Whether you are a random Facebook friend, you follow me on Twitter or you know me in real life, you know two things about me...
1) I am a super fan of all things Clifford Joseph Harris, Jr. aka Tip aka T.I. aka The Kaaaang Bitch, and
2)  I believe with every ounce of my being that I deserve SPECIAL TREATMENT where ever I may go and most of the time I get it.

Now, imagine the combined feeling of sheer joy and unadulterated anguish I felt when I learned that Mr. Pussy Pumper #1 was going to be signing his new novel "Power and Beauty" at Barnes & Noble in Santa Monica, CA!


ATTENTION:  This is NOT some sordid groupie tale. I often find myself clarifying my love for Tip's work as an artist because I'm cute and I'm smart (and obviously vain), but mostly because I'm a girl...and the only reason I could possibly be into T.I. is because I clearly think he's sexy...WRONG! I actually really enjoy his rap style, content and delivery. I find his intelligence refreshing and his vocabulary unmatched. He's also hilarious (See HERE...the fun starts at around 2:12). He's an attractive guy, sure...but he's nowhere near my "He Can Get It" List. Nowhere!

The Foreplay
1) I contemplated not going at all because in my head I pictured being surrounded by paparazzi and groupies and bad ass kids.
2)  I called the bookstore and John The Employee eased my fuckery fears, informing me that Tip would be in a room...upstairs...and you couldn't get in that room unless you had a wristband...and you couldn't get a wristband unless you purchased a book.  I was informed that the line would begin forming around 6 PM and the signing would start promptly at 7 PM. I purchased my book/wristband over the phone and was told they would be waiting for me at the register.
3)  After work, I high-tailed and hit it on down to Santa Monica (some 45 minutes away with traffic).
4)  I arrived, grabbed my waiting items from the register and headed upstairs to...

(*Deep Sigh*)
One of my girlfriends text me this morning, saying "Call me on your way to work! Fuckery of the Day!"  I could tell by the exclamation points and the fact that the text came around 6 AM, that I didn't want to miss this.  With her permission I am sharing the hilarity of her fuckery laden sexual experience...or lack there of.

As you know I don't share real names or truly identifying information on this site but I will tell you THIS...She went to visit a football player in Chicago.  Now whether plays for the Chicago Bears or just happens to live in Chicago...I'll never tell.

OUT OF BOUNDS:
She arrived in Chicago to visit an old flame...let's just call him "FLAME."  They go to a nice dinner, they engage in errr uhhh "interesting" conversation (most of which was about himself and how he doesn't trust women) and several libations of course.  Throughout dinner she noted that he constantly applied CHERRY CHAPSTICK...not to be confused with the "original" or "spearmint" flavors or carmex, that most men wear...it was CHERRY for sure. 

When the food arrives he demands that she "bless the food," bows his head and closes his eyes without giving her a chance to protest.  A little thrown off by the demand her "grace" went something like this:

"Dear God, Thank You For This Food. Amen."

Unimpressed, FLAME throws a bit of a tantrum: "Are you serious?! Is that how you say grace?? Put your head back down!!"  FLAME then "re-blessed" the food.  (At this point I am laughing uncontrollably)...but the fun doesn't end there ladies and gents...oh no...

I'm going to stop apologizing for the lapses in time between my posts because this shit is just far TOO HARD to do every day when you have a real life to live. You know my heart.  Moving on...

I went to church with a friend on First Sunday because I wanted to start the year off right, with a little Jesus...  Lord knows I need him! As we pulled into the parking garage and began searching for a park, I knew right away that demons were amongst us! As we climbed each parking level I noticed:

• Empty parking spaces....with cones in front of them (Who are you saving them for? HUH?!)
• Monstrous SUVs crammed into spaces clearly marked "Compact"
• Corner spaces where our car could clearly fit...but no one bothered to make it a 'parking' space

I already know what you're about to say...Where the hell have you been Tiffany Darling??  Well, I love you guys and I'm trying to be more consistent, but sometimes I get swamped with my real life. Don't judge me.

Whether you care or not about professional football, you know that press conference meltdowns are where all the fun is!!  This little gem comes compliments of Arizona Cardinals Quarterback Derek Anderson after last nights 21 point loss to the San Francisco 49ers (Yes...they still have a team).

apparently broke into to a 70-year-old woman's house in Akron, Ohio, ransacked the place, then burst in on her while she was uhhh...letting her metabolism work its magic...demanding drugs and cash.....all while wearing a clown mask!!! But what's funnier is the old lady--who doesn't appear to be the least bit phased--offers him blood pressure medication and sleeping pills to supplement Oxycontin.  And to bring it on home...Granny actually considered taking the thief down or as she put it "doing ninja stuff him" but she decided against it and sat peacefully on the toilet.

Video after the jump.  Please, please, get into the Auburn Afro with the matching sunglasses!  Granny is for sure styling on you haters!

The Facts

• My office is in a 12 story building with 3 parking levels.  Our mailroom happens to be on one of the parking levels in garage (<--remember this important fact).  
• Our mail is delivered anywhere between the hours of 2:00 pm and never (recssionary flow).

Me:  Uhhh Suglasses....really?!

File Clerk:  Ohhh yeeeah I...

Me:  You put sunglasses on to check the mail??

File Clerk:  Yeah well the light was uhhh bothering my eyes

Me:  Oh ok......

Me:  Wait!  Sooo was there's sun in the garage??

He also sprays himself with cologne at random times during the day and week....so I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

The Background
So my friend authorized me to share this story with all of you.  I've decided that I actually like her writing style so instead of giving you my version of...I'm going to bless you with a simple cut and paste!


The Fuckery (as told by a fellow Darling)
I get home and the house is a MESS. Sh*t thrown in every which direction, tools scattered on the floor, and then I notice him at the kitchen sink, JABBING at the garbage disposal with a screwdriver or something.  As I'm putting my stuff down, I notice Pluto’s bowl is missing.  This is a very important item: PLUTO IS MY FISH!

I start looking around to see if he's put him in a cup somewhere for some reason and then…my heart sinks a little, and I instantly believe that he must have accidently dropped him in the sink.

Below is the video for one my fave old school jams:  "Don't Look Any Further" by Dennis Edwards featuring Siedah Garrett.  I know you're wondering what possible f*ckery could exist in a video for 1984??

What do you get when you combine a certified letter, a racist woman, a postal worker, strippers and pizza?

Fuckery. Of. The. Day....of course

So apparently "Joe the Postman" delivered a certified letter to a woman in Hingham, Massachusets.  The woman signed for the letter and then decided that she might be getting served made a mistake and tries to return the letter to the postal worker because it's addressed to her husband....seems simple enough right?

WRONG!!

Joe Postman tells the woman that he cannot take the letter back and all hell breaks lose!  Not only did she call him all types of N-words, she even slapped him!  Apparently Joe Postman lost his job behind the incident (I know, I'm confused too), and decided to post the video on YouTube in an effort to have the matter investigated!!  Way to go!!



Well what about the strippers and the pizza, you ask...
Oh yeah, someone posted the woman's name, address and phone numbers in the comments and a bunch of people did what any rational person would do...sent  pizzas and strippers to the woman's address!
Now I will not repost the woman's personal information, because I'm sure it's probably illegal, but you can find all of her personal information as well as that of her relatives in the comments on YouTube (reason #245 why the internet is the devil's playground). If you have the overwhelming urge to DO SOMETHING, you can call the post office that the gentleman was fired from at 781-749-0610.

All this for a certified letter...

Part 2 of the video (and the slap) after the jump.