I am from the Do or Die... Never Ran. Never Will. (Unless of course... they shootin') Easy!"
September 30, 2005
Friday Funny....
Sssh! she's writing.. brooklyn babe9/30/2005  13 you don't say?
September 26, 2005
Has Anyone Seen.....
..... Friday????
It's the missing piece.
Who ever finds it first holla!
'Cause BK Babe needs.... fast.
(only piece I've been picking up all day is Monday!)
Sssh! she's writing.. brooklyn babe9/26/2005  22 you don't say?
September 21, 2005
"Blue Lights in the Basement"

She knew she was not suppose to be out this late, but with this new contract on life she signed in immigrant rebellion called, "I'm American now," she was out, and scandalous.

As she scurried across the now deserted streets of Brooklyn, in what appeared to be nothing but a short bubble coat that revealed her track toned runner legs, her walk announced defiance. Her heels not high enough to hide her age.

Even though her body said the contrary; from the neck down her body spoke a grown woman's language. As her once plum shaped breast eagerly stood at the attention of onlookers' admiration, in its now present full cantaloupe form. Her hips bellowed out like that of a woman's moan, only to be muffled by the arch in her back which precisely introduced her "apple bottom."The clicks of her heels competed against the sounds 20 degree gales that ebbed and flowed as she hussled through the wee hour winds to her first BlueLights in the Basement (Bashment) Party.

Upon reaching the historically intact brownstone she approached the front door, in haste stepping down two steps to huddle from the cold within the entryway. She tapped once then pause, and then tapped three more times, nothing. Her knuckles now numb from frost, she tried again, tap, pause, tap, tap, tap. The door opens, as a blue haze of sensimilla smoke escapes into the crisp night, a long locked dred at the door greets her with eyes of glaze, the bass of ghetto sized speakers vibrate at her feet, as she's allowed entry with a nod. Once inside the the jammed packed party,

she stands like a tourist taking in a scene only viewed on a postcard, for the first time. Adjusting to dimly lit aclove, she spotted him. Her naivete returns full force as the herbal hemp bouquet try their best to entranced her. Her defenses are down as her senses start to give in.

To divert her nervousness she looks away quickly for familiar faces in her crew, once located, and head nods acknowledged, she looked back to his position. Gone. Her awkwardness began to ease, as she felt secure enough to be a bit unruly, just a bit. Like a runner before the race she slowly warmed up her waist underneath her coat, to sounds of the hypnotic reggae rhythms; as the voice of "Sanchez" summoned her with his rendition of the Boyz to Men track "If I ever Fall...."

Unzipping her bubble coat, she began to reveal her outfits were at conflict, the coat said winter, while her outfit underneath said sizzling summer. As if on cue, the removal of her coat had the assistance of distinct hands coming from behind her. To nervous to look back, as her coat disappeared, she cheesed on the inside, but set a straight indifferent face on the outside. He eloquently drew her too him with the pull of just two fingers. With the boom of the bass still pounding under their feet, they began to dance. A deep silent dance. As warm hands began to massage and melt the steel of cold legs, like therapy, she felt her stomach begin to flutter; as these hands started to reach for parts that were most naive to her... she feared her contract was about to be breached....

An excerpt from my book peeps, just wanted to share.... Princess Dominique .... *thanks and hugs*

S Thorne, Copyright (c) 2005 "Blue Lights in Basement" Moore Black Press

Sssh! she's writing.. brooklyn babe9/21/2005  41 you don't say?
September 18, 2005
Head Out My Butt!
.... last weeks events left me feeling like a darn broke blues singer on the corner out in the rain, with a one string guitar, and hole in my sock and my big toe peaking through.... the operative word in the sentence is "broke," on so many levels:
  • broke pockets
  • broke focus
  • broke motivation
  • broke spirit

Living on "Doubt Boulevard...."

I was just about to send out invitation to my own pity party (where I would of been the only attendee), when I decided to but the "breaks" on all this brokenness, and mend me back up, you know "Lively Up Myself!"

Taking the damn blazing hot microscope off me, and think about others who got bigger shit going on in their life, to take quote from an episode on "Pensacola Wings of Gold" (don't ask, I worked in Television, I had no choice) when dude was arguing with his self-centered girlfriend, this quote best fit me: "Yo, Real Things are Happening to Real People, It's not about You right now!"

Well that's what a voice said to me loud and clear, as I scratched the needle up off my own "unproductive" broken record, and decided to switch the tune. I also decided to stop listening to the same broken record some friends have been playing at their own pity parties as well, instead I'll pray for them, as I pray for my darnself... (see Romans 7:21, to see what I'm talking about...)

Anyhoo after church, a couple of girlfriends and I, each decided to cook a dish, and take it out on the street and feed the homeless (and evacuees). I made catfish, red beans and rice, salmon and rice, and broccoli. One home girl made sausage, peppers and onions, rice, and mixed veggies, the other baked a pound cake from scratch (my hat tips off to her, I'm a "box" kind of girl).

We hit up a shelter than headed to a park, where one lil white lady sat knitting, I asked if she was hunger, she said "a little" I was just about to tell her options, when she just took the plate, as started eating right there, next thing I knew folks were lining up at my homegirl's jeep like they knew were coming. We ran out of food and still had folks in line...They were humble, and grateful, and sat down right there and ate, they didn't even ask us, what was in the styrofoam containers, now I don't know if that was trust, or just straight hunger, but I know it taught me a lesson, if I'm going to doubt anything, doubt my limits.

All in all I had a be-e-a-u-ti-FULL day.


Beddy Bye I go Zzzzzz.....

Sssh! she's writing.. brooklyn babe9/18/2005  40 you don't say?
September 16, 2005
Must Be a Brooklyn Moon
Disclaimer: When Going thru a storm... Keep Going.... Statistics show that during Full Moons, people are more likely to kill, be at war, or go crazy. Above all more "freak" accidents and ass-backward occurrences are likely to take place during a Full Moon than any other absurd time in your already crazy life.
Welcome to my freaky week!
Where even something as simple as taking time to blog was not in the cards.
The corky side of me has always paid attention moments of clairvoyance, where my energy, stamina and focus is heightened, where procrastination is not even an option, its during these times that I can't sleep, up to the wee hours of the morning doing something creative and productive, its usually during a Full Moon, that I am my best.
This "Lunatic" go round however, it was not in the cards for me to be creative, as my best was put to the test; as one assbackward thang, after another assbackward thang, came to test me. To my Lunar suprise, I was like that of a cucumber, cool calm and reserved. Whoah? (Not me... I'm a straight Drama Queen, matter a fact I teach Drama Queen no-etiquette workshops...lol)
This calm me, left me with a whirlwind of ephiphanies, that I'm going to sum up Brooklyn Style:
"Shit don't happen to break you, shit happens to make you!"
(what are you made of? Rock Paper Scissors...)
Sssh! she's writing.. brooklyn babe9/16/2005  23 you don't say?
September 07, 2005
Confessions of an "Out" Girl
Okay I am refreshingly "pooped." in the midst of all this sadness.... I decided to flip the "sad" script, and share something lighter...After popping in and out of the set for a bit on the travel tip.... A much needed break (which I have extended), where all I wanted to do is just stop the clock for a bit, and not feel the weight of the world on my 5'4' shoulders. Taking a peek back in time, this is how my clock stop, as I was on the "GO."
friday 3:00pm GO - bags packed, plants watered, homeboy gives me a lift to the airplane, hand him the keys to my crib, pat him a friendly ass pat on his left cheek, and send him on his way.
(he's like a "sista" to me.... if you know what i mean.... )
5:00pm GO - plane is overbooked, i'm about to be moved to sit with cargo pretty soon, as shit looks like a mass exodus to babylon, i swear its sounds like a goat is on the plane, but nope a young baby. I'm sandwhiched in between 2 sisters who are evacuating N.O., they are in good spirits considering, I take a page from their book.
7:00pm GO- ahh the sounds of back of traffic, cursing, and horns, feels good to be in it, but not of. Hopped in a cab heading up to Harlem, stop in and see the "Mr" for a spell, and lay in some much missed arms for a bit. We pop a nice bottle of Jamaican Wine.
10:00pm GO- get a text from my roaddawg with address & "free code word" for tonights party
11:00pm GO - i've upgraded my wine, we sippin hennessey now, oh-oh, he know I can't do this stuff, my heads start to do a downward spin, pillow here I come, still got my pumps on.
10:00am GO- Cell phone charged I'm in route to meet a home girl
12 noon GO - Oh shit it's NO TAX weekend, how could I forget, mama needs a new pair of shoes, I'll catch with homegirl later
3:00pm GO - I with my shopping partner in crime, bags in tow, (sale, items only of course) time for lunch, Pizza is the carb of choice, then it off to hunt some more we "Go".
11:00pm GO back home, rested up, and dressing to gear up and head out, take it back up uptown. Tonight its hip hop, and my feet are ready, let's "Go."
7:12 am GO cell phone rings, its my homegirl asking me what i'm doing.... "uhhhhhh sleeping" I reply.... she's says no your not, your coming with me to backyard breakfast party.
WTF? (Gotta love Trinidadians....)
I hope they play some gospel, cause church folks are going to be mad.
8:34 am GO the smell of curry and charcol, surround me...I am whining my waist to sounds of some ole calypso tunes, while a live steel pan band plays. The place is packed pecs, and biceps, dudes smelling of their sweetest "come get me" cologne. Ladies are looking like beenie man music video in their scarely covered Saturday "night" time outfits.... parading out in the sun on early on a sunday morning.... i'm not mad at ya'll, I just wish i knew, i could of got my "trash and ready" wear in gear.... its cool. I call my girls, and tell them slide on thru, we about to get our sunday morning praise on....
11:40 am GO Cops are here to shut down the party, I knew it (told them, they should of played some gospel, lol), everyone's pissed, the party is at least 100 ppl deep and still growing, but you cant keep a good ((west indiain) party crowd down, the party moved to another location. Speakers are getting unplugged, just to be plugged back up again. I wink at the DJ, and pass him my number, so he can pass me his location. I'm with the Band! Lol.
1:40 pm GO I am at somebody's backyard party, with a plate of saltfish, bake, shark (good fried shark too) and, plaintains, peas and rice in one hand, red alize in the other. The curry chicken, looks tempting to taste, but I pass, I still diggin my no meat feeling, and plan on continuing this high.
2:00 pm GO I find out who's house I'm at, lol , its the bartender, makes sense, now. I thank him, for the hospitality, as he pours me my parting drink.
6:00 pm GO I have to hurry to help and play host, at home as mom and pops got their own shing ding going... my lips go dry from kissing cheek after cheek, after beard, after cheek.
8:00 pm, GO My folks soiree is in full gear, I'm chill with one of my best buds, as we get our flirt on with the fine, frumpy and just forget about brothas in the crowd, "hey a true flirter does not discriminate."
11:30 pm GO after going thru the inquistion with all the family members, I dip out of sight to finally drift off to sleep, the sound of "dominoes" smacking the cardboard platform, begin to a hypnotic jungle rhythm. "Will they ever stop?"
monday wee hours....
2:46 am GO! my rides here, time to hit up pre labor day party.... damn its seem like I just went to sleep..
3:30 GO! am I'm partying in my nightgown, (well its a dress that might as well be a nightie) as I'm getting dusted with powder..... now this part of my west indian culture, they can skip. I am on the wall, like I'm being frisked, as I back my "assets" into the dancer hired to play "devil" he is the crowd motivator, decked in blue paint, horns, and a long cane, to hook and reel in his next victim to dance on. Oops there goes my homegirl, she got him on the floor! Damn I hope this blue paint comes out my dress!
4:00am GO! its chilly out but I'm heading to Jouvay (pre labor premiere)
5:00 am GO! BED (Dayum I never hug my pillow so hard)
3:00 pm GO! It's Parkway time, we find a band, jump in and get our waist work out on.... I bump an ole friend of my brothers, and we work our waist together.
6:00 pm GO! I'm am on the firescape watching the parade. At yet "another" house crashing jamboree, this time I am familar with the host, as he use to cater for a bunch of people's party. Today's menu is season cabbage, peas and rice, curry crab (and potatoes) with macaroni pie, roasted corn, ox tail and curry chicken, .
And for dessert, rum and coke. Hmmmm
I chill with his ethopian girlfriend and friends (we look like the U.N. up in the house, 2 homegirls from Thailand and one from P.R. have joined me in crashing the set, we make promises to link later on in the week).
8:46 pm GO! Hugs and Kisses, its time to Go.
9:00 pm GO! Bed its and early night. As much as I love to be "OUT." It feels good to be "IN"
After that the only hanging I was doing was at club "BEDrock and PILLOW jamz"
We'll that's a wrap for now.....
Sssh! she's writing.. brooklyn babe9/07/2005  45 you don't say?
September 01, 2005
Phone Tone: Dum, dum Dum.
The Blogger you have reached
will be temporarily unavailable
Brooklyn Babe Blossoms
enjoys some much needed vacation time!
With all that's going on right now...
in her world and beyond....
She's needs it!
(Heck we'll all need it! and all expense paid one would be nice....)
Please leave a message at the sound of the "click"
she'd love to hear from you...
(but first we have to place you on hold for sec, play audio byte BELOW)
Sssh! she's writing.. brooklyn babe9/01/2005  15 you don't say?
"Inside a BK Babe Mix" (Hit Stop on Missy Video)
this is an audio post - click to play
Sssh! she's writing.. brooklyn babe9/01/2005  11 you don't say?

About Me

Name: brooklyn babe
Home: Somewhere, East Coast, United States
About Me: Brooklyn (Bajan) Brit, who's finally carving her 30's niche, in this world. Look out Oprah here I come!
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