Five Things I do Because He Does

1. Brush my teeth when I wake up.

Ever since I was a kid, I never understood the point of brushing my teeth before breakfast. As nasty as that sounds, it just never made any sense to get my mouth all nice and fresh, just to go and have it smelling like maple syrup 15 minutes later. Not what I was taught, just something I deemed as abnormal. But when I’m with my beau and he gets up to brush his teeth before he can get both eyes open, I feel obligated to follow his lead. It would be one thing if we could both just lay for a few with stinky breath, but I refuse to be the sole bad-breath-having person in the bed.

2. Follow sports.

I enjoy sports just as much as the next chick. Especially basketball. So much so, that I enjoy going to games, and even developed a loyalty to Stephen A. Smith, Mike Wilbon, and Stuart Scott. But if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t follow sports. I wouldn’t have the ESPN app downloaded to my phone and I wouldn’t follow them on Twitter. I wouldn’t watch football games when he’s not around. The purpose of this is to ensure that we always have something to talk about, because let’s face it, if you’re with a guy and don’t have at least a novice level of working sports knowledge, you might as well be bad in bed.

3. Listen to hip-hop.

I’m not hip-hop’s biggest fan by any means. In fact, I dislike a great deal of it. But some songs are pretty catchy, and thus slightly entertaining. Most of the songs that I can at least tolerate are songs that I heard while sitting his car or room, or songs that he won’t stop reciting every chance he gets. Every now and then when he’s not around, I miss these songs and find myself downloading them to my ipod. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have many songs by Consequence, Lil’ Wayne, and of course Gucci Mane in all of his retardation.

4. Make the bed.

If you’ve ever visited my bedroom from the time that I was 8 until now, you probably know that I absolutely DESPISE cleaning my room, which includes making my bed. I have no problem keeping any other room, but cleaning my room stresses me out. This is not to say that I’m nasty and have week-old dishes and trash and junk all over the place, I just don’t like to hang up or fold clothes. There will always be clothes on my bed. Just because I don’t believe that my room has to be tidy and my bed has to be made daily doesn’t mean that I practice these same principles at his house. If he has dishes in the sink, I’ll clean them. If he has clothes that need to be folded, I’ll fold them. And since I’m almost always the last person out of the bed (even when I’m not), I’m going to make up his bed. 

5. Make breakfast.

I’ve never really eaten much of a breakfast in the morning, because I’d rather spend the time it takes to prepare a meal under my covers. Usually my breakfast consists of something I can just take with me and/or doesn’t require much preparation. Maybe a piece of fruit,  a bagel, or a quick bowl of cereal, but anything beyond that is too much for me to process at 8:00 in the morning. But he cooks breakfast. Even if its not every day, I know he’d much rather have a hot meal than his leftover Chinese food (I personally think that leftovers make the best breakfast), so when I can, I’m going to make sure that his breakfast comes hot off the stove.


Stories: Flooding his John

For those of you who don’t know me, allow me to introduce myself. I’m the clumsy girl who always finds herself in the most outlandish and unbelieveable shenanigans. Sure, we all have embarassing moments, but I just feel like my moments are far more severe and frequent than the next person. So much so, that when I may injure myself, the surrounding people don’t even ask if I’m ok, they just shake their heads and say, “Only you would (insert act of ridiculousness that I would only do here).” To add insult to injury, my clumsiness is shadowed with a dark cloud of unfortunate events. I’m not talking falling down the stairs, tripping on air, or running into standing objects clumsy and unfortunate (Yes, I’ve done all of these multiple times), I’m talking so clumsy and unfortunate that it belongs in a movie. In  fact, they did make a movie about it. Remember Along Came Polly….

My moment of humiliation began a few years back in the new apartment of the guy that I was seeing at the time. Now he and I weren’t together, but we were seeing each other pretty regularly and doing things that couples do. For the sake of the story, let’s just call this guy Leonidas. Leonidas had his doubts about me because he was 7 years my senior and thought that I may have been a little too immature at 22 to handle a relationship with someone who was pushing 30. As someone who prided herself on being more emotionally and mentally developed than your average 22 year old, I couldn’t disagree with him more. Unfortunately, this wasn’t so evident in the way I dealt with a series of truly unfortunate events on a particular day.

So Leonidas had just moved into his new apartment with his roommate, and he invited me over to come watch a movie and have a few drinks as we often did. Leonidas made spaghetti, I picked up some vodka, and we watched The Last Dragon, a movie that I hadn’t seen up until that point and that he was determined for me to watch. All through the movie, I had the most uncomfortable feeling in my tummy from the spaghetti we had eaten. Like REALLY uncomfortable. Like BGs uncomfortable. I couldn’t understand for the life of me why this spaghetti had me so f’d up until I realized that the ground turkey that I thought I was eating turned out to be italian sausage. Pork. I don’t do pork. I decided that I wasn’t going to sit in discomfort all night, so I went to go do my thug thizzle in the bathroom as soon as he fell asleep. I’m not sure if it was the Lincoln log that I laid down or the excessive amount of toilet paper that did it, but before I knew it, that mofo was filling up fast! I reached behind the toilet to turn the water off, but at that point, it was too late. The damage was done, and there was dirty toilet water all over the floor.

The mature thing to do would have been to tell him what I did so that he could offer a solution. Nope. Instead, I crept around the apartment in search of a mop or something resembling a cleaning supply, and hoped that neither Leonidas or his roommate would wake up to the disaster in the bathroom. After failing to find a mop, bucket, paper towel, or ANYTHING, I went and grabbed one of Leonidas’ old t-shirts from the dirty clothes pile. I was careful in my selection and made sure that the cleaning shirt of shame wouldn’t be missed, because not only was I going to use it to clean up dirty toilet water, I was going to burn it and toss the ashes over the balcony.

So it began. I soaked up as much of the mess as I could in absolute silence, and then went back to bed as quietly as I could. But not quiet enough. He woke up and went to the bathroom. I had to do something, and do something fast! I quickly came up with a list of resolutions:

1. I’d grab my clothes, my purse, and make a mad dash and deal with the fact that I’d probably never speak to him again.

2. I’d lie and say he made the mess in his drunken stupor but probably didn’t remember.

3. I’d lie and say I just took a shower and fell out the tub and splashed water everywhere.


I couldn’t move or think quickly enough before I heard the sound of our datingship come to a screeching halt.

“Why is the floor wet?”

“I don’t know sweetie, what are you talkin about?”

“The bathroom floor is damp and the rug is soaked.”

“Really? Wow, that’s weird.”

“Did you flood the toilet?”

“Huh? Yeah, no I think I did.”

 “You THINK you did?”

“Yes. Yes, I did. Sorry.” 

The conversation continued with him discovering the dirty t-shirt that I stuffed back into the dirty clothes pile. That’s right, I put that nasty ass shirt all over his other good clothes. He then went on to tell me how absolutely silly and childish this whole thing was and that it could’ve all been prevented if I would’ve just told him what happened in the first place. I got sad and asked if he wanted me to leave, but he told me to stay and cooked breakfast for me the next morning.  We never ended up getting together for several different reasons unrelated to this event, but in the back of my mind, I’ve always known that it’s kinda hard to wife up the girl who used your shirt to clean up pissy water that messed up your bathroom rug as a result of flooding your toilet. I wouldn’t date me either.

Just Ain’t Natural

I’d like to think that I’m at least somewhat aware of and concerned with the things that I put into my body, and there are a few things that I have to question. I don’t believe in doing most things simply because that seems to be the consensus. If you expect me to do something, you’d better have a mighty good reason. This thinking has lead me to question a few things that society has deemed “good for you” that I can’t get jiggy with. Just ain’t natural.

1. Flu shots.

Certainly I’ve had just as many flu shots as the next non-poverty stricken kid, but as a child, I was certain that this was for my own good. There’s something about preventing the spread of a virus by injected that same virus into your body that doesn’t sit well with me. Just doesn’t seem like good sense. Sure, I’m no doctor, but I’m certain that this theory is flawed. Furthermore, this whole swine flu vaccine is a joke. Unt unh. I don’t want no parts of that. I think I’m better off fighting off the virus when I catch it than suffering the long term effects of having a virus injected into my body for years and years. A flu shot is handicapping your immune system. Just ain’t natural.

2. Birth control.

Many will question me and call me a fool for saying that I will never ingest birth control. Not a pill, not a patch, not a shot. Happen not gonna. I’ve been on several bc pills and they all had me jacked up. The first made me gain 10 pounds, the second made me want to vomit every day, and the third made me pass out. I’ve been made to believe that its not a good idea to toy with a woman’s already chaotic hormones. Furthermore, don’t let the pain of cramps turn you into a punk! Does it suck when that bitch with the agenda shows her ugly head every month? Hell yeah. But we cramp to prepare us for childbirth. There’s a reason for all of this. Altering that whole process just ain’t natural.

3. Tofu.

I’m all for veganism and/or vegetarianism, but this tofu thing doesn’t seem like a very good idea to me. I’d rather just eat a vegetable. Tofu is supposed to be such a great meat substitute, full of vitamins and other stuff that’s really good for you. You know what else its full of? Estrogen. That’s right, keep messing with that tofu and see if you don’t start growing breasts and crying just because you’re just feeling a little emotional. Additionally, there’s something about a product taking the form of whatever you want it to be that I can’t get down with. You mean to tell me I can have scrambled tofu with my toast and coffee in the morning, and then have a tofu burger for lunch, then turn right around and have ground tofu in my spaghetti sauce at dinner?! Just don’t seem right to me. Just ain’t natural.

4. Atkins.

A low-carb diet? Word? You mean to tell me that instead of eating this apple plucked straight from nature’s bosom, I should eat this slab of dead, rotting, decomposing animal flesh? Why does that make sense to anybody anywhere?!?! Furthermore, if people would just read a freakin book, you’d know that your body needs carbs. It’s just that bleached stuff that will kill you. Why is it that we’ll only eat things that look white and “pure” when in fact the unbleached version tastes the EXACT same and is much better for you? Maybe I’m alone on this one, but there’s something about eating bleach that just ain’t natural.

5. Dildos.

I’m sure that men of many nations will disagree with the following: Having sex with yourself is a bad idea. I’ve known of men to create all kind of contraptions or use they’re right-hand man to create a sensation similar to vaginal penetration. I guess when you’re a man, the task of mimicking sex is pretty easy as long as you have a ziploc bag and warm lotion. Not so easy for women to re-create that feeling. We have to use all kinds of artificial shapes and apparatuses that are boring, uncomfortable, and time-consuming. Furthermore, if you’re no acrobat with monkey arms, its almost impossible to re-create some of our favorite postitions while still being able to relax and enjoy the moment. If nothing else, I will never be able to get into the state of mind required for me to get one off. Just won’t happen. So, I think dildos and other insertion tools are foolish. For me, it has to be the real thing cuz that other ish just ain’t natural. Why snack on popcorn when you can have steak?

Random Rants: In the Passenger Seat

1. I feel like u need to ask my permission to use the cigarette lighter in my car.

2. I feel like a man shopping for peanut butter when I go to buy a new toothbrush. I have to stare at the variety for a solid 3 minutes, knowing I’m going to end up getting the exact same thing I got last time and every other time. Soft, medium, spin, manual, purple, green, so many options!!!

3. How long can you REALLY ride on a donut? I’ve been on one for 6 weeks at a time

4. I CAN’T STAND when people tell me how to drive. That has to be in my top 5 list of things that will make me want to slit someone’s throat. Seriously. I’ll go the way I want, how fast I want, and will turn my blinker on/off when I want. I can navigate most of the metro are pretty well and require none of YOUR assistance.

5. I have the perfect remedy for the alcoholic that wants to go out and drink but has to work the next morning. Before the club, have a pb&j. On the way home, get some fries, but only from McDonalds.

6. Lil’ Wayne is still wack. I know that the masses will disagree, but that’s just how I feel. He’s wack and he looks like Gonzo. Will I continue to dance to his songs? Yes. Why? Because I’m an American.

7. Every policy has a loophole. I believe from the bottom of my heart that you can be a convicted child molester and get a job at a daycare facility. I also believe that a high school dropout can be President. So why would it be hard to believe that a regular gal like me can’t be a billionare blogger?

8. Before 2010 is over, I’m going take some pictures in the parking lot at CVS with an escalade and the words pimpin ain’t easy as my backdrop.

9. Keri Hilson’s ‘Slow Dance’ still makes me want to strip down and give the lap dance of my life. LOVE THAT SONG.

10. I can’t stand to hear people pop their gum. Sounds too much like chewing food, and I CAN’T STAND to hear and/or see people eat. Close your damn mouth.

11. Its always so interesting to see someone towering over me when I go out. I just expect to be the tallest woman there. Every time. I’m almost offended when a woman taller than me comes into the the places that I frequent the most. Who let YOU into MY club?

12. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m a party girl. However, each time I go out, I get closer and closer to retiring from the club scene. Could be the clubs, could be the company, could be that I’m just burnt out. Whatever the case, this is getting old and fast. And taking off make-up before I go to bed is a royal pain in the ass.

13. I really do love DC.

14. I feel like I’m getting close….

15. I need to find some people to go out with that are 10x more hype than I am. Its too much work being the go-to-party-all-the-time chick.

16. Its not called a cookout. Its a BBQ. That’s what you do. You BBQ. With BBQ sauce.

17. Other people still scare the shit out of me when they drive. For the most part, I’d rather drive wherever I go because I’m deathly afraid of not being in control of the car.

18. I’m going to go back and edit this entire blog so I can finally send my mom the link and show her what I’ve been talking about.

19. Thanksgiving in the Mexican Riviera? Sounds like a great idea to me. Let’s do it mom.

20. I sincerely believe that my granny and I are the most normal people in the world and everyone else is stupid.

21. California rolls do not apply merely to Californians. I’ve been out of California for 7 years and have witnessed several non-Californians neglect to come to a full and complete stop at all stop signs. What a rude label to put on the wonderful people of the Golden State.

22. I believe that if you always use the same soap, you’ll eventually be immune to it. I don’t have any proof of this, but it makes sense enough to me. For that reason, I like to switch my body wash up from time to time. I may start with Dove, go to Caress, venture over to St. Ives, and double-back at Oil of Olay. After all, who wants to be immune to Dove? That would suck.

23. Espn in 3D. No woman in America will ever be able to watch another reality TV show, go out to dinner, or have a conversation for more than 9 minutes with a man. Curse the no-sex-getting bitter man who came up with that idea.

24. Tampon commercials are still a very big deal.  It’s still just as uncomfortable to have one come on during the Family Guy commercial break, and they’re still just as embarassing and just as mortifying as they’ve always been. Period.

25. Chivalry isn’t dead, just different. At least it is on the East coast. I’m not worried about any stagecoaches running up onto the sidewalk, so you can walk on either side if you’d like. However, you can still get that ass over to my side of the car and open the door.

26. All California State employees are now earning minimum wage. Not even state, but federal minimum wage. Things are about to go from sugar to shit.

27. Write your congressmen, we gotta get these Asians off the road. Early, son.

28. “Men are a necessary evil.” Still haven’t developed an opinion about that statement yet.

29. That moment at work when you realize you forgot to put on deoderant is like when a hooker walks into church. All of a sudden, you think all eyes are on you.

30. I may have just passed on an opportunity that some would trade their first born child for, but what is in store for me will be, regardless of what I do or don’t do.

An Incomplete List of Things I Wish I’d Completed…

Its my personal belief that I’m a very intelligent and talented person. Always have been. My problem is that I’ve never focused on anything long enough to master it or sometimes even complete it. For that reason, I’m willing to bet that this post won’t reach its final destination.

1. Ballet/Tap.

I’m convinced that this is where my habit of leaving things incomplete began. I’m not sure how long I went to ballet/tap rehearsals before I dropped out, but I do know I never made it to my first recital. In my defense, my mother went back to work and was unable to continue to take me to rehearsals, so I couldn’t do it anymore. Although I’d considered it, I’ll probably never pick up either again. But I’ll never forget my shuffle-shuffle-tap combo.

2. Drums.

Most kids get to an age where they want to start experimenting with instruments if their parents haven’t forced them to already. I considered the alto sax, piano, and clarinet. I learned how to play Sweet Jesus on the piano, then landed on drums. I’d like to think that I was just that out of the ordinary as a 10-year old girl, but truth be told, I wanted to play because my brother wanted to play. So, my parents bought us a great set complete with a hi-hat, snare, 2 toms, floor tom, and 2 cymbals. Needless to say, it was pretty hot. We even had lessons. I learned how to do a few basic beats, learned how to read music, and even got some practice in at church. Sure, with any instrument, you have to practice to achieve mastery. But with the drums, you’re using 2 hands, 2 feet, all while trying to stay on beat. This lasted for about 4 months before I gave it up. Practice was one reason, but the girl drummer doesn’t get as much show time at church as the actual grown-up and teenage boy drummers. So I said screw it and started sewing.

3. Sewing.

Now this is something that I never followed through with but will probably pick up again in the very near future. Sewing has got to be one of the easiest things to excel in. You have a machine, scissors (not just any scissors, specifically fabric scissors), and a pattern? Boom! You’ve got a fly ass dress! I used to make clothes, window treatments, doll clothes, pot holders, pillow cases, placemats, and the list goes on. If it’s made of fabric, I can make it.  I didn’t have just any SINGER machine, I had a serger. You know how you get that cool as loopy design at the hem of your garment? Serger, son.

4. Cheerleading.

Not only was I a cheerleader, but I was the tallest, biggest, strongest, and the only Black chick on the squad. Talk about standing out. Now when I say big and strong, I was 5’10”, and weighed a cool ass buck-twenty five. Soaking wet. Apparently when you wear a size 6, you’re the big girl on the squad. I said all that to say that even though I tried to blend in, I couldn’t, so whatever I did, EVERYONE noticed. With that said, I made it my mission to be a good ass cheerleader. I always got to do the cool ass Bring it On Style stunts, danced the best, and became a staple for anyone needing to be thrown 25 feet in the air. I quit after my second year because I had to buckle down to focus on getting into college. For me, this meant trading in my 6am practice for an extra language course. Had I known that I was going to the nigga school that is Howard University that accepted me without an admissions essay, I would’ve stuck with cheerleading.

5. Drama.

Quitting drama is probably one of my biggest regrets in life so far. I absolutely loved theater, and was pretty damn good at it. Like REALLY good at it. I could go into a rant of how talented I am, but anyone who knows me in real life knows that I’m a pretty foolish character. Let’s just say that this translates into EXCELLENCE in an organized thespian setting. You know how moms have intuition when it comes to which areas in life you should consider more than others? Well my mom thought I should either be an actress, lawyer, or special needs teacher. Mama knows best.

6. Crochet.

This is a craft I picked up in college. I used to sit as a lobby monitor in one of the male freshman dorms, which can get to be pretty freakin boring. So, whenI wasn’t doing homework, watching the 4 channels on the 13″ TV, or talking to the residents who lingered around my desk, I was crocheting. I started an afghan that later turned into a long ass scarf, a scarf that later turned into a potholder, and a bunch of pieces with different designs and patterns that would one day be used for some other project. Not only does crocheting demand rigorous consistency in tension, but it demands a great deal of patience. Patience is a virtue I have yet to master. But one day, I’m going to finish all of the projects of soft yarn that I set out to finish 5 years ago.

7. Veganism.

Changing my lifestyle was the easy part. Trying to afford all of the non-animal/animal bi-products is a hard pill to swallow. This is something I haven’t completely given up on, but can’t fully commit to until I am in a different stage of my life. First, I tried vegetarianism, then realized that vegetarianism doesn’t make any damn sense. Especially for the ones who still eat seafood. What the fuck is that? To all of my vegetarian brothers and sisters in the world, I leave these three words: Read a book. Thank you.

8. Photo albuming.

The summer before I left for school, I bought a photo album, and made it my new project to put all of my loose photos into an album in (somewhat) sequential order. As it was my last summer at home with my friends and my last opportunity to cut up the way that only we could, I didn;t have much time for anything other than trips to Six Flags, partying, $1 movies, and church. So, I decided to take it with me to school to finish when I got homesick. I never got homesick. 7 years later, I still have yet to put one damn picture in that album. In fact, when I moved to Silver Spring last weekend, I made sure to put everything in a bag with the things I’d have to access regularly, just so I’ll force myself to feel bad for procrastinating.

9. Photography.

Another hobby I wish I would’ve kept up with. I became very fond of photography in high school, and even considered going to a College of Photography. Then I remembered that trade school was like Devry. Everyone ACTS like they’re so proud that you’re doing something with your life, when they’re relly rolling their eyes at your shortcomings. And by shortcomings, I mean your poor selection of post-high school studies. So, I decided I’d just buy a fly ass camera, and take a couple photography classes when I got to Howard. Little did I know, when you major in International Business, there’s no room in your scheme to blow your nose, let alone take a class outside of your major.

10. Exercise.

A never ending battle between my mind, appetite, and my skinny genes.


(Disclaimer: I don’t mean ho in a disrespectful way. I just use the term as a general statement for bitches whose names I don’t know individually.)

I wanted to expose the truth about people when it comes to showing hospitality to their hoes. When I say hoes, I’m not referring to the loose or promiscuous, I’m referring to the one that you’re neither committed nor obligated to,  just someone who provides good every now and then sex. Hoes. In my 25 years, I’ve observed a lot about human behavior when it comes to matters of the ho. So, I decided to disclose what I’ve gathered about hoes at the house.

1. Ho shorts.

It first came to my attention that there was such a thing as ho shorts when I noticed that every time I’d go visit my friend, he’d offer me the same shorts to sleep in. Every time. We weren’t in a relationship, so I knew I couldn’t have been the only one he’d invite over, which means I also wasn’t the only one wearing that same pair of basketball shorts when it was time for bed. Not just any basketball shorts. Either the YMCA summer league shorts, the organized team practice shorts, or the ones that were just too short and gay for him anymore. I’ve demanded to wear a different pair on several occassions because I recognized what was going on. I want them Jordan shorts! The extra long ones! Little does he know, that when he comes over, he’s also subject to the ho shorts. The female version of ho shorts that she shares with her guest usually ends up being ho shorts she never gave back, or her ex-boyfriend’s old shorts.

2. Ho towels.

My roommate recently brought this to my attention, as I didn’t know there was such a thing as a ho towel. He tells me that the ho towels are all white, usually stolen from hotels. She’s always gonna get the ho towel for 2 reasons: 1) She’s a ho, and therefore not allowed to dry herself on the same towels that he uses to dry his precious body. 2) White towels allow you to see how clean that ho is. I’ve never been given the ho towel, because I have no desire to bathe at an almost stranger’s house. And my body wash smells better than your Old Spice/Axe.

3. Ho side of the bed.

A true ho is never allowed to choose which side of the bed he/she wants to sleep on. I’m sleeping closest to the door. Every time. He has his reasons for choosing the side she’s not permitted to sleep on. And it never changes unless you happen to be lying in the forbidden spot in your birthday suit. At his house anyway. I don’t want your naked genitalia anywhere near my side of the bed.

4. Ho liquor.

Most men invite you over because they want to have sex. Most men would invite me over and would have a bottle of Ciroc waiting because I have OUTSTANDING drunk-off-Ciroc-sex. A repeat guest will always have his/her liquor of choice waiting. A boredom booty call gets water. From the sink.

5. Ho activities.

If you’re the chosen ho for the night and you end up at your friend’s house, you better believe you’re doing ho activities (with ho tendencies 🙂 ) that night. Ho activities include everything that the host wants to do, whether the ho enjoys them or not. This includes choice of TV channel, movies, bedtime, food, video games, etc. The ho’s job is to nod and smile and perform his or her ho duty for the evening. The ho is not there for his or her own entertainment or enjoyment. That ho ought to know a ho’s place.

Mid-Year’s Resolutions

That’s right. Mid-year. I pride myself on being someone that’s ever-changing, ever-growing, and ever-evolving. I consider myself to be a balls to the wall, jump off the cliff and hope you can fly kind of gal. Needless to say, I’m a risk-taker. However, I don’t feel like I’ve grown, changed, or taken any risks in 2010, and frankly, I don’t like it. So, I’m pledging to do some things before the year ends and I’m left wondering what I could have been doing for the past 52 weeks of my life.

1. I will buy a condo.

2. I will choose a career?

3. I will attempt to finish old projects.

4. I will venture into new projects.

5. I will quit my damn job. Again.

6. I will wear matching underwear at least 4 days out of the week.

7. I will let my dog get some (Pit bull puppies for sale! Holla at a playa when you see me in the streets!)

8. I will stop drinking like a fish and cursing like a sailor.

9. I will finally get the hell in shape and work to make my body look like Ciara’s. Little booty and all.

10. I will make my bed. Every day. At least once a week.

11. I will commit to a dietary lifestyle and stick to it.

12. I will cook new things and cook more often.

13. I will read my Bible more and do more general research on various subject matter.

14. I will check my voicemail and return calls.

15. I will always keep in mind that I am the exception to the rule.

16. I will go to church at least once a week.

17. I will wrap my hair EVERY night.

18. I will take better care of my car.

19. I will save some money.

20. I will be nice(r).

22. I will volunteer.

23. I will take trips.

24. I will stop insulting the Africans, gays, greek fraternities/sororities, Mexicans, and ugly babies.

25. I will devote time every week to work on the muscles that are gonna make me the Michael Jordan of sex (It’s a shame that women can do this and don’t. I bet men would do dick-lunges if they thought it would make them better). 

26. I will pay off at least one bill every month.

27. I will take more pictures.

28. I will not buy shoes every time I get paid, no matter how fabulous or on sale they are.

29. I will write letters.

30. I will laugh as much as I can and love as much as I can.