It's the first day of lent and I have survived the day without any white starches or calling people terrible names while driving. But I did almost kill a poor woman at the gym for changing the channel while I was watching RuPaul's Drag Race. Twixt Drag Race and The Bad Girls Club, my cardio requirements are fulfilled and so are my dreams of walking in high heels like those Queens.
The great thing about purging racism from your diet, is that it forces you to use other creative words to express your misanthropy. Now in this case, the woman was an fustilian* degenerate who obviously had NO respect for Gay Pop Culture. So instead of making a racist quip about Pearl Harbor, I simply gave her a dirty look and demanded she restore the channel to its rightful place. She did so, and for the first time in a long time, I was not the head rollin, lip poppin angry black girl. I was an asshole...but not a bigoted asshole.
(*Since I have given up racial slurs for lent, instead of making an evil comment on her pan-Asian heritage, I opted for an Elizabethan insult. Fustilian* is defined as a fat frowsy slut).
In other news on planet Brooks, I am suffering from a nasty case of writers block. I mean extreme cock blocking is happening in the brain. In case you don't know, I am a playwright. I am commissioned to write plays. My only job, is to make them good. Now in defense, I am a neophyte at this wordsmith game. I've only been writing since 2007. Currently I am writing a play that takes place in Brazil in the 1600s. Everytime I sit down to write, poop spills on the the keyboard and page stays blank.
Two things have changed in my life. One, I'm not drinking nearly as much as I used to. And two, I'm not working some shit job. I have hours to create in a serene environment and for some reason, it ain't poppin. I really want to create a wonderful story, so perhaps I will get a job at Wienerschnitzel and start shooting crystal meth. Then I'll give Tarell Alvin McCraney a run for his money. Mwhhha. Mwhhhhaaaaaaaaaaa.
Speaking of weird things, I really did play beer pong with Englebert Humperdinck's son. Well, I sat by and watched he and my friend Wes play. I am afterall, a black woman and felt like I would make Nell Carter weep from heaven if I played. Its important to step outside the black social circle occasionally. Too often we all become guilty of sticking to our own tribes. I like being the only fly in the buttermilk sometimes. Until Rap music comes on and the song is littered with the n-word. Things get weird FAST.
But it was fun to watch these boys get hammered. Englebert's son is a really nice bloke that I met thru my friend. I won't bother publishing his name, because its not nearly as cool as his father's. Man let me tell you, don't ever challenge a limey to a game of beer pong. Although it is a treasured pastime for whites in America, across the pond they do not play it. However, the English do throw darts...so their aim is dead on.
I have to say, I truly love living in Los Angeles. Yes, most people consider this place to be a barren-spirited, fake, dream killing town. And in many ways it is. But you NEVER know who you're going to spend your evening with. You can go over to a friends house for an intimate evening of hot dogs and strawberry ice cream, and you're having a good time. You know, you don't bother to take your lactaid pills and fart into her couch, forgo makeup and wear your saggy unsupportive bra and watch goofy shit on Youtube...next thing you know Jonathan from New Kids On the Block walks in and you're caught off guard. By the end of the night, you two are smearing relish all over one another, laughing your asses off and he's teaching you the choreography for "The Right Stuff".
I love the unpredictable nature of this city. At 2 am you may receive a phone call that you're invited to Prince's house for a private concert. At the 99cent Only Store, you see Diana Ross picking up Jesus candles. Once I was invited to a Tony party (yes there are theatre geeks here!) and unbeknownst to me for most of the night, I spent my time laughing and cracking jokes with the legendary Teri Garr. Boy she's a nice lady.
So for now, I'm gone to hang in there. I'm hoping the writers block will wain, and the my acting career will take off too. And I'd rather not go back to drinking 2-3 glasses of wine a night. So in the meantime I'm going to keep doing my thing and hopefully in years to come, some youngin will tell their friends how tales of how legendary J. Nicole Brooks vomited in their vestibule after playing beer pong with her Asian husband.
Ciao for now kiddies.
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