Meet the Queen of Twerk

I don’t know about you but I’m not into this cold weather. It’s way too cold out there. I’m telling you, I can be indoors from the cold for half and hour and the cold is still deep in my bones. Plus, I wasn’t sleeping so well ’til the last two nights. It sho’ nuff is something to wake up, feeling like you haven’t slept but five good minutes and then have to face the cold while dark is still out. But I’m not here to whine, though I realize I just did…So. Whatever… I’m really here to share this personalized postcard from Beatrice who’s found her place under the sun.

Beatrice in Jamaica

“Beatrice in Jamaica” Color Pencil/Marker on paper. Copyright 2014 Totsymae

Hello, you fabulous people trying to stay warm. I am so delighted to be with you from where I am, I just had to share. Yes, I’m sipping from a coconut and have picked up a rasta as I listen to dis raggae, mon. Dem beats play in de background and I do tink I’ve picked up an accent, yah. Peace to you and glory to the sun while dis girl has herself some fun. Miley, take some lessons from the people who invented twerking, okay?

Belle of the Ball + 2 Left Feet = Sit It Down

Beatrice Goes Hollywood. Copyright 2013 Totsymae

Beatrice Goes Hollywood. Copyright 2013 Totsymae

So, Totsy wanted me to do cover story of her at the ball. Why ever did she desire that? I tried to talk her out of it because I so hate wasting my time. My doing a story on Totsy at a ball is like giving Jennifer Hudson a Hollywood star. Undeserved at this moment in time, okay?

Let me say this. Well, the title says it all. Who or whatever put the bug in Totsy’s ear to get up and dance was a total set-up. Had the gumption to take off her stilettos as if she was going to take over the dance floor. Not only does she not know a thing about line dancing but I don’t think she knew if she was coming or going. It should’ve been a humbling experience after the first time she got out there but she went two or three more times. As if she knew what she was doing! I absolutely cried and laughed on the inside for her.

Now, I’m as good of a friend as they come. You know that, right? A good friend who tells it like it T. I. Is. Okay? I gave her the business while driving her home, people, as she was drunk from spinning in the wrong direction on that dance floor. She even had the audacity to be tired and napped most of Saturday. I give it to her that she did look snazzy in that black Michelle Obama-like dress. Bloated and all, she was snazzy. However, being that was there, we all know who was crowned Ms. Hot, okay? Don’t let the fact that I shop in Ashley Stuart fool you, people. I am definitely that diva to be reckoned with. Hello? Knock, knock. High five. It’s the deliciousness of a diva coming to you live.

Hotter than Hot,

Beatrice from Apt. 7B