*L-I-I-T, you do me strong tin, mahn! *

Devil is a liar o, my people I tell u. He really is. I bind every spirit of lust! lol ok. Na me cause am, make I talk true. I really hate standing in line when I get to the club. There are a few reasons. One, I feel like my old ass has no bizness there in the first place- -after one' like me, so shame dey catch me small. Two, I always get into some dumb azz conversations that I really don't care to have. Three, I feel like those ugly heifers and Diddy wannabe dudes getting in through VIP ain't better than my ugly ass anyways, and they sure don't have 2 heads. I used to be a world known rug-cutter, you see. I had sooo perfected the act that I would get in on a packed night, and bring my friends and BF (Now hubby) in for free. I was notorious, but I changed my ways. Can I get a GLORY HALLELUYER! LOL. So on Saturday, as I pulled up to the club, I knew there was no way in hades I was getting in that long azz line. I was determined to get in there in 7 minutes, flat. I applied my red 'power-puff girl' lipstick, and put on my poker face. There's something about red lipstick that gives me an extra chip on my shoulder. It allows me to say or act in ways that I ordinarily wouldn't if I didn't put it on. I don't know if other girls feel that way about red lipstick.

When I first reached the place, shame catch me small. I was supposed to carpool with some girls, but I figured I could seduce the Mr. to come with me. Apparently, my seduction skills need to upgrading, cos the dude put me on 'he's coming'. In the end, I decided to do big ghel and drive myself. So after like 45seconds on the line, I got impatient, and 'excused' myself all the way to the front. Those people wicked o. It's as if these people installed flood lights there, just for me. I could feel disgusted eyes boring into the back of my head, but na me send dem message? I switched to vixen mode. I set my hook on the supposed HNIC (Head Nigga in Charge) and gave him my most winning smile. Convo with the bouncer in front of me, went something like this.

Me: Hello. Huge smile While maintaining eye contact with HNIC.
Bouncer: Good evening, ma'am. Are you on the guest list?
Me: Leaned in. No I actually forgot today. Think I could squeeze through?
Bouncer: Excuse me? He looks like he's about to knock his 'kondo' on my head, so fear catch me small.
Me: I was beginning to loose hope. chei! shey this dude will send me back in line ni? Imagine the shame...
HNIC comes over as I was about to rephrase to the bouncer.
HNIC: Buddy man. wass' er pro'lem?
Me: Thinking. Mscheew. asheey u just fine for nothing. See ebonics... 'prolem' koo, prozac nii...
The conversation ensued between the 2 of them. The bouncer in front of me reluctanly checks my ID, obviously looking for a reason to send me back in line, but 'OLOUN MAJEEEE OOOO! Help me sing it out loud! (Yes, I'm a retired kokolette. *Hides face in shame*) lol

So Phew! Got in the club and headed straight for the bar, I switched from Vixen to snob in 2 seconds. lol.

I usually don't drink when I'm out to have a great time on the dance floor. I LOVE to dance. But on some nights, I just wanna profile and watch the 'craizies'. I start off with Amaretto, but I wasn't feeling it, the music was wack- at first. And the girls weren't here to show off with. I decided to try the Long Island Iced tea (LIIT) that the Mr. always has. Omo! half way through the drink, I was feeling the techno, making eye contact with the HNIC from outside, and giving off Amber signals. Brace your self, people, becos it gets worse. LOL. After the girls finally make it in, (apparently, they had been texting me to come get them in for free, but they had to pay 40buck to get in, and they weren't happy about that) I hit full craze mode. One thing to remember. Liquor and the dancefloor don't mix for me. Let's just say, I am 'un-kosher' when the two come together. If you add dancehall music to the mix, I'm toast.lol. The elements weren't working for me, cos I had all 3 in one night! I'll be damned if I hear 'King of the dancehall' and I'm profiling. Kia Kia, I carried my second glass of LIIT to the dancefloor, and started showing out with these girls. FYI: These are some craizie azz heifers; I'm talking dancing 'bumper-to-bumper' with themselves on the dancefloor, showing off whenever they can, and so on and so forth. They are younger, but since we went to college together, I hang out with them occassionally, and I join in the madness. Agbaya like me. LOL

So ur gurl is Gettin it in on the dance floor, and then the smell hits me before I realize it. I LOVE a man who smells good. Infact, most of the time, I follow my nose. If u don't smell right, u gets NO love. So my nostrils are liking it, plus whoever it was can throw down. The girls seemed to be feeling him too, so I'm thinking. Jealous heifers are prolly cursing me out right now. Like how does my ugly, married, 'after-one' ass get the good ones anyway? LMAO. I send dem message to look like mami-water? No serzly tho. These chics are all skinny heifers, with grey eyes... or sumn of that nature. lol. Yes, I'm hating. MSCHEEEEWWWWWW! Can't my fat ass enjoy sometimes? rubbish and poraro. Did I already mention this dude can dance? I was absolutley killing the durty wok, but trying my hardest to limit the crase. Eventually the dancehall session ends, and I realize my dumbass is bordeline drunk. Dude still wants to dance, but I'm too old to be doing the 'skanky-leg' so I excuse myself. Dude comes to join me again, and is talking about getting the number. I answer him with my sure-fire curve ball...

'Why?'

That line never fails to work. But this dude shoots back his own curve-ball o... got a sistah feeling all shy and shid... mscheeeewwwwwww... God pass devil, my people! God pass devil!

TBC.

More gist to come, but ur girl's gotta do some work b4 she gets fired.

PS: I had a 7 day bday celebration which ended this past saturday. So excuse the madness. I will get back to the Good Proverbs 31 Neffie after I'm done spilling the goods...LMAO

Toodles! ;)