Lana couldn’t remember a thing. She felt nauseous while scanning the room, the stench of outside garbage drifting in from the open window. After giving the room a once-over, Jim walked in, wearing a dingy wife-beater and familiar boxers. The ones with patterns of red lips on them that sagged in the rear. The same ones he wore last night and was nasty enough to slip back on, apparently.
“You want coffee?” he asked her, now sitting on the bed with white crust in the corners of his mouth.
Lord have mercy, she thought, what am I doing here with him?
“Mama brewed a fresh batch. I can get you some, if you want.” His voice was poor-sounding to Lana. She could hear his spit turning and sloshing against his mouth with each word.
Lana turned to the nightstand and looked at the red box of chocolates she’d eaten a fourth of as she pulled the sheets over her. She felt his hand on her shoulder and scowled under his fingers that felt like damp clay. Pulling her arms together and tucking her body into a ball, she remembered every damn thing now. The gold ban on her left ring finger jogged her back to Vegas lights and them both wearing gem-studded Elvis-like jumpsuits, saying I do.
Copyright 2014 Totsymae
I’m experimenting while I marinate on how to do some other stuff going in my head. See, what happened was, my film is supposed to have folk actually talking with all these neat voices and whatnot. Though, I have this cousin, and you may have one too, who says he’s gonna hook you up and soon as you text him, he’s fallen off the planet.
Anyhow, I had to hook myself up. Know what I mean? I’ve got the day off tomorrow to play around since it’s snowing down here and whatnot. Anyhow (I say that a lot, don’t I?), stay warm and curl up with a popcorn to enjoy my first movie. Hehehee!
Yes, I’ve been caught in a somewhat compromising position. I have my very own paparazzi, as in Totsy, that is. You see, when you’re shooting for fame, being fabulous alone isn’t enough. You have to start your own fire and pour lighter fluid into it, okay? However, I was totally unaware she put me under such a small microscope.
Now, I was well aware of the photo of me in the red hat, alright? But the other two…Oh, my…What I’ve been doing in the dark has caught up and showing my backside. All praises to my parents’ DNA for a firm derriere and Burlington Coat Factory for that fantastic sale on Black Friday. You feel me? I have never snatched anything out of anyone’s hands so fast. While I suffered a slight abrasion to the head, it was so well worth it, don’t you think, people?
Rewind this back to my own paparazzi, if you will. Aren’t you past tired and curious as to why Alec Baldwin is constantly harassed by them? Well, word on the streets is that he’s calling them. Alec, I used to be so crazy about you. The way you’ve been carrying on, I’m starting to wonder if I was crazy to entertain such a crush. Maybe this temper you have turns the little wifey on but the viewers are going to turn you off if you don’t start taking your meds, Booboo. You’re so ridiculous, Alec and well…look at those photos of me. I look too fine and luscious to be talking about your silly antics.
As for these photos, Totsy blackmailed me and I’m now under the gun of exploitation, which is a typical element of the Hollywood trade, right Chris Jenner? From one business woman to another, I respect that particular skill you have on some level but I am so ready for your family to get off the air. All of you have gotten on my nerves, so it’s time for you to go, okay? Please. I’d say I’ll give you five dollars to go away but I know you’d take it and money’s tight right now. And oh, Bruce, don’t have your Adam’s apple shaven. You’re already looking like the girls. Albeit, an old girl but if you follow through on that procedure, Chris is going to botox and pimp you too. You feel me?
Anyway, I’m committed to flaunting my fabulousness at an undisclosed location. I’m booked and, as you well know, forever hooked on the grapevine of Hollywood. If the pay is good, I’ll put you and your hood on blast too, baby.
Forever and Always,
Beatrice from Apartment 7B aka Queen of the Scoop
1. Carry breath mints.
2. Produce more than you consume.
3. Never go for seconds at the dinner table. The food will be there tomorrow. In other words, refer back to rule number 2.
4. Listen more. Talk less. Stock up with superglue, if needed. (Masking tape will work also but it may cause public humiliation.)
5. Get over what it is you’re not over. Staying where you are stunts your growth and eventually folk will not wanna be bothered with you.
6. Wear clothing fit for your body type, sex and age, not somebody else’s. Transvestites are exempt, however.
7. Mind your business.
8. Limit Facebook statuses. Nobody cares as much as you do anyhow.
9. Stop pretending. However, if you’re faking it ’til you make it and haven’t made it yet, cry yourself to sleep at night and start putting a Plan B or C in place.
Finally, I’m able to present new work. Being that I’ve struggled with oil pastel for awhile, I thought this was worth showing. And since the holidays are quickly approaching, I won’t bog you down with a lotta chit chat. I will say that I hope you enjoy time with your family, no matter what you’re celebrating. I wish you good health today and on into the new year.
I’m beginning to have a lot more to say on my blog. Not a whole lot about things that matter but something, nonetheless. Today is probably something to say.
Well, you know down here in Georgia, the young fella made a motion to go in that school and act like he was gonna shoot it up. I really don’t know his real intentions. Folk are complex, know what I mean? Anyhow, I have a friend in that school. She said he busted up the window where the Pre-K class was, then went to the entrance (and you have to be buzzed in unless you’re slick and walk behind somebody) and made himself known.
She said folk keep asking how they got away. Have feet, will run. Plus, no bullets were shot from this fella’s gun, so that helped. Said a teacher had taken this one kid to the restroom and he said he wasn’t finished. She said, “You’re finished now!” and took that child and ran. Folks were running in the woods, she said. All this time, I thought she was still at the middle school working and come to find out, she was running for her life this week. You just never know, huh…
Used to be this kinda thing mostly happened at the post office. Not that any place is better for it to happen…
Thank you for hanging out with me. As a non-drinker/smoker, I feel like when I blog, I’m hanging out in a bar, so to speak – exchanging words and utter nonsense. In virtual communities, you can be multiple folk or simply let your hair down and be yourself. I like that. I don’t care how many folk you are ’cause it’s so unlikely we’ll ever meet anyhow. And if we did meet, I wouldn’t be mad ’cause you said you’re an airplane pilot when you really drive a taxi. It’s not like I can cast stones. Well, I could but there’s no long term glory in that.
If I were gonna be on the deceptive side, I’d more than likely tell you I was a naturopath doctor or something of that nature. Like, I could find so many cures to stuff with Google and you’d never know. Matter of fact, I have a cure for toothaches. I have a cure for a number of ailments, actually. I keep a stash of books around here, so I really could help you if need be. I know. My background’s in art but I have to know a lot about a lotta things as an artist. If you’re not an artist, you can’t possibly understand the intensity of what I do…which is why…I’m applying to medical school. It would behoove you to make an appointment with me once I set up my practice so I can practice on you.
In the meantime, I’m gonna keep shop here on this blog, experimenting with words, art and whatever moves me. Thank you again for hanging out and being you or whoever you choose to be.
I have another game. First, I have to tell you the answer to the previous game we played. The image in that post for the first game is a portrait of Marilyn Monroe. The music artist is Sheila E. Did the words of the song match up with her life a little? They did to me. Anyhow, Sheila E is one helluva drummer and always looks sexy while doing it. The E stands for Escovedo and her father is Pete Escovedo, also a musician. If you’re familiar with Prince, you may recognize the Minneapolis sound. If you don’t know Prince’s music, you have been terribly deprived and I feel so deeply sorry for you. Congrats to Linda, at The Good, The Bad, The Worse. She guessed everything right. She is one hip diva. Not that the rest of you aren’t. She’s just probably more hip or something like that. She probably takes diva pills or wears a patch. Who knows…
Anyhow, watch Sheila E perform Glamorous Life and do her thing on the drums in this video:
To go on with our game today, we’re recognizing another musical talent. I surely hope you haven’t been deprived twice. If so, I’m gonna have to write out a bootleg prescription for some Get A Life. I just had me some the other day. The low dosage, that is. It really should be easy, folks. For the prize, I’m gonna blow you a nice little kiss.
Now that both conventions are over, we’re on the campaign trails of President Barack Obama and Mitt Romney. I, ladies and gentleman folks, have been invited to participate in a PBS special, Race 2012, by Monica Medina of Monica’s Tangled Web. I’m so excited about this invitation ’cause it gives me a creative opportunity to write and compose new art applicable to a pivotal time in our history. Thank you again, Monica.
With that said, I hope you’ll join me for a series of posts, starting October 2 and each Tuesday thereafter, leading to the election as I delve into race and politics in the way that I try to do. Honestly. I’m even considering taking Beatrice from Apt. 7B along with me. I could use the company out here on the trail. As long as she’s not trying to take over, she can hang. Know what I’m saying?
I know folks from other countries occasion this little blog, so you’re more than welcome to hone in. Race and elections aren’t just an American thing, you know. I look forward to your thoughts, whatever they may be. Also, there will be other bloggers and artists joining in, so you’ll get to hear more folk than me. I’ll add links to my Tuesday posts so you won’t be out there in virtual wonderland not knowing where to go after you leave my place. Okay? You won’t need a map or nothing. Just click the link and be on your merry way.
Now. When you do come over to my place, I’ll have some virtual desserts and punch set out. Remember what your mama taught you, folks. Don’t come on an empty stomach trying to gobble up everything in the vicinity. Alright? This is more about feeding your brain anyhow.
I’ll see you good folks around real soon. And shut the door tight on your way out. These flies ain’t no joke down south.