Sir Cuss A Lot

The chickens have come home to roost - I'm reaping what I've sown and this is some BULLSHIT! Why I can't ever keep stuff I like? Why I can't have no fun? Why is it that my joy must be wrenched from me all the time?

Here's the thing A lot. And I like it. A lot!

But at the prime cursing age of 46 I have to stop. I have to just stop cold turkey - can't do it a bit at a time. I can't slap on a UnoCussNoMo patch from the drugstore and wean myself of the urge to enhance my sentences with expletives. Why you ask?  Well, I have a three year old who apparently likes to curse too. Not a good look.

His dad does not curse as often or as colorfully as I do, so when Mason started letting them rip we knew I was the culprit. *Hangs head in shame*

I've even tried to downplay it to my hubby, saying shit like, "Man, that boy didn't say that. You trippin'. Well he has never said that in front of me. You need to stop lying on my baby........"  Well, no more. I'm busted.

Hubby's ass is out of town so we video chat with him. Last night Mason was talking to his dad and the flash suddenly went off in his eyes and he said, "Whaaaaat the fuck!?"  We "lost" the connection immediately, and when he called back I denied hearing any swear words. *Hangs head in shame again*

So now I have to give up cursing. And don't suggest I use those cutesy cuss words like "shut the front door." That won't work for me. I'd mess it up and say "shut the fucking front door."

Maybe I can I find a curser support group. Hi, I'm Angie and I like to curse.

 

 

 

 

Somebody said u was lookin' fo me, hear ah go!

It's been a long time....back now. Did ya miss me.

I just haven't felt like blogging so I thought Id take a break but I hadn't realised its been so long.


So, on today, a day when I need something else to focus on, because of this this.

With that said, I'm recovering from surgery, I'm in pain and I'm aggravated, (glad you came back here yet? LOL). Every. Single. Thing. is working on my nerves.  I didn't want to leave, Mr Angie did. We stayed. Hope it was the right call.

 Mr. Angie is under the weather, the Little Man is under the weather and the weather over us is UGLY.

To Do List

I tend to lose focus on things I need to do for myself. So ever so often I need to remind myself. Here goes!

1.  Stop reading EveryBodyElses damn blog every single day.
2.  Write on your own blogs more often.
3.  Take 30 minutes for yourself EVERYDAY.
4.  Go to church.
5.  Trim your split ends.
6.  Finish Work on one of your projects.
7.  Make a date with Mr Angie (get a baby-sitter)

That's enough.

Say My Name, Say My Name......

Did you know that somewhere someone is calling you by a moniker that is not your own? They may even be referring to you by the clothes you wear, your hairstyle or the car you drive. Sometimes they know your real name sometimes they don’t.

One of my friend’s moved to a new neighborhood a few years ago. Her next door neighbor is fair skinned black guy with long wavy black hair that he wears in two pony tails down his back. So we named him Pocahontas…….you see the connection. We’ve even shortened it to just “Poke.” It’s gotten so bad my friend’s husband called him Poke to his face. It just slipped out, “Hey Poke, what’s up?” LOL The guy never even noticed.

In college one of my friends had a crush on a guy, but we didn’t know his name so we called him “Maxima Man” because he drove a Maxima. I don’t think we ever found out his real name because he had no interest in my friend. at. all.  Latter we found out we should’ve been calling him “Gay Maxima Man.”

There was also a really tall skinny guy who lived in the dorm next dorm. We called him “Noodle Man.” When we saw the really tall skinny girl he was dating, we dubbed her “Noodle Woman.”

Someone else I know was kind of dating a guy who was about fifteen years her senior. We referred to him as “Old Fella.” She’d say, “I went to eat bar-b-que with Old Fella last night” and we thought nothing of it.

It’s really easy to slip up and call someone by their nickname to their face. So be careful. And if someone says “Hi” to you and there’s a weird tag attached to it……you just found out your nickname.    “Hi, Perch Lips!”

Crazy Pink Guns!

Recently MyKiddo and I were talking about the possibility of me and Mr. Angie purchasing a gun.....safety issues, size, etc.  She suggested I buy a pink gun. Now, I'm pretty feminine and all that. However. A gun is not a barrette! It's a freakin' gun! Only you and the person you're about to shoot are gonna see it, right? I mean you don't wear it on a necklace or attach it to your key chain.

I want my gun to fit my hand and be reliable. Period. They can save the pink paint money and give me some free bullets.  

Outside Children?

If your father was married and had a family when he got your mom pregnant, do you consider yourself an outside child? Do you tell other people about your situation? How do you feel about your dads kids from his marriage? How do they feel about you?

I'm dealing with a situation similar to this one, and I'd like to know what some other people think?

Family Edited

I'm starting to write about things that I've wanted to write about for a long time , and it feels good. That is until I go back and read what I've written - and try to decide what to do with it. I love to write, but I'm still learning. I'd like to be a published author. But, there are some downsides to letting other people read your writing.

I saw Tyler Perry on the Oprah show a while back. He exposed physical and sexual abuses he suffered as a child. He said he didn't want to speak about it in depth publicly until after his mother. She had died the year before the interview so he felt free to speak about his abuse. That's such a heavy burden to bare.

Do I have to wait until my friends and relatives are dead before I can freely write about situations in my life that involved them. do I have to let my mom and dad edit my writing before I air our dirty laundry? Do I just change the names and places and let the chips fall? How do people who write about thier lives deal with this?

After the Rain.......

Yesterday, while driving home from the doctors office, I had a major breakdown. One of those boo-hoo, tears and snot breakdowns. My eyes were left red and puffy and my nose was raw and tender. It was all I could do to just to drive home.

I didn't get any horrible news from the doctor, just a litany of tests and new appointment. I wasn't the Dr's visit on it's on that caused the breakdown. It was just the last straw. This emotional break down had been building for a while now. I think it started with my birthday last month. I have never felt old. Ever! Thirty years old, no problem. Forty years old, no problem. Forty-four years old, problem!

I even spent all of my 42nd year thinking I was 43 (long story for another time) and that didn't bother me. But, forty-four has thrown me for a loop. The day of my actual birthday went to crap.  I got the usual happy birthday calls, but it just wasn't enough for me. The Sunday before my birthday Tipsy took me to breakfast at a really cool restaurant in Mandeville, and she bought me a very nice cook book. I was so grateful........she always makes a big deal of my birthday.  That helped, but I still felt uneasy in my heart. It seems that I've been on a declining slope ever since my birthday.

I've been sleeping a lot lately, which is a sign of depression for me. Negative thoughts have been dancing through my head now and then, but I had  been able to shake them off. But, on the drive home from the doctor's office, I could no longer contain myself. I started to think about at my age, my health, my lack of money and my parenting skills in a bad light. Just every single thing I thought of was negative. It was like the devil himself was talking to me.  I cried it out. I prayed. I called my mama. I cried and prayed some more. Then I went home and went to sleep.

Today is a better day. I feel rested and restored. I've given some thought about my "incident" yesterday and I've come to the conclusion that some stuff just had to come out.  The reason I couldn't be pleased on my birthday is because I DON'T WANT TO BE 44!  It had nothing to do with anyone else, it was all me.

I haven't been in therapy for about two years and I don't have an opportunity to share my feelings and fears often. I've gone through a lot in the past two years......moving from Ohio, having a baby, getting married and buying a house and then moving again, then turning one year from 45. Not having that "unbiased, outside" person to talk to has left me stuffing some of my thoughts and fears. Not good.

But, in my right mind I know I am so very blessed and I have so many things to be thankful for, a great marriage, healthy happy children and a family who loves me. I just need some help putting things in perspective sometimes. So, as part of my new Take Care of Angie First Campaign, I've made an appointment with a therapist.

Like I said before , "Today is a better day."

Randomness

Steve Harvey works on my nerves. Nothing to do with the issues between him and his ex-wife, he just works on my nerves.

There should be a Barnes & Noble's in every town. I miss hanging out there.

I'm so ready to start renovating the house.

I apparently need more roughage in my diet. : (

My husband and I need to get out more (alone).

The weather here is funky, cold and wet! I like the cold, not the wet.

My son finally got his second front tooth. It came in so very slow and the other one is kind of big. One big tooth and a space is not a good look. Welcome second front tooth, you had me worried for a minute.

I wanted to marry the guy who played Shaka Zulu when I was young. *Crickets*

I'm wondering how I can get one of the "house shows" to come and re-do my house.

I think I'm gonna grow my hair out. I've been wearing it short for about 3 years now.

Up-Date This House! #1

We've been in our new (to us) house for almost 4 months now, and have made zero changes.  What's crazy about that is the first time I took a tour of the house I saw hundreds of changes I would have to make if we decided to buy. The house was built in the late 60's and it looks like the prior owner bought the current appliances in the late 70's. You know the Br.ady B.unch wall oven, wall paper on bathroom walls, and ....wait for it........paneling. The dark brown paneling in the great room has become the bane of my existence.  I don't have a problem putting in a little sweat equity so the paneling didn't scare me at first - I thought I'd just take it down and paint the walls. Well, after closer inspection, I realized there is no dry-wall behind the paneling. What the hell?!! Who does that?

Mr Angie is fine with the paneling. He says it's cozy. What?! Oh, it's cozy because he doesn't want to deal with taking it down, plus his ass is country enough to think dark brown paneling is cozy. *sigh*

Anyway, we went looking at tile for the sun room the other day at the Ho.me De.pot and damn it that shit is high! Mr Angie was looking at the expensive stuff and I had moved all the way over to the damn Linoleum aisle. It's the sun room man, I'm not trynna do all that.  I know you're thinking, "But not the Linoleum, hunh?" My answer to that is yes, yes the gottdamm Linoleum. Ya'll know I ain't got no job! And Mr. was over there looking at that high ass tile, but he ain't really trying to dole out that kind of money for tile.......he likes to window shop. Not me. I like to look at the stuff I can afford, figure out how to make it mine, and move on it. Period. "Sir, can you cut me off enough of dis here Linoleum to cover 297 square feet please?" We're done.

I gotta get the sun room together first. I need at least one room to reflect me and my style. Not to mention I always wanted a sun room to sip coffee and read in. So, that's the first project on the Up-Date House Tour. I'll try to post pics of the process.

I don't deep condtion my hair anymore.....

I've decided to stop reading other blogs so much. There are a few I usually read every day and as soon as I read them I'm sorry I did. Don't get me wrong their blogs are great....their lives are great. That's the problem. I feel totally inadequate and mentally challenged in comparison to these chicks. They cook, sew, direct and produce movies, go out to dinner and have drinks, deep condition their hair, know the latest fashions, work out, eat healthy, tweet, travel, down load pictures the same day they take them, and on and on.

I do not! I can't! Well wait, I can, but I can't right now, because I have a one year old baby.  I can and do cook, but it's not so enjoyable with a small person pulling on your leg and sometimes pulling your pants down (while whining). I can sew, but I have to do everything at night when the little prince is asleep - it's not happening during the daytime. I'd like to have dinner and drinks with friends, however I don't have a baby sitter and all but one of my friends were not crazy enough to have a baby at retirement age and they can go out whenever they want to. Uhh this is tuning into a rant....let me pull up.

Woosaaah.

I'm going to have to find some blogs for stay at home moms with small children. I need to see some other women with boogers and breast milk on their shirts. It's sad, but yes I need to see other women with the same struggles I'm having right now.

My little man started walking yesterday and let me tell you.....seeing him reach these milestones make all the rest of this worth it for me. His funny teeth and silly laugh keep me off the ledge. So, bye bye fashionista blogs, and blogs about fly women doing it up big. Hello to mommy doing it up small blogs.

Quiet Night and Apologies

It's late and the house is quiet. I like this time. I'm getting used to the new house, its sounds and smells. I'm starting to get into a lil groove in my office/sewing/writing room. I'm trying to decide what color to paint it. I'm tempted to paint everything green - my favorite color.

The baby is getting used to sleeping in his bed in his new room. And it feels so good to put him in his bed and have grown up time. I'm starting to feel like myself again, slowly but surely.

I need to write more. I need it. It makes me better in a lot of ways. It gives me an outlet for my thoughts and it's proof to myself that I'm still Me.

One of my best friends dad died yesterday. She and I have known each other for almost thirty years, so we've been through a few things together. We both had contentious relationships with our fathers when we were teenagers. I've become much closer to my dad as an adult and we've pretty much ironed out most of our issues. I don't know if my friend and her dad ever worked out their differences. I don't know if her dad ever said the things daddy's need to say to their daughters after they haven't been very good fathers. It doesn't change the past but it does help us to know that they know they screwed up and that they regret it.

My daughter and her dad have had conversations about his short comings as a parent. She still has a few issues with him, but I know it helped to hear him take responsibility for his failures and try to make amends.
I hope my friend had that time with her dad before he passed away.

Home Again, Home Again !

Well, it's been a while but I'm back. It'll probably take a few post to get you all up to speed on my life, so here we go.........

Remember the story of Tipsy? Well it happened to me! Yep, at the ripe old age of 42 I gave birth to the most beautiful baby boy in the entire universe. He's four months old now and I haven't had a full nights rest since he was born. But that's a story for another time. I've been back home in New Orleans for a little over a year. My daughter is now twenty years old, which is also a story for another time.

I still miss Ohio. I miss the weather, the friends I made there, and my therapist. I wish I could have brought them all back here with me.

My new life is just as crazy as my old one. I'm in love with a big ashy country feller - and he's quite smitten with me. I'm a stay at home mom whose ready to break out. My children being 20 years apart is fodder for many a joke at my expense. So we've got lots to catch up on.

Get some coffee and settle in for the ride.

My, How You've Grown

One way to see how much you've grown is to examine your past and present reaction to challenges and pain in your life. I had a growth check recently.....when someone I care deeply about hurt me.

In the past I've always reacted to hurt with stubborn indifference and prompt removal from the situation. If I had to leave the person, place or thing that I saw as the cause of my hurt or disappointment I would do it - no matter what.

The rush to removal has cost me . I've left relationships and friendships before there was sufficient cause to do so . Sometimes I've taken proactive measures and found an exit when I perceived a hurt or disappointment approaching.

I learned that pattern long ago and I practiced it every chance I got. My enthusiastic Fuc U approach has garnered many compliments from female friends and relatives. They've often said that they wished they could leave a guy and cut ties the way they'd seen me do so often. They thought it was easy. I even convinced myself it was easy. But it's not easy, it's just what I had gotten used to. It didn't take courage or confidence to jet. Leaving had become my natural reaction to fear of pain, as natural as breathing in and out.

What really takes courage is to learn a new way of reacting. A long time ago I read somewhere that everything that human beings do or don't do is motivated by fear. And if you think about it - its true in many cases. ie. I can't choose that major because it requires too much math and I'm afraid I will fail. I don't drive over the speed limit because I'm afraid of getting a ticket, jail and an insurance payment increase. I go to work on time because I m afraid of losing my job.
So, I had to ask myself what fear motivated my quick disposal of the perceived givers of hurt. The best answer I could come up with is, I was afraid of being further hurt, and having it happen over and over again and not being able to stop it. After thinking long and hard about it I realized I let people into my life who I suspected would hurt me partly because I knew I could play the whole "I don't put up with no shit, get out!" thing. Sick, I know......thank God for therapy.

At the ripe old age of 43 I've made a realization about myself. Somewhere in the last four years I learned a new kind of courage. I saw this shiny new courage in action when I was hurt by a person I love with my entire heart. Don't misunderstand me, I was still hurt. I cried and I felt sick to my stomach for two days. But I didn't revert back to my previous role as the professional Peace Out ! queen. This time I thought it through, I was honest with the person about my feelings and I was open to a solution to the problem and a salve for my hurt feelings.

When it was all over I felt great. I was so proud of myself. Listen, I'm not bragging, I've been there with Me and I know! It has not been an easy ride. I deserve to give my self an atta-girl.
It's great to look back at my progress and marvel.

This metamorphosis didn't happen over night. It took some time and I had to do the work. It all came down to my fear of living the rest of my life in Fear.

The End of Auto Pilot

For the past year or so I've been coasting. I've been floating on whatever winds that blew through. Winds of change,physical frailty, financial lack and mental fucked-up-ness. I've used this coasting as a means of survival, and it has served me well. I've used coasting to float through situations that were to painful for me to face. I've used it as a means to transport my mind from my reality to a more pleasant place. I've got coasting down to a science.

Here's the thing about coasting, if you do it long enough you may forget how to "not coast." Now don't get me wrong - I've always done what I was "supposed" to do. Coasting never prevented me from keeping my obligations. But it has been useful to tint the hue of my rose colored glasses a little darker. I convinced myself that I was doing what I had to do to get through. And maybe that's what it was at first, but somewhere along the line it changed. At some point I stopped facing problems, or maybe I never learned how to face them properly.

Here's what auto-pilot looks like. If/when faced with a problem, uncomfortable situation, work around it. Take the path of least resistance. Work harder. Don't say "no". Suck it up. Remember you're strong enough. You are in control. Just keep plugging along and everything will be fine.

Well, as you may well know all of that is bullshit.

Sometimes it's necessary to face your situation. Take an honest look at it and at yourself. Accept that you cannot control everything all of the time. That sometimes you need help. That you are not perfect. That you are fragile. That you may fail. And that all of the aforementioned are is okay. It's not great, it's not fair, it's not pretty and it's damn hard. But it's okay.

Auto pilot off, wish me luck.

Handy Wipes?

Let me just say I'm desperate. I'm at the library checking emails, surfing and blogging. I'm sort of a germaphobe so this is not a good experience for me. I want to wipe all of this shit down with a disinfectant cloth. The little timer at the top of the screen is ticking away so I'd better hurry. LOL

Lately I've been readjusting to life without Mykiddo - and getting back into the swing of things. After my latest health scares I'm happy to be in one piece. So the girl is gone off to college. Ya'll I'm too young to have a kid in college. I feel like a kid myself. Her old piece of a daddy didn't come thru for her AGAIN. He was supposed to take her and her stuff to school, but he did not. I'm not even going to get into that - except to say, I want to whip his ass.

School starts for me in a few weeks so I'm geared up for that. I'm ready for some normalcy.

Well, I need to go and read Yall's blogs, cuz I miss em.

Are There Any T.C.P. Speakers In The House ?

My favorite movie in the world has crept into my everyday language? Not just me, some of my friends and family members have been dragged down the path of The Color Purple talk with me. I wonder if there are others out there?

We do it so much I sometimes forget that the dialog is from a movie.....weird hunh?

When Tipsy is trying to dissuade me from having a baby at the ripe old age of 110 like she did, she says, "Don't trade where I been Miss Celie!"

When Spunky reminds me of something I said I would do, and I no longer want to do it, I say, "Ain't no sucha thing paw!"

When MyKiddo gets close up in my face, I say, "You sho is ugleee!"

When a male friend invades my personal space without being invited, I say, "All my life I had ta fight!"

See how this works? There's more.

When my sister and I see each other at the airport and other venues after a long separation, we scream out, "Celie!.......Nettie!" (I'm Celie, she's Nettie) And then we run into each other's arms.

When MyKiddo is feeling silly, she puts her hands on both sides of my face and says, "Mamma, boonie mama......"

When my sister is aggravated about someone giving her unwanted information, she says, "Mary Agnes, ......Mary,who gives a damn!"

When indicating about to get into some type of ignorant altercation I say, "Take my cherrin home, git my chirren outta here!"

When I see a man that I think should like me and he's with another woman, I say, "She don't look nuthin' like me!"

When someone is talking mess and I just don't want to hear it I say, "Shut up you ole fool, Sophia home now!"

Best of all when I see a child acting out in public, I walk right up next to the parent, and under my breath I say, "Beat her." I love that one. It's good for when anyone is acting out. Just say, "Beat her", even if it's a man. Paaaahh! Haaaaa! Haaaa!

If you are a fan of The Color Purple you understand how fitting the above statements are. If you're not - get the movie and practice. It's good to be bilingual.

Watchoo Lookin' Fo

You know that feeling you get when you're looking for something. For instance, you misplaced your keys - and you're ready to leave the house. You search for those keys with micro-intensity. You narrow your view, honing in on places you think you may have placed your keys. First you look in the obvious places, the table near the door, the counter top, your pockets. After you don't find the keys in the obvious places you start to think of less obvious places. You check the outside of the door, maybe you never took them out of the lock. Nope not there. You retrace your steps, you look in every room you've been in. You look in the refrigerator, in the laundry room, under the beds - even though you have no memory of going near these places with your keys. You'll take'em any way you can find them at this point.

Once you have searched everywhere you think your keys could possibly be - you just stop and think. You stand still and you think to yourself,"the keys have to be in here somewhere. I used them to unlock the door when I came home!"

Right there! That sense of "where-the-fuck-is-it-ness?!?" That's the feeling I'm talking about.
That is exactly how I'm feeling right now. But, I'm not looking for my keys. I'm looking for "my real life."

Okay, I know this sounds crazy- but I'm looking for the physical manifestation of an image in my mind. The image of "my real life" is tranquil, and serene. No worries. Content. The image is of me sitting somewhere, I think I'm on a porch, or on a lawn. There's a lot of lush greenery around me. It's really pretty. But it's not the beauty of the place that makes it so appealing. It's the feeling that I have when I'm there, it's so absolutely fulfilled and peaceful, it blows my mind! I'm not thinking about bills, Mykiddo, relationships, family stuff, or health issues when I'm there. I feel totally cared for and loved when I'm there. In this image, I have the house I want,

Let me pull up a bit and give you some background on this thing. I moved away from my home in Louisiana three years ago to start a new life in a very different place. I chose Columbus Ohio. I wanted to finish school and make more money. I wanted to free myself from the obligations that go along with living near close relatives. I wanted to experience another city - to see the seasons change. On my own. And for the most part I'm doing exactly what I set out to do. I'm in school, I'm working, and I'm on my own. I'm all on my own.

But, here's the thing, I want to go home. I miss my family and my friends. I miss seeing people who look like me and sound like me. I miss the "familiarness" of home. I miss the ruckus, the festivals, the food and the smells. I even miss the dirt.

Even with all of that, I don't really want to go home. I'm just impatient because I haven't found "my real life" yet. I was looking for it when I moved here. I think I've come closer to it. But, no cigar. Not yet.

So, I'm still looking for "my real life." What are you looking for?

Ain't It The Truth

Today someone I trust to tell me the truth told me the truth about me. The truth hurts like a mutha! Especially when it's so true that you have no defense - no comeback.

First my face got hot. That's the first thing that happens when I get upset. Then I wanted to cry - but I couldn't cry because of my pride. Next I felt angry. How dare he tell me this shit - doesn't he understand why I'm like this. Doesn't he know what I've been through - that I'm this way because........ Then the embarrassment set in. The shame. Letting someone get close enough to me to see the ugly parts - and then that person acknowledging said parts. Plainly laying them out in front of me. It was like seeing magnified pictures of the parts of you body you like the least. And knowing everyone else could see them too.

This is the time I usually run. I disconnect from the truth teller. I continue on my journey seeking the person who will either not see my truth or see it and not tell it to me. Surely not show it to me.

This time can be different. If can take the truth telling. Take it for what it was, the truth. If can seperate the truth from the teller. If can seperate the truth about me from my total self-worth it can be different this time.

In order to take it for what it is I would have to accept the truth about myself. To know that it's okay. It's not the end of the world. Accept myself with all my flaws and fucked-up-ness. Accept that I am worthy of someone who loves me just the way that I am today. Flaws and all. That I don't have to be ashamed of myself - of my truth - or the truth about me.

It might be different this time. I'm trying to make it different this time.

Angie's Life - The Soundtrack Part 3

Old post I decided to finish.

The one the only Bobby Womack !

I have always been an old soul. I like older music and older men. So - Bobby Womack speaks to me. I like his swagger. He acts like he's the most handsome man in the world, even though he knows he's not. He has confidence. Women like that. We like it a lot. Not over confidence mind you - just confidence in the right dosage.

Bobby knows women - and he talks to us like he knows us. If men would take the time to get a PHD in their women everyone would be happier. But I digress. Back to Bobby. I didn't just discover him - he's been with me for a long time now. He says things that make you want to turn the lights down, drink dark liquor, and take your panties off.

Let me try to explain my fixation with Bobby Womack. I'm a Southern girl, a Pisces with daddy issues. I'm attracted to strong men. Men you know better than to get involved with, but you do it anyway. Men who spit game like Bobby's lyrics -but you don't know it's game, because he's that good or because you don't want to know. Bobby's been spitting his particular brand of game to me since I was a teenager, and I'm not tired of him yet.

In I Wish He Didn't Trust Me So Much he's talking about how he's in love with his friends wife. Not good right? But get this, he spins it! In the end it's his friends fault for trusting him too much. You gotta love that!

You're Welcome, Stop On By, is an invitation to a married or otherwise engaged woman to feel free to come on over to his place. He tells her he's there for her, however, he's getting a little tired of being "that second guy." Mind you, he's not tired enough to stop - he's just putting that out there so she thinks he wants something more. Psych!

I could go on, and on but I'll stop at my favorite. Woman's Gotta Have It He pretends to be talking to men on this one. Telling them how to get, and keep us - that we have to have it. Fir good measure he throws in, "Give her what she wants, when she wants it, where she wants it and how she wants it." Now in reality Bobby is speaking to us, to women. He's letting us know that he knows us. He knows what we need, and he can give it - when, where, and how we want it. Works for me!

So when Bobby's on, the Southern girl in me sashays her hips, the Pisces slips on the rose colored glasses, and the daddy's girl is reminded of her father.*Head nodding, sipping from glass - Sing it Bobby!