Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Girl, I wasn't planning to blog nuh more 'bout your present 'troubles', 'cause I know that the case coming up soon and it's all up to the courts to decide on wuh really went down wid you and that lil boy.
Anyhow, that was the plan, till I butt up pun this story here. Girl, I hope you tell that fella which part he could stuff his gift!
Now, cuhdear, you mean to tell me that he haul off and smack you 'bout like he is Mike Tyson on crack, and he got the gall to think he could make it all better by sending you jewelry?! I know diamonds supposed to be a girl's best friend but he can't be for real!
I hope you ain't playing you falling for this stunt, 'cause I suspect he know he *ss is grass in court if you testify. I surprised he got any money left to be buying fancy diamonds, 'cause he like public enemy number one since his "mistake". The way things going he might not even be able to get a spot on Dancing with the Stars to stage a comeback.
Now, you never tell me wuh really happen, and some people say you start the fight. Maybe so, though I would hope that if you decide to pick a fight with a man you at least got some back up brass knuckles or something. But no matter how it start, the end result wasn't in your favour at all.
I know you love the lil idiot, but cuhdear, any man that could beat you and left you pun the side of the road ain't worth sh*te. Whitney kept going back to Bobby 'cause she did pun drugs; I don't think you have that excuse.
Take your own advice: tell him to Take a Bow, 'cause you goin' to Rehab. You don't plan on Breaking Dishes over him and as much as you hate that you love him, you might just have to stab him with your Umbrella next time.
Be strong, girl.