My mother loves Antoine more than me.

So you know how my mom is gangsta, right?
(If you don't, check out the post on her love of Ludacris)
Well, clearly I thought Antoine Dodson (my gay icon) would appeal to her greatly, and when she came over Tuesday and told me she'd never heard of it, I rushed to bring my laptop to her. By the end of the night, she was walking up to bed singing "run and tell dat, run and tell dat, homeboy...."
She was hooked on the Dodson!

I've never thought my mother and I had much in common, but it would seem the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. This morning, I was awoken by a phone call from madukes. I was still groggy and didn't pick up, but she's not a quitter--her missed call was quickly followed by a text message. It read:
"Turn 2 channel 4 run tell dat"

Oh god, did my mother learn how to text from one of her teen-mom clients in the family court? Of course, much in the way she can decipher my grandmother's ramblings, I knew immediately what she meant--Antoine Dodson was on The Today Show.
I laughed and rolled over, marveling at how quickly I created a monster.

When I rolled in to work at 9:05 (child, I am so done with this place) my phone was already ringing--it was madukes! I had to at least try to look productive, so I let it go to voicemail. Later, I heard the following message:

"Hey, it's me. Did you get my text this morning? Antoine was on the Today Show this morning, and he was looking good. I guess he was just caught out on a bad hair day when they tried to rape his sister, cause he had his blow out working and, like, a two-layer shag happening. And he was very articulate. He's gonna have a reality show in a minute, I swear... So, okay, that's all. I just wanted to run tell dat [laughs]. Love you. Bye." *click*

I swear to god, this woman never ceases to surprise me. She loves Luda, she's down with Antoine, and she totally said he was articulate in a really shocked tone of voice. Working with abused and neglected kids in family court, madukes knows her own personal Antoines, and I think his story's touched her, like it's touched so many others--including this fool:


THIS HAS GONE TOO FAR!!!
Antoine is taking over people's minds! He's acting as a totem--he's reminding us all to hide yo' husbands, cause they rapin' e'erybody out there!!

I wonder if this is my mom's arm. I wouldnt' put it past her, seeing as I came home from a college visit my junior year of high school to find that she shaved her head, and came home during winter break my sophomore year to see she'd gotten a tattoo on her shoulder. Homegirl is super random.

No, that forearm's not hers--it's way too beefy and light. Whew!

Workaday World

Blacktress' Log, Star Date 11 December 2008.

Last night I had dreams of pouring jager bombs and saw cold, barely sanitary steel when I closed my eyes.

So, turns out the illness I've been fighting is a sinus infection, and I had the good fortune of being able to go to the doctor and get medicated yesterday before going to work. I'm now officially on an antibiotics regimen, but this didn't make the 6-hour shift go by any faster, or stop my nose from running as I leaned in to decipher people's drink orders.

It also didn't help the wave of nausea that passed through me when hearing the following requests:
Vodka with water
Shot of jaeger with tabasco sauce

So, as I mentioned before, my coworkers are very friendly....however, they are also out of control, which puts a limit on the time I can spend with them. For instance, when one of the managers said, "Yeah, that sweater says 'rape victim'" I didn't quite know how to respond. In fact, he's really into making jokes about rape--especially raping the female staff--and I didn't think this was something we could joke about. The other girls at work seem to find it funny, so maybe I should just ride this new wave of "shock comedy" and see what comes of it. Does this means AIDS is officially comedic fodder? What about the Holocaust? Can I go there?

As I said in my previous post, this past Sunday I attempted to bond with them by going to the house party they were throwing. Almost all of my coworkers live together, 4 to a room in a 2-bedroom apartment about 3 blocks away from the bar. I can't imagine what the wait for the bathroom is like, or how anyone gets their freak on, but they seem to be fine with it. To paint a picture of who I roll with in the workplace, here are some...well, pictures:


This is D. He is very nice. Sometimes I think he is high when he is not. As the party progressed, the box of wine he's holding became a fashionable headpiece. As for what's written across his torso--"I'm a WALES, LIKE!!"
I don't know what that means.



This is C. She is 18, has a pierced tongue, and I love when she calls a customer "Right Cunty"--not to their face, of course.



This is someone's ass. That is a tattoo on their ass. It says "I'M DRUNK."

I could go on, but I have to go blow my nose.