Why Do I Love This Man?

Heaven only knows why I love Lil Wayne so...I mean, look at this mess.

I don't know if it's the tats, the gold fronts, the Adam's apple, the "I don't give a f*ck" attitude, the gorgeous flowing braids, the look on his face like he's smellin' somethin' stank...I just don't know.

He's got a great sound (for all y'all ol' white folks, he's a rapper) and he's a bit on the skinny side. But he's still a hot piece, you can't deny it.

Shit, I need help!

And just for shits & giggles, here's Destiny's Child w/ Weezy & T.I. (another fine specimen...) from back in the day. Weezy debuts the hotness at 1:40, with his body marked up like the subway in Harlem... {sigh} Damn, I need to quit it.

The video's tight, but these bitches look like they need to hit the buffet. Two times through!

R.I.P. Romeo #3

OK, so y'all know my new fave show is The Pickup Artist, but last week I just couldn't bring myself to blog about the epi; it was too effin' boring. Ol' Fred got the boot, and frankly I don't give a damn.

But this week was GREAT! It had one of the most uncomfortable "reality" scenes I've seen in a long time -- forced (and blindfolded!) intimacy! Yikes!

The boys got a kissing lesson from Mystery's two main bitches: Taaaaaaara & that other chick. They had to practice by makin' out with fruit. No, not Lance Bass -- actual fruit, like peaches & strawberries and shit.

Then the challenge was to kiss a blindfolded Taaaaaaara and come out #1 in her rankings. This is the part that made my ass twitchy. Seriously.

Bitch kissed 6 dudes in a row (although some of the "kisses" were so sad, they don't hardly even count as kisses...). I thought to myself "she needs to get her ass to the free clinic for some Valtrex, STAT!" then I remembered "wait, these dudes've only ever made out with their toothbrushes, so they're probably herp-free."

A couple of the makeout sessions were gettin' a bit hot & heavy -- and I must admit, Taaaaaaara was startin' to get really into 'em, all moanin' & shit...it was great. From where I was sittin', looked like Kosmo's ass was the best kisser. He was workin' it for me. It's like some Oscar De La Hoya thing he's got goin' on...I don't know, but I'd hit it.

So after Taaaaaaara's votes were tallied, and by "votes were tallied" I mean panties were changed, Kosmo was the big winner. His prize: an earbud through which to hear Mystery coachin' him in the club later on from outside in a mover's van. Yea, think Peyton Manning listenin' to his coaches in the booth through the mic in his helmet. Whatever.

To try to save himself from elimination, each dude had to go into said club and find some whore drunk enough to make out with him.

They all failed except one: King Kosmo

He used some cheesy line like "I am tryin' so hard not to kiss you right now", and the drunk ho-bag fell for it, hook, line & sinker. She says "so why don't you?" blah, blah, blah, and then face-suckin' ensued. Hell, that was pretty much more uncomfortable that the blindfolded forced intimacy! Yuck.

So King K chose Joe D. & Joe W. to be his wingmen or whatever, and all 3 were able to escape elimination. It came down to Pradeep (he's gotta be gay) and Scott (can't believe he was still here...) in the final 2. But in the words of MC Serch, it was Scott who had to "STEP OFF!"

No offense, but if poor Scott tried to kick some game to *me* in a club, I wouldn't be havin' it.



Judgin' by the previews for next week, there's gonna be some speedos, more drunk sluts and man cryin'. Lovez!

This Team...

I love comin' here and ventin' about my favorite team (no one else'll listen to me). And the more I vent, the more I wonder why the hell I even follow these bitches.

I swear, this effin' Braves team is killin' me. Killin' me dead. They aren't playin' much better than a high school varsity team!

Here we sit, last day of August, and we're 4.5 games out of the division and the wild card. Of course, 6 days ago, we were 7 games out of the division lead, so it could be worse. And I hate to say it, but we have to give some credit to the Phillies for sweeping the Mets this week (umm....errr.....thanks?).

Tonight we open a 3-game series with NY and then get the Phils on Monday, so there's still a lot of baseball left. These next 6 games are HUGE! We've gotta find that cocky swagger we had at the beginnin' of the '06 season (remember? Back when we were good and we knew it? Or at least we thought we were good...).

And then Sept. 10th we're back at Shea for another 3-game set. These hot hos gotta start doin' some serious damage if they're gonna see baseball in October.

MEDIOCRE DONT' CUT IT, FELLAS!

And speakin' of hot hos, this is great. I know it's been around for a few weeks now, but I still watch it every day. This video has everything: 2 cute-as-a-button frat boys, a guitar, a nappy couch from the 80s & a lot of man-love for Mark Teixeira. It melts my cold black heart.

Show us yer tats!

This is for you, Marky Mark.

Girl Fight!

The claws are out already!

Tiki Barber was on TV Sunday night and called Giants QB Eli Manning a wuss. Well, not really. He said it was a joke that Eli tried to step up & lead an offensive meeting in week 12 last season.

Tiki announced his retirement late last season so he can run off to be a big TV star or some shit.

Eil shot back today, saying that Tiki was a dumb ho who bitched about head coach Tom Coughlin too much and who only thought of his own selfish ass. Well, not really. Just read the damn story!

Eli is quoted as saying, "I guess I'm just happy for Tiki that he's making a smooth transition into the TV world."

MEOW!

Shut the hell up, Eli. Just get out there and make Momma some money!

Dayum!

ARE YOU READY FOR SOME (fantasy) FOOTBALL?!

Yes, ladies & germs, I have joined my first ever fantasy football league.

I've been a baseball girl my whole life so I've had many a fantasy baseball team, but I was recently invited to join a girls-only football league. I thought to myself, "What the heck, I've never played fantasy football, and maybe I'll make a few friends along the way..." (Although I typically hate women. But that's another story for another time...).

Anyhoo, I was told well in advance that the live draft was basically gonna be a booze-fest. Perfect. An even better reason to join up.

Twelve crazy-ass hos holed up in a garage for 5 hours drinkin', smokin', eatin', cussin' like sailors...and tryin' our damndest to put together the best team (as you know, it's difficult to make good decisions after 8 beers and 27 jello shots...think Britney & Jason Alexander).

Some of us came into the draft having done our homework: printouts of stat sheets, news & notes, expert analysis, blah, blah, blah. Others, however, had the followin' gameplans:

• "I'm takin' Tony Romo -- he's datin' Carrie Underwood"
• "Jason Sehorn's not playin' anymore?! -- he's married to Angie Harmon, ya know?"
• "I'm takin' Tom Brady cuz he's fiiiiine! By the way, has that Bridget chick had his baby yet?"

And then there was the (more than) occasional pause in draft action due to conversations such as:

• "Sinorice Moss? Yea, umm, I think that's Randy's brother"
• "Ooooh, Matt Hasselbeck, YUM! He's married to Elizabeth, right? Or is that Tim Hasselbeck? When's their baby due anyway?"
• "I'm takin' Plaxico Burress...I LOVE that name!"
• "Alge Crumpler?! Who the hell would name their baby Alge!? Poor child..."
• "Jerricho CROTCHery?!"

Men don't talk shit like that when they're draftin', do they?

And it was no big thang to yell out "you BITCH!" after the ho next to ya took your next pick before you. Such was the case when Alge went before I could nab him -- yes, I admit, I just wanted him because of his name. I can't even tell ya if he's any good or not. And I coulda swore homegirl was gettin' a bit long in the toof, but when I looked him up (it's called research, people!) he's a year younger than ME! Ouch!

Anyhoo, I admit, I had more fun than Michael Vick on Pitbull Adoption Day at the dog pound. As the witching hour dawned, six of us headed out to the bar (with a DD, of course) and had a grand ol' time. There was a band, we rocked out, we had more beers....we were basically a bunch of drunk slutty bar hos. We loved it!

So here's my team: (oh, and my team name is.........wait for it.........wait for it........ Tig Ol' Bitties HAHA! Loves it! Hey, what would you expect from a league named "What'd'ya Think of These?")

• Eli "Don't Call Me Peyton" Manning
• Shaun Alexander
• Ronnie Brown (that's James's nephew, right?)
• Donald Driver
• Chad Johnson
• Deion Branch (Michelle's dad?)
• Jason Witten
• Olindo Mare
• DeAngelo Williams (dud'n't he sing "Brown Sugar"?)
• J.P. Losman (who? oh well, he's kinda cute with bedhead)
• Michael Turner (Tina's baby...)
• Brandon Jones
• David Martin
• Mike Bell
• Najeh Davenport (cuz I love the name...bitch still look like Predator, or did he shave that shit off?)
• Chris Chelios Martin Gramatica
• Titans D
• Pats D

I couldn't tell ya who's gonna be in my starting lineup...I just hope these hos win Momma some money!

In keepin' with the football spirit, here's a pic of Matt Leinart:

I'm postin' it because it's the only time I've ever seen him lookin' like a hot piece. (I've never thought he was much worth lookin' at.) He always seems to be fightin' the hotness. I knew he had it in him...

And, oh, by the way, Sinorice's bro is Santana, not Randy (it's called research, people!).

Oh, Baby!

Hey, maybe my trash talkin' lit a fire under their asses! (Yea, cuz I'm totally sure they were huddled 'round a laptop readin' my blog in the clubhouse 20 minutes before game time.)

Bottom of the 5th inning: Braves 11, Reds 3

And the best part is Tex's line thusfar: 2/2, 2 HRs, 6 RBIs, 3 R

That'll make the ol' fantasy team feel saucy. And to think, some yay-hoo in my league offered me Tex for Albert Pujols....you know I jumped all over that shit!

I just wanted to get a "feel good" post in before my new fave show comes on.

Peace, love & homers
















(enjoy some yumminess from his first game in a Braves uni)

C'mon Bitches!

Alright people, time to get it together. Put'cher big girl panties on and rock the shit outta the Reds tonight. I'm sick of all this inconsistency -- we can't seem to get on a roll. Almost every aspect of the team is lackluster: offense (with the exception of occasional spurts of Big Bat Syndrome), defense, starting pitchin' (with the exception of Smoltz/Hudson), bullpen (bp SUCKS!)....hell, even our attitudes & confidence are anemic! Pretty sure I've mentioned this somewhere before....oh yea.

Right now we're 5.5 games behind the Mets and 5 behind the Phillies. We've GOT to gain some ground on those teams during this 4-game series in Cincy. Then it's off to St. Louis & Florida....we gotta DO somethin'!

C'mon Bravos! Prove to me that you're a playoff team!

And just for sheer manjoyment, I present you Jeff Francoeur (a.k.a. my future second husband):

Remember THIS?!

DAYUM! I miss this ho!

sniff, sniff

Let's Go Braves!

All right, folks....the Braves have GOT to win tonight. About 20 minutes till game time: Giants at ATL. Currently, my Bravos are 3.5 behind the first-place Mets and a .5 game behind the Phillies. We're only 3 games over .500 at home and right now, there is *no* consistency in anything we're doin'. Our offense, defense, starting pitching, relief pitching...hell, even our confidence and attitudes are inconsistent! I'm gettin' sick of it.

Chipper's been on fire most of the season, but poor Andruw sucks it up. Homegirl's battin' .195 at home this year! .1-9-5. Unacceptable! At least it's a walk year for him. Hate to see him leave ATL, but shit. We can't afford to pay him $14 million/year for production like that. Yea, he's got 74 RBIs but I don't know where the hell they came from.

Smoltz is on the mound for us tonight, lookin' to take his record to 11-6. His last outing wasn't bad in New York, but our bullpen blew it for him. Typical. Not to mention, we loaded the bases in the 9th with 0 outs against Billy Wagner and couldn't do shit!

C'MON DUDES!!! Time to go on a tear & put the Mets away for good!

Game on! I'm off to mlb.tv......more later.......maybe.

R.I.P. Romeo #1

Peacocks, gambits & jewelry, oh my!

OK, so my latest obsession is The Pickup Artist (see below). Really can't say *why* it's my new fave show, but I loves it! After the season premier last Monday, I waited (im)patiently for 6 days & 23 hours. Last night's episode didn't disappoint!

The 8 loverboys got makeovers to match their "avatars" -- their new self-created personas. Piercings, skin-tight pants & blue hair were among the most drastic changes made by the fellas. Oh, and Alvaro changed his name to "Kosmo". Whatever.

The challenge: make the biggest change to your appearance, bring out the peacock in yourself, and you'll win a woman. A woman named "Tara" or some shit. She would help the winner practice his dumb pickup lines and tell him what he's doin' wrong. Mystery & his cronies, J. Dog & Matador, had the dubious task of selecting the dude they would be most willin' to let roll with 'em.

Anyhoobs, Spoon was the big "winner" -- or "loser", depending on how you look at it.

So the kids had to practice using gay-ass "gambits" to "open a set" at a club. Basically, a "gambit" is a conversation starter and a "set" is considered a group of 2 or more peeps (damn, who comes up with these terms?). So dudes have to walk up to the set, spit the lines and try not to get beat down. One of the gambits being: "Do you floss before or after you brush your teeth?".......huh? If dude said that to me at a bar, I'd knock him out & take his drink.

The kids then get let loose in the bar to try out these lines. Joe D. (the lovable, hairy, wonky-eyed dough boy) won immunity by doing the best job of opening sets. The kicker was that, as the immunity winner, he had to select 2 of his housemates to be his "wing men" which also saved them from being eliminated. Joe D. chose the newly-platinum-blonde-avatar Brady and the screw-these-dumb-ass-pickup-lines,-instead-I'm-gonna-try-breakdancing-in-the-bar-to-open-a-set Kosmo as his wing men.

Then Mystery broke out the JEWELS! I'm not talkin' diamonds & platinum jewels, I'm talkin' medallions & shit! Man-necklaces.....man-laces! Yea, get this: for every "level" that these tools successfully pass, they get a medallion that has some sort of Pickup Artist heiroglyphics on it. The first man-lace was supposed to symbolize "rebirth" or some crap -- I don't know, I wasn't listenin'. I was too busy lookin' at the cheap-ass Joan Rivers enamelling on it. Fug!

So Joe D., Kosmo & Brady get their man-laces and exit stage left.

The remaining 5 on the chopping block were: I'm-trying-to-look-15-instead-of-45-years-old-Nerds-Gone-Wild Fred; women-think-I'm-gay-so-I'm-going-to-have-chunks-of-flesh-stabbed-out-of-my-ears-to-show-them-how-manly-tough-I-really-am Joe W.; I'm-so-socially-inept-I-really-don't-think-there's-hope-for-me-in-this-game/Bill-Gates-wanna-be Scott; My-phobia-of-talking-to-women-is-so-paralyzing-that-I-cry-at-every-challenge-where-I-have-to-talk-to-women Spoon; and I'd-rather-walk-into-a-bar-and-start-talking-to-the-first-group-of-men-I-see Pradeep (hmmm...maybe he should be on a different show. M'just sayin....).

After Scott, Joe A. & Pradeep all get their man-laces and leave, it's just Spoon and Fred left on the sectional sofa. Mystery says some stuff, cut to dramatic shots of Spoon, Fred, J. Dog, Matador and Mystery, then The Spoon Man dropped the biggest surprise of the night (with the exception of Pradeep actually approaching women at the bar earlier in the evenin') when he raises his hand to volunteer gettin' the boot. He was such a nice guy that he took himself out of the Master Pickup Artist competition so that Fred could have the fuggy-fug medallion. UGH!

I'm just glad Joe A., Joe D., Brady or Kosmo didn't get the heave ho! I love those bitches!

Next week, there's supposed to be some dramz goin' down, and creative VH1 preview editing has it lookin' like Pradeep is at the center of it all. I guess homegirl starts backstabbin' people & shit.

LOVEZ!






<----- Spoon doin' his best Sean Lennon impersonation.

I <3 Reality TV

Hello, my name is Tara and I'm a reality show-aholic.

I admit it -- I'm hooked. It started with MTVs first season of The Real World in New York: Becky, Eric, Andre, Norman, Julie, Heather B. & Kevin -- I loved all those bitches!

In the new age of reality TV, producers have discovered that "manufactured reality" is really what sells (hey, I've seen Reality TV Secrets Revealed. I know what's up...) So yes, I know that most of it isn't "real". But it's like a train wreck: I just can't turn away.

I have to say that VH1 has probably cornered the market on the trashy goodness with shows like Flavor of Love (1 & 2), I Love New York (1 & upcoming 2), My Fair Brady & We're Getting Married, The Surreal Life (1-6), Kept, Rock of Love, Hogan Knows Best, etc.

But has anybody seen The Pickup Artist?! It's the latest hot mess to hit our beloved VH1, and boy is it a doozie. It's about 8 lovable losers (4 of whom are virgins) who've never had girlfriends and can't even talk to the opposite sex. They move into a mansion (I wonder what kind of housing budget VH1 has for its garbage shows...?) in hopes that this "Mystery" chap can teach 'em how to become a Master Pickup Artist. Basically, they wanna learn the magic word they can use that'll get 'em laid.

Admittedly, I watched the series premier Monday night out of curiosity. I was curious to see what type of men (or boys) would willingly sign up for a show of this caliber. I was also curious to see what this "Mystery" person was all about. But I was probably most curious to see what powers this said Mystery person possessed that made every woman in his presence want to peel off her thong and get busy.

Just look at these hot bitches! The douche in the furry hat is Mystery. The tool at front left is "Matador" and the Eminem mini-me at front right is "J. Dog". Seriously.

I loved this shit! I'm gonna watch just to see if what they're teachin' will actually work on real women -- it seemed to work on those sluts in the bar in the first epi. Oh, who'm I kiddin'? After a few Coors Lights I'd jump on Mystery so fast he wouldn't know what hit him, honey.

Virgin Post

I finally bit the bullet and created a blog, at the request of almost everyone that knows me. I love to write (and I'm a total smartass) so all of my friends have been wonderin' when I was gonna take my show on the road...well, here it is, folks!

And now that the Kastle has been created, I suddenly feel like I've been put on the spot. Instantly I'm under pressure to say somethin' funny, cute, scathing, evil...and I'm a total blank. I'm 4 sentences in and I have writer's block.

Well, I can always write somethin' about my Atlanta Braves. If ya don't know, I'm a huge Bravos fan and have been for years. Many, many gut-wrenching years. Division winners 14 years straight with only 1 World Series title to show for it. Yea, I know, in the eyes of Braves-haters, ATL is the Big Momma of post-season chokers -- we fans have heard it all, ad nauseum (Mets fans are the absolute worst!).

I have an unhealthy relationship with my team. It's like livin' with an abusive boyfriend -- one game day it's euphoria, good times, celebration, jubilation, sweet lovin'; the next game day I'm gettin' bitch-slapped hither & yon. Take tonight's game for instance -- punch to the gut. Or, this game -- backhand to the chops. Or, this game -- roundhouse kick where the sun don't shine (by far one of the most crushing blows of the season for me). And don't get me started on this game. I won't go on...we'll be here for days.

Why do I stay with my abusive boyfriend also known as the Atlanta Braves? I love him. And I'm doin' it for the kids.