Random Negro Stories File: Part One

Happy New Year Everybody! I know I took two months off from the blog scene. I’d like to say it was because I was traumatized by the collection of random Negro stories that I’m about to share with you, but really it’s just cuz I was lazy. Still enjoy and feel free to write your local Congressman to demand blogger work requirements. I know I would. (Insert smile here)

And now off to the random Negro stories:

Pre-Game Fiance: Around mid-October I met this guy at a lounge at a Wednesday night happy hour. He seemed cool enough, so I gave him the digits. We emailed and talked on the phone a few times but a couple days into our “talking” he sends me a text at like 9 o’clock on a Saturday morning asking me to make him pancakes. When I declined he wrote back asking me to marry him and move to Africa, so long as we could get back to D.C. in time to see the Redskins on Sunday. UMMMM WOW!!!

The Sixth Heartbeat: Every time I put a new pic up on myspace, the random Negro friend requests increase three-fold. One of the more interesting requests came from a guy that kept referring to himself as “Eddie King.” Yes the fictitious 60s singer from the Robert Townsend flick. Old boy was asking me when I was gonna be “ready to come hang with old eddie king and show him what u workin an twurkin with sometime.” I humored him for a few messages, but once he said, “you can’t hang with Eddie King” I decided that he meant the Eddie King after the crack addiction and kept it moving.

Keep it in the Family: So apparently TGI Fridays is becoming one of my favorite spots. This random Negro story is brought to you by an escapade happened at the one in Laurel So I’m with my girl and there are two guys and a girl seat not too far down the bar from us. Somehow we end up taking shots of tequila with them (on their dime). We find out that they’re Howard Alum, but from waaaay back in the day. So of course you know that means that one of them wanted to talk to me, b/c the only men that try to holla at me are either A. Old, B. African, or C. have two or more kids. It turns out that this guy is two out of the three. Still we end up at some other bar, where they are playing music and what not. I politely tell him that he’s too old for me and focus my attention elsewhere. Later on my friend tells me that he told her that he wanted to hook me up with his son who is actually my age. Yea….interesting.

Little Jack Horner: So I was in ATL kicking it with my family for the holidays. One of my boys hits me up about going to a party a dude we knew from high school was throwing Christmas night. I end up dragging my friend, who drove up to spend the holiday with me and my crazy family, along. We got there way too early and the party was dead. It started to get a lil better as the night wore on and our goose and cranberry started to settle in. Tell me why there was this dude dressed like Tyrone Biggums who was trying to dance with me. I wasn’t in the mood. I just wanted to chill and not sweat my perm out. This bamma hooks his finger into the belt loop on the back of my jeans trying to pull me closer to him. When I move to unhook him from me, he’s like come on shawty..why you gotta be like that…at least I didn’t grab yo ass. I’m like gee so you apparently because he put in his thumb, but didn’t pulled out a plum (i.e. my ass) I was supposed to say oh what a good boy. Thanks for clearing that up.