P.M.S - Pray to God, Move Out the Way, Step the Fuck Off!

Intro:

I wrote this little ditty a few weeks ago. Today, I can’t say that I feel much different. The following is somewhat mild (trust me, I being blowing my stack on peeps.) I’ve calmed down over the years. I don’t clown nearly as hard as I use to. But still. Watch your mouth around me, yo. Be careful what you say - especially when uterus is gearing up for several days of war. Them raging hormones have me feeling like I want to stab a mf’rs face off and then grab a box of tissue so I can mourn their death all at once.

Truth is, I aint got the gusto to do neither, because I’m too broken down (to bone gristle) with aches, pains and fatigue and shit.

Then again, you just never know, I just might muster up enough strength to lay hellafied the smack down on that ass. So play your cards right. *wink*

But anyhoo,

May 1st, 2008

Aunt Dot is in effect and she’s coming with a bloody vengeance. My only relief is long hot soaks in the tub, eating like a maniac and those good 800mg ibuprofens prescribed by my gynecologist (She’s a gem, she is). This past weekend I cussed out the closest thing I have to “significant other” because he told me to “ease up” on my retro-styled patterned clothing.

Now ya’ll know unless your name is Karl Lagerfeld or the illustrious Diane von Furstenberg, the Saucy Dame Dizzle doesn’t take unsolicited fashion advice from NOBODY. Understand?

As a matter of fact, unsolicited advice on my behalf, in any given category, makes me want to go against the advice givers grain that much MORE…because I’m pissy like that. If I need tips on fashion or any other topic, I’ll be sure seek feedback from the appropriate source. It’s not that I don’t respect the opinions of others; I just don’t need to hear from peanut gallery. All of that extra “jibba-jabba”.

Like Badu say, “The world is mine, when I wake up. I don’t nobody tellin’ the time.”

Yet another reason why I am mostly single. Depending on the day, dealing with me is like finding yourself in 1967 production of the Shakespearean comedy classic, “The Taming Of The Shrew”. And I’m Elizabeth Taylor in this bitch.

Whoo! When Aunt Dot comes, oh brother/
It’s like five Bloody Mary’s, one after another/
Hmmph, she have you stressed/ no wearin white/ no sex
And when she get vexed, you guess what happens next… - Lil Kim

But I’m sure some of my friends think of it as more like this:

And to that I would have to say, “MAYBE SO”. Perhaps I’m just a beyooootch. But ask me do I give a damn?