It's quarter past midnight. I should've gone to bed ages ago, with all the things I need to do tomorrow - today, even - but I found this blog called FMS/ Fashion, Music, Sport, and I've been practically glued to it, reading posts for ages. Now it's finally time for sleep, I can't rest until I posted some fiction. I would really, really like to post some fiction right now. >=( But the things I wish to post (Initiation: Behind Closed Doors and Model Mannequin), I still don't feel like they're ready, even as drafts. So I'm posting some shit I wrote a long time ago, when I thought bad-ass black girls were mildly amusing and had a slight fascination with NY. I don't think I can bear to read this again... ever. But you may, if you care enough. I titled it, Two-Thousand And Sexy.
Star xx
[ Intro .
What Kemisha Ckemi may have looked like. Photo credit goes to my favourite photographer ever, NEEF Fresh.
-- In My Hood
written in October 2009
So first, you bitches can stop your shit talkin’ about New Jersey.
Because New Jersey is the fucking Hood. Ain’t no more fuckin’
hookers and vagrants on streets corners than there is in your hood.
By the way? Not all of us say Joisey. Yes we do say tawk and dawg
and gawgus and cawfee… and yes the accent be annoyin’ – but it’s
better than yours. If you imitate our accent, I will take an NBC stick
to your head. We might have bad grammar – but our education is on
point. HOW many A’s did I come out with last year? Exactly. Hush.
And yes we can drive – but you can’t, so fuck up, hoe.
Luckily for you, not all Jersey folks are as conceited as me. I’m just very
And yes we can drive – but you can’t, so fuck up, hoe.
Luckily for you, not all Jersey folks are as conceited as me. I’m just very
outspoken. I grew up thinkin’ Central Park was “nature” and the bagels
I knew were more like rolls with a fuckin hole in the middle but DAMN
those ‘rolls’ were good. And warm. When I say I’ll be a hot minute, it
means a looong time – so if you’re from my hood you know to sit the fuck
down and grab you a magazine. I know about a dozen strippers and even
more girls who should be one. And who the mutha told you we don’t pump
our own gas? We don’t think we’re Queens. Haha, see what I did there…?
But seriously.
My one letdown – my bf TeeTee once dissed; “I might say strange
words but at least I don’t say YAAA’LL!” I'd smirked at the time.
Buurn. But when I took my shit to New York, what did I start saying?
Sigh.
Moving up and down the whole damn country made me lose quite
a lot of my awful accent. But to be real, I still love Jersey, I still call
myself a Nork New Jersey girl because I was born in Brick City and
that’s that. People can never guess where I’m from.
That’s like Star too. She’s from London but she picks up slang like a
baby, so the accent and the words of many places merged together
gives her the most unique – dialect – ever. With my Afro-American,
Korean American heritage, and her Jamaican background, people
get shocks when us bitches start talking. Heh. Heh.
I like the ambiguity. Keeps all them jerkwads on they toes when they
can’t tell up from down.
So let me tell it to you straight. I am… the one. An elitist female in a
battle field where only a few chickens even come close to my league.
My one letdown – my bf TeeTee once dissed; “I might say strange
words but at least I don’t say YAAA’LL!” I'd smirked at the time.
Buurn. But when I took my shit to New York, what did I start saying?
Sigh.
Moving up and down the whole damn country made me lose quite
a lot of my awful accent. But to be real, I still love Jersey, I still call
myself a Nork New Jersey girl because I was born in Brick City and
that’s that. People can never guess where I’m from.
That’s like Star too. She’s from London but she picks up slang like a
baby, so the accent and the words of many places merged together
gives her the most unique – dialect – ever. With my Afro-American,
Korean American heritage, and her Jamaican background, people
get shocks when us bitches start talking. Heh. Heh.
I like the ambiguity. Keeps all them jerkwads on they toes when they
can’t tell up from down.
So let me tell it to you straight. I am… the one. An elitist female in a
battle field where only a few chickens even come close to my league.
Don’t cry about it… it is what it is, hun. My name is Kemisha CKemi
and do not forget it. Don’t mean to be stank, but I’m a good-lookin’,
shit-poppin’ chick – singing’s really not my shit but my flow is fire,
believe it. And when I’m finished fuckin with Two-Thousand and Six
and become a rapper, this year finna be the year of Sexy, with my
effing badass name written all over it.
Keep talking your shit.
Me and crew eat haters for breakfast.
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