Who's The BOSS?!

No, I’m not talking Tony Micelli hittin’ that frosted haired white lady with the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell son and old hoochay ass mama up in Fairfield, CT. (80's babies: STAND UP!)

Step to the New Millenium.
Follow me nah if you wan’ get on!


Myspace is a mess, right?

Not only because of the pathetic state of hypnosis I’m in whenever I’m on it, which is usually from the MOMENT I step into my sorry ass workplace till the moment I leave (always 5-18 minutes early, too, succckkkkaaaaazzzz!!!!)
And of course it has nothing to do with me waking in the middle of the night to pee-pee, but first taking a moment to grab my phone off the charger in order to check my messages and comments...WHILE I’m on the shitter. **embarrassed face**
But because, like the ‘Net and the suicide cult that is now the Army, it gives folks the opportunity to be ALL they can be. Even if and WHEN that “all” is not WHO they be!

Riddle me this:
What’s the allure with the word ‘Hate’ on Da Spacer?
Everybody and they black-lipped, waterfall drawstring ponytail-wearin mamas have haters all of a sudden.
But not me! OH NO! I am a hater-free American.
And there’s an elementarily simplistic reason as to why: Cuz ain't NOOOObody checkin for a 67 cents an hour gig or to be so far in debt, homeless people assure me it’s gonna be aw’ight while handing me spare change and canned goods…and then walking off laughing and pointing.

(BASTARDS! **tears**)

I just want to know how and where does one acquire haters? Is there a Hate-Mart? Hate Depot? Haters R Us? McHater’s? Hate-In-The-Box? Haters Hut? HateSpace? WHAT?!?!?!

Are there just haters lying in hater-wait to hate on somebody? Should I not walk down the street wearing ‘Hater’ as I might be involved in a drive-by hateration?
OR...
Are haters really people who KNOW yo triflin' azz can do WAY better and have no problem expressing the fact? Could haters be the folks telling you to stand yo azz in the mirror (WITHOUT being dressed (or undressed) to impress with a camera phone or digicam in hand for a gatdayumed change!) long enough to take a good look at what’s REALLY going on and see if there is room for improvement?

Guess the bigger question would be:
How does someone who has close to NOTHING to hate on or be proud of have a hater in the first place?
OR
Be 'BOSSY'?!?!?

Doesn’t it take a JAY OH BEE with subordinates to be a BOSS? Sittin on ya ass collecting welfare and EBT a BOSS doth not maketh!!!! If you don’t collect steady income from it, it’s NOT employment. Taking and posting pictures you took of yourself in the bathroom of the person’s house you’re staying with for the time being, updating your Spacer profile, and obtaining new friends CANNOT be claimed on taxes, deary. Ain't no 1040-EZ for that, pimpin!

If I hear one more ninja who I KNOOOWWW is sleeping perpendicular at the foot of his grandma and grandpa’s bed, sleepin' under the afghan Granny made back when The Flip Wilson Show was still the hotness cuz he can't get his OWN shit since he done fucked up his life by going in and outta jail so many times he has a Frequent Felon Punch Card, I PROMISE I'mma walk into the nearest nursing home and go BANANAS on Gertrude, Ethel and Herbert! There's gonna be Jell-O, Depends, support hose, and the inevitable smell of impending death flying ERR'where!

GRRRR!!!


What's 'BOSSY' about livin' on the County? It's like being proud of washing ya face with a SHIT-STAINED Bounty!

If I hear another HOMELESS, living from place to place, non-High School-graduatin' welfare ho talking about how much of a BOSS she is and how bitches want to be like her while sitting at home switchin up her profile on Da Spacer from sun up till the next dayum sun up collecting GOVERNMENT FUNDS I’mma start puttin’ folks on BLIZZAST. Don’t forget how I work for the Welfare Dept! I know who the higher ups are! I know folks in Fraud and Integrity! I’ll be on a recon mission QUICK to gather evidence to expose how you’re spending money on flat irons, digital cameras, and Jordana lipliners instead of making a QUALITY life for your little crumbsnatchers!

Ladies and Gents: The following are REAL-LIFE examples of ‘hate’ that BAFFLE me because I don’t understand the basis haters would have to practice their “art” on these people.
The following two are REAL-LIFE stories of **rolling eyes while making air quotation marks** "Bosses."
So if you recognize yourself in these posts…you know I luuuuuhhh yo’ triflin’ azz! I only do it cuz I care like Bear!

There’s a girl I know who could be posted up in Merriam Webster’s as the poster bird for the word ‘Chickenhead’: A NUCLEAR, FRENCH FRY OIL HOT, GHETTO, IG’NIT mess! Hairstyles and colors obviously sponsored by KFC and Kool-AID, wardrobe brought to you by slaving Thai children in conjunction with your local indoor swap meet (or flea market, depending on where you rest yo naps) and makeup done by New York’s new governor while riding down a cobblestone road on the back of a Moped helmed by Muhammad Ali.. Biatch works a minimum wage job, STILL lives at home, and is a frequent (**cougheverydaycough**) public transpo rider. Just basically your everyday RAT.
Weekly, this bird is clucking about someone hating on her. How bitches may try, but can't measure up to her "level." How she can take SOMEBODY’s man, how many ninjas she got and this and that. BWOK! BWOK! Muddasuckin BWOK!

My SavvyFatty Folks…I BEGGETH thee to tell ya girl:
Is this a recipe for hateration?!?!! Am I doing something wrong in my life since I'm not dripping with envy over this ho? Am I outta the loop? Is 'Chicken' the new black?


Now onto "BOSS."
**more air quotations and eyes rolling like dice in my dome**
Remember earlier how I said being a 'BOSS' entails a JOB and subordinates?
OH NO! Not to this fuckhead ninj I know. Apparently you CAAAANN be a boss WITHOUT gainful employment while still sleeping in the same bed where you used to drown your E.T. sheets in piss and J/O to the centerfold of The Good Girls in Black Beat magazine.
NUHCHIN says "BOSS" like borrowing your mom and grandma's cars, while actin like you got "options" when it comes to the wheels. Yeah, ain't shit like rollin' through Southeast in a brown 1987 Chevy Celebrity with a license plate cover that reads: "Happiness is being a Grandma."
Not a DAYUM thang screams "Bossy McBosserstein" like bein in the club, trickin drinks on hoes with BORROWED money while the ninjas who loaned you the dough in the first place glare at you from across the dancefloor, sober as fuck, cuz they fucked up and spotted your broke ass some change and now they can't afford to do nuthin but front like they faded, sippin on lemon water.
That's the biggest boss that I've seen thus far!
**singin like T-"Soot"-Pain** BOSS, BOSS, THE BOSS!


NINJAZ and BEACHEZ...PLEASE!