny jeans!

And Possums, I didn’t stop there!

I had dinner at my mother’s house and she tried something new-meatloaf. I know. I know. How common is meatloaf? Ask around, not common in a Cuban/Jamaican’s house, for sure!  So, when my mother asked why wasn’t I touching her meatloaf and I told her that her food would not taste as good as skinny feels. Not, only did she start an argument with me, but that with my father, who suddenly proclaimed to her as well, that this meatloaf, which is quite suspect to him, probably does not taste as good as skinny feels as well. And then my brother. And then my sister. But, not my sister’s child Dante.

Dante is like Mickey.

He eats everything!

I am slowly added this “diet” to other areas of my life as well. So at different occasions I have said to myself:

Nothing tastes as good as a penis in my vagina feels.

Nothing tastes as good as a penis no where near my bottom feels.

Nothing tastes as good as a penis no where near my mouth feels.

I don’t know Possums, they loved the first one, but not the last two.

Funny, non?

p.s. No, I can’t read Japanese. But, a non-wise woman always said that if you want to learn a new language sometimes you have to use the closest (and cheapest) things you have on hand.

No, I didn’t say that.

It was my mother.

But of Course!!!

Which was becoming my favorite thing to do.

And I am not happy about it!

Who knew that such a small stick in my mouth could bring me such pleasure!

Who also knew that it would take my physical coming up with the insurance company to make me finally stop!

Do you think it will clear out of my system soon? It is not like they can check if there is any smoke residue in my urine, can they? If this is true, then there are going to be a whole bunch of sad people in my family and their ganga dealers will be upset too!!

Not that I ever smoked ganga.

It is just a for instance!

So I have gone back to my favorite past-time that I can always rely on-cleaning.

I was scrubbing away at my greasy ass stove when I started to think about food and surprisingly this time not the lack of it. It is all about the spiritual cleanse. Some say that when you are lighter you can hear your inner voice more clearly. Those teachers were definitely in the know.  Yoga wasn’t the only thing that made them thinner, it was their diet. Leafy greens, lean meats and fruits will do that to you. Maybe, I could just do a skinnier healthier guy, instead? Non?  I guess that’s why we are encourage to eat light in order to clear our head before we make decisions.

Looking through my cupboard I could see so much carbs I took in! It is obscene! The boxes of Jos. Louis, the Stouffer’s Ready Made Scalloped Potatoes, the cans of gravy, macaroni and the many bags of pasta. To think that all of this time, I was drowning in sugar with every bite!

When I was finally finished my cupboard was practically bare. When I looked down at the plastic bag, there was so much food!

With a new cupboard, I need new recipes to fall back on. All the sudden I am into cooking shows. There is one show (I won’t mention her name), but she is a dead ringer for a bobble head! Her body is so pin-thin! It makes me wonder if she eats any of her own Italian cooking! I bet she spits it out when the cameras are off!

Know who I like? Ms. Paula Dean!

The creams, the sugars, the butters, and her cute sons, I love it all and want more of it, please and thank-you! I wish that veggie cooking could be that delightful, but it is not. Not even when I squint my eyes and “accidentally” put some regular mayo and a large packet of butter on them, it still does not do the trick for me.

But, I digress.

Ms. Dean, is one beeyotch I can relate too! I am sorry, but I call most women beeytoches. This is how I do. If you don’t like, then read elsewhere… just don’t tell my mother, or my brother or sister that I have a website!

I was sitting on the toilet in my Zebra and Buddha filled bathroom, when I glanced at my bamboo basket filled with old fashion magazines. And lo and behold, there was Ms. Keira Knightley smiling at me. And you know what she said to me?

She said, “Girl, I am HUNGRY!!!!”

“Girl,”I says to her, “ME TOO!!!”

“But, unlike you, Lucresia, I have an image to uphold. Karl Lagerfeld don’t make fat clothes for Chanel, and I wouldn’t feel right if only two knobs of my twenty-four knobs of my spine showed,” she said in that distinct accent of hers.

“But, unlike you, Ms. Knightley, I have enough fat on me to lay low on food for a long long time. Did I mention a long time!” I said back to her. “And, I too, have an image to uphold-as a regular woman. And Karl Lagerfeld may not make clothes for fat people, but, honey I guarantee you, that I can get an exact replica of that there Chanel jacket for $19.99 down in Little Portugal, where they have serious tailors that make a good cut. There may be some tiny flaws, but given the recession and forwad CC logo, it is definitely a bargain!”

“But, back up,  Ms.Knightley how did you know my name???”

Anyhoo.

I am still smoking.

Smoking and working out on a treadmill.

It is a fine line between smoking, working out and trying to eat healthy.
A very fine line.

And I know this.

As you all know I just came back from the land of the skinnies and the continuous Botox-Hollywood. I thought I would feel uncomfortable in the land of size zeros, but I actually feel quite good about myself.

A little denial can go a long way.

The funniest thing though, there were a lot of people in L.A. that were at a normal healthy size. I saw plenty of larger girls getting their puss on and relishing in it! The one thing that I noticed all around were how coiffed everyone was!

Loving it!

I NOW know there are a bunch of yaks and bald Thai women running around on the other side of the world.

This just goes to show you that the “powers that be” really do dictate all that we see in the media.It all comes down to self-acceptance, which sounds so cliché, but it is true! I am trying so hard to keep with this life change, and with another seven pounds lost , it feels quite liberating!

Then my shoes, cause we all know that being barefoot gives you better traction.

I had just enough time to contemplate whether or not to take off the toe ring.

If the tracks of my weave could come out then I would do that too.

I lifted both my breasts out of my bra, so that my large bosoms can help out when they could.

I did take my rings off my finger cause it would not be fair.

They say that when you are near the end of your life you often see images of yester- years passing you by. I saw my mother giving birth to me, I saw myself playing checkers with my papito, I thought I saw myself getting my hair and nails done, and I know I saw myself making love, but there was no one there (maybe he went to the bathroom). I did, however, see the end of this fight.

And I won.

It all started with me  at McDonald’s trying to find something suitable to eat, when I stepped into the line. You know that with me being on a diet, there are not many options. Clearly, the woman was already upset because a whole bunch of teenagers came and “budded” in front of her. But, yet the Jigga decided that it was going to be me on her menu!

Why is it when people have a bad day that they chose not only to blame you, but blame your ancestors, your family and your unborn children???

And I was not having it!

If this woman was going to go way back and act like a Neanderthal, then I too, was going to go back and act like an ignate cavewoman!

She tried to make me feel like Hugh Grant after he got caught with the prostitute, but I felt more like Hugh Grant after he beat up the paparazzi!

But, let me tell you that God invented hair tossing for a reason-for dramatic effect! I sussed that Jigga out and she didn’t even know that it was coming! She took off! People cheered for me! I felt like a hero.

As you know that I have magazines in my bamboo basket at home in my zebra and Buddha filled bathroom. And you know that I collect old fashion magazines too. And as you also remember that when I am in a compromising position on the toilet, my magazine covers tend to smile back at me…unless, it is Italian Vogue, then they are just smoldering  at me. Well, instead of seeing Drew Barrymore, this time I had Nicole Richie on the cover of Bazaar. She did smile at me, but her smile was more like-“Oooh girl, you’s in trouble!” And when a former party girl now turned new mother hen looks at you in that way, you know more change needs to come.

Yes, people, I need more Jesus in my life!

I tried to go over the scriptures in my head, but I kept on grasping at straws. Not the Ten Commandments (I got over that a long time ago, when I kept on getting stuck on one of them, which one, never you mind). I kept on asking myself what would Jesus do? I know Jesus would pray for her…pray that someone comes around and really socks that mother in the mouth!

….or maybe not.

So again I looked back at Nicole Richie and she was like, “Oh chile, look how I do. I exchanged one man for the next, I gave up Lindsay Lohan and brought Joel into my life. And then I had a baby and now I am Earth Mother Goddess with really amazing hair! You can do the same. You need to let go of what is not working in your character and go from there.”

And I said to Nicole, “Ms.Rachel-Zoe-Jennifer-Aniston look-a-like, I will do. I have to examine that it is not enough of letting people or objects go, but bad behaviors too. I need to do this…and quietly, without GOD finding out, because HE has a way that when you want to get rid of anger, he will bring more issues with anger in your life to deal with and I have enough drama already!”

And when Nicole didn’t reply, I figured it was because I realized that she was on a magazine cover not that real.  I don’t think she realized it cause she ended up still smiling at me.

So the moral of the story is-there is a reason why they have that big M on their sign. It stands for Muthaf’er and that’s how it went down!

Yes, please!

I was led to my table by a lovely waitress. The place reminds me of a McDonald’s…in the seventies. I guess this is definitely not about the décor on this one (greasy diner with lots of plant life).  It is all about the food!

It was so nice seeing so many people there. Usually on TV, I would just see Snoop Dogg or T.I. in it.  I didn’t see no Roscoe though, but I did see his wings and his waffles, which I ordered with gravy.

But, let me tell you when the girl brought out the food.

The waitress, first brought out one plate with just chicken on it. Did I mention to you it was a large ass of a plate. She seem to have forgotten to put the waffles on my plate. I pushed around the gravy and I didn’t see anything. Maybe she forgot. There were a lot of people. And I, myself , would have a hard time trying to juggle all those different orders. I was just about to wave her down when the woman came back over to me with another plate. A plate with only waffles on it!

My word!!!

I, Lucresia Linton,  sat there with two oversize plates of food in front of me! I felt soo embarrassed! Embarrassed and hungry! I felt as if all eyes were on me for all the wrong reasons. I know that other people had just as much food on their table, but it was hard to tell because their plates were spread out everywhere. Mine, however, was all in one section of the table-in front of me!

I turned to one plate and had some chicken. I remembered that I was a lady and I used a fork and a spoon.  I could not bare the thought of having the gravy drip down my hands.  And since I am on a diet, I chewed in very small bites. I turned to the right and had some waffles. I chewed again. I turned back to the left and had some chicken dipped in gravy and then turned back to the right for some waffles drizzled with butter.  Then I looked on a ways yonder and realized that I forgot that she had put down some biscuits.  I felt trapped, but I had a bite of that too.

I couldn’t even eat the whole thing. Possums, I was so disappointed. I left there so upset with myself. To come to this institution of carnal food and joy and not fully indulge myself felt like a big waste. I was ashamed!  I couldn’t even look up when the waitress looked at my plates and laughed and asked if I wanted to pack up everything.  All I could think of saying was, “Hell, yah!”  The only thing that kept me going was that maybe my stomach inside got more petite. That’s got to be it. My new resized and petite stomach!

Although I was in the dumps, I did pick up a cute Michael Jackson t-shirt on my way out of the parking lot.  It has all sequins and stuff on the front of it. I had a choice of picking which, “Michael” I wanted. So, I picked the “Thriller” part. Yes, Roscoe’s you “thrilled” me too. I used the t-shirt to hide my left-over Roscoe’s because the funniest thing I noticed as I headed to my car was that I was the only person who left with a baggie.

Incroyable!

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