COS I HAVE TO WRITE FRESHER
...
WHEN I WANT YOU BACK,
I'LL HAVE YOU!
Monday, 14 December 2009
Thursday, 24 September 2009
I wanna show you my new tat, but I'll show you my baby..
Yeah I lied, but he's the greatest guy in my life!
I said : 'Fam wait! The milk's even too hot for me' AND HE GOT VEX
But yeah, im auditioning for his potential wifey tomorrow!
I said : 'Fam wait! The milk's even too hot for me' AND HE GOT VEX
But yeah, im auditioning for his potential wifey tomorrow!
Friday, 21 August 2009
I FEEL LIKE THE TEACHER I USED TO HATE.
IM AN EDITOR AND IT'S HARSH.
IT'S ALMOST AS GROSS AS REVIEWING.
WHO AM I....REALLY ?!
IT'S ALMOST AS GROSS AS REVIEWING.
WHO AM I....REALLY ?!
Tuesday, 18 August 2009
Tuesday, 11 August 2009
Did you know that EBAY sell funkified flavoured lube?!
My personal fav!!
http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/Durex-Play-Pina-Colada-Intimate-Lube-50ml-Brand-New_W0QQitemZ160348712503QQcmdZViewItemQQimsxZ20090715?IMSfp=TL090715213003r22949
REAL TALKS
Im 'British' and I can’t handle British weather.
So how can African and Asian Elephants handle the LUDERCROUSY of British weather whilst flinging up their 3 billion tonne legs, whilst wearing size 16 tutus and Jordan-esque make up?
*UPSET*
*EATS HAPPY MEAL*...................
*OH BTW*
I dont think i've told you, but I think HILARY CLINTON IS ONE OF THE MOST BOOMTASTIC WOMEN EVER!
Like, she got universally played, and is STILL here! FURTHERMORE, She told her dude to fuck off for a minute, and let her touch politics. And she did-but I think Congo just didn’t know....
(Ps! my mummy says she's a lady lover really!)
So how can African and Asian Elephants handle the LUDERCROUSY of British weather whilst flinging up their 3 billion tonne legs, whilst wearing size 16 tutus and Jordan-esque make up?
*UPSET*
*EATS HAPPY MEAL*...................
*OH BTW*
I dont think i've told you, but I think HILARY CLINTON IS ONE OF THE MOST BOOMTASTIC WOMEN EVER!
Like, she got universally played, and is STILL here! FURTHERMORE, She told her dude to fuck off for a minute, and let her touch politics. And she did-but I think Congo just didn’t know....
(Ps! my mummy says she's a lady lover really!)
Sunday, 9 August 2009
I will not speak your Spanish. I got a B in GCSE German
So can SOMEONE CLOSE ENOUGH tell the 'rapper' Pitbull that I don't like him, and his forceful use of Spanish upon my ears.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Wednesday, 5 August 2009
*NICE COMBINATION*
I DUNNO WHEN WE MEET.
DUNNO HOW.
I KNOW SHE'S AN ULTIMATE FRIEND.
AND A *STRICTLY COKE* DEALER IN CAMDEN ONCE YELLED "NICE COMBINATION" AT US.
Monday, 3 August 2009
R.I.P CHARMZ...WHAT WILL DMU DO WITHOUT YOU ?
VIOLENCE I HATE. POETRY I LOVE.
So I mixed the two, got on google, and...
If you are a good man,
Then reject violence.
If you are a better man,
Then detest violence.
If you are the best man,
Then transform violence
Into the heart of oneness-love.
- Sri Chinmoy
www.poetseers.org/themes/poems_on_violence
So I mixed the two, got on google, and...
If you are a good man,
Then reject violence.
If you are a better man,
Then detest violence.
If you are the best man,
Then transform violence
Into the heart of oneness-love.
- Sri Chinmoy
www.poetseers.org/themes/poems_on_violence
Friday, 24 July 2009
Monday, 13 July 2009
My world is a PARADOX...my girls used to like c**ks...
Sorry,I just can't say that word!
But yeah.
My life has become a Ladies only** Friday night in Vauxhall.
Boys, come get your girls.
Oh, They said FIX UP first.
But yeah.
My life has become a Ladies only** Friday night in Vauxhall.
Boys, come get your girls.
Oh, They said FIX UP first.
Monday, 6 July 2009
My baby is a inside out homo and im straight trippin
Guy burnet is a BOOMTING.
I LOVE HIM.
Buuuhhhh...
Man like me was flicking through TERRESTRIAL tellie, and I saw my boomting boy dressed as a broad!
Someone explain...
(Skip to bout a minute in)
I LOVE HIM.
Buuuhhhh...
Man like me was flicking through TERRESTRIAL tellie, and I saw my boomting boy dressed as a broad!
Someone explain...
(Skip to bout a minute in)
Tuesday, 30 June 2009
Windows Internet Explorer (Not Responding)
I think it was for the best. The internet gods don't want to be the pathway for reminded confusion.
Monday, 22 June 2009
Monday, 8 June 2009
Monday, 1 June 2009
Oh how he does this...
D
I googled 'Haiku' poems, wrote him one and he:
Copied, then pasted it onto Word.
Fancified it.
Printed it out.
Put it in a frame (picture got dashed for me..sowry mumsie)
Took a pic of it.
And posted it on Facebook AND txt me as proof.
I love that guy...
He's the guy...the only guy.
I googled 'Haiku' poems, wrote him one and he:
Copied, then pasted it onto Word.
Fancified it.
Printed it out.
Put it in a frame (picture got dashed for me..sowry mumsie)
Took a pic of it.
And posted it on Facebook AND txt me as proof.
I love that guy...
He's the guy...the only guy.
Tuesday, 26 May 2009
She a mooody bitch...
*She's a high flyer, a high flyer with not even pennies to spare... so I close my eyes and recite the words: I cannot care*
(Naame)
(Naame)
Monday, 18 May 2009
STABLE- 18 steps back-22 millions steps forward.
Leicester... LESTA... LE1 - Whatever you wanna call it is NONSENSE when it comes to signal.
September 22nd 2008: After 4 hours of confinement,some sloppy Burger King and an unresponsive car journey with my father,I reached my halls. Forget making friends, my Freeview was what I was looking to set up.
It was NOT happening.
So I went downstairs and said 'Wa gwan to the signal?'(If you know me,that's exactly how I speak) and the lady went:
"Oh,well, you probably won't receive signal-the midlands isn't very good at receiving signal"
*SHOCK FACE. JAW DROP. MENTALLY SLAPPED. DISGUST*
Firstly,I didn't understand what the hell she was talking about when she said 'Midlands', and secondly: I was brought up on Sky, Freeview and before these creations: CABLE!! (The one where Cartoon Network would change to TNT movies and Trouble would become some Porno fest after 10) AND I STILL DID WELL IN SCHOOL.
And now,8 months on (Without a TV- All or nothing kinda girl), I've prevailed...I'M GOING HOME...to the BETTER LIFE...this life...
ELATION.
*Also, all this talk with signal got me thinking: Phone companies such T(hief) Mobile, Orange and Vodafone (If that's still around) actually charge you to use AIRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!*
Corruption.
September 22nd 2008: After 4 hours of confinement,some sloppy Burger King and an unresponsive car journey with my father,I reached my halls. Forget making friends, my Freeview was what I was looking to set up.
It was NOT happening.
So I went downstairs and said 'Wa gwan to the signal?'(If you know me,that's exactly how I speak) and the lady went:
"Oh,well, you probably won't receive signal-the midlands isn't very good at receiving signal"
*SHOCK FACE. JAW DROP. MENTALLY SLAPPED. DISGUST*
Firstly,I didn't understand what the hell she was talking about when she said 'Midlands', and secondly: I was brought up on Sky, Freeview and before these creations: CABLE!! (The one where Cartoon Network would change to TNT movies and Trouble would become some Porno fest after 10) AND I STILL DID WELL IN SCHOOL.
And now,8 months on (Without a TV- All or nothing kinda girl), I've prevailed...I'M GOING HOME...to the BETTER LIFE...this life...
ELATION.
*Also, all this talk with signal got me thinking: Phone companies such T(hief) Mobile, Orange and Vodafone (If that's still around) actually charge you to use AIRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!*
Corruption.
Sunday, 17 May 2009
Friday, 15 May 2009
Emo times a-calling...
*Sighs*
Albeit this is my blog, but today I WON’T divulge my OWN self into it.
BUT... I will say, feelings of this ....
are all around me lately.
(Domino effect?)Wednesday, 13 May 2009
Triggered by Anj (Yes, i took our friendship there- Ha!)
*I dance in rainbow circles-
Comfortably ...and then black lines blur me.
But innately,
And almost contently...
Colour dominates that part of me.*
Comfortably ...and then black lines blur me.
But innately,
And almost contently...
Colour dominates that part of me.*
Wednesday, 6 May 2009
Lessons in being a RASSCLART G. by Sandra Dee
Meet my mate Sandra 'Sarnge- Im a RASSCLART G 'Awuah.
I love her because we're from totally different ends of the spectrum, but we work.
I was raised in a four bedroom house; sheltered from danger and Black people, and Sandra was raised, in her own words, in a two bedroom flat on a shitty council estate, surrounded by drugs and violence. Friends.
I've always known of Sandra's RASSCLART G status, but It wasn't until she managed to, after not turning up to work for three weeks without giving notice, somehow managed to get a manager who solely does NOT RATE HER to extend her contract untill she gets back in September, whilst I sit here, trying to make this cracker and jam last longer. Her RASSCLART G status at 6.38 pm: CONFIRMED.
I love her because she NEVER turns up to work, and STILL manages to get a lil £20 thrown in her paypacket.
RASSCLART G.
And with her , It's all about 'BINGS... BANGS!!... CRASH! PING!! PARRRRRRRR!!!...IMMA...' .
RASSCLART G!
So for the next two weeks, this woman
Is gonna teach me: Nadia BROBBEY
to be...
A RASSCLART G!
I love her because we're from totally different ends of the spectrum, but we work.
I was raised in a four bedroom house; sheltered from danger and Black people, and Sandra was raised, in her own words, in a two bedroom flat on a shitty council estate, surrounded by drugs and violence. Friends.
I've always known of Sandra's RASSCLART G status, but It wasn't until she managed to, after not turning up to work for three weeks without giving notice, somehow managed to get a manager who solely does NOT RATE HER to extend her contract untill she gets back in September, whilst I sit here, trying to make this cracker and jam last longer. Her RASSCLART G status at 6.38 pm: CONFIRMED.
I love her because she NEVER turns up to work, and STILL manages to get a lil £20 thrown in her paypacket.
RASSCLART G.
And with her , It's all about 'BINGS... BANGS!!... CRASH! PING!! PARRRRRRRR!!!...IMMA...' .
RASSCLART G!
So for the next two weeks, this woman
Is gonna teach me: Nadia BROBBEY
to be...
A RASSCLART G!
Monday, 4 May 2009
Sir, you are so pretty and your wife is SOOO handsome
Little old me....locked away in the cage of education....
My head is now distorted; ALOT of the people I want...
HAVE NO REAL TALENT...
So then I ....
And even...
But for those who know...
THAT JUST WON'T WORK!
I think cupid is calling for me to....
(I know what you're thinking,but sometimes with her it's....HARD TO TELL!)
*Sighs* If only the Ciara rumours had been true...
I COULD HAVE HAD IT ALL!!!!!
Tuesday, 28 April 2009
Broken door- Invaded life.
Apart from the obvious pain, the most devastating thing about my mother’s illness is its arrogance.
Her illness is everywhere. Waltzing into lives, the illness sets up camp and sits comfortably. Not only does it destroy you physically, but mentally and emotionally. Its arrogance stems far, and not only gets to the sufferer, but to those around.
It’s not like others. Some illnesses have sympathy. Albeit they are there, but there’s indication that the illness is urging the sufferer to fight back. Medicines and other forms of relief help to banish the illness, and you note that time in your life as an event, not as a killer, like my mother’s illness.
It plays horrific games with you. It challenges you to the surgical table, rounds of biopsies and the ultimate challenge of life. It deceives you. It plays along with you. You step up to the challenge and tests show in your favour. You attempt to move on, but obviously won’t forget. Slowly your life becomes less about the therapy and the hospital visits, and more about holidays and fun nights out. But when you’re sitting down, the illness comes knocking at your door. The illness has returned.
My mother’s illness sadistically sneers when comes with friends. It comes along with its friends Liver failure and internal shutdown and you just have no more. You can’t shut the door because the arrogance of the illness has it firmly open.
The illness and its allies take lives. They take the lives of the sufferer and those around. And even if you don’t physically die, the illness has killed apart of you.
“Physical ills are the taxes laid upon this wretched life; some are taxed higher, and some lower, but all pay something.” ~Lord Chesterfield
Her illness is everywhere. Waltzing into lives, the illness sets up camp and sits comfortably. Not only does it destroy you physically, but mentally and emotionally. Its arrogance stems far, and not only gets to the sufferer, but to those around.
It’s not like others. Some illnesses have sympathy. Albeit they are there, but there’s indication that the illness is urging the sufferer to fight back. Medicines and other forms of relief help to banish the illness, and you note that time in your life as an event, not as a killer, like my mother’s illness.
It plays horrific games with you. It challenges you to the surgical table, rounds of biopsies and the ultimate challenge of life. It deceives you. It plays along with you. You step up to the challenge and tests show in your favour. You attempt to move on, but obviously won’t forget. Slowly your life becomes less about the therapy and the hospital visits, and more about holidays and fun nights out. But when you’re sitting down, the illness comes knocking at your door. The illness has returned.
My mother’s illness sadistically sneers when comes with friends. It comes along with its friends Liver failure and internal shutdown and you just have no more. You can’t shut the door because the arrogance of the illness has it firmly open.
The illness and its allies take lives. They take the lives of the sufferer and those around. And even if you don’t physically die, the illness has killed apart of you.
“Physical ills are the taxes laid upon this wretched life; some are taxed higher, and some lower, but all pay something.” ~Lord Chesterfield
Wednesday, 15 April 2009
Some poems are better read aloud; this Is one of them. None the less, this is my 'better read aloud' poem
This is the poison that you know you’re taking, touring around this unholy world.
In the pretend surreal, we welcome the drinks and leave the honesty.
Internal cries of suppressed emotions battle the make believe- Look at me...I’m so unhappy.
With his arrogant arm slapped across my naked shoulder, the good world has past and this-is-my life.
Slide the drinks; take a pic, if I took my pick I know I wouldn’t be here. But I’m here.
And I’m just sitting here. What am I actually doing here?
She comes over and taps my shoulder “Are you ok?”
“Yeah yeah, I’m fi- ‘’ -
She brushes me off because he brushed her thigh; so I close my tainted eyes and remain in this unholy world. I said this isn’t a- good life!
Girls going up and down, fanning themselves with the blouse they just took off. I’m not them, but we simultaneously gleam the dispirited emotion slowly killing us on the inside.
I hear Donaeo. I shouldn’t be here.
I shouldn’t be here because books of ‘How to survive uni’ sit dustily on top of my desk.
You know what sits on top of that? My worries.
And you know what sits on top of that? My mother’s concern.
I’ve come to uni, and what have I actually learnt...
I’ve learnt to skank.
In the pretend surreal, we welcome the drinks and leave the honesty.
Internal cries of suppressed emotions battle the make believe- Look at me...I’m so unhappy.
With his arrogant arm slapped across my naked shoulder, the good world has past and this-is-my life.
Slide the drinks; take a pic, if I took my pick I know I wouldn’t be here. But I’m here.
And I’m just sitting here. What am I actually doing here?
She comes over and taps my shoulder “Are you ok?”
“Yeah yeah, I’m fi- ‘’ -
She brushes me off because he brushed her thigh; so I close my tainted eyes and remain in this unholy world. I said this isn’t a- good life!
Girls going up and down, fanning themselves with the blouse they just took off. I’m not them, but we simultaneously gleam the dispirited emotion slowly killing us on the inside.
I hear Donaeo. I shouldn’t be here.
I shouldn’t be here because books of ‘How to survive uni’ sit dustily on top of my desk.
You know what sits on top of that? My worries.
And you know what sits on top of that? My mother’s concern.
I’ve come to uni, and what have I actually learnt...
I’ve learnt to skank.
Tuesday, 10 March 2009
Careless deep feelings
"I’ve taken the ‘typical’ route of education because I’m too scared to have a demon-esque boss screw up my work, and tell me to go and get a degree.
So I’m getting the degree first, and then they can just screw up my work."
Nadia
So I’m getting the degree first, and then they can just screw up my work."
Nadia
Monday, 2 March 2009
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
Saturday, 21 February 2009
Devil wears Prada...with a black girl as the lead
A couple years ago I was fortunate to get the chance to work for a giant advertising company (I wont say the name because i don't want to get sued- Actually, what can they take from me ? My student loan...all £5.81 that's left!)
But yes, I wrote an account about my time there, i'll leave it upto you to decide whether or not I 'enjoyed' myself. I will say this, my time there was...memorable.
Day one
8.30 am
I’m lost in my own city; the land of city folk. The land where people take taxis only wait in traffic, and then willingly pay an extortionate price for a journey that could have been completed within two minutes of walking. City workers: they’re supposed to be smart.
8.50 am
I’m still lost and my hair has become defiantly untameable. Earlier I attempted to slick it back, but then I looked a boy and I didn’t want any confusion. This is the media world; I know they won’t remember my name, but not to remember my gender would be the ultimate shame.
9.45 am
As I finally approach the glossy tower of the company, I see the reflection of the receptionist through my own reflection. And despite her obvious expressed belief that I must be lost, I enter with poise; in full knowledge that her hair clip almost certainly costs more than my whole outfit.
Day three
2.30 pm
Three days in and I hate it. I hate that the stereotypes are true. The wealthy women that stroll around the office and occasionally sit at their desks, only to throw their nonsense babble across the room. And the gaunt looking women that opt to spend their lunch break jogging around central London. It’s central London, where’s the space?
Day four
12.25 pm
This experience has made me realise that we do weird and not so wonderful things for our passions. I dream of this world. Creating something from nothing and having it projected to the world, but here I am, in a lift, holding a box of photographers’ photos...of themselves!
A woman enters the lift and startles as she sees me. Never the less, she says thank you for pressing the button. She’s wearing a purposely ruffed ACDC t-shirt with jeans that look like ones that I own; only £200 more. She unexpectedly asks me where I live, and I reply. She makes a sound with her mouth whilst brushing the top of her lip with her tongue. She then replies with “I went to school with Sienna Miller!”
3.40 pm
Three hours after our encounter, she walks into the office with cupcakes from her local bakery in Knightsbridge, and proclaims “Enjoy!” But in the media world, that means “Go ahead-if you want to become exceedingly fat and lose your status in the West London world!” I decide not to take one because I feel that I’m not fully immersed into the team. So I remain at my desk and contemplate whether that’s a good thing.
Day five
5.30 pm
So on an uncelebrated Friday evening in June, I leave their city life, and returned to my own city life.
But yes, I wrote an account about my time there, i'll leave it upto you to decide whether or not I 'enjoyed' myself. I will say this, my time there was...memorable.
Day one
8.30 am
I’m lost in my own city; the land of city folk. The land where people take taxis only wait in traffic, and then willingly pay an extortionate price for a journey that could have been completed within two minutes of walking. City workers: they’re supposed to be smart.
8.50 am
I’m still lost and my hair has become defiantly untameable. Earlier I attempted to slick it back, but then I looked a boy and I didn’t want any confusion. This is the media world; I know they won’t remember my name, but not to remember my gender would be the ultimate shame.
9.45 am
As I finally approach the glossy tower of the company, I see the reflection of the receptionist through my own reflection. And despite her obvious expressed belief that I must be lost, I enter with poise; in full knowledge that her hair clip almost certainly costs more than my whole outfit.
Day three
2.30 pm
Three days in and I hate it. I hate that the stereotypes are true. The wealthy women that stroll around the office and occasionally sit at their desks, only to throw their nonsense babble across the room. And the gaunt looking women that opt to spend their lunch break jogging around central London. It’s central London, where’s the space?
Day four
12.25 pm
This experience has made me realise that we do weird and not so wonderful things for our passions. I dream of this world. Creating something from nothing and having it projected to the world, but here I am, in a lift, holding a box of photographers’ photos...of themselves!
A woman enters the lift and startles as she sees me. Never the less, she says thank you for pressing the button. She’s wearing a purposely ruffed ACDC t-shirt with jeans that look like ones that I own; only £200 more. She unexpectedly asks me where I live, and I reply. She makes a sound with her mouth whilst brushing the top of her lip with her tongue. She then replies with “I went to school with Sienna Miller!”
3.40 pm
Three hours after our encounter, she walks into the office with cupcakes from her local bakery in Knightsbridge, and proclaims “Enjoy!” But in the media world, that means “Go ahead-if you want to become exceedingly fat and lose your status in the West London world!” I decide not to take one because I feel that I’m not fully immersed into the team. So I remain at my desk and contemplate whether that’s a good thing.
Day five
5.30 pm
So on an uncelebrated Friday evening in June, I leave their city life, and returned to my own city life.
Friday, 20 February 2009
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