“Prfile in Blue” Acrylic on paper. Copyright 2013 Totsymae
Contrary to popular belief, I have me a little life down here in this south. Come two days time, I’m heading myself to a ball. Got my dress yesterday, tried it on in my bathroom where I can see all of myself from every angle and folks, I do declare on a stack of Bibles, the Torah and Qu’ran, I look hhhhhhoooot! I ain’t never lied to you, so there’s no point starting now. Okay? The truth will set you and a diva free. Alright?
This is how hot I was, folks. I was brushing my hand over my dress while I was looking at my divaness and folks, I thought I was gonna catch fire. You hear me? Saw myself a spark and had to come outta that dress for fear of blowing myself right on up. I have to at least make it to the ball and have an audience if I’m gonna go kaboom. Like, it means nothing if I’m standing in the mirror all by my darn self. You feel me?
I got my do done and and it’s on like a bag of popcorn and Skittles. Okay? Got ole Beatrice over here looking at me cross and sideways with her Hollyhood self. I may have to get her to cover my story and write about my fabulosity ’cause to not do so would make absolutely no sense. Heeyyyy…As the queen of Hollywood gossip would say, ‘Don’t be mad. Be glad somebody as…’ Well, nevermind me trying to rhyme some silly words together. I’ll let Beatrice, the current mistress of undercover hatin’, give you the scoop…Umph…I’ll be darn if I ain’t over here sizzling, folks. Somebody, call 911.
“Looky Looky” Digtial Art / Copyright 2013 Totsymae
I have absolutely no idea how to keep up with you folk anymore. Why, with The Real Housewives of Atlanta back on the air, me nosing around in this and that and every other whatnot I’m into these days, blogging is the furthest thing from my mind. I do want to share half of a story with you. I do, folks, have to exercise some level of discretion since acquiring this position with the FBI, trying to investigate what in the heck’s going on with Obamacare.
So, as the story goes, I had a texting stalker about a week ago. That joker was texting so fast, I could hardly get a word in. Scared the living poop outta me when one day I came home and heard some walking around up my stairs. At the time I’m hearing all this foot-walking, I’m hungry as all get out and had to stop mid-bite ’cause I’m thinking this nut’s been rambling in my paperwork. Seeing that everything was intact, what else could it possibly be, right?
So, I stay halfway focused on eating and still hearing footsteps. Call me crazy, foolish or what have you but I couldn’t fight this fool on an empty stomach. I had to get my strength up, folks. I kept my right eye on the patio door and my left one toward the den area while stuffing my mouth in case I had to make a run but I be darn if I wasn’t closer to the fridge than I was to the door. Now that I think about it, I don’t even think what I was eating was worth losing my life for but being the risk-taker I am, I kept right on eating some leftover whatnot.
Next thing I know, my daughter’s friend comes down and my eye sockets got so big, I thought my eyeballs would roll right to the floor. By this time, I’m chewing but it ain’t all that good, being that I’m scared for my life. Now, I can truly understand why them folk get killed 15 minutes into a movie. I mean, really. The choices folk make. Though, I’m real happy I lived to tell you about this. Maybe one day, I’ll fill you in on the rest of the story.
“Mama’s Weary” Acrylic on paper. Copyright 2013 Totsymae
Myrna’s heels were worn down from walking in her own kitchen, feeding her husband who’d grown old and solid in weight. Day in and day out, she whipped up meals according to his taste buds but she often had a mind to poison him. While he sat and seemed helpless enough sitting on two bone-rotted hips, he talked too much. Sometimes, he’d ring a bell to be served a glass of water or holler out some command while she was watching her soap operas. Myrna simply loathed the idea of a broken down man issuing commands to her. If she could just kill him and get away with it, she would’ve taken them both out of misery.
“Shut up, you old buzzard!” Myrna had jumped off her warm seat on the couch, missing a cliffhanger to fetch Paul’s spoon off the floor he’d dropped. “I’ll burn up this house and leave you here if you don’t stop messing with me.” Her lips were tight and hearing her deepened voice, Paul’s eyes bucked.
He looked to be marinating a thought. “No, you won’t, you ole crusty woman.” He then worked up a wad of spit and blinded Myrna’s right eye.
“Uggghhh!” Myrna balled her fists and threw Paul an uppercut, sending his bottom gums bumping with the top, as his teeth were soaking in a glass in the kitchen window.
She then stared at the sagging old man Paul had turned into. Couldn’t believe she’d fallen in love with him twenty years ago. Had she envisioned the scene she was in with him now, she’d have stayed single and whorish. And just that quickly, she began missing those Friday nights at Foxy’s Club, eating smoked ribs and collards in a haze of tobacco-stained teeth men who only desired a soft round bottom against their palms at the end of the night with no strings. What was in her mind that made her give away that kind of freedom? What lines had this drooping buzzard laid on her ears all those years ago to ultimately bring her life to this?
Photo by Totsymae 2013
I don’t wanna be a bore and while I haven’t been blogging, the honest to true truth of the matter is I haven’t had anything significant to talk about. There’s been a definite pause in trash-talking and it’s starting to bother me to a great degree. Why it’s become such a botheration is ’cause folk who don’t trash-talk are generally about to drop off the cliff and land in the abyss of being a bore.
Me, Myself and I haven’t gotten together to talk about it yet ’cause we’ve been too concerned about the shutdown and now that the shut is up, we’ve kinda gone our in our own direction. We haven’t divorced each other but you may as well say we’ve separated. Me is waiting on the return of The Real Housewives of Atlanta to air with the new season next month. Myself’s been tapping I on the shoulder ’cause she’s in stuck mode. I guess being between Me and I ain’t the most pleasant place to be right now.
And I is writing. I’s had no time for Me or Myself, which is how she gets when she’s wrapped up in anything. I is all about herself and while she’s still pleasant, her mind’s not on anything outside herself. When folk are on the phone with her, she’s not paying much attention to them. I ain’t all that interested ’cause I gets bored very easily with repetitive conversations and would rather talk about herself, even if there’s not much to talk about. Heck, she’ll make something up ’cause she’s rather inventive that way.
In the meantime, Me is getting hungry and wants to backhand Myself for tapping her on the shoulder now about having a get-together. I, of course, ain’t thinking about either one of them and is propped in bed with her laptop, talking about absolutely nothing on her blog. I is trippin’.
Do you realize Dr Phil’s been on the air for about 10 years now? That’s good for him making all that money and whatnot but that says a whole lot about folk out here in this world. They’re messed up in the head and narcissistic about it.
And with Dr Phil being on the air that long, well, I reckon that chair Robin sits in is mighty special and auction-worthy. That’s 10 whole years and counting of the same behind sitting in the same seat for a what? Sideline celebrity. Okay, I admit I’m hating a tad ’cause I watch the Dr on the regular and I’ve been wanting to uproot Robin outta that seat. Not that I want the Dr, ’cause I don’t, I don’t reckon, but I want to go to that studio over in Cali one of these days and with me wanting to occupy a reserved seat, I see a potential problem. Not for me, particularly but for Robin. I’m real sure she hasn’t been confronted with this kind of challenge. Well, there’s a first time for darn near everything, ain’t it?
I figure my first approach to the chair is to act like nobody’s sitting there. If that fails, which I’m sure it will, I’ll get to the studio early and put a chair in the rear, where no cameras are, with her name on it. Maybe the Dr can highlight me and ask how to draw a perfect circle instead of asking Robin stuff she acts like she knows about.
I’m real sorry to interrupt your broadcast, Robin but I think it’s downright critical that the show spotlights how to draw basic shapes on occasion. After all, you ain’t talking about nothing the world needs to know. As a woman myself, I clearly understand why you’re there but I’d appreciate you more if you answered the phones. Better yet, you’d be doing me a real favor to be a good hostess and pass out some cookies and milk while I teach those who tune in how to make a happy face while you sit in the back somewhere.
“Yack” Watercolor on paper. Copyright 2013
After tomorrow, I have time all to myself. I’ve been looking in the mirror, asking Myself, “So whatchu gonna do?” and Myself hasn’t answered back yet. I don’t know what her plans are for me but I’ve got a real strong feeling she’ll have me working in the yard. She sorta mentioned it already but knowing that I ignored her, she’s singing a cut the grass song, so it’s ringing in my head.
Now, Myself knows good and well I can’t be on my feet all day in nobody’s yard, even if it is my own. She did say I can soak my feet afterwards but she didn’t have to tell me that. Feet hollers loud enough to let me know. Okay?
Myself has a way of making me do things I ain’t rightly up to doing. She’s had me working so hard at times, Feet, Legs, Thighs and all them get to telling me to sit down. Myself keeps pushing it though ’cause she gets all bothered when she’s in the mood to do stuff and I tell her to stop. Said if it was left to me, I’d be eating Sorbet or some other whatnot all day and raised Eyebrow up at me, asking what the devil was wrong with me anyhow. Well, I couldn’t rightly respond with any kinda intelligence, so I kept right on working ’til the mission was accomplished.
You should’ve heard Feet, Legs, Thighs, and even Hips joined in, giving me the business. Talking about they were gonna wait three days ‘fore they settled in and start hurting me on account of me not giving them no rest. True to their word, they did exactly what they said they’d do. All I could do was sit there and take it. Lips told Tongue to cluck against Teeth when Eyes acted like they wanted to cry. Myself rolled Neck and said, “Lordy mercy, ain’t this about nothing…”
Watercolor on paper. Copyright 2013 Totsymae
In the way back when days, there were floods that wiped out folk on earth. That is, if you believe in the Bible and whatnot. I’m not asking you to. However, when I start thinking about floods, there was a reason for them. You know, folk were downright messy. Always into whatnots. Well, God was sitting around and decided to nip their whatnots in the bud. Whoosh! And they were gone.
Today, there are some folk we could absolutely do without. I can’t sit here and name them all but I’ll do the best I can…
Those folk who got their panties in a bunch about Mickey D’s adding salads to combo meals, if y’all don’t take a backseat and put duct tape on it, I think y’all should be washed away. I’m not trying to be mean but y’all wasting your time and the folk who have to deal with you. Okay? Nobody’s got time for you being messy about a friggin’ salad in the combo meal! What’s wrong with y’all? Seems to me y’all were dropped on your heads as babies and something shook loose. Go sit down. PLEASE.
Congress. Most of y’all real old anyhow. I mean, real old. I don’t have anything against old folk. I don’t. I rather like them. I want to be liked fairly well when I get old. Congress, folk don’t like you. You’re greedy and acting real childlike with very serious decisions but acting real selfish. Why, y’all been cuttin’ up for longer than I care to think about. Plus, you’re grooming the younger ones to act just like you. I say, you need a flood to be sent your way. You want everybody else to sink or swim, let’s see how you fair. Okay?
Lastly, grown folk who tell on other grown folk….Why y’all do that? How do you benefit? Matter of fact, I think the folk who listen to y’all should be wiped out in the flood right along with you. You’re both taking up precious space and if you were gone, less natural resources would be used. I really don’t get how you call yourself a grown folk with all that tattling. Take yourself a backseat too. Okay? Get yourself some business about yourself and learn how to be grown. I bet you won’t be running that mouth when that flood starts coming your way, will you?
Digital Art / Copyright 2013 Totsymae
There are some creature comforts one must never take for granted. That realization’s pounding on me now as I look high and low for the TV remote for my bedroom. Have you tried going from channel 2 to 360 on your cable box? Talk about a waste of time. Now, I could’ve easily gone down to the den to get the remote for that TV but that won’t hardly solve my problem, will it? Neither will me sitting here writing about it but never mind that, okay?
Another creature comfort that should be high on your list is the charger for your cell phone. Yes, I still have a home phone but I’ll be darn if I don’t need a battery for it ’cause it needs charged after talking an hour. Even if I realize I haven’t talked about much for that hour, I still have to wait darn near 24 hours for that phone to charge up for me to talk about nothing again. Totsy, you ask, why in the devil are you living in the dark ages with a home phone? Well, since you asked so bluntly, darn if I know. Maybe I like entertaining telemarketers ’cause those are the only folk ringing me up on it. Or maybe I feel important hearing two phones ringing for me at the same time. I simply don’t know. Okay?
The last creature comfort I absolutely will unplait my hair for and salute to without hesitation is toilet paper. I know I’ve mentioned toilet paper on several occasions. That’s ’cause I have very high respect for its important functions, which is why I never run out. I should have myself some stock in it. One time, I even made a sculpture out of toilet paper. Whatever did you make, Totsy, you ask so eagerly. Why, I made a life-size toilet. What else?
What are those creature comforts you can’t live without…or so you think.
“Two Hats” Watercolor/Ink on paper. Copyright 2013. Totsymae
I’m not sure about folk these days. Like, if I got mad at you on account of a disagreement, I’m not gonna take you to the top of a cliff and push you off. Neither am I gonna make little bombs and blow up shopping malls ’cause we don’t share the same religion or idiotology. And I definitely wouldn’t gun down kids who eat Skittles, get away with it and then hold up my in-laws, or make a speech for 20-something hours talking about a Dr. Seuss book. Something’s wrong with all of these folk but you didn’t hear none of this from me. I’m sitting on the porch minding my business.
“Hair Cut” Digital Art / Copyright 2013
Folks, I’m so glad Monday is just about over. Though, I don’t wanna veer off topic today. I know I tend to talk a good deal of nonsense before I start making a little sense ’cause I got lotsa whatnot topics on my mind…See what I mean?
Anyhow, I was watching Dr. Phil last week, as I do every week, ’cause you get to know all kindsa folk in the world and how they function. Well, as you can see from the title of this here post, I do believe I should get into the catfishing business. You know, putting up random photos and saying I’m Russian or some other nonsense. I mean, folk tend to believe nonsense and this catfishing seems to be a lucrative business without a business plan. Besides, I hate paperwork and I’ve always wanted to be in business for myself.
What convinced me were these two women folk wiring money to these fellas who said they were overseas. One woman wired over $60,000. Why, I thought that was mighty generous of her and said to myself that maybe she wouldn’t mind sending me a chunka change. I don’t know how deep her pockets are but I’m willing to find out. I’d just have to get myself a makeover and practice a deep voice ’cause I have a real sweet southern type voice, in case you didn’t know. (wink, wink)
Anyhow, I don’t think I could get any guys to do sucha thing. They’re too stingy and only ones without their front molars would be willing to dig up that kinda cash. Although I’m not sure why since they’d need to get those teeth replaced. Women are much more desperate, despite them being feminists and whatnot. Plus, women need to feel needed and being that they’re natural nurturers, they’d be more than happy to subsidize me a trip to the islands or a new wardrobe or paying off my house or basically, whatever I desire with the right approach. I’ll see you folks later. I’m off to get my hustle on.
“Orange Hair” Digital Art / Copyright 2013 Totsymae
Talking on the Phone – Some folk do it for a living and are really good at it. I did it for spell and interestingly enough, I don’t like talking to folk that way. Folk can be really hard on the ear. I was talking to this lady once and she just started screaming and giving me the business. Musta been the devil that got up inside of her ’cause I can’t explain it otherwise. It’s interesting how folk who need help go about trying to get it. They’re rude, obnoxious and unprepared to fully handle business. They’re also sorta clueless as to what can happen when they lose it. Know what I mean? I can, however, talk a great deal about Reality TV. At least, the ones I watch. You’d be proud to know I’ve dropped two from my list.
Getting on the Telemarketers’ List – Somebody from the Seniors Kit just rang me up. I don’t know what they wanted but obviously nothing since the phone only rang three times. I’m not a senior and ain’t trying to rush to be one but I do wonder what they wanted. I was thinking it really meant Senior Kitchen, where they want me to feed seniors or something of that nature. I’m sure they’ll call back tomorrow since I’m on speed dial. And oh, I’m always winning some kinda vacation but I’ve yet to see a plane ticket to get me there. I’m so tired of these resort places teasing me ’cause I could really use a nice chill spot. It would be nice if I could speak to a live person about that.
Envying My Neighbor’s Yard – There’s a woman over my way who spends the better part of her life in her yard. I don’t know why sometimes ’cause I can’t see what needs to be done. Sometimes, she rolls around the grass with her dog and kiss it…Well, not quite like I just put it but they’re chummier than a dog and a human should be. Maybe not but I want her yard on my side. I wonder if she’d find herself lost at some point and get over here and do my yard, minus the dog and rolling around and kissing.