whats wrong with the world today (part one)

yo world, i got beef yo.

Shoelaces: who ever decided these were a step up from velcro? i mean seriously, you cannot find an adult pair of velcro shoes (unless you are shopping at a special needs store-wait, do they have those?…), and why? they are secure, they last,they’re  much easier and faster to secure and don’t fall out. so why did we decide that being able to tie a set of laces was some sort of right of passage we weren’t allowed to digress from? i see velcro as a vast improvement over laces, so why hell are we so dead set on them?  except for the spirally kind, yall remember those?

turns out they do have special needs stores! velcro here i come : )

Serving sizes: Dear FDA, please be more realistic when setting serving size standards. in case you didn’t notice, you are dealing with emotional women and Americans. and no one ever eats just 10 potato chips, so it would be nice to know that i am about to consume 6 servings at once BEFORE i wipe the tears from my eyes and down a pint of ben and jerry’s.  smooches, Tafreaks.

or better yet, how bout one serving equals when i put the bag/tub/carton down? if God could make THAT happen i just might start going back to church, holla!

Ketchup packets: ketchup was invented by Henry John Heintz in 1876. is it too much to ask  after 135 years to get a bigger effing ketchup packet? i mean seriously, raise your hand if you use one packet of ketchup with a meal.  that’s what i thought, so why do they keep making them bitches so damn small? don’t they know greasy fry hands are not conducent to opening additional slick foil packets? do they like it when i resort to gnawing at it like some  rabid animal to get at their sweet tomatoey nectur?  hey Heintzendorfer, triple the f*cking packet size and save me some grief here, i’m trying to woof down one serving of vat fried spuds, thanks.

War: (duh)

our body’s design: does anyone else besides me find it fascinating and a bit unfair that you can get heartburn from wine,  muscle cramps when you sleep, and migraines for no reason at all (other then apparently you are carrying bad ju-ju for talking shit about that chick you work with) but you can literally drop dead in 24 hours or have stage 3 cancer with no symptoms at all? how the hell does that work? what is wrong with our bodies that we get pain signals from stress, food, air, light, heat, cold, sex, and in-laws, but nothing at all when our bodies need attention the most?  not only are we destined for death, apparently we want to die.

you know you didn't have any business calling her a slut, but ya did it anyways.

customer service: everyone knows the worst jobs are not in the local waste management facility, its in the cubicle. the next time you see him, ask your local garbage man if he’d trade his job in to go and work for the DMV.  odds are he’ll throw a bag of dead rats at you and tell you to piss off. cause even he knows the only thing worse then literally taking people’s shit, is taking it figuratively, and that doesn’t happen much in nature. your garbage worker is wise, wise man. PSA: quit bitching about desk jockey’s. you know why we aren’t all cheery and happy to help you? because we hate you, and ya know why that is? cause you’re an asshole. you demands are ridiculous, you want everything right now and if your technologically-retarded ass would quit bitching and looked on the website, you would have found the answer to your inquiry as well as life itself and we wouldn’t need this interaction.and if you happen to be the genuinely nice person who calls once a day and isn’t a complete artard then be aware the guy before you sure was so cut us some damn slack. we’ve gained 20lbs since we started working at this recycled air clinic, we sit way too close to someone who should shower more, and the creepy facilities guy blatantly looks at our cleavage (or dicks) when we talk to him. have some compassion!

inflation: okay seriously, why the shit does inflation exist? i don’t give me the economical breakdown either. do you know how depressing it is to get half the raise you were expecting, even though you kissed enough ass to make a mona lisa out of pubic  hairs? then you find that said raise does not even keep you in line with cost of living? oh, and medical insurance is going up too, fyi. can i get some lube next time, economy? don’t even get me started on gas prices. anyone who was born before 1993 remembers when gas was just .99 a gallon, and were those ever the days! that will be what we talk to our grandkids about, not the cost of bread being 5 cents, eff bread! although i suppose by then well all be driving cars fueled by the bodies of stray pets, and anyone who travelled to the future would have thought we switched our currency to the yen since bread will be $2000 in the year 2060.

Those aliens are…happy.

My son Zae (6), is a fabulous artist i must say. he can draw some pretty complex characters from memory and include some realy in depth detail if its something  he is passionate about. but when he drew a redition of HR Geiger’s aliens, they needed a bit of…ehem, interpretation.

lets see, we have a long heads with curvature for effect, both arms and legs, a big ol’ mandingo-wait, what?!? yeah, those are tails…really happily placed alien tales.  and actually, the little yellow blob is a facehugger which i thought was a nice touch.

p.s my lovely mother let the boys watch aliens, def not something i approved of, and of course they love it.


one unexpected aspect of parenting is the art of trying to explain things to children that are unintentionally unexplainable in laymans terms. i think every parent expects to explain death, the birds and the bees, religion etc. but damn you pop music for for introducing these crazy concepts to kids! a mild example would be this morning:

on the drive to work, the boys and i are rockin to Katie Perry’s “california girls” and in a line she explains she is going to give her love interest (namely, snoop dogg) a “Sneak peak” of her golden girls. and jordan says:

“mom, what is a “sneak-peak?”

hmmm, i thought to myself. i sneak peek is a fairly simple concept, but hard to explain.

” a sneak peek is when you get to see something for the first time, but only for a little bit” i held out my hand in a fist “if i held a brand new toy car in my hand and i opened it and showed it to you, then closed my hand back up, then that would be a sneak peek. do you understand?”

“yeah” said jordan, “but what does it look like?”

“what does what look like?”

“the sneak peek”

isaiah, matter of factly : “it looks like your fist jordan”


My Spider Story

so it’s about 10 pm, and i raise from the couch and into my bedroom with sweet thoughts of slumberland, when as i approach the bed, i see a monster spider slowly descending from the ceiling to the floor. my droopy eyes lift into action, clinch my fists and i silently mutter “not in my house a$$hole”

let me stop for a second and note: i am a lover of animals, and i try my hardest not to kill spiders who drop in to say hello. “perhaps they are lost”  i think to myself, “and only looking for directions. i can certainly get them back where they belong.” so i scoop them up and sent them on their way. but ain’t no spider lost all the way in my master suite yall. this spider meant war.

so i run to the closet and grab a shoe, while screaming at Roger that there was a spider in our love nest. i go over and smack the spider a few times with the shoe till he curls up like a little bitch to die, but then after a few seconds he unrolls himself and gives me 8 fingers and tries to crawl away, so i smash him again, and again. each time he gets up and walks it off. WTF megaspider?!?

“Roger! i can’t kill it!! he wants to eat the children!! get a damn tissue before he gets away!!!” more smashing with the shoe. this was like, the chuck norris of spiders taunting me with his adimantium spider shell. all i could do was keep smashing him to keep him in one spot till my knight in shining Roger should appear. he strides in triumphantly with the tissue and scoops him up, then deposits him in the toilet. crisis averted-for now. i’m sure that fuck could swim, we’ll meet again sir.

i slept on the couch till raj went to bed (cause yeah, there aren’t any spiders in there right? )

Zaedanisms (jordan and zae isms)

So we are brushing our teeth yesterday morning, and Jordan says to me:

“mom, you are beeeeeeautiful!”

me: “well thanks!”
Joran: “but since you are getting so old, you should really take care of yourself.”
Isaiah: “yeah, so you don’t DIE”

Me: “oh geez”

Guilty Pleasures

Everyone has them, those lil secrets that we just can’t help but love, but keep to ourselves for fear of having the mickey taken out of us. well i’m not scurred,  i’ll let yall in on the things i dare to love! Here is Tameaka’s list of guilty pleasures:

1. Granny panties: two words: fucking comfy. and practical, hello?!  maybe i don’t get the ones that engulf me up to my belly button (and then again, maybe i do) but the older i get, the more i realise what a dumb (MAN made) invention the thong is.  they are uncomfortable, they cost more (for less?), they’re impossible to find in the clean laundry bin, and they were created for strippers, so how come i am wearing them to my corporate office? so what, you don’t see my panty line? not worth it.  i hear ya now guys, full cover panites?gross! thongs are seeeexy. but really, they leave little to the imagination boys. i’d say a pair of ruffled cheekies beats out the thong hands down for “drool over my sweet ass” factor. i’m all about comfort myself.*

2. Trendy pop music:  i’ve got beiber fever, i’m gaga over gaga, and kesha’s killer. i may not respect them, but boy do they make a catchy tune. i’d love to sit here and say i’m above all the senseless crap music that’s being made these days  by a bunch of  guys who look like girls and vice versa, but hell…i love it.  please kesha, keep rockin my ear drums with the sweet melodies of you “singing” about being a total skank. beiber, continue to swoon me with your prepubescent love songs, and gaga, well gaga is just a music genius lets face it.  anyone who speaks directly to the gay community is a winner in my book.

3. spooning my dog:  just for the record, i am the big spoon, not the little one.  its really just like hugging a warm breathing stuffed animal…that snores. i dunno, maybe i’m weird, but its just nice to come home on a cold day, lay on the floor in front of the heater and spoon the dog. its funny, i thought i was being totally normal, bonding with my pet till raj came home one day and “found us.”  he looks at me and says ” um, do you always spoon the dog like that? ” and i sheepishly looked up and said “well yeah.” it was one of those, ‘oh that’s not normal huh’, kinda moments.

4. Jersey Shore: so what if Snookie makes more in two episodes then my son’s kindergarten teacher gets in an entire year? fist pump baby! for a long time i was super against reality TV, but who knew a train wreck was so damn entertaining! Jersey shore had me at gym, tan, laundry, and its a gateway drug! i’ve graduated to the real housewives of atlanta. (guilty pleasure #4.1)

5.Gingers:  pale skin+copious amounts of freckles+fire crotch= one smitten black kitten. and i’m not just talkin about MY ginger, i love all gingers! They are so damn artsy looking and weird.  what i kinda picture is those are the babies that come out when god sneezes and doesn’t cover his mouth. plus, you gotta love anyone who takes the pressure off black folks at being the least liked race of individuals for a few years, its like ginger is the new black! but on the real tip, gingers are not as soulless as they seem. don’t knock it till you try it right?

*i am a hypocrite, half my undies are thongs. goddamit i’m trendy okay!

>The McWTF

>i’m not a huge fan of Mcdonalds, never have been, but every once and awhile convenience trumps standards and ya gotta go with what’s available. so a few days ago i find myself at the local Mc-e-deez to grab a late night dinner. now i never expect much when i go there to eat, and i realise no one working there is striving for top notch service and exceeding expectations, but do expect that when i order a cheeseburger, which has 3 main ingredients i fully expect all 3 to be present. this is what i think happened:

17 years old pothead/over 40 fuck up alcoholic mcdonalds worker:

so lets see here, we have the Mcbun, the mccheese, and the mcmeat. but since i mchate my life, lets just give these pleasant and oddly attractive paying customers the big mcfuck you, and leave off the mcmeat. yeah, take that successful youth in the sweet mitsubishi lancer!

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