If you carry a bottle of ranch dressing in your purse, there’s something really wrong with you. Not the little plastic pouch they give you at fast food joints, but the bottles that you have at home. Ok, let me explain. I’m watching “True Life” on MTV, and they’re following around 3 people with weight problems. The 17-year old who eats whatever he wants cause he figures “I’m gonna have gastric bypass, so I’m not watching what I eat”, the morbidly obese woman who asks her doctor “How does someone gets so big ?” and his response which was basically “Bitch, you eat too much”. Ok, he didn’t say that, but that’s how I heard it, and the “I’m big and I’m beautiful” model who carries party sized condiments in her purse. That brings me back to my original thought. Don’t you think that the first sign of a problem is when you find things that should be in your cabinets or fridge in your purse and/or backpack ? I’m just sayin. Anyway, I’m taking my black ass to sleep.
So, Sunday rolls around and it’s time to slow it down. My boy was flying back to L.A., so we were supposed to FINALLY hook up with our girl, but again, it didn’t go down the way it was supposed to. She wanted us to jump on 2 trains, to meet her and another friend of ours for lunch, so we I said that I was gonna call her back when we were leaving, to get directions from them…but her phone wasn’t working correctly and wasn’t going to voicemail. Somehow that was our fault, cause after we finally got them on the phone, she sounded a little salty cause we hadn’t arrived yet, and decided to go to get something to eat on our own. She said she was gonna call us back in a couple minutes, but 3 weeks later, we still haven’t heard from her. Oh well. We ended up going for a couple drinks before my boy’s flight, then I went back to the hotel and shut it down for the next 2.5 days. The rest of my stay was spent seeing movies, shopping, dinners and hanging out with friends who thought enough to actually come see me and hang out for a bit. It was appreciated. In all, the trip was a success and there will be a return in the future. When do the Lakers & Raptors play this season ?
…to bring you this. I can’t get enough of it, especially the end.
uh, and another one (spotted at Crunk & Disorderly):
this shit right here made my week.
Okay, part 3 of the updates tomorrow.
So, after stumbling back to my room at about what could have been anywhere from 7-9, I’m not really sure cause at this point, I’d been up since Thursday. No more than 30 minutes after I went to sleep, my boy calls me with “Ay nigga, let’s go get something to eat”, and I’m wishing someone would put a bullet in me, cause I’m running on “E” at this point. So, after a hot “wake yo ass up” shower, I throw on some gear and we roll out. We were supposed to be hooking up with some of our people who live in Toronto, who seemed to be lacking the effort to come out and see us, even though we take care of them when they hit L.A., oh well, fuck em. Off to the mall. We hit up a few spots, grab some grub, then stroll around at this Live Earth festival going on in front of the Eaton Center. After a couple hours we decide to roll to this spot called The Brass Rail. It’s the spot where Alex Rodriguez got busted coming out of with one of the dancers about 2 months ago…if it’s good enough for A-Rod, it’s good enough for us. Now going in, we know that it’s gonna be the JV team out there, cause the quality dancers come in after 8pm, that’s pretty much standard at any titty club. FYI, if there are any dancers reading this, if you work at the club between the hours of 10am and 7pm, you need to step your game up. S’all I’m sayin. But anyway, we chop it up with the bartender, trying to find the new hot spot to hit for the night, but this dude was useless. So, one of the girls comes up trying to work her magic and get a couple lap dances out of us, but we end up getting the info we needed out of her, and before you knew it, we’re getting VIP access at some club cause her brother is the host. So, I ask her if we just tell this dude that “Berlin” sent us and she was like “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO !!!! MARIA sent you”. Instantly, we know that big bro doesn’t know his little sis is shaking her titties for paper. Before we leave, we notice the dancer who had been playing PSP at the bar next to us is now on the stage…she didn’t do shit. She just kinda paced back and forth for 2 or 3 songs, then got off stage. It’s like they forced her to go up there, because it looked like she was trying to find her car keys or a lost contact lense. We went back to the hotel for a quick nap before the nights festivities, which ended up being a damn good night. Hit up a couple clubs, crashed a wedding party and waited for our local T.O. peeps who AGAIN didn’t show up…fuck em. After a couple hours at 3 different spots, we end the night at a place called “Joe Mama’s” with a friend and some of her friends, watching this live band and shaking off the Bacardi that had been consumed since around 8pm. Another good night. Happy Birthday to me. Part 3 coming…
So, if you’ve never had the opportunity to go to Toronto, take it from your boy, it’s a good look. I’ll definitely be going back. I went to work on Thursday at 11, so I was up at around 8am….worked all day, came home and packed, then jumped on a red eye at midnight. I had an aisle seat, so I didn’t get any sleep. I ended up watching a couple episodes of “Martin” on my laptop. I get in around 7:30, get to the hotel around 8am, and since the subway station was in the building, the hotties on their way to work were everywhere so your boy caught his second wind. I was ready to roll. So, I start strolling the new neighborhood, getting the lay of the land before my boy got in. And for those of you in Toronto, how come nothing opens up at 9am like the rest of the world ? I had to wait until 11am just to get a haircut. But anyway, I head back to the hotel before I hook up with a friend for lunch around 2…which was fuckin delicious. Good food + good company = good times. We hang out for a while, then separate and make plans for later, then I hook up with my boy since his flight has come in. We roll out to learn more of the hood, then head over to Empire Lounge for a quick dinner & drinks. On the way, we stroll past the world’s worst transvestite…this fucker put no effort into his tranny-ism (Yeah, I made that shit up, tranny-ism. feel free to use it.). Basically, it was a dude with a 5 o’clock shadow, a dress and a wig on. Looked nothing like a woman, but like in “Beverly Hills Cop” when Eddie Murphy saw the 2 dudes with the Michael Jackson jackets on, we were bent over in laughter. This was gonna be a good night. We spent the rest of the evening hitting the clubs/bars in the area and waiting for some of the local peeps we know to show up…even though they never did (More on that later). Finally, at about 3am, I stumble back to my room to finally try and get some sleep, but I ended up going to bed after sunrise…It’s now Saturday.
Vacation is over, and I’m ready to get back to the blog grind. Come back tomorrow for a tale of lost friends, lack of sleep, ungodly amounts of bacardi and a lazy ass stripper. If you have nothing else to do tomorrow, come holla at ya boy.
So long, niggas.
I can’t waaaaaaaaaaaaaait to get out of this heat. 3 days from now, I’ll be back in normal temperatures. I don’t care about the humidity, anything is better than this shit. The forecast for the next week has these numbers thrown in…116, 116, 112. Do I care ? Nope, cause I’ll be sitting next to a pool with a mojito in my hand by Friday, just like these niggas.
Hopefully, I can find someone to fan me with one of those big ass feathers that the ancient Romans used…and someone to feed me frozen grapes, seedless of course. That’s what I call living.