The Traveling Companion

I'M BACK

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Sat, 14 Jun 2008 19:40:00 +0000

Thank Jesus. I'll post on Monday, but really there isn't much to say, other than I couldn't post on here for some reason, not even in the comments section, so I had to forward emails over to Penee to have her post for me. Although, I do see that there are 3 comments missing from me on here.
I never got to Louis Vuitton on my free day, BUT I had great sex with a sexy man staying at the same hotel as I. I met him while at the restaurant. LORD I am a slut. lol It was the best sex I have EVER had in my life. It was so good I can't wait to see him again. It was so good if he asked me to marry him I would've right then and there. We took a bubble bath together and everything, it was so nice until 8 pm came when I turned in to a pumpkin and had to return to my room. Blah!!!!!

Tomorrow is Father's Day and I'll be with my daddy. I Tivo The Phantom Gourmet (a Boston based show) that tells us the best restaurants in the New England area, so I'm trying out one of those places tomorrow.

Now for the squeamish don't read this. Why does my vagina smell like vinegar? I'm serious it smells like vinegar. YUCK. Is it from all of the salads I ate with dressing? Who knows, but if it doesn't go away by Tuesday I'm heading to the doctors. Oh, I did douche this morning. I knew I shouldn't have done that. What do you think it is? Of course I used a condom with the Paris guy, so it's not an std.

What else? Oh, I dropped my phone in a cup of water, so now I can't use my cell and Sprint has to order me a new phone and it won't be in until Tuesday. BASTARDS. Thank goodness I am smart enough to back up my data.

I'm watching Casino. I love this movie. I can watch it over and over again.

I freaking missed the Celtics come back the other night. They were down 24 points and came back to win the game. Holy Shit! I am so pissed! GO CELTICS! I can't stand Paul Pierce, but I do like KG and Ray Allen and they all deserve a ring so GO C's.

So, when I was with Mr. Great fuck he was laughing at my Boston lingo, so I decided to write a list of things that only Bostonians know of or say.

American Chop Suey: YUMMY. It's elbow macaroni with ground beef, onions and peppers with red sauce (gravy). It's also known as goulash.

Forget about it: I don't think so or not a chance

Packie: The liquor store

GINO: When the celtics win, he comes up on the jumbo and we all go crazy dancing. You can youtube Gino

(My favorite) Are you shitting me?: Are you serious?

Lobstah: lobster

Wicked: really good

PISSAH: great!

I'm Bullshit: Really mad

Jimmies: Sprinkles on top of your ice cream

Frappe: milkshake

Dungarees: blue jeans

Bureau: dresser for clothing

Parlor: dining room

Bang a u-ey: make a U-turn

Holy Shit: Oh my goodness

Tonic: soda

And whatevah you do, don't use your R's
Where am I from? BAAAHSTON lol

GO CELTICS!

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 18:14:00 +0000

I'm going to the game tonight with Raquel. Her athlete boyfriend gave her tickets and she decided to take me. LUCKY ME. Quick question. Why is my team so ugly? It hurts my eyes looking at them. Eddie House could get it though, he is FINE. What is with me and the young boys this week?

WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 14:14:00 +0000

GINO WAS OUT LAST NIGHT. The streets of Boston were filled with Celtics pride. People of all ages, races and gender were hanging out of their cars like we were in LA, bumping their music at full blast, beeping their horns and screaming "we won!". It was a sight to be seen. We brought another title back to Boston and sent the Lakers with their b*tch ass leader Kobe back to LA. A message to Kobe: Kobe you can't win without Shaq, you thought you were the man and made an ultimatum and you got your way Shaq left and went to Miami and guess what? He won, WITHOUT YOU. This year you made it, but you loss because b*tch assness never get rewarded. Oh and one more thing Kobe, do me a favor tell you wife to A. sit the hell down some where and B. hire a stylist because her outfits hurt my eyes more than Paul Pierce's acne. Back to the winners. I know Red Auerbach is definitely smiling down and proud of this team. We have 3 of the best who came together UNSELFISHLY and decided that they wanted to win a title MORE than being individual stars. There is no I in Team, even I remember that from my track and field days.

The Cuban Wedding

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Mon, 23 Jun 2008 04:06:00 +0000

Over the weekend I attended a wedding with one of my clients, we will call him Mr. Cuba. When I’m with Mr. Cuba we look like an actual couple because he is handsome, refined and Latino and we are very comfortable with one another. I received a last minute request to be his wedding date earlier last week. My guess is he had plans on taking someone other than myself, but got stuck alone and needed someone convincing to take his original guests place. I am a great stand in if I may say so myself because I can talk to anyone about anything at anytime and I’m well rounded and most importantly in this case I am Cuban. So, while I pat myself on the back at how refined, brilliant and articulate I am, lets remember that I am also an occasional klutz, I speak my mind and I speak limited and I mean very limited Spanish. Ok, so now that you have the background, let me add in a few other details. Cuban weddings are unlike any other wedding. You can be dirt poor as a Cuban and you will have a huge wedding with every cousin, uncle and associate invited. There is more food than your eyes and especially my eyes should see and the music is also phenomenal with a live Salsa band. Everyone gets dressed to the nines with their tight, bright sexy clothing and they are ready to PARTY. A Cuban wedding is best described as a party with lots of food and liquor. Although most of the attendees speak English no one does, except to me and even though I couldn’t understand what they were saying to me in Spanish the look in their eyes said it all. They were wondering what kind of parents I had that didn’t insist of speaking Spanish in the home. lol I just love being Hispanic. Anyway, I learned ONLY AFTER I accepted the date that I would also be a bridesmaid. Hold on! What? Yes, you heard me correctly I was going to be a bridesmaid to a complete stranger. That is why I was so pissed in the comments section last week because it made no sense. According to Mr. Cubano the bride got in to a huge fight with one of her bridesmaids and needed a replacement quick, so instead of being normal and asking one of her cousins or girlfriends to take her place she asked Mr. Cuba if his girlfriend would be in the wedding. So, that is how I got involved in this mess.

A day later I received a phone call from Jaslene (the bride) asking for my measurements. I had no clue, so I told her I was a size 12, which in bridal wear means a bloody 14. FAT COW. She actually gasped. I heard that bitch GASP. She said apologetically “ok, mamita I will order your dress larger and we will take it in. Thank you for agreeing to do this”. Then she broke out with the Spanish and I responded in Spanish that I don’t speak it very well even though I am Cuban. GASP. I’m sorry, but if this bitch didn’t stop gasping I was going to kick her ass down the aisle. She apologized for assuming I spoke Spanish and said that I needed to be in (can’t say location because I already told too many people I was going out of town) on Friday morning to get ready and be a part of all of the festivities. Here is the kicker Mr. Cuba wasn’t even going to be in town until Saturday NIGHT, so I went to the anonymous location to meet complete strangers to be part of a wedding for a bride I had never met. Boy was I aggravated. I do not like surprises unless they are in gift boxes.

Friday at 10 AM I arrived at the anonymous destination and I was met by 6 very excited, extremely animated (and I’m animated so I know what I speak of) Latinas. They spotted me immediately, as I already informed the bride of my attire (blue jeans, white tank top, red cardigan (over the shoulders) and my FABULOUS red Campari’s (Manolo Blahnik’s)). They were screaming “OMG you are so cute” another “Thank God because we didn’t know what to expect” “You don’t look like a size 12” “Are you sure you don’t speak Spanish?” “Do you drink?”. I was thinking yes, bitches I drink and right about now I need a bottle. We jumped in the brides Escalade and ended up at an exquisite bridal boutique. Now I was excited. Even though I am strictly against marriage I do love to dress up and if I am to partake in anything resembling a wedding I shall be wearing either a Monique Lhuillier or a Vera Wang ensemble and that’s that. I saw my dress and it took my breath away. This bride had excellent taste and it fit me perfectly and guess what? I wasn’t a 14 in it. Thank god. The dress was so beautiful that I will be wearing it on dates. I was in a great mood now and I had my champagne too, so you know I was happy.

Us gals then went to lunch and had a few more drinks. The women were educated, smart, gorgeous and classy, not that I expected anything less from my date, but you never know in these situations. After lunch they dropped me off at my hotel and picked me up later in the evening to get ready for the bachelorette party. YIPPY, a bitch (that would be me) loves bachelorette parties, except I forgot that I am suppose to have a boyfriend (my date) and so I couldn’t get buck wild (or so I thought). Oh yeah because my real life so-called “boyfriend” and I broke up before I flew out of town over nonsense. Excuse me, but just because I have seen you TWICE and screwed you once for a WHOLE 5 MINUTES does not mean we are in a relationship. Yes ladies 5 minutes and you think I want to keep you around negro (FYI I can say this word you can't)? BOY BYE get the f*ck out of here! Whatever, ok let me get back on topic you know me and my adult ADD.

The bachelorette party was off the hook (wild) male strippers (which do absolutely nothing for me), tons of booze (Boston term: alcohol) male hookers, now that was a first for me. I have never in my life come across a straight male hooker and these men were FINE. I almost asked to exchange services with “Darryl” YUMMY, but I behaved myself and did NOTHING. After the girls were finished getting sucked and fucked we went to the club and Lord have mercy did the party go to a whole other level. When Usher said “I wanna make love in the club” I had no idea people actually took it literally. These bitches were f*cking in the club, even the BRIDE with strangers. Yes, I know I am judgmental as hell, but really sex in the club?

I woke up the next AFTERNOON with a splitting headache and nauseous. I had room service send up a greasy cheeseburger with fries a side of mayo and ketchup with a bottle of champagne to wash it all down. Shut up, I needed the champagne to even me out a bit. As I was stuffing my face with my burger while in the bed the house line (hotel phone) rang. It was Mr. Cuba informing me that he arrived early and was on his way to my room in a few minutes. WHAT? I jumped up spilled my champagne all over the bed while the burger fell to the ground, tripped over my shoes that were left beside my bed from the night before, damn near sprained my thumb AGAIN (oh I forgot to tell you about that) while trying to take a military shower (10 seconds), got out the shower and didn’t put down the mat and slipped nearly breaking my neck while reaching for my robe, unwrapped my hair (no matter what time I get in or how drunk I am I NEVER forget to wrap my hair) threw on my bathrobe and there it was the knock on the door. F*CK I forgot to brush my teeth.

Shortly after Mr. Cuba arrived I was summoned by the bride to partake in more bridal party duties, as well as the run through of the ceremony and then we had the dinner. I must tell you I was having one hell of a time. I actually believed for a moment that Mr. Cuba was my boyfriend and these people were going to my friends for life. I mean I am in their wedding photos. So, do you think it will be all right if I continued to speak to everyone? Probably not huh? The party didn’t end until 1am and I had an 8am wakeup call for an 11am wedding. I was exhausted and Mr. Cuba said he really enjoyed watching me interact with everyone and was amazed at how comfortable I was. Who wouldn’t be comfortable? Besides the language barrier I was eating and drinking two of my favorite pastimes. HELLO I was like a pig in shit. Oink Oink.

So, you know wherever I am drama follows me right? Lets start with the walk down the aisle. Why did I trip? Yes, I tripped over NOTHING. I literally tripped and almost landed on the f*cking floor. God was punishing me for being a whore in his house. I regained my composure and continued down the aisle with my BEAT RED (think lobster) face. Oh, it only gets better from there. At the reception everyone was dancing their asses off including myself and they were drunk as a skunk (Bostonian lingo again), including Mr. Cuba. Well he starts to spin me, mind you I have no control over how many times I get spun because he is the man and I follow his lead (when dancing). This bastard spun me across the floor like I was in the movie (start at :054) Salsa and we were trying to clear the floor for the prized trip to Puerto Rico. It was insane. So, I’m spinning and spinning thinking I am a hot shit and then he lets go of me and what do I go FLYING in to? Here’s the part if I had a sitcom where I would turn to the camera and say “Are you ready for this?” The F*CKING CAKE. Yes, the cake. I ruined the wedding cake and it wasn’t even my fault, but of course I was already known as the bridesmaid tripper. I had cake all over the back of my dress and my HAIR. Thank god the cake was only a centerpiece and each guest had a mini replica or I may have rightfully been stoned to death. Why the f*ck was the cake so close to dance floor anyway? Everyone laughed and had fun with it even the bride thought it was funny. If that would’ve been me I would have kicked my ass. I was MORTIFIED and pissed off at Mr. Cuba. It was his fault I went straight in to the cake. I am a complete disaster. Can you believe people pay a lot of money to hang out with me? I wouldn’t. I’m a f*cking mess. Keep me away from all precious cargo. Could you imagine if they had a camcorder in my room watching me slip, trip and fall all over the hotel room the day before? Can we say NIGHTMARE?

Listening to the wedding vows about what is important to them got me thinking. And so I’ve come to the conclusion that the things in life that are most important are: finding a magnificent eyebrow artist who gives you movie star brows and charges $50 a pop, a fabulous colorist who makes you look like a natural blonde when you were born a brunette, finding parking on Newbury street on a Saturday afternoon with no problem, getting a table at Abe & Louie’s on a Thursday evening, having good health, great friends that you can turn to day and night including the ones you make online, traveling by private jet, champagne for breakfast because you can, family you miss even when they are around and that you love so much it hurts to think of them ever leaving you. That is what is most important to me the rest is just bullshit that I can live without. These are my vows.

I have to go back to work in the morning. Have a great week.
Adios- XOXO Brunette Bombshell

Introducing my mother

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Fri, 27 Jun 2008 19:29:00 +0000

This was one of those stupid surveys people send out.

1. What time did you wake up this morning? 4:00
2. Diamonds or pearls? diamonds
3. What was the last movie you saw? It’s been while
4. What is your favorite TV show? LOST
5. What do you have for breakfast? coffee first thing in the morning
6. What is your middle name? *****
7. What is your favorite CD at the moment? Steven Winwood - 9 lives
8. What kind of car do you drive? ******
9. What's your favorite sandwich? Cheeseburger
10. What characteristic do you despise? Liars.
11. Favorite item of clothing? My Anne Klein Jacket and of course my new summer shoes
12. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go? Greece
13. Favorite brand of clothing? many
14. Where would you retire to? My bed
15. What was your most recent memorable birthday? when I turned 28, My son brought me burnt toast and OJ the next morning because he thought I had the flu...I was hung over!! He was little!!
16. Furthest place you are sending this? Boston
17. Person you expect to send it back first? don't know
18. When is your birthday? *****
19. Are you a morning person or a night person? morning
20. What is your shoe size? 8.5
21. Pets? 2 elderly-ass kitties
22. Any new and exciting news you'd like to share ? I'm looking for my summer time dick
23. What did you want to be when you were little? A NUN...THAT'S RIGHT A NUN...
24. How are you today? Broke
25. What is your favorite candy? Reese’s and Hershey's chocolate bar
26. What is your favorite flower? Daisy's
27. What is a day on the calendar you are looking forward to? The day I get laid again
28. What is your full name? ******
29. What are you listening to right now? White Noise, phones and the printer
30. What was the last thing you ate? Qtr pounder with Cheese and a small fries
31. Do you wish on stars? I did once
32. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Green or Blue
33. Last person you spoke to on the phone? Sara
34. Favorite restaurant? I like too many of them
35. Real hair color? dark brown
36. What was your favorite toy as a child? My Thumblelina doll
37. Summer or winter? summer
38. Hugs or kisses? both
39. Chocolate or Vanilla? chocolate penis, Vanilla ice cream
40. Coffee or tea? coffee
41. Do you want your friends to e-mail you back? sure
42. When was the last time you cried? Who cares when!!
43. What is under your bed? Dust Bunnies
44. What did you do last night? Read some real estate, talked on the phone, finished my laundry and watched about 10 minutes of tv
45. What are you most afraid of? Being celibate and not by choice
46. Salt or sweet? Salt
47. How many keys on your key ring? To many
48. How many years at your current job? TO MANY!!
49. Favorite day of the week? sat/sun
50. Do you make friends easily? Yes
51. Do you believe there is a God? yes I do
51. How many people will you send this to? don't know
52. How many will respond? ??

And you guys wonder where I get it from. lol Who sends answers like this to their CHILD? JESUS!

This is mine:
1. What time did you wake up this morning? 8:30
2. Diamonds or pearls? diamonds
3. What was the last movie you saw? Sex and the city
4. What is your favorite TV show? n/a
5. What do you have for breakfast? nothing
6. What is your middle name? no middle name
7. What is your favorite CD at the moment? I don't buy CD's fine Mariah
8. What kind of car do you drive? ****
9. What's your favorite sandwich? Cheeseburger
10. What characteristic do you despise? UNRELIABILITY
11. Favorite item of clothing? Donna Karen Jeans that are ripping
12. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go? Las Vegas to see Sara
13. Favorite brand of clothing? don't have one
14. Where would you retire to? Arizona
15. What was your most recent memorable birthday? I was 8 and had my LAST BIRTHDAY PARTY EVER
16. Furthest place you are sending this? Who knows it's going on my Blog
17. Person you expect to send it back first? 0
18. When is your birthday? Sept 6
19. Are you a morning person or a night person? night
20. What is your shoe size? I don't know I think a 7 ask my mom I call her every time I buy shoes.
21. Pets? hell no!
22. Any new and exciting news you'd like to share ? I'm looking for new friends because the ones I have are getting on my nerves and are not RELIABLE.
23. What did you want to be when you were little? A lawyer
24. How are you today? AGGRAVATED
25. What is your favorite candy? Reese's and Hershey's chocolate bar with ALMONDS
26. What is your favorite flower? tulips
27. What is a day on the calendar you are looking forward to? Nothing!
28. What is your full name? ****
29. What are you listening to right now? Mario Music for love. I love this song
30. What was the last thing you ate? kielbasa with onions
31. Do you wish on stars? Yes, last night I saw a shooting star and wished on it
32. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? I'd still be black
33. Last person you spoke to on the phone? Reggie
34. Favorite restaurant? Abe & Louie's (Boston and Boca Raton) and Sorellina (the best veal)
35. Real hair color? black
36. What was your favorite toy as a child? bald black babydoll. She was bald because I ripped all of her hair out and then felt bad and loved her more because she was different. I'm still that way.
37. Summer or winter? summer
38. Hugs or kisses? hugs, I don't kiss unless I have to YUCK
39. Chocolate or Vanilla? chocolate I hate vanilla
40. Coffee or tea? peppermint tea
41. Do you want your friends to e-mail you back? no, I'm sick of them
42. When was the last time you cried? Tuesday night watching so do you think u can dance. They were so good.
43. What is under your bed? a box with nothing in it
44. What did you do last night? Drove to Cambridge for chump change was aggravated and then drove home to watch Tivo.
45. What are you most afraid of? not having children
46. Salt or sweet? Sweet
47. How many keys on your key ring? To many
48. How many years at your current job? ***
49. Favorite day of the week? don't have one they are all the same
50. Do you make friends easily? Yes
51. Do you believe there is a God? yes
51. How many people will you send this to? n/a
52. How many will respond? 0

Enjoy your weekend. XOXO- Brunette Bombshell

Hi

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Tue, 08 Jul 2008 13:39:00 +0000

I haven't forgotten about you guys I've just been extremely busy getting back in to the swing of things at work and reorganizing my life. You should see my walk in closet, it is a disaster area.

Does anyone watch Despierta America on Univision? The guy on the show gets on my nerves, his voice aggravates me. They are too silly on this show, but the women wear cute clothes. Why am I watching it anyway? It's in Spanish and I don't have a clue what they are saying. lol

I'm still having nightmares, but instead of dreaming about Vanessa Bryant I'm dreaming about Ballroom dancing and wearing a dress that lifts up over my head and everyone sees my vagina because in reality I never wear panties. What is that about? I've dreamt at least 5 times that I had children or was pregnant, the kicker is I never saw a husband in any of the dreams. lol The other day I dreamt that I was lost and needed to use the bathroom, so I was running around town looking for a restroom when I finally found one I relieved myself, here is the kicker I woke up from my dream and I realized I had PISSED ON MYSELF. I was so mad. Who does that? Sexy huh? I think it's THERAPY TIME. lol

On a side note be sure to purchase Vogue Italia this month, it's important to support this issue. I'd love to see more models of color in all magazines not just Vogue, but if we don't buy this issue then the powers that be with think that black models don't sell magazines. I'm picking up my copies (I'm buying 20 just because) today after work if I can find it. Where the hell do I find Vogue Italia in Boston?

Well, I'm just stopping by to say "hello" and I'll be back later in the week to post whatever drama goes on.

-Adios XOXO Brunette Bombshell (Conchita)

Psycho stalker and hurt boobies

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 11:41:00 +0000

I apologize in advance for being all of the place, spelling and grammar errors and for anything else you may find in here. Oh there is a bit of graphic sexual detail in here as well as the word pussy.

Lets begin with my “date”, I had a couples appointment this weekend. I hate seeing couples I f*cking hate it. A. It’s too much work, TOO MUCH WORK. I don’t enjoy it I’d rather go out with my client, hit Cheaters (a dirty strip club in Rhode Island I love it in there lol) and bring one of the strippers home because it’s random, exciting and I get to chose the woman. B. Did I mention it’s too much work? Prior to this appointment I had a 2 day meeting with Mr. Jersey who is completely laid back, funny as hell and had this to say to me in an email “Dallas tonight? Just kidding! You couldn't handle it! Hey, all kidding aside, you were just what the Dr. ordered. Bright, Beautiful, and of course witty!” Isn’t he sweet? I love this guy. Now on to the drama.

I'm being stalked. I want to call the cops, but he is the police. ONLY ME!!!!! I have to get this under control before the Black Peoples Picnic on Saturday. Yes, I did just say that, it's not what you think it is tradition. Anyway, I wanted to talk about how I met with a couple that nearly ripped my tits off and how my breasts are still hurting from the rendezvous, but this takes precedence.

Here's what happened. The cop and I as you all already know stopped talking about a month ago. Mind you I have only seen this man 3 times and I've spent time with him twice and had HORRIBLE, QUICK sex with him once. I have to stop giving it away for free because these guys can't f*ck worth shit. Maybe I'm spoiled, but I deserve GREAT SEX in my off time. Jeez is that too much to ask for? Ok, once again I'm off on a tangent. The last time I heard from the cop was about 2 weeks ago and we spoke for maybe 3 minutes TOPS. We really don't know much about each other and remember we haven't spent anytime together.

On Saturday I was driving to my date and my phone rings with a private number showing up on the caller ID. Oh wait before I get to that let me tell you what happened while I was driving to Connecticut with zero gas in the tank. I decided to finally stop at the gas station in CT, wrong move the gas is MUCH more expensive than in MA and while I was pumping gas there were flies and bees all over and I was swatting them away while I was at the pump. I only filled my tank half way because I couldn't stand it anymore and I started to get the chills. I got in my car and drove off, a few minutes later I felt something in my hair. Usually I wear my hair straight, but on this day I decided to go for the old Mariah Carey look and wore it curly. I start to feel around in my rats nest of a hair and felt something and tried to grab it out of my curly locks then it STUNG ME, it was a small bee. I started screaming and crying and swerving all over 395 (highway) trying to get it out of my car, my f*cking hand was killing me and I had 15 minutes to get where I need to be and I was 30 minutes away. I decided to just let the bee stay in the car and ignore that bitch. My hand was swollen and my mascara was running down my cheeks. I forgot to mention I was wearing my contacts that had a tear in them because I ran out of lenses. So, not only was my hand stinging, I looked like Tammy Faye Baker, I was super late, but my eyes were killing me because I was wearing torn contact lenses.

Now I am about 5 minutes from my destination and I decided to put Crest mouthwash in my mouth, little did I know that I wouldn't be able to spit it out the window because there were cars behind me and there wasn't any place to pull over because the road is narrow. So, I had this hot ass mouthwash in my mouth and it began to foam up. WTF? I tried to spit it back in the bottle (nasty huh?) but it foamed up so much that I couldn't get it in there. PURE F*CKING COMEDY. Then my phone rings and a private caller beeps in. I answer it with mouthwash still in my mouth barely able to speak. "Hello" I said 3 times before I heard "what's good?" I mumbled "I'm on a date and I put mouthwash in my mouth and now I can't spit it out" he said "you're on a date? I want to see you ASAP!" I was at a light and finally was able to spit. I returned to the phone "Listen, I don't know when I'm going to return it probably won't be until 3 am, but you can meet me at my house" He said "You better be there!" I then parked, fixed my makeup and went in to meet with my couple. THANKFULLY they weren't interested in keeping me for 2 days, 1 day or even 12 hours. They still had to pay me for 2 days, but it was already agreed upon that I would stay for 6 hours. I must be a great f*ck because I wore both of their asses out in 20 minutes. The wife had a funny looking pussy though. I know I usually don't talk about sex, but listen I couldn't find her clit. I've seen a few pussies in my day and this one was unusual. I kept thinking to myself how can I make her cum when I don't even know where to begin. Jeez, anyway this girl (she's younger than me) was Mexican, spoke no English (GREAT you know how I feel about that), petite like Sara Blake, no tits and had a funny looking pussy. She was a female though because she had 3 kids and small battle wounds (stretch marks) on her stomach to prove it. I just started licking everywhere. LOL I'm cracking up writing this because it was crazy I had no idea what I was doing I just wanted to get out of there. She had a few toys, and the Brookstone device thank god because I know how to use that bitch WELL. I used that on her and she came in 30 seconds. After she came she was on me like white on rice, she wanted 69. Ok, here is the thing with me and 69 I HATE IT. I can't enjoy what I am receiving because I'm too busy trying to make sure I am doing what I need to do. Why can't we take turns? Then she started grabbing my tits hard, I mean violently. I was wondering if she secretly hated me. Sometimes even if I don't like something sexually I'll just let it continue if I see the person is really enjoying it, but this had to stop I was in PAIN and she was sucking the hell out of my right breast while continuing to squeeze the shit out of my left one. I think she had boob envy with her A cups. I had to put an end to the S&M session (it wasn't really S&M but it felt like it), so I told her husband to help me lick her pussy. I wanted to make sure the wife was completely satisfied, plus I needed to see how he licked her pussy because it was so weird looking, he licked the top and I licked the bottom. BOOM she came again, now on to the husband. He's a man a few backshots (doggy) and he was ready for bed. I gave the wife a sensual massage and they were ready for bed and EXHAUSTED. I was actually finished with my session in 20 minutes, but needed to at least give them an hour so I prolonged it with a massage. I learned that from Raquel. Now don’t get me wrong I do not like to rush my sessions and usually I enjoy them, but tonight I was a little off I mean look at all the shit that happened before I even got to them and then when I arrive my tits were sexually assaulted.
Off I went to return home in time for my 3 am date with the cop.

I drove all the way to Connecticut and guess what? I am 2 towns away from my house and I get stopped by an officer for having a head light out, he gives me a verbal warning, then I get in to my town and get stopped again I explained that I was just stopped "license and registration please". ASSHOLE! He gave me a verbal warning as well. Then my phone rings and all holy hell break loose. I didn't realize how badly my breasts were injured. Advil wasn't doing the trick, so I asked the cop if we could reschedule. He went OFF "oh so you went out with that N**** and now you don't want to see me, Oh he must have f*cked you good, what the hell do I look like coming to your house at 3 am after you were already out with another N****, you ain't shit, you're a f*cking bitch, you're a fucking whore, you ain't shit"

The cop obviously doesn’t know anything about my life as a companion, he thought I was out on a real date. So, you know me right? I was looking at the phone like he had lost his damn mind and then I said "Ok, Marcus (fake name) well since you feel that way about me why are you calling me. Boy Bye" and I hung up. This NEGRO called me 14 times. I finally answered the phone and said "leave me alone I don't want to talk to you ever again whatever it is that you thought we had we don't plus I'm not interested in having any 5 minute dick anyway" He said "I swear to god if you don't talk to me I'm going to make your life a living hell. I will find you no matter where you go and f*ck up your life, your word won't mean shit against mine. Oh and now that you came back from your date you want to talk shit to me like I'm a nobody are you f*cking crazy?" I hung up on his ass again and then 15 minutes later he leaves this message "Baby, I'm sorry, but I just realized that when I'm with you I am relaxed and I'm under a lot of stress and you're going out with other n****'s messed with my head and then you were talking shit. Keep your head up and stay beautiful and I wish you luck with everything." I heard the message and knew I had a nut on my hands, but since he said, "I wish you luck with everything" I figured that meant goodbye. Think again CONCHITA.
The next day I am on the phone with a Dominican guy I had met a few weeks ago at a Salsa club, my phone clicked and it was a blocked number. The reason I answer blocked numbers is because usually when I receive a restricted call it is the head whore (she's actually not a whore but she is head bitch) calling from overseas. I clicked over and heard "Hey baby" WTF? "Yes Marcus" him, "what you mean yes Marcus like I'm f*cking bothering you? Did you get my message last night? What did you think?" I said "Marcus what was I suppose to think besides that you are crazy?" Ok let me write it like this because the quotes and commas are killing me and I know they are not in the right places:
Marcus: What are your plans for the day?
Me: I already did what I had to do for the day
Marcus: I didn't ask you what you did I asked what you are going to do
Me: Nothing I'm chilling on my couch
Marcus: Lets spend the day together
Me: Naah dawg (yes when dealing with a REAL IGNORANT n**** this is how I speak)
Marcus: What you mean no? I swear ******I'm going to find you no matter where you go and I don't mean just waiting outside of your house either.
Me: Marcus, are you serious right now? Stop talking crazy
Marcus: hell yeah I'm serious! I want you and nobody else, but there is something about you I don't trust. The only way I'm going to be able to trust you is if we come home to each other every night.
Me: What?
Marcus: I'm serious, we need to be together every night so I know what the hell you are doing and then we can at least say we tried and if it doesn't work out then ok, but give me a week to make it happen.
Me: Are you crazy? Ok, Marcus whatever you say.

Now, this was on Sunday afternoon. Since Sunday I have received over 30 calls from him and I have been staying at The Marriott at the end of my street. What the F*ck? Is he serious? There was so much more said, but I can't write it all down otherwise it will take up too much room and I don't want to relive it all over again. He is a f*cking nut. I went home yesterday to grab more stuff checked my house line and guess who called? Yep and guess what I never gave him my house number and it's NOT LISTED. He's certifiable.

So, anyway I need to get this under control by Saturday because I can't have him acting up at the picnic. I am single and ready to mingle and do not need his crazy ass interfering and acting GHETTO and IGNORANT in front of everyone. When I met him he was straight laced, quiet and he spoke so proper. Boy did he have me fooled, the hood came out really quick. lol OMG he's calling me now. PSYCHO STALKER! What is so alarming about this is I am more concerned about the picnic than my actual safety, now who is the crazy one?

"You are easily a 14"

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 14:40:00 +0000

Friday evening I met with the head bitch Olivia (I love this name. I want a daughter so I can name her this) at The Four Seasons downtown Boston. I arrived wearing a white suit with a black tank top and black pumps, my hair was super straight and parted to the side with minimum makeup and a huge smile. I was greeted with a "hello" and a strong slap on my fat ass. Why do people always feel the need to touch my ass? We ordered salads and wine and then the questions began. "What have you been eating? Your face has filled out and your body is quite voluptuous" "What size are you now?" I knew damn well she knew what size I was, she is the type of woman who can just look at your body and she knows. I said "I'm a 12" she laughed "a 12? Please my love you are easily a 14, so what are we going to do about this?" What could I say? I know I am HEAVY. I really do know this because she told me to stand up and she took a picture of me with her camera phone and showed me. I almost died. I see myself everyday, but never through the eyes of another person. I am a porker and I was disgusted. I told her I would commit to working out 5 days a week and cutting down on the carbs, adding more veggies (I love them anyway), limiting my champagne in take and NO JUNK including ICE CREAM. She said "Ok", Ok? That's it I thought to myself. "Ok" I said. "Now on to the reason for our meeting" Oh shit that wasn't it? She tells me that I need to become a blonde or at least put in tons of blonde highlights to appear blonde because my west coast colleague decided without notice to become a brunette which meant that she had 2 brunettes in the same country and no blondes, so I agreed not like I had much of a choice. She handed me an envelope with $2000 "this is for a trainer and your color and I expect results in 3 weeks!" 3 weeks? For crying out loud she's not playing with me. I asked if she had received any complaints about my weight and she said no. So, basically she didn't know there was a problem until she laid eyes on me. I said "you flew all the way over here to tell me my hair color needed to change?" Olivia said, "darling please you're not that important. I have business of my own here in Boston and decided to kill two birds with one stone. I love you dear, but really watch the weight you look like a plus sized model, beautiful but fat". I was getting my fat ass handed to me. I barely touched my salad when she said "darling you must eat because I don't want you hungry later and overeating". WTF? After I color my hair I'll post a picture of it (just the hair not me).

I decided that over the weekend I was going to indulge and eat whatever I wanted and begin my workout on Monday. Here is my food journal from this weekend in no particular order:

1 slice of Lemon pound cake from Starbucks
Mocha Frappuccino
1/2 burger from Fuddruckers with fries
grilled cheese with homefries
3 Ihop pancakes with 2 orders of homefries
2 Pina Coladas
4 Rum & Bacardi's
1 Margarita
1 Irish coffee
2 cokes
1 turkey club with chips

DISGUSTING. I ate all of that in 2 DAYS and drank lots of water.

Saturday I went to MGM at Foxwoods and had at time of my life. I learned how to play Blackjack and won $50. I know big winner, but I was so excited that I put down $10 and won $40. I said "forget that pal, I'm out of here I'm taking my money and leaving" the guys at the table were laughing. Penee arrived shortly after my HUGE win and we started our drinking spree hence all of the alcohol in my food journal. I tried to get us a room, but they didn't have any availability at Mohegan, Foxwoods or MGM. I never worry about not having a place to stay because I know that my good looks no matter how fat I am will get me over. lol So, we walked around a bit and then I saw that Lionel Richie was performing and nearly lost my mind. I LOVE LIONEL RICHIE. Here's the thing I only brought $200, no credit cards or ATM card because I didn't plan on being there all day, mind you I arrived at 11am. The tickets were $100. I had $100 left, so off to the slot machine I went and guess what? I won $100 and bought my ticket. Penee didn't want to shell out $100 for the ticket and agreed that she would sleep in the car and wait for the concert to end and we would ride home together. I said to her "watch as soon as I buy my ticket someone is going to give me a free one watch". Lo and behold I arrive in the theatre (great seat by the way) and start chatting with a gentleman beside me and he said I have an extra ticket I asked if I could have it (I know the nerve of my asking for the ticket for free lol) and he said yes, so I called Penee told her to get her ass in the casino and meet me. Penee and I always have the best of luck together.

Lionel Richie (Nicole Richie's father) was AMAZING. This is old school, real music. His voice is beautiful he sounds exactly as he does on the CD (I almost said album lol). He played LADY on the piano and I cried before he even starting singing. I love this man. I want to f*ck Lionel Richie just one time before I die. I don't care if he's like 60 and older than my parents I love him. He played a lot of the Commodore songs and closed the show out with BRICKHOUSE and I lost my damn mind screaming. I was like a groupie. Out of control (ooc).

After the show our friend that gave us the ticket invited us up to his room for a drink. At this time it's about 11:30 pm and I was exhausted, but we went anyway he offered us his spare king size bed for the night and left to play poker. I woke up the following morning looking like a broke hoe. My mascara was running down my face from crying the night before at the concert, my hair was a mess because I didn't wrap it, my contacts were dry and my clothes were wrinkled because I slept in them. It was 7 am, we put on our Gucci shades, dashed out the hotel and headed to Ihop for breakfast to get fatter. lol

PS
I nearly forgot to tell you I didn't get rid of the cop. I received 4 blocked calls on Saturday night and another one on Sunday morning. I know it's him. PSYCHO. I had a lot more interesting stuff to tell you like what happened at Ahmad Rashad's Celebrity Golf event and my ex drug dealer boyfriend from many moons ago who found me and shit like that but I'll save that for another time because as you can see I got lazy on this post.
XOXO-Brunette Bombshell Conchita

Lord have mercy

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 04:25:00 +0000

I just f*cked a werewolf. Dr. James must be the hairiest human being I know. He is a regular client of mine, but I'm always taken by surprise when he disrobes and all I see is hair. He actually has the nerve to want a massage. Hello, mutha f*cker you are so damn hairy that even the massage oil can't penetrate through to your skin. So, after I was done massaging him I decided to spice things up a bit. The thing with regulars is over time the same old same old isn't good enough and if you don't learn learn tricks you will lose them because it becomes routine like a regular relationship and if they wanted that they'd get a girlfriend not call an escort.

I pulled out the handcuffs, put on my Lil Wayne cd and rode the werewolf to "Got Money" until he started to howl. He loved every minute of it. I'm sure I was his hip hop video girl fantasy. With my big ass and thick hips that is exactly who I was.

This post is really for me as a reminder of the shit I do for money. You know I gave all of that money I made in Paris to charity and you know what? I still don't believe they use it for what it's intended for. I don't know why, but I just don't believe it. If I can't see it I don't believe it. Shit that was a lot of money it was over $150,000. I could've adopted a few children for that or sent Oprah a check to the angel network. why am I thinking about this now at 12:43 am? What am I babbling about? I'm tired and I don't want to wake the wolf up, so I better go to bed and get ready for work in the am. I wonder what I'm going to do for tomorrow nights surprise. I was thinking about hot candle wax and a whip or maybe calling up a $400 escort and having her do all of the work and watch her face when she sees all of the hair. lol That would be a riot, I just may do that. Who knows, hopefully I'll get some inspiration during the day. Goodnight.
XOXO-Brunette Bombshell Conchita

I need to vent

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 04:48:00 +0000

It's a shame when you can't turn to your friends to vent because you know they will have absolutely no sympathy for you and so I have turned to you my internet friend. lol Pathetic.

“Don’t you want to be happy” is what my neighbor said as I stood there excited and gloating over my new Louis Vuitton purchase made by a man I met the same day. I was pissed off. First of all bitch let me tell you how I was able to get a LV on the first date and be happy about it why do you have to spoil my story that I’m not even going to share with you because you’ve cut me off and pissed me off. Second of all bitch why are you worried about my happiness? I am a happy hoe. I’m f*cking ecstatic I have a new Louis and I didn’t have to use my money or have sex to get it, something you obviously haven’t learned the skill of. Third of all I know this skinny, Puerto Rican bitch with two kids from 2 different fathers who works as a stripper at night and has a different man up in her house every month is not talking to me about happiness. Mind you this is the same girl who meets her men at the strip club. Stupid ass cunt. Rule #1 if you’re going to be a stripper get your hustle on and don’t date your customers. If they know they can f*ck you outside the club they aren’t going to pay you. I looked at her and said, “I am happy. I am NOT going to have some man laying up in my house, watching cable and eating my food and tasting my pussy without paying any bills. I am happy. My happiness is not going to come from being with a man. It comes from designer handbags” and then I closed the door in her face. F*ck her and her no ass, skinny like those bitches on The Hills, Puerto Rican, ghetto, no education self. Instead of asking about my happiness she should've been asking how the f*ck do I manage to get people to buy me expensive ass gifts on first dates. dumb ass. Okay I’m done now and I can go to sleep. Broke ass jealous hoes. I love my red Alma bag it matches my FREE Manolo’s I received earlier this year.

Oh and another thing. There is nothing I can’t stand more than someone going on and on about their children because I can’t relate. Does anyone else notice that people with children get special privileges, like leaving work early to pick up little Johnny or coming in late because the bus was tardy? I’m not a child basher, but I’m sure if I came in late and said Oh I’m exhausted because I was screwing all night or I have to leave early today because I am in desperate need of a manicure I would not receive the same compassion. Oh and just because I am single without any off springs does not mean you can take advantage of my time. No, I will not stay late to pick up Mrs. Johnson’s slack. Mrs. Johnson has a damn husband. With two people in the household can’t they manage to provide adequate childcare for their children? Shut the f*ck up, change your situation or kill yourself, do something but stay out of my office because I don't even want to hear about your family drama. This is not directed at single parents because I do understand their plight. Did I just highjack my own post? I believe I did sorry.

I’m PMSing can you tell? I’m eviler than evil today. I was happy until that Puerto Rican stripper showed up at my door talking about “don’t you want to be happy?” like a f*cking man is going to determine my happiness.

Stage Fright

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Sun, 17 Aug 2008 02:49:00 +0000

I have stage fright. Severe stage fright. I use to be a writer, well a poet once upon a time and here in Boston we had a place called Estelle’s where they held open mic poetry night. For months I would go and be envious of all the poets who were able to get up there and recite their work. Then one day I told a co-worker that I was going to perform and he signed me up for Thursday night. I was scared shitless, my heart was beating so fast I could barely hear anything else besides it. It was loud. I remember looking around wondering if anyone else could hear it.

They called my name and I took to the stage with my poem in hand. The live band began playing after my first word. Shit! I wanted it to be silent, no freaking background music, just me in rare form. The beat was funky, jazz and sexual. It was sexy. Instead of fear passion took over my body and I delivered my words with conviction, power and strength. I owned that fucking stage. I wanted more as the audience hung on my every word. Poetry, black love, sex and passion. What more could I ask for?

The applause was loud.

What’s the point? I want to attend an open mic, but I’m scared as hell. I wish I lived in LA, NY or some other big city where no one would remember me and I’d just be another voice in case I got scared and decided to run off the stage.

When I was in junior high we had a talent show every year and I always wanted to perform because I knew I’d be great, but the fear was paralyzing. I never entered and I still regret it.

I once took an acting class and lasted 1 class because the next week we were going to perform and I couldn’t handle it so I dropped out. lol This happened on two separate occasions. I could never get past the first class.

How am I going to conquer my fear? Any suggestions?

On a side note, Yes I am still PMSing hence me being all over the place. You know under my Interesting Links the site Post Secret? Well my secret is every time I go on that site it makes me depressed and almost suicidal because the people who send post cards are usually in so much pain and oddly I can physically feel it and it drains me. So why do I keep going back every Sunday to read and feel their pain?

DIAMOND! DIAMOND! DIAMOND!

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 13:57:00 +0000

I need to be consoled. I am devastated right now. I even took the day off from work because of this. Are you ready? I am such an IDIOT. I accidentally threw away my Manolo's. How could I be so stupid to throw away $600 shoes that have only been worn a hand full of times. What makes it worst is they don't make that color anymore. I looked everywhere. They are gone. I had them in my car for weeks and cleaned it out last week and I think I threw them out since I put them in a plastic grocery bag. What an idiot. A. I recycle those bags, so I don't understand why I didn't notice the shoes and B. those shoes should've never been NEAR a plastic bag!!!!!!! Now all I have to remember them by is this photo (my kitchen. Do you see all the pictures and crafts on my fridge from all the children I WHOOP? They still love me. Beat your children people. Whoop them. I took off the pic because Diamond told me to. lol I put it back up, but just cropped the hell out of it) I took the day I received them and the box they came in. Don't laugh, but I am so stressed out by this I am medicating myself with Advil. Yeah because Advil is so strong. lol I have a first date with a guy I met online tonight. I already told him about my shoe incident. He probably thinks I'm bonkers because I went on and on about the shoes like a maniac, but I don't care I mean HELLO he's an online person not anyone I care about. So, I'm going to have SEVERAL drinks tonight to make myself feel better with a salad. Ok Jaden? A salad, not steak with garlic mashed potatoes and a piece of chocolate mousse cheesecake like I want. You see that kind of attitude (referring to what I said about my blind date) is why I lost my damn shoes. God is punishing me for being a bitch to men and my neighbor. My mom says "God has nothing to do with this". I'm not sure about that. This is a lesson about appreciating what I already have instead of being GREEDY. Nahh F that God knows I appreciated my Blahnik's and he made me so he obviously wanted me to be greedy.
I'm so sad right now. I need some sex or at least a "massage". OMG I forgot to tell you guys about what happened when I got my massage. I mean a real massage not "massage" you know licking my pussy. I'll save it for tomorrow. I'm too sad to write. I know I know I'm so dramatic.

6:00 PM

I still can't believe they are gone. There is a bright side to this. I found out the if I go to the Manolo Blahnik store in NYC I can custom order them for an additional 20%. Do I really have to go in to the store? Why can't I just give them my credit card info over the phone? Jeez.

PS. You know you love my PS's. I must really be losing my mind because I just showed you all my kitchen. Note to self change everything in there. Ok, I went back and cropped it out a little more. Ok I took it down. Ok Diamond? I had to put it back up because I had emails from people who were pissed they missed the photo, so here it is again but cropped to death. I'm not completely bloody mad.

PPS or is it PSS? Whatever. I also changed my title to Notes written by a bloody NUTTER.

8/19/08 1:29 PM

I finally had a breakdown over my shoes. I know I know they are just shoes, but not to me. I was telling my friend Lang about my Blahnik's and I started sobbing uncontrollably. I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop crying. I am really devastated. He kept telling me that when he takes me to Europe in December that he will buy me tons of shoes, but it didn't make me feel better. My heart hurts. There is more to the story about those red shoes that I never added when I initially spoke about them because I told too many people the AMAZING story so I couldn't risk sharing it with...the world. Plus you guys know I change A LOT of details to protect the guilty and myself. lol

I really need to go back to work. I can't keep taking days off because of this. Maybe I'll go to the gym and work out while watching those skinny Hills bitches. I love Heidi she looks great, but has shit for brains. Hate Lauren and LOVE Audrina. You know who else I love Meghan from Rock of Love and I Love Money. She has the BEST body. So what if her boobs are fake, her stomach is super flat and people are always comment about her wearing bikinis all day need to shut it. They are jealous. HELLO she is in Mexico and has the body for it. I'm rambling. Bye

I've never been prouder

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Tue, 26 Aug 2008 04:06:00 +0000

This is the image I wish more Americans and people around the world would see Black women in. We are not all ghetto, poor, uneducated, out of wedlock baby makers, welfare receiving, project living, Baby Phat wearing, out of shape, loud mouthed, angry, head rolling, weave wearing, video hoes. We are indeed educated, beautiful, articulate, driven, warm, loving, stylish, family oriented, graceful women.

I am honored, proud and touch by her speech because I identified with it. I looked at the television screen in awe and saw a reflection of myself. We may not share the same skin tone, hair texture and I sure as hell don't have her fabulous figure, but I see myself in her. I see my grandmother, my aunts, my mother, my sister, I see not just a black woman, but a strong woman who makes me prouder than I've ever been before. I am emotional on this joyous occasion because the world was FINALLY able to see what I already knew about us. It's emotional because this was more than a speech to me and so many others. It was an example of what we can all accomplish no matter what race, gender or economic status. Inevitably we will all experience challenges in our lifetime, but with a solid plan, education and the will to succeed we can. I actually saw hope for a better future not just for myself, but for all of us.

This is coming from a woman who was never on the Obama cheering committee. I wanted Hillary for president. lol

No way, No how, No McCain!

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Wed, 27 Aug 2008 02:51:00 +0000

I love being a woman. Strong women ROCK! Introducing my hero Mrs. Hillary Rodham Clinton.

I HAVE A DREAM SPEECH

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 23:07:00 +0000

Today is the anniversary of Martin Luther King's I have a dream speech. It amazes me to think that this was not very long ago. This was AMERICA in 1963.

Sorry

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Sun, 07 Sep 2008 14:44:00 +0000

I can't write. I'm severely depressed, horrified and I think I'm going to hell. I'm sorry. Please pray for me.

XOXO-Brunette Bombshell

Update

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Thu, 09 Oct 2008 20:26:00 +0000

Hey it's Penee. A quick update on "Conchita". She has something called hyperemesis (sp) less than 2% of pregnant women have it, so right now she is on a permanent IV until her condition improves and is staying with one of her parents. The baby is fine. I will cut off all comments and she can resume them when she returns. I don't anticipate her returning to the blog until the end of the year.

Oh and she wasn't starving herself she would eat and drink and it would come back up in less than 5 minutes.

-Penee

I'M BACK

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Sun, 07 Dec 2008 17:16:00 +0000

I wrote this in mid October I thought I posted it, but I passed out immediately after I wrote it. It saved though, but I haven't been online since then. Can you believe we have a black president? I still can't. So, here is the drama from October. I have new drama for November and this week, but I'll give you time to catch up on this shit. I never made it to my ultrasound appointment, so I won't find out what I'm having until the 23rd of this month. Kalicutie I received your email, thank you for checking on me. Luv ya girl. Here's what I wrote in October:

Where the fuck do I begin? Well, I suppose I should begin with a heartfelt thank you to all of my readers for your prayers and support. Thank you and I also want to remind everyone including Penee that all comments are welcome whether we agree with them or not. It’s a damn blog. It’s not breaking news on CNN. lol

I’ll start where I’m at now and work my way back to the beginning. Currently, I’m living with one of my parents because I needed care 24/7. This morning they took me off of the iv and I am now eating and drinking on my own. HORRAY!I won’t get in to how one of my kidneys is fucked or how sick I was or how they have taken more blood from me than a fucking vampire or how I went to 4 different Dr’s to admit me in to a mental institute, but they all declined because I wasn’t crazy I’m just pregnant and my hormones are out of wack or how my 39 year old aunt was diagnosed with a rare aggressive form of breast cancer and truly believes that the Dr’s on Cape Cod are just as good as the ones in Boston. HELLO stupid we have the best hospitals in the country in Boston, especially for cancer. Errr. People from small towns kill me when it comes to shit like this. Get to Brigham and Women’s or Beth Israel or Mass General ASAP or how my little brother, my baby who scored the highest in the state on his MCAT and has been offered full scholarships to any college in MA and was suppose to attend a program Harvard has during the summer for gifted high school students (didn’t go this summer because he BAD ass was kicked out of his previous school. I’m not one to talk since I went to 3 different high schools in 4 years) because he is so damn smart was SHOT, yes you heard me right SHOT like he’s in the movie Boys In The Hood living in Compton, CA or South Central or some place ghetto like that. He’s just like me smart as hell, no he’s smarter than me because I am not good in Math and Science and he’s good at everything, but chooses to do the wrong thing. I get it, but I don’t because the children he goes to school with have no options, their parents are probably not involved in the education, they aren’t fortunate like he is and they sure as hell don’t get everything they want like he does. They do the wrong things because they feel they have to, but he doesn’t. Whatever, his black ass is just BAD, if he wants to be 2pac and 50 Cent then he is going to have to learn the hard way. Let me stop talking about that because I’m going to get mad as hell and this happened almost 2 months ago. Oh, he’s fine and has a 8 pm curfew that comes with a PROBATION OFFICER. I wish Willie McGinest was still with the Patriots because he’d sit down and have a serious talk with this little fucker and he’d listen. I miss you Willie, I have no one to interrupt me anymore when I’m trying to get a damn date and you come over talking about “Ah, is everything ok over here? Are you alright?” scaring mutha fuckers off. lol I hated it then, but I miss it now.
Anyway, I can’t even get in to all of those things because it will take too fucking long to write those details, so I’ll mention it and move along.

My baby is fine and doing well. I saw it on the ultrasound a few weeks ago and I hyperventilated, yelling, “Take it off the screen! Take it off screen!” I was already stressed out for crying out loud, seeing the baby really almost put me over the edge. My mom is holding on to the ultrasound photos until I’m ready to look at it. I figure I’ll wait for 3 weeks when I have my next ultrasound and they are able to tell me the sex. PRAY FOR A GIRL and PRAY that she looks just like me. I don’t fucking care if it’s shallow, no one wants an ugly baby. Honestly, I just want it to be healthy and happy, nahh I want it to look like me too who am I kidding.

So, after I left the hospital this morning I went back to my place and was greeted with an EVICTION letter. Oh, it gets better just hold on to your seats. I have a grand total of $55 in my accounts TOTAL SAVINGS AND CHECKING. Oh wait, I have a credit union I have $30 in there. I’m fucking loaded. You’re wondering where the fuck all of money went huh? Oh, I’ll get to that shortly.

When I was dying sick and couldn’t shower on my own Claudia had called me several times and I never returned her call. Finally after 6 messages from her and 100 texts I called her back and told her I was pregnant and dying she told me she would call me back because she was at breakfast. 3 hours later my phone rang and she asked for me address to put in her GPS system because she was in Boston at Logan Airport and on her way to my house to take me to the emergency room. lol I couldn’t believe it, but I didn’t know how good of a friend she was until she arrived. My Puerto Rican neighbor had to let her in to my building and apartment because obviously I wasn’t capable of doing it. Before I continue I have to tell you that my Puerto Rican neighbor has been GOD sent. She checks on me everyday and has been a great support system. Who would ever think I would get that from her, especially since I couldn’t stand her prior to this, by the way she says that I am finally happy. Isn’t that nice to hear? lol So, Logan is about 40 minutes from my house when you don’t know where you are going, so I wanted to at least get cleaned up before Claudia arrived, so I attempted to get in to the shower. BAD IDEA after 3 minutes I was on the shower floor in the fetal position because I ran out of energy and was throwing up all over the place, it was disgusting. Claudia arrived and immediately took off her clothes (so they wouldn’t get wet) and began shaving my armpits and legs, washed my entire body and my hair and cleaned up all of my puke. It was all done in complete silence. She then helped me out of the shower and on to my bed, lotioned my body, powdered my cooter, put on my deodorant and plucked my eyebrows without me having to ask her or tell her what I needed, she just knew what to do. I really wanted to cry because this was the greatest act of kindness anyone has ever shown me. I couldn’t cry though because I was too dehydrated, even speaking was becoming a problem for me because it took too much energy. Claudia dressed me, got me in to the car and to the emergency room. I was there for 6 hours on an IV, she stayed with me the entire time, drove me home, tucked me in to bed, called my mother and returned back to NY that evening. I love her and I have not a doubt in my mind that she loves me because what she did was pure love. People like Penee, Denise and others who are suppose to be my real friends have been MIA (missing in action) and are so unreliable that it frustrates me to think about them, so I don’t. I’ve discovered that my true friends are 2 hookers and a stripper and I’m being serious. My other (hooker) friend has been paying a few of my bills for the last few months without any questions and as I mentioned above my neighbor stripper has gone above and beyond for me and she has 2 small children of her own to take care of in addition to a full-time job and stripping at nigh, but she still manages to check on me and offers any assistance that I need including flat ironing and blow drying my hair, although I haven’t taken her up on that because you know how I am about my hair.

Let’s see, so I found out I was pregnant and was ecstatic. I mean I was over the fucking moon. I called everyone I knew to tell them and they were as happy if not happier than I was. It’s been a long road for me and the subject of children. I was told by several Dr’s it wouldn’t happen and this year I have finally come to the realization that it just wasn’t going to happen and I would have to adopt which was fine with me and then BOOM I get pregnant by a man that I DID use a condom with (it broke) and only had sex with once. lol Pure comedy. Diamond are you ready to start writing the treatment? lol So, needless to say everyone who knows me knows about the children situation and were thrilled with the news. Typically, most people would want to know who the father is, how did I meet him etc. the funny thing is no one even cares, no one asked except my parents, but even they haven’t pushed it. I had to tell the truth though, I had sex once and don’t even know the person well. lol My mother wanted to die and my father just shook his head, but they were still happy because well it’s a baby and a baby we never thought would come so who cares how it got here. The father was excited and wanted to get married when I told him I was pregnant. Uh, listen pal I don’t know nor do I even like you. One weekend was enough for me now thanks for the baby and fucking beat it! I’ve been so mean to him that last week he finally told me to lose his number. I was so happy, that is one less stressful thing in my life. I’ll contact him after I give birth, until then I’m FUCKING FREE FROM AGGRAVATION. YAHOO!

After I delivered the good news to everyone I made the one call I was dreading to the head bitch. I called to share my news of a miracle and a blessing with her and she immediately reminded me that I had appointments all month (Sept) long and I should be sure to pack saltines. Has this bitch lost her mind? Did she really think I was going to continue going on dates with my child inside of me? Yes, she did and once I told her to cancel all of my appointments and that I had to retire the shit hit the fan. She told me that I needed to either get an abortion or work until I started to show. I told her to fuck off and hung up the phone at this point I was physically feeling fine and going about my business. I had already left my day job because I was returning to grad school. My birthday arrived and I received in the mail the Italia Vogue from July The Black issue I was raving about along with an invoice for $500,000. Oh yes, you read the numbers correct FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS. I can’t explain to you the details on how she came up with the figure, but it is accurate, actually technically I would owe more because I have a few exclusive contracts with clients meaning they only want to see me and I was paid in advance, so they were owed money back, plus cancellation fees and since I was booked throughout NEXT year that shit adds up quickly. I had to move things around, but I managed and sent her the money the following Monday and then I got sick and shit went down hill from there, so that is why I am broke. What is so funny about this whole thing is I’m not even worried about it. I should be, but I’m not. It’s just money right?

I’ve since heard from the head bitch and she told me that if I agree to return to work 6 months after the baby is born she will give me all of my money back, plus a bonus and she will pay for any plastic surgery needed along with an Au Pair and will make sure that the client pays for the Au Pair’s accommodations and airfare so the baby will always be with me. What a deal huh? I declined. You see I loved being a whore, trust me it’s the best damn job I’ve ever had, but being a mother is going to be the hardest job I’ve ever had and I’m not going to fuck it up. In my opinion it’s ok to take risks, like going overseas with no money and getting in cars with strangers in a foreign country when you don’t speak the language or flying all over the world with clients who at any time can become obsessed with you and possibly kill you or quitting your job at the drop of the dime because you want to, but you can’t do that shit when you have children at least you shouldn’t because it’s not worth it. How can someone explain to your child that you are dead because of a stupid AVOIDABLE mistake that you made? I’m not willing to take that chance.

I changed my cell phone number and haven’t looked back. It’s not even tempting for me to go back to that life because I have something so wonderful to look forward to. Even when I received my eviction letter today it didn’t even dawn on me to think oh man if I only went on one last appointment or maybe I should take the head bitch up on her offer. Nope, not even for a second, it’s not worth it to me. I mean, come on I have some fucking morals and ethics.
Can you believe that before I starting seeing a private Dr. and was going to a clinic they suggested that I sign up for food stamps? Hell no! Not because I have too much pride, but because if you are an able body (and I will be very soon) you should get a damn job. Yeah, I know there aren’t any jobs (lol), but McDonalds is always hiring. If you are working and you need welfare and food stamps then I think it’s ok TEMPORARILY. Yes, I sound like a Republican and I don’t care. Speaking of Republicans can you guys believe this Palin chick? I’m bullshit. Out of all the women in the US and John chose her. I will never understand it. You lost me John, you really did with that one. If you would have picked Romney I could roll with you, although I’m voting for Obama, but Palin are you nuts?

Anyway, I’ve been writing this for almost 3 hours and my energy is LOW so I have to go. I’ll be back soon because HELLO the drama is just beginning. One last thing, be sure to vote.

Love you guys soooo much. XOXO-Conchita the Brunette Bombshell

PS Adrianna I love your name. Too bad I already have names picked out. If it’s a girl I’m naming her after my favorite singer and you already know who that is and if it’s a boy I’m naming him after one of my readers because she has a unisex name. It will be easy to figure out who it is and no I didn’t do spell check and I’m not proof reading this bitch either. I’ve put enough effort in to this post to last until December. I’ll be back way before then. –Adios Amigos

Baby news

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 15:51:00 +0000

Yesterday I attempted to get out of my parking space which was covered in ice and snow. With no such luck, as I'm over 5 months pregnant I couldn't shovel my way out and I had already slipped on ice last week and nearly killed myself so taking another chance wasn't worth it if it would harm the baby. Anyway, I missed my ultrasound appointment AGAIN. I rescheduled it for next week, but since I couldn't wait any longer I decided at 4am to head over to Boston Medical Center and tell them I was having pains in my stomach. I know I shouldn't lie, but I wanted to know what I was having the suspense was killing me and come on a little white lie never hurt anyone. I showed up in full actors mode "I'm 22 weeks pregnant and I'm having pain in my lower abdomen" they immediately rushed me to get an ultrasound and then I said "is it a girl?" and the ultrasound person said "No, it's a boy!" I said "a boy? a boy?" and then I cried. I wanted a girl, but then I realized at that moment it didn't matter what I wanted it's my baby and I'm thrilled no matter what the sex is. Then he moved the monitor so I could see the baby and guess what happened? You got it, a panic attack. I couldn't breath, I was sweating and trying to take my damn shirt off, until he asked me to turn on my side and breathe deep slow breaths. I was mortified. Why is it every time I see the baby I hyperventilate? I feel bad, the baby had enough and decided the show was over and turned on his side and called it a day. I laughed I said to the ultrasound technician "that is definitely my son, he has no patience for nonsense". lol

When the tech was finished he said the baby looked healthy and fine and couldn't find any problems. I told him it was probably just gas. lol The dr wanted to see me next, so I told him I needed to use the restroom and I LEFT THE HOSPITAL. lol Hey, I got what I wanted. It's a boy. little Jayden.

Diamond, I know one thing you better stop calling my baby a Nigerian thief. lol I was laughing so hard when I read your last comment. You are a horrible auntie, you Dominican slut. lol Why is it that when I was sitting among the poor people of Boston in the ER I suddenly reached for my phone to call the head bitch to tell her we have a deal and to send me my fucking money pronto, so I can live right? I didn't, but it's getting harder and harder to fight the devil. I hope you had a safe trip to your mamas house.

Happy Holidays to everyone. Be safe and remember it's not about the gifts it's about spending time with the ones you love.

Happy New Year!!!lol

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Thu, 29 Jan 2009 00:51:00 +0000

Yeah I know I'm a day late and a dollar short, but I did write in the last posts comments so I'm not entirely late.

So, perhaps I did skip over a lot. I went from "I hate this black bastard" to "I spent New Years Eve with him" lol. Alrighty, so I decided to give him a chance for Jaydens sake. I figured I had to really put in a solid effort with this BROKE ASS man so my son wouldn't be raised by a single parent. I tried I swear I did, but you know what? I couldn't do it. He gets on my nerves. The problem is I am an American woman, which means I don't take shit and I'm not about to be submissive to anyone especially a man. If that was the case I would've gotten in to S&M and been the sub. HELLO. If I even told you some of the shit this black bastard has pulled on me you would be on the first flight out to Boston to kick his ass TRUST ME. I've decided to longer share this information with any of my girlfriends because then I'm unable to share it with you all and sharing with you guys is so much healthier for me because I get to really go off and tell you EXACTLY what happens. I don't lie or sugar coat anything with you.

Sunday we (the black bastard. he doesn't even get to be called "the Nigerian") were suppose to pick up Jaydens crib. Did he call me? Did he cancel? Did he communicate anything to me? NO, that black bastard just avoided me. So on Monday I called him and said something about it. He had the nerve to say to me "Don't pressure me in to buying the crib. I'm the one paying NOT YOU". Ok, now what pisses me off is that 7 months and 1.5 million (yeah thats the real amount) ago I would've been able to buy and sell his ass never mind having to beg for $450 for a CRIB! He loves to tell me "you act like you're better than people and you don't have any money". Every day I want to call the head bitch to accept her offer because I hate being broke and pretty much helpless. I'm not answering his calls anymore and he is getting pissed. Too bad he's good for NOTHING, not even sex so PISS OFF you bloody wanker. Get this, my godsons mother texted me last night to tell me she is going to Western Union me $300 next week. I was mortified and embarrassed. AHHH Anyway, the crib is being taken care of. My ex (like 4 ex's ago) offered to buy it AFTER he gave me a long lecture about having a baby with someone other than him. WTF? The $300 will go towards Jaydens mattress (I don't care I want a SOFT and comfortable mattress for my little prince) and sheets. I already have his bassinet from restoration Hardware the Moses basket. Do you like it? Can you believe it was $69 just for the stand not including the damn basket? You can tell I'm broke now because I wouldn't have even thought twice about that.

Ok baby news: Jayden is kicking away. I have a soccer player I am convinced. Mark my words. He even knows his name. My mother swears I'm crazy, but every time I call him he kicks me right on time. I love this baby. I can't wait for him to get here! Diamond I noticed you never said anything about his middle name being Manolo.

While my personal life has gone to complete shit my "professional" life is in high demand. It appears that now that I am becoming a mommy and not available everyone wants to see me and get this they are willing to pay a shit load more. Why? I have no idea. It's quite sick if you ask me. If I were a guy I wouldn't want to f*ck a mommy. That's just me. For that I'd screw my wife who actually gave birth to MY children. SICKOS. I get a call from the head bitch at least once a week and on the days that the black bastard has hurt my feelings I want to say "I'm ready to come back", but I think about sweet Jayden and politely decline. To be honest she is starting to wear me down.

Physically I am all tits and stomach. THANK GOD and so far no stretch marks other than the ones I already had. I had to cut all of my hair off because I couldn't afford to get it done every week and as you all know I don't do my own hair so it's the Halle Berry look for me for now. I don't take prenatal vitamins so my hair isn't growing quickly. So basically I look like a broke, pregnant Mariah Carey with short hair. lol Speaking of pregnant have any of you seen the latest pics of Kimora Simmons? Lord have mercy her neck looks horrible. It reminds me of pork that gets wrapped with twine. I'm going to hell. F*ck it I'm already in hell trust and believe me.

What else? I love peanut M&M's. Do any of you know someone who works for Mars? If you do I need a few boxes of them. thx in advance. lol

XOXO-Brunette Bombshell

Wait! I'm not done venting. I can't f*cking sleep at night because I can't get comfortable and the baby only allows me to sleep on my left side. My back is itching like crazy, but my friend tells me if I scratch it I'll get stretch marks so I suffer. I have the cold from hell and I can't take anything for it. My tits are painful and are filled with milk. My back is killing me and that black bastard never rubbed it for me thank god for my friend Ruby she does it for me. I have gas BAD. Thank god I never leave the house, otherwise I may blow everyone away. Oh and I hate showering for some reason. What is that about? Maybe it's because I have to climb up a shit load of stairs to get to the bathroom and by the time I get up there I'm ready to pass out. I have discharge like crazy. I feel like I'm pissing on myself. Actually, technically I am every time I sneeze. Ok, the bitch fest is over. Oh and I cancelled my baby shower because I hate everyone. lol

Miserable

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Thu, 12 Mar 2009 02:14:00 +0000

I am so uncomfortable. I can't sleep. My stomach is so damn round, some stranger had the nerve to say to me "are you sure you're not having twins?" I hate everyone and everything aggravates me. I'm afraid if someone says the wrong thing I'm going to snap. I know it's my hormones, but I can't take it anymore SERIOUSLY. I just want him OUT! I don't think I can wait another month. I'm losing my mind.

Wanna laugh? The only thing that makes me feel better is listening to Spit your game by Biggie. LOL I keep that song on repeat. I was listening to classical music, but it aggravates me now, it's too fucking calm.

So I say I want him to come right? Well, everyday I'm afraid of giving birth. I'm afraid to die during childbirth like my grandmother. If I died who would take care of Jayden? I don't trust anyone, not even his dad. I wouldn't want my parents raising him, his godmothers are both whores (escorts), my sister is too young and my brother is finishing up his Masters. Ok, so most likely I won't die, but I'm still scared. I hope I don't get postpartum because I don't have time for that shit. I have to get my life back on track.

HELP ME!!!

Quick Update

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 19:31:00 +0000

I’m finally back so, I’m going to start with what is currently going on and work my way back because I have a very poor memory and I haven’t blogged in quite a while.

I just returned from my weekly doctors appointment where I was informed that my little Nigerian isn’t so little. He is going to be between 9-10 pounds. This requires an automatic c-section because they are afraid that if I push his head will come out, but his shoulders may get stuck causing damage. I am scared as shit because I’m due this week, but we’re going to wait to see what happens to schedule the c-section. Everyone keeps telling me a c-section is better than giving birth vaginally, but I’d prefer to push, it’s less recovery time and a c-section is fucking surgery!

The black bastard had the nerve to call me today and tell me that he doesn’t feel that it is his responsibility to help me pay my backed up bills or my cell phone. Ok, I haven’t asked him to pay any of my backed up bills, but the cell phone should be automatic. HELLO I’M PREGNANT AND I NEED TO HAVE A PHONE IN CASE OF AN EMERGENCY SINCE I LIVE 45 MINS FROM THE HOSPITAL AND 1 HR FROM ANYONE TO HELP ME IF NEED BE. I started to scream at him and then I just stopped because it really makes no sense even discussing this with him. I hate having to depend on different friends to help with the cell bill every month to ensure it stays on, but I have to do what I have to do. I can’t stand him! I can’t wait to have this baby. I told him via text because he’s not even worthy of a face to face that I’m not giving the baby his last name. A few hours later he sends me a text telling me he loves me. Are you f*cking kidding me? If this is love he can keep it. He always tells me how much he loves me and shit, but if he did he would step up, plus I don’t want his love. He’s not my type, he can’t do shit for me and I just wish he’d go to Nigeria and stay there.

I have gained 35 lbs, but thank goodness I am all belly and boobies, but the stretch marks have started to come in BAD. My belly button sticks out through my shirts, but since I rarely leave the house no one sees me, so who cares.

Monday was the Boston marathon. It's my favorite day of the year. The marathon runs right through my hometown, so I always have great memories of getting ready early in the morning as a child, getting water together for the runners and making a day of it. I go every year, but since I'm on bed rest I couldn't attend. I watched it on tv though and it was so nice to see a few Americans place (both in 3rd).

Last week I went to the doctors and as I was leaving the examining room I passed out. An ambulance was called and I was rushed to labor and delivery. It turns out my blood pressure dropped. This is not the first time this has happened I passed out the week before while I was actually at the hospital taking a tour of the maternity ward. Prior to that I was at Lord and Taylor shopping for shoes with my mom and I started to get dizzy and hit the floor. I wouldn’t let them call an ambulance that time, but I was MORTIFIED it was a Saturday afternoon and it was freaking packed in there. My mom wanted to kill me because her main concern was buying two pairs of boots and not helping me off the floor. lol Per doctors orders I am no longer allow to go anywhere except their office alone because of these fainting spells.

Penee is a cunt. I haven’t seen that bitch at all and she still thinks she’s a godmother. Is she serious? Please.

The head bitch is still stalking me to come back to work. I told her my stomach looks like a damn zebra, she doesn’t care her thing is a plastic surgeon can fix anything. She sent me a beautiful English carriage. The problem is no one in America uses these carriages it will probably get used twice, plus it doesn’t have a basket underneath. Where do the English keep their belongings?

I finally set up the crib well actually my cousins boyfriend did it. I have so many clothes for this little boy it’s not even funny. He is spoiled. He has everything a baby could want and doesn’t even need. The only thing I absolutely hate is doing the laundry for him. He’s not even here and there’s a shit load of laundry to do.

I can’t wait to get my hair colored. Right now I have dark BLACK roots and blonde ends. I am a mess.

I went to my breastfeeding class on Monday and some Brazilian b*tch told me I sound (accent) like the Housewives of New Jersey. First of all yes I do have an accent when I’m comfortable 90% of the time I speak without one. Second of all I use to live in Jersey and the women on the previews don’t sound that bad to me at all, except the way they say “boobies” it sounds like “bubbies”, but whatever and third of all the Housewives of NY sound worst, so she can f*ck off. I told her she sounds like a Mexican that just jumped the fence.

Anyway, there has been a lot of drama with the black bastard, but I decided a few months ago (after Valentine’s Day) that I am no longer going to his house and I’m no longer making an effort to be a family. I don’t even like him.

I set up a twitter account so I could keep you guys posted from the hospital and send quick updates, but I can’t figure out how to post from my cell. Oh well.

It's time for me to go I'm getting kicked to death because he's hungry and I haven't fed him any real food. I had a chocolate cupcake and some ice cream and it's 3:30 PM. BAD MOM!

Miss you guys so much. XOXO Brunette Bombshell

HOLY SHIT

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Thu, 07 May 2009 22:24:00 +0000

I'm being induced now. I'm fucking scared I'm not ready to do this. Plus I'm hungry and they won't let me eat. I pissed that my mom won't smuggle in a cheeseburger for me. wtf? Well he'll be here by tomorrow morning wish me luck and pray for me. xoxo-brunette bombshell

Hello Lovies

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Tue, 04 Aug 2009 02:06:00 +0000

I'm on hiatus until October. Right now I'm enjoying every minute of motherhood and slowly getting my life back on track. Until then Adios. XOXO- Brunette Bombshell

Whole Foods YUMMY

noreply@blogger.com (Brunette Bombshell) — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 18:37:00 +0000

If you have a chance and live near Whole foods you MUST stop by the bakery and pick up a strawberry shortcake cake. It's not actual shortcake, but it's the best friggin cake I've ever had. They sell it in individual sizes as well...Ok, I know you didn't come on here to hear about cake and I do need to respond to some of your messages so I will be back before the end of the weekend.