Just Another Girl On The IRT

Freestyle musings from a pseudo-intellectual hellcat in high heels with Huxtable aspirations in a ghetto fab world. Proudly sponsored by bouts of bitchy mood swings, one too many swigs of Turning Leaf, the letters F & U and the madness that is the Rotten Apple.

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Location: Brooklyn, New York, United States

Work in progress. Neurotic. Daydream believer. Bookworm. Addicted to the arts. Stubborn. Spoiled rotten. Lefty in more ways than one. Pop culture whore. Equal opportunity hater. Kid at heart.

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Thursday, August 04, 2005

Flame-broiled isn't just for Whoppers anymore

On days like today, I wish I could give Mother Nature a day off to have it my way. It's fucking sweltering. I hate this shit. Never been a fan of the extreme summer heat so I'm not a happy camper at the moment. Lemme take a quick glance at my WeatherBug which I compulsively stare all day long to use as an excuse to avoid leaving the comfort of my air conditioned office building. 95°. My goddamn bra's feeling greasier than Jermaine Jackson and I'm tempted to stick my head in the lobby café's soft drink cooler. The notion that Black folks luuuuuuhve them some hot weather? Fuck that. Page me when October rolls around.


link | Shot from the lip by TriniPrincess at 3:27 PM |


2 Comments:
Blogger Michael commented at 8/04/2005 05:54:00 PM~  

It could be worse. You could be dealing with the humidity in Houston. Shoot. Just typing that made me sweat and gave me the sudden urge to run to someone's car to put the A/C on full blast.

Blogger TriniPrincess commented at 8/04/2005 06:02:00 PM~  

Now you KNOW I'm not cut out for that dry ass Lone Star air. It's amazing you didn't lose your marbles growing up in the constant grill of Texas summers. I'm not worthy to complain... but I'm gonna anyways. LOL

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