Today she told me that she's leaving me...

Man, I've been seeing this broad on the side for about 4 phuckin' years. I mean she and i have a history together and whatnot. Sure i didn't take her out or show her shit, i just got what i got from her and left her the same way she was when i showed up.

Sometimes I'd sneak away from work to see this b*tch and now she wants to drop the bomb on me and tell me that she's got something more phuckin' promising. I shoulda choked the shit out of her.

When my son's mom was in the hospital giving birth to mini-me, she was the first person i saw when i left the maternity ward.

I remember when i first met her...i wasn't even thinkin' this was gonna be a long term ordeal. I figured I'd get the good-good from her once or twice and bounce...but damn she had the good-good f'real and i saw her almost daily for what had to be month after the very first occurrence.

And when shit got tired and mundane...she'd ask me if i wanted to add some flavor to our relationship. I was a little hesitant @ first but she kept asking and was persistent to get me to open my mind a little. I remember when she first added whip creme to the mix. This broad had me nervous like a virgin on prom night but the very moment i put my tongue on the rim and tasted that whip creme, i knew that she was a pro at this shit.

I am almost ashamed to tell y'all that she's an out of shape white woman but she is and i'm convinced there's not a woman of another race that could treat me better. There's been times where i needed that wet-wet before work and because she was good at what she does, i didn't mind being late to work....

but now, she's decided to move on and not even think that my feelings might be involved. I really want to wish her the best but my own selfish desires, needs and wants wish that she'd just stay put and continue allowing me to tip her for her services.

I'm going to miss you Sabrina.







You're the best Starbucks Barista in the world...who's going to make my Venti Soy Decalf Toffee Nut latte now?


*another self plagarized post...i originally posted this on OKP.com*

Adulthood...

Adulthood :The road less travelled but according to google...it exists.

I remember there was once a time that I both feared and anticipated the journey into adulthood. I wanted the social freedom that was associated with being ''grown'' but at the same time I didn't want the adult responsibilities that being a ''grown up'' carried (i.e., paying bills, going to work and just being responsible altogether). Foolishly I once imagined that all it took to be an adult was the physical act of moving out of my childhood home and getting a decent job. Ha!, that should have been deemed the final act of childhood and not the first forage into manhood..but alas, I had no guidance and no one to tell me the true measurements/standards of being an adult. There's no rules or requirements because no one knows when they truly become adult-like. Rules like that don't exist or at least they're not recorded for the likes of me (and possibly you) to follow. I mean one can't become an adult until they've fucked up various aspects of their (and possibly others) lives. Yes, I said it. One does not become an adult until they've had a few ego damaging fuck ups under their belts. And lo' and behold, I, kae Williams has more than plenty (eff'ups) to testify about. Those eff'ups are not to be mentioned at this time for brevity's sakes but I will elude that dropping out of college in my senior year was a major faux pas but I've managed thus far to survive and provide. (Catastrophe diverted)

Where am I going with all of this you may ask?...well take a journey with me and I'll take you to the very moment of me hitting each keystroke on this here PDA phone of mine. (gotta love technology)....my true measurement of adulthood isn't how many bills you pay, nor how independent you seem to be...Today, I managed to measure how grown I was by my ability to walk into a bar that I've never been to and just post up and interact with the regulars (of which I might just become @ this establishment).

So yes y'all adulthood isn't about age or responsibility but rather your ability to press ahead and get drunk around muhphuckas © Bernie Mac (R.I.P) you don't know.

~fin

*sad weekend—We lost both Bernie Mac and Isaac Hayes....sh*t, damn, muhphucka © D'Angelo

BLAST FROM THE PAST

Today's entry was plagiarized from one of my old blogs...I found the subject fitting considering that I had unannounced house guests this past weekend at the GreasyMansion.

Make you 'self at home….(when you get home)

Ahh, House guests, company, and the likes. One really doesn’t know the inviolability of their home until others come and invade their space. This past weekend my girl and I welcomed members of her family into our home for the weekend. (well I really didn’t do much “welcoming” but since we share a home and I knew I’d be able to use this as leverage in a later argument, I just let it occur without much of a squabble).

It should be written law that anyone who stays in the house of another for a period of 3 days (72 hrs) or more should have to pay a utility or something. My grandmother used to say that both company and fish begin to stink after 3 days and I believe that she is more than right on the matter. By the second day, the homeowner is a wits end trying to accommodate the needs of their houseguest. It’s almost as if you’re a prisoner to the people you’ve invited into your home.

All of that “ can I get’cha anything” has relatively gone to sh*t by the 36th hour of their visit. You’ve realized by that time that the air conditioner hasn’t stopped running in 34 hours because of the additional body heat. You also realize that you’ve suddenly gone from consuming name brand soda’s like Coke and Pepsi to some generic off the wall brand called DR.Thunder and some other label that’s red and white that simply says “cola” along the front. I’m still in an uproar because one of this weekend’s guest had the audacity to consume my ginger ale…Anyone that knows me is aware that I’ve cut out all caffeine from my diet and ginger ale is my carbonated beverage of choice. Needless to say that by the time I articulated my frustrations about my stolen ginger ale, my voice was hoarse and parched from both dehydration and yelling.

If any of you ever decide to have house guests you may as well make sure that they don’t have children older than 16 years old. One of our houseguest this weekend was 17 years old and didn’t have the mindset for much of anything. Now don’t get me wrong I love my lil’ uninformed brethren to all extent and I make it a personal goal to spread a lil’ bit of my ignorant knowledge to each and everyone of them but some of these lil’ muhphuckas can’t be or don’t want to be saved. Simply put, I can throw you a life preserver but dammit I can’t make you grab hold of it. Overall, I’d like to believe that i’m one of the biggest rap fans of all time (well in my opinion) but trying to tell a 17 year old black male that there’s more to life than Cassidy, Busta Rhymes and whoever else is chart topping at the moment is rather difficult. * I pray that I wasn’t of the same rhyme spitting image of youth that reared itself in my abode this weekend. * But nevertheless, Christopher Wallace damaged modern day thinking by saying that you either “rap/sell rocks/ or you have a wicked jumpshot” to get out the hood. Too many of our youth really believe this. I bet you lil’ dude couldn’t even tell me any of the current events that are plaguing our country at the moment but he can recite every top 40 Hip Hop hit.

And then next youhave that one houseguest from hell that knows everything in the world except that they could’ve stayed in a hotel. I don’t care if you’ve been going to church since Noah docked on dry land….that don’t make you any more Christian than moi? I don’t care if you stopped smokin’ in the summer of 1942, you’re not as healthy as I am. (I don’t eat meat nor smoke). I don’t give a rats ass that you think Binladen is working down the street at the Panamanian Meat Patty processing plant..if the FBI/CIA ain’t busted the joint’s door down, your words are mere fodder to the humor recepticles in my mind.

Lastly, If I’m forced to give up my precious living room NBA FINAL PLAYOFF sofa position so that y’all can chuckle and kee-hee about shit of lil’ importance, it’s time for y’all to take your stank,broke asses home….

**shows y’all the door. **