The 2nd Time I Got Caught Not Fucking...

I did some crazy shit as a teenager. Not crazy like murdering old ladies or shooting up dope or middle schools- just typical 'man, if my momma ever found out what I did, they'd be reading my obituary in the paper" shit.

Let's take a trip down memory lane to 2001. I was a sophomore in high school, dudes still rocked Girbaud jeans and Bo Jacksons and my best friend, at the time, was Melanie. As a teenager, Melanie seemed cool at the time but as I grew older, I realized she was a just a jealous, bi-polar, psychotic bitch with the tendency to sleep with her friend's boyfriend, husband or daddy. Simply put- Melanie had issues that I was too young to realize but we had fun together. You know how everyone has that cousin that you love going to their house because you do the illest shit but your mother pretty much banned you from going? Well, Melanie was the cousin that I wanted to hang around and do hoodrat shit with and, together, we were rebels that missed a total of 72 days of freshman year hooking school to watch videos and eat biscuits. <---No, there was no weed involved. Someone said that eating biscuits would give us big asses and we wanted big asses soooo... we ate biscuits... like everyday. Don't ask..

Moving on...

After our parents found out that we skipped school damn near half of freshman year, her parents banned us from being friends but just like Romea and Juliet, we snuck around to be friends. sidebar: now, that I'm typing this shit, I'm feeling really gay but I'll continue.

It was March 2001 and my school was out for professional development day or someone burned a trash can- cant remember. Anyway, Melanie had hooked school and stayed home that day so I blocked my number (remember the "you cant be friends with Khaki" rule? Her mom was on that caller ID all day, every day) and called her up letting her know I was coming to get my clothes she borrowed. She told me that it was cool and that she had company but I could still come by.

I walked to her house, knock on the door and she comes down with a Winnie the Pooh nightshirt on and no bra. After the giggles and "girl, who you got up there?" conversation, she locks the door and tells me to wait a minute while she goes to get my clothes. I sit on the chair next to the door and a few minutes later i see a shadow come up the steps to her porch and hear someones keys jingling. Peeping out the window, I see her stepfather who I called BeBop because he looked just like that thing from Ninja Turtles.

Anyway, my heart stopped and I damn near pissed on myself. I knew he couldn't get in because she locked it from the inside but what was I supposed to do? I must've said "fuck!" a million times while I contemplated my next course of action.

After I promised Jesus that I would never be bad again if he let me out of this, I came up with three options. (A) Run upstairs, tell Melanie and we work something out. (B) Not tell Melanie, run out the side or back door and just find out what happened later or (C) just stand there and cry hoping my silent tears would make him go away.

Had I known that Melanie was a crusty bitch that would later fuck my boyfriend, I would've went with (D) Open the door, say "Hi Mr. Bebop. Mel is up there fucking some 23 year old that she just met in the Baltimore chatroom" then bounce but, like a true friend, I chose Option A. I ran upstairs with my soft bottom Mary Janes on and lightly knocked on the door. Agitated, Mel opens up the door and asks "what's up?".

Stuttering, I tell her that Bebop is here.

"Stop playing! Here? Like, downstairs here?" she asks me with her nekkid self wrapped in a sheet. Im willing to bet that her cooch dried right the fuck up as soon as she heard her stepfathers name.

"Yes MUTHAFUCKA and he's going to kick our ass. What are we going to do?".

So, Mel the Brilliant tells us to stay upstairs and try to get up to the attic, which was in her room, while she went downstairs to open the door. We knew her stepfather had to get back to work and that he wouldn't be there long so the best option would be to hide until he left. Bebop was mean like Jermaine Jackson's hairline and Melanie had told me before that he would "abuse" her and they would physically fight while her mother just watched. I didn't know whether to believe her or not but he did look like he killed puppies as a child so I made up my mind early on to not fuck with that man.

So, Mel goes downstairs to open the door and dude is sitting on the bed with damn near no clothes on asking whats going on, who's bebop, how old is Melanie blah blah blah. Basically, all the shit he should've asked before hitting the Hotpocket of some chick he met in an AOL chatroom. I tell him that her stepfather is a mean fuck that's downstairs and if he doesn't get that attic door open we're going to die or he's going to jail for statutory rape. This is when my distaste for short guys developed.

This 5 ft 7 dude is hopping up and down trying to reach the cord to open the attic. I'm thinking to myself that this short bitch isn't going to get it so I have to find somewhere to hide before Bebop hears the jumping and comes up stairs with his machete. In true white girl fashion- I lightly ran to the bathroom, jumped in the shower and hid behind the shower curtain.

Breathing hard with my hand over my mouth, I can hear Melanie explaining to Bebop some bullshit story as to why she was home and him asking her questions about chores. She tells him she did them and that she's going upstairs to clean her room. Thinking the coast is clear, I hop out the shower and run to her room to see her standing in front of the guy and asking where I was.

She says that she doesn't know when he is leaving and she asks us to hide on the side of the bed, under a blanket because he looked like he was about to come upstairs to change his work shirt.

"I'm not hiding under no fucking blanket Mel." I tell her.

The 20-something year old agrees, "Nah, I'm not down with that shit either shorty".

Seeing the tears well up in her eyes and hearing Bebop's footsteps come towards the steps quickly changed our minds and me and ole boy go to the side of the bed and hide under this big ass pink blanket.

A few seconds later, I hear her stepdad come in and I'm shaking like Ali. I know im about to be murdered next to some dude that smells like 15 year old pussy and I didn't even do anything.

"Who's up here?" he asks.

"Nobody- that was the TV." Melanie says with obvious guilt in her voice.

"What was the TV?" he asks as he inches closer.

Flashes of dude on Menace to Society saying "you know you done fucked up, right" went through my head. I could hear him walking closer to us with his work boots and just as I'm about to bust out in tears and deny everything, this muthafucka rips the blanket off of us and says "AH-HA!" like he just solved a fucking murder mystery.

"So, y'all fuckin in my house?!?!?" he asks.

Shaking my head, I stand up and, like a scared bitch, say "No, sir. Not me. I don't even know him.. i just came to get my clothes and then..."

WWWWAAAAPPPPP

I see Melanie go down as her stepfather bitch slaps her into the dresser.

I look at her laying across the dresser and put my hand over my mouth as I visualize this big 6'5 negro slapping me next. I start planning my next move... jump out the window? Nope, I'm wearing Mary Janes and i am not a damn cat. Start crying? Bingo. I start crying... hard.. Chris Brown 2010 BET Awards hard.

He points to us, with these crazy ass eyes and and says "You muthafuckas got 15 seconds to get out my house before I start kicking ass".

Needless to say, both the guy and I jumped across the bed and pushed each other as we ran down the steps. I didn't even make it to the porch step and the rapist was backing up the one-way street with screeching tires.

Scared that she wasn't lying about her stepdad being abusive, ya girl Khaki grew some balls and went back in the house to save her dear friend Melanie. I walk back in and her step dad is telling her mother that he came home and smelled sex and knew something was up and then saw me there and wanted to kick all of our asses and he knew they fucked because the guy didnt realize that he dropped the condom when he pushed me to run down the steps.

I heard that man say he wanted to kick my ass and saw Melanie sitting on the couch covering her face and I lost my testicles and I bitched up again. I asked if I could go upstairs to get my cell phone I left and he told me that I could.

I was brave and determined to save my friend as I went upstairs and scribbled a note telling her to meet me at the the corner of LochRaven and Windemere. Balling up the paper, I went back downstairs and threw it at Melanie before making my break. I ran about three blocks and hid in an azalea bush until I saw Melanie running towards me looking like she just got in a fight with Mayweather. I ask her what happened and she said he found the note, she hit him in the head with a candy dish and ran to meet me.

Before I could say anything, I see his red truck pull up to us....

Friends? How many of us have them!!??!?!

There’s a commonality amongst black women and that’s that we don’t effing get along. We don’t walk in the mall holding hands or kiss each other when we depart. None of that Paris Hilton and Nicole Ritchie shit. If we didn’t meet a woman at work, school or around the way, we aint friends. I meet a lot of women and they agree that they don’t and refuse to not deal with many women- for pretty much the same  reasons… attitudes.

I, for one, am one of those “I don’t fuck with bitches” typa women. Now, you all out there in virtual friendland are the shit but the truth of the matter is that women like you come far and between. There are a lot of grown up women that still act like children. There are a lot of grown ass women that get emotional, throw bitch fits, and will stab you in the back with no hesitation. I know women that will fuck her friend’s man in a heartbeat. For those and many other reasons, I keep my female friends list down to the bare minimum- 2 maybe 3.

I’m OK with the few female friends that I have and I love them to death. I treat them all the same and I respect them as though they are one of my sisters. We have great conversations and even if we don’t agree with one another, we respect each other and the choices that we make.

BUT, here’s the kicker, every once in a while, you’ll get tricked into thinking that you have a friend but, oh no, it’s just a bitch with a costume on. I can not deal with phoniness, sensitivity and emotions. Save that shit for your boyfriend.

I’m a guy with tits and a dress and this becomes a problem when you’re friends with a female. I don’t pick fights and I rarely discuss my feelings with a female. The women that I consider my sisters and real friends know this and that’s why we have a wonderful sisterhood… we have an understanding. There’s no trying to change one another. We accept each other for who they are. For instance, I’m a good friend… you need me for money- I’m there. You need me to kick someone ass- I’m down BUT I can be sarcastic… and my sense of humor may be a bit ignorant… but does that make me a bad friend? If it does, then fuck me; I’m just a bad friend and I can live with that. I can’t live with altering my identity to appease a bitch because she’s not happy with herself or has some sort of personality disorder. I get along with men because I act like a man… point blank.

When I sit back and wonder why I am able to get along with all of these wonderful women online but limit my friendships with women in real life, I come up with no real reason why. Maybe it’s the fact that you haven’t met me in person so you know that I’m being all me and you wont take things so personal???

I’ve factored in the attitudes, the neediness, the phoniness, periodic bouts of jealousy and all the other bullshit that comes along with being a BFF to a black woman and I’ve come to the conclusion that life is too short to be worrying about women that arent worth the worry. Fortunately for me, that’s just one less Christmas gift I have to buy.

So, let’s open this shit up for discussion. Women, do you have many female friends? Why or why not? What do you think about this?

Wedding Crasher

Is it true that a man can not be friends with an attractive female? Nope!

My friend's, Bet, soon to be wife seems to think so which is why she ripped up my invitation to the wedding. Bet and I have known each other for years now... I want to say about 6 or 7 years but we recently just became good friends within the last 2 or 3 years. So- Bet is marrying this chick on Saturday and I ask him where's my invitation and he gives me this look like he doesn't want to tell me something.

He explains to me that his 312 lb gargoyle of a fiancee ripped my invite up and told him that I wasn't invited. She goes on to say that she doesn't "approve" of our friendship because she believes that "men cant be friends with an attractive female. Female friends are just women that you haven't fucked yet".

Now- this rationale is coming from a woman who isn't a man or an attractive female so her theory couldn't be based off of truth nor experience. Can one be so damn insecure that they wouldn't allow their soon-to-be-husband to continue to be friends with someone that they've known for years? Bet is the same man that I told y'all i wouldn't fuck with someone else's snatch yet she seems to think that given the opportunity I would hop right on. Bitch, please.

I would not. I've had many a opportunity and was even offered the position of being his mistress - with financial benefits- which i respectfully declined. (Y'all know I'm no one's mistress- well... never mind.)

anyway...

I have a real problem with insecure people - especially women. It's not me that you don't trust, it's him. You don't trust him because you know that you are lacking in something. In this case... the sex is wack and she's cheated on him before. She knows it's unjust to complain of lock jaw, give lazy head and bullshit pussy and not expect her man to cheat. I'm not invited to the wedding because your pussy aint popping like it should??? Now, he's no saint and I have text messages to prove this but it's not fair to assume that your man is that fine (because he aint) that any attractive woman would swoop right in and fuck him. Love has definitely made her blind and delusional.

She chooses to hate on my strictly platonic friendship with her fiancee instead of self-evaluating and taking the steps needed to fulfill her man's desires and be the best bitch that she can be. If she was smart she'd befriend me and keep me close. Instead she pisses me off which gives me the motivation to fuck her man. Now, I wont fuck him because that would require some type of attraction to make me wet and that's not there but I will crash her wedding... wearing a white dress... and humming "I'd Take Yo man". Her wedding is being held at some shack of a Baptist church not Fort Knox and no body will stop me from showing up to my boy's wedding.

So with that being said... all of you insecure women with this fucking chip on your shoulder and this "every girl want my man" mentality- now is the time to do an assessment of yourself. Question if you trust your man enough to let him have female friends- whether they're attractive or unfortunate looking. If you don't, then you need to either leave him or step ya shit up. Take a confidence pill and reflect on your relationship. Ripping up invitations, shitting on the female friend and forcing your man to disassociate himself from the friend wont solve your problem. It is possible for a man and woman to be friends and not fuck. The probability of friends fucking increases when that man has an insecure girlfriend that could only suck a dick if it spat chocolate and said girlfriend pisses off the mean ass female friend so much that she would fuck him out of revenge.
Eat that.

I dont trust...

anyone... well, there are some that I trust but for the most part... I don't trust any body. Between what I've learned while studying law and things that I have experienced, i have been "trained" to pick apart what i am told to get the truth. I don't like being lied to but, unfortunately, it happens and I consider myself to be a great Bullshit detector. On the flip side to that... i am also an emotional fool and I fall hard and fast which sometimes conflicts with my BS detector.

I'm sitting here asking myself... do I want to trust people or do I want to be a paranoid freak that has to investigate everyone that I bring into my life. Can there be a happy medium? I want to say yes BUT I cant. I have a child... someone that I am responsible for. A little person that is affected by everything that I do and my life and his life coincides. I cant allow people into my life without making sure everything is on the up and up.

So yeah... i have no problem running your shit through the MD judiciary system. Working in apartment management has given me the knowledge on how to check leases, credit, criminal and civil case history and I take that knowledge and use it to my advantage to make sure that I'm not being lied to. I listen to what you say but I always doubt. No benefit of the doubt for me as there is no damn benefit of having doubts. The littlest of a lie will make me upset because I believe that if you'd lie to me about dumb shit you'd lie to me about big shit and that's a no no.

So... I'm giving all of my readers, stalkers (those that know me, found me, read my shit and try to pretend that they don't), ex's, friends and family members the opportunity to tell me anything that they feel I should know. I am only asking the questions that I already know the answer to.