Smell this one

Forgive me Father, it has been 11 days since my last blog. I know I should have written earlier but you know, you really need to lay off my ass, because some people have really, really important shit to do in their lives. Things like watching last night's Real Housewives of Atlanta on DVR and also watching "how to apply smoky eye makeup" videos on You Tube. I AM A BUSY WOMAN. I don't have time for this shit.
Ok, so this is not related to anything interesting, but can I give a shout out to my damn Fall wardrobe? What the hell, it's almost Halloween. Hello, tall boots. Hello, skinny jeans. Goodbye, frigging tank tops and shorts. Kiss my ass.
I watched last night's Real Housewives of ATL tonight. I just love NeNe. She is the most fabulous woman ever. Was anyone else surprised that her mom's vacation home in Athens was so palatial? I mean, wasn't NeNe a skripper?
Oh, story time. A few years ago, I don't even remember when but I'm pretty sure it was after the birth of my first child in 2005, I was teaching school. Well, I was working in a school. I wasn't teaching shit, which is a big reason why I quit that bitch. Anyway, I had some tall boots on. Right below the knee, no heel. I must have been wearing them with a skirt. I'm 90% sure that I was. I went to talk to a friend of mine, a fellow teacher, he was about my dad's age or so. I'm married, he's old. Well apparently while I was talking to him, I put my knee or leg up on the chair? And we talked a while about random shit, then I left. Well, the kids lost their minds, I found out later. Granted, they weren't really "kids" per se. They were disabled adults. But they all called me a stripper when I left, and they sang that song "I'm in Love with a Skripper" to my friend. Yes, I am a sessy beast. The hilarious part about it is, I always made such, such an effort to make sure there was nothing remotely sessy about what I wore to work when I was teaching. They still talk about that day. I must admit, I've never been mistaken for a skripper before.
Also, I should tell you, my friend wears a really bad toupee. Like really bad. I was not in love.
I hope I didn't write this here before, but it's on my mind. When I was in third grade, I was at the book shelf after a test (today that would be called the library center) and I was all bent over looking at some books. I sharted in my pants. I farted really badly, and everyone heard and smelt it. And what did I do? I blamed it on the poor, black girl from the projects. Jamelia Dixon. I said "Eww, Jamelia did that". And to this day, everyone thinks that Jamelia dealt it, but the truth is...
bitches, it was me.