i like routines.
they keep me sane.
i have a daily and nightly shower routine.
i have a routine for getting dressed.
i have a routine for doing my hair.
i have a routine for cleaning.
i have a routine for going to class.

my name is mimi and i'm a slightly [no] anal [sex] bitch. i will eat your babies.

when i come home after class, the first thing i do is take off my jeans.
maybe the shirt i'm wearing. depends how hot it is and whether or not i've started to perspire.
but the jeans are definitely coming off.

i go in the kitchen and make sure that asshole took the garbage out like i told him and get some water. i tend to not drink anything if i'm gonna be away from home for more than 3 hours. i don't wanna have to use a public restroom. i'm one thirsty bitch by the time i get home.

i go to my little desk and check my email.
all 5 accounts. just lovely.
i don't need no fucking penis enlargement.
i don't even have a penis!

then, i ponder whether or not i should let satan of her cage.
i do it just cause i don't want PETA on my ass.
those bitches are crazy.
i let the little bitch run around while i'm trying to find something to lounge around in. i usually go with some of J's boxers or sweats.
then i take the little fucker out.
of course that shit doesn't go down without a fight.

that little fucker be clawing and biting my wrists and shit while i'm trying to hook the leash to her collar. i'm telling you, one of these days that goddamn leash is gonna *break* and maya's stank ass is gonna go play in some traffic.
so, i spend about 15 minutes waiting on that prissy bitch to take a shit and i come back in and get in bed.
one of two things will happen:
either 1) i'll watch t.v. and blog and wait for J to come home or 2)take my ass to sleep and wake up before J comes home.

either way, i stop whatever i'm doing when J comes home.
that's how the dicknosis works.
lately, it's been more of the latter than the former though.
i like sleep.
sleep is gooooood.

when he gets home, he climbs into to bed with me.
i straddle him and take his clothes off while he's telling me about his day and i tell him how i hate people.
i never understand shit he's saying.
he knows exactly what i'm gonna say.
it works out fairly well.
once he's nekkid, we do the nasty and go to sleep.
what happens after we wake up really doesn't matter.
life is wonderful.

today, my routine was altered cause of some dumb bitch who refuses to move on with her life.

the day was going as usual until the dick donor came home.
we're in bed and i'm trying to get him out of those damn clothes cause i'm as horny as pitbull in heat and i wanna fuck.
his stupid phone rings.
i grab it and look at the caller id and he's like "who is it?"
"your little girlfriend"
he's like "tell her i died or something."
i pinched his nipple.
i don't like hearing that shit.

::little background info: the little girlfriend? that bitch Sam he dated when we were in high school. i don't like her. she doesn't like me. whatever. i don't really care about J talking to her cause the bitch just isn't on my level. he told me she's still pretty bitter about their little breakup or whatever because it was "all [my] fault". again, whatever. she's worse than that other little bitch that refuses to accept the breakup::

so, i answered his phone and when the bitch heard my voice, she hung up.
i chuckled and told J and he was like "whatever. blow me so i can go to sleep."
psh. i called the bitch back.
she answered.
Me: "Sam, do you wanna talk to J?"
S: "Um...yeah?"
M: "Yeah, that little schoolgirl shit? Cut it. 'kay?"

dead silence.

S: "We would still be together if weren't for you!"

dismount the horsey.

M:"Daaahhhling, if you really believe that, seek professional help. Immediately."
S: "We would!"
M: "Mmkay, let's break down your little "relationship" with J, shall we? We shall. First, the only reason he ever asked you out was because his first two choices were taken. Who was number one? Moi. Number two? Your best friend. Ooh, burn. Second, the reason he did pick you was because your friend told him you were an easy lay. Too bad you couldn't handle the dick. Tsk tsk. Such a turnoff. He was gonna dump you but you cried and made him feel bad. And as we all know, J's a little sweetheart so he let you hang on to that little label of "J's girlfriend" cause he felt sorry for you. Sweet as pie, yes he is. Now, do you need more specific accounts of him choosing me over you because he didn't want your sorry ass or is that sufficient enough for you to go kill yourself?"

click.
she hung up.

i'm pretty sure she pulled her hair out or cried or something.
oh, and what was J doing during that conversation?
convulsing as he was trying to suppress his laughter.
silly bitch.
everyone knows i had that boy whipped long before she ever came into the picture.
i love being me sometimes.
team meems!

but oh no, shit didn't go back to the routine as it should have.

a little rewind:
today, i went to the bookstore to get J's and my books for our classes.
while i was there, i ran into one of my friends who just happens to be a basketball player.
we engage in some small talk and then he's like 'oh, i'll get your books for you. one of the perks of being an athlete is not having to pay for anything.'
i was like 'fuck yeah. i can spend that money on shit i don't need.' so i called J and asked him which book he needed so i could get it.

fastforward to this evening after that little bit with the girl stuck in 2003.

J: "How much were the books?"
M: "I don't know."
J: "Well, get the receipt so I can give you the money back."
M: "I didn't pay for 'em. D got 'em for me."
J: "The fuck you mean "D got 'em for me.""
M: "D got 'em. He gets shit for free so he got the books for me."
J: "Tell me you did not let some other guy pay for my shit."
M: "Babe, let it go. It's just a book."
J: "It's not about the fucking book, Mimi! It's about you letting some guy pay for yours and my shit. I take care of that."

he's too cute when he's upset.

M: "Testosterone overload or what?"
J: "Ya damn right. What the fuck do I look like letting some dude pay for not only my girl's shit, but mine too? You're out of your rabid-assed mind if you think that shit's gonna happen."
M: "I swear if you say "shit" one more time, I'm gonna spit in your fucking face."
J: "Fuck you."
M: "Psh. Fuck you."
J: "I plan to."
M: "Ugh. Whatever."

he was passionately pissed about the book thing.
fuck ovary punching.
he killed my baby makers.
for serious.
and what the fuck is with him making demands while we're fucking?
"whose is it?!"
"louder!"
"say you're gonna take those books back tomorrow!"
"i can't hear you!"
"fix me a sammich."

he's lucky i like him.

i got some of that good-sex sleep.
unfortunately, i slept too long so now it's 11:30 and my ass is wide awake.
of course that punk bitch is out like a fat chick in dodgeball.

what the fuck is he doing to sleep as well as he does?
he can take a four hour nap in the middle of the day and still go to bed when he normally does with no problem whatsoever.
that irks the fuck outta me.

where's my damn nyquil?

Labels: this is who i am

--i refused to spellcheck @ 11:32 PM | |