Oh my damn…

And I quote:

Fla. man dials 911, complains his sub had no sauce

2 days ago

subway12.jpg

JACKSONVILLE, Fla. (AP) — The sauce for a spicy Italian sandwich was apparently a must have for one Florida man. The man, Reginald Peterson, called 911 twice after a sandwich shop left off the sauce.

Peterson initially called the emergency number Thursday so that officers could have his subs made correctly, according to a police report. The second call was to complain that police officers weren’t arriving fast enough.

Subway workers told police that Peterson, 42, became belligerent and yelled when they were fixing his order. They locked him out of the store when he left to call police.

When officers arrived, they tried to calm Peterson and explain the proper use of 911. Those efforts failed, and he was arrested on a charge of making false 911 calls.

Peterson did not have a listed phone number.

Source

Haha… I saw this at Crunk & Disorderly and it reminded me of this gem.

You’re welcome.

Maronzio Vance is my hero

OK, so I was cruising the net blog-jacking today. But it had to be done. I am not sorry ;)

Fellow comedian Maronzio Vance is in the midst of a vlog war with none other than P. Diddy. He posted this video last week about how Puffy has the ‘reverse Midas touch’ if you will on his artists… He is saying everything any true 90’s hip hop and R&B fan has been thinking for the last two decades. Please stop what you’re doing and watch this now:

Then Puffy, Diddy, Sean John, whatever the hell… posted this reply — which is chock full of bitchassness. Oh Diddy, how did you let a comic bait you?

I’m so mad I’m just seeing this… I need to amend my previous entry. This should be at the top of the list of things that made me smile today ;) Please check out Maronzio’s Myspace page and let him know how freaking hilarious he is. I heart him for this. Can’t wait to see his re-response! Stay tuned…

Dirty Soap and Poobrushes

Another gem courtesy of Passiveaggressivenotes.com. Enjoy the read.

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My favorite part is the .75 cents taped to the letter. But then also I feel the need to point out that a nice bottle of shower gel could solve this whole problem. I mean who uses bar soap in 2008?

Lots of people?

Really?

Oh… Well, I didn’t know that. OK, then also let me say that clean soap wouldn’t be as much of an issue if you used a washcloth. I mean I’m assuming that’s not the case in this instance, and I don’t want to make this a racial issue or bring up old stuff… but I still don’t understand the ‘no washcloth’ thing. Martha Stewart makes them. I know White folks are buying them…

But I digress…

The underwear on the toothbrushes is inappropriate. So I feel Laura on that. I say kick Jimmy get a new roommate. Dude is a pig-dog.

I didn’t know you could get this high…

So I came across this gem of an interview with DMX over at XXL magazine’s site… What are you smokin, X? This is sad, sad business.

Let’s hope this was some fake i’m-tryin’-to-keep-my-hip-hop-cred-i-need-publicity-ignorance, and not just the effects of years of crack smokin’. (Clearing throat)… And I quote:

Are you following the presidential race?
Not at all.

You’re not? You know there’s a Black guy running, Barack Obama and then there’s Hillary Clinton.
His name is Barack?!

Barack Obama, yeah.
Barack?!

Barack.
What the f*** is a Barack?! Barack Obama. Where he from, Africa?

Yeah, his dad is from Kenya.
Barack Obama?

Yeah.
What the f*** ?! That ain’t no f***in’ name, yo. That ain’t that nigga’s name. You can’t be serious. Barack Obama. Get the f*** outta here.

You’re telling me you haven’t heard about him before.
I ain’t really paying much attention.

I mean, it’s pretty big if a Black…
Wow, Barack! The nigga’s name is Barack. Barack? Nigga named Barack Obama. What the f***, man?! Is he serious? That ain’t his f***in’ name. Ima tell this nigga when I see him, “Stop that bullshit. Stop that bullshit” [laughs] That ain’t your f***in’ name. Your momma ain’t name you no damn Barack.

So you’re not following the race. You can’t vote right?
Nope.

Is that why you’re not following it?
No, because it’s just… it doesn’t matter. They’re gonna do what they’re gonna do. It doesn’t really make a difference. These are the last years.

Oh yeah… and in case you skipped right to the bottom, the article starts off with him talking about the gospel album (yes you read right) that he is working on.

Precious Lord, take my hand.

Source

Worst date ever. Ever. Pt. II

Alright, so lets recap.

  1. Dude didn’t want to take my “ass all the way back home”
  2. Dude didn’t pay for my meal and asked me for extra money to pay his
  3. I saw dude’s penis on the first date – and I don’t mean that in a good way (shout to Dom Irrera – because he always reads my blogs)

So for whatever reason, even after Pee-Gate I decided not to take a cab home. Maybe I was in shock. Maybe it was the comic in me… My boy Bryson said that probably I just needed to see it all the way through just to make sure it was really happening.

I get in the car with dude and I scoot as far away from him as physically possible. And the whole time, I’m sniffing for pee pee. Seriously. I was like, I think I can smell it. Why was I trying so hard? I cannot answer that. Now if you know me, you know I was throwing this brother shade all nite. Big eyes, snarky comments… but dude was either completely unable to read overt social cues and body language… or I was on a prank dating show and have yet to be notified. Really, my boy Dawan is on BET’s Hell Date. I was seriously like alright D… very funny… Now where’s the dancing midget?

Exhale… So we pull up in front of my place and he puts the car in park and he’s like I really like you. I like your style. I know you said you’re going out of town this week and I’m working such and such nite, so I guess we’ll just get together next Sunday…

WORD?

So then he’s like “Alright Erin really… no matter how hard you beg, I’m not coming up. Not on the first date. It’s too soon.”

Blank stare back at him.

He interpreted the blank stare as my not getting his ‘joke’. So he kept going. “You really need to learn some self control and stop being so aggressive.” So I said, “Yeah, I’m gonna go upstairs and pray about it.” So I open the door to get out and he’s like, “Wait, I think I should walk you to your door. I mean this IS southeast.”

Double WORD?

Needless to say I laughed, got out of the car and slammed the car door. I then went in the house and called my parents to tell them they should give up hope of ever having grandchildren. Because I quit. Cause if anything like this ever happens to me again, I might just snap. I was like hey, if you put away money for their college or to help with a wedding for me, do yourselves a favor and liquidate it. You’re old. Buy yourselves something nice.

So that’s it. That’s the whole story. Not nearly as eventful as the beginning, but just as redunkulous.

‘Til next time.

Worst date ever. Ever

OK, here’s what went down… And I warn you, this is going to make you want to cry…

EJ meets dude. Dude asks EJ out to dinner and she accepts because dude seems pretty normal. Dude tells EJ he wants to take her to a restaurant out in a ritzy town in Maryland. EJ thinks, well there are a lot of great places to eat in the city and that’s pretty far from where I live, but hey, it’s your date. I’m down for whatever… Now EJ is tired of writing in the third person. Less than a minute after I get in dude’s car, dude is like, I forgot that you lived so far out. Do you mind if we don’t go to the place I suggested? And I was like no, not at all. Then he says, “Good cause I don’t really feel like driving way out there and then bringing your ass all the way back home. I mean this is just a first date.” Ass all the way back home. Verbatim. I promise. It’s permanently etched in my memory. Now, at this point I thought about just opening the car door, tucking my head and taking my chances rolling down the street. That I didn’t do that would turn out to be the biggest mistake of my dating life so far. Yes, bigger than the time my clumsy behind wore my favorite white blouse on a date at Maggiano’s and ordered the lasagna.

Big.

So we decide to go to Capitol hill and eat — thats about 2 miles from my house. We went to one of my favorite restaurants and here is the summary of what went down while we were there. We eat. He orders two drinks. I’m cool with just a ginger ale. He does not pay for my meal. Then once I pay for my half and leave my tip, he puts down $20 and then asks me if i have any more small bills b/c he doesn’t want to break his other 20. “Once you break it, it’s gone,” he said… Really, dude? I told him to ask the waitress to change his damn 20.

THEN, and this is the topper — we leave the restaurant and he says “This always happens to me when i drink rum” And I’m like whats wrong? He’s like, “It makes me have to pee.” So I was like alright, let’s go back to the restaurant, we’re only like half a block away… And he says, “Oh no it’s cool.” So I think… ok, it’s cool, right? We keep walking and then I realize I’m walking by myself. He has STOPPED IN AN ALLEY, unzipped his pants and is peeing right there in the alley — in front of me ON A DATE.

I could not move. I was paralyzed.

I know what you’re thinking… Awful. Absolutely awful right?

And of course you’re right… It was awful. Nasty as all hell. But I do have to give him credit for one thing… When he caught up to me after his peepee break, he did make it a point to walk on the outside of the sidewalk to protect me from street traffic — because he is a gentleman.

I’d never prayed that a car would actually jump a curb before that nite…

There’s more, but I can’t bring myself to type it right now. Stay tuned for Part II.