Friday, March 31, 2006
easier/better/less-stressful to work with than women.
Exhibit A: Cocoa's morning's IM convo with another colleague...
Cocoa Girl: oh my goodness...it's return of the navy blue skirt!!!! do you remember it...the one that was ALWAYS worn inappropriately!
Cocoa Girl: ...with black pumps; with white pumps; with a white dress shirt and cream pumps!
Cocoa Girl: Today it is paired with a cream-colored shirt, light gray (perhaps were once cream-colored) suede pumps and a black brocade jacket...
Coworker: oh dear
Coworker: the fashion karma on that desk is not good. in related news, I saw the hippo this AM on my way in the bldg, said hi and then walked as quickly as I could, away...
Cocoa Girl: hahaha...she is such a moo-moo
Cocoa Girl: meaning cow
Cocoa Girl: and!
Cocoa Girl: what she probably should be wearing to accommodate that front end! LOL
Cocoa Girl: ok, i am going to be nice now, or, at least, I will cease being mean. but she is sooooo mean. yuck!
Coworker: sooooo mean
Coworker: as a friend would say, a biznatch
Cocoa Girl: hahaha... i can't understand why she is so bitter. she has a relatively nice looking husband; grew up with tons of money; has two ivy degrees; makes pretty good money, and has a lot of friends. so, what's there to be so d$mn mean about?
Cocoa Girl: oh, that's right! because she ain't cute!
Cocoa Girl: oops, I said i would stop
Cocoa Girl: ok, I am stopping again...lol
Yes, Cocoa is guilty as charged!
Now, don't get me wrong: I have always been a woman's woman, a girly-girl a heart who trade in her glam card for nada. Long story short, I have always LOVED being a woman, which probably is due to the sheer force of females in my family. With every new generation, us sistahs always manage to outnumber the brothas, big time. So, I kind of grew up accustomed to spending every waking moment, day and many hours with poor yet self-professed divas, love-torn psychotics, whores of the attention-seeking and fashionista variety, and insane drama queens fit to lead any top-rated soap "bopper."
So, what's the source of all my beef with the fishees (alter-gay-male persona's disdainful term for chicks) on the job?? There is something inside of us -probably not much unlike that thingy used by animals to sense hostilities in their co-animals - that can turn the most-minute work issue into a f*cking Officegate! Women on the job also have a tendency to take issues of the business matter more personally than men, which can account for tons of unnecessary stress and cattiness on the job. As if my black, struggling artist living in Manhattan arse needs to deal with any more of that in any area of my life...
So, what? Am I generalizing? Am I being unfair, or am I dead-on?
Cocoa wants to know: what's your workplace sexual preference?
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Now, as far as where in the Sam hell your Huck-Finn azz was/IS going (in life), Cocoa has no clue. At first glance, my boy Vic and I assumed that like all the other teens on the train, you were also headed to school, where you could receive some level of education, which would one day help you compile a decent resume, because you would actually like to apply what you learned in school to the rest of your life and get a job, right?
Well, in spite of our education, common sense and combined 61 years spent on this earth, your now-famed exit from the subway – and thank God, our lives – taught the both of us we still have a LOT to learn:
“Ooey...ooey...scooze me. Scooze me, ya'll, I godda ged off. Scooze me ebbybodee…."If the train would have been any quieter at this horrific moment in Negra time, I would have been deaf. Had it been any more packed, I would have been a sardine in hot sauce. And, had I been any more disgusted and utterly amazed at what I’m sure you felt was a “cute” little speech impediment, I would have been a blonde, blue-blooded, rich b!tch from Boston named Buffy.
Forgive me if I seem a tad harsh, but the complete absence of cotton gins, burlap “slacks,” Negro spirituals and whips really had me confused as to the origins of your dialect. Whether from the Continent, the Islands or the South, I would hope that your mother, mammy, mami, mom, mommy or mama did not teach you to talk like so.
So, unless you plan to earn a living by playing an extra in EVERY slave epic made for the big screen, working the chitterling circuit, or by miming your way toward a paycheck, please drop ignant speech. It is not cute.
Monday, March 27, 2006
AC: (plopping onto Cocoa’s desk from nowhere): Oh, Cocoa…how is your book coming along? And, oh!, are you on your website…Colored Girl on the Job???
Cocoa (*blank stare* and three-second pause for added-hostile effect): Um, no. Why in the hell would I have a website called “colored” anything? You are from Texas, so you know that word is not a good thing… (now, anyone who knows Cocoa knows I’d probably cop ‘colored’ for my next site, but that's between us...)
AC: Oh, well, if I were being funny or silly, I would call myself something silly.
Well, you nosey beyotch, let Cocoa be the first to tell you that you are F*CKING silly!
A few pieces of key information with ya, just in case I'm seeming a bit harsh right now...
1. Never under any circumstances has Cocoa EVAH shared her on-the-side gig with a coworker.
2. Never under any circumstances has Cocoa EVAH told this chick that she has a blog site of about (of all things) WORKING WHILE BLACK!!!!!!!! For the love of God, I work in Corporate f*cking America at a bank that has presented more drama than a Knot’s Landing, Dynasty and The Colby’s marathons combined.
3. Never under any circumstances has Cocoa EVAH used the words n!g, negro, darkie, negras OR colored in the presence of a non-Cocoa colleague; therefore, where in the Sam hell did she find the sheyot??
Sooooooooo……the only way Little Miss Nosey A$$ knows about my book and blog is because she likes to creep up on my shyt like she's Leroy Green (betcha don't remember that one)!
Bloggers, brethren…be warned! Colleagues of bloggers, stop being so damn nosey...
Friday, March 24, 2006
In just five short years spent as an employee, I have been on several interviews where the hiring manager is sincerely shocked that that name and that 'accent' and that resume belongs to that woman sitting across their desk. Also, I am more than familiar with the "you'll meet with so-in-so for 30 minutes," only to barely get three minutes before a silent "so-in-so" sends me back to the lobby. All this said, I am quite familiar with race-based discrimination on the job. Yet, after watching Brent get sidetracked on the Apprentice, I began to wonder how a stroll through the office in his shoes would feel.
If interviewing/securing a job as a black person is sometimes difficult, what would it be like to face the same feat while overweight or (even worst?) overweight and black...
While I have never been "fat" or "chubby," I think I'd be correct to assume that size discrimination is real and prevalent. Hell, out of two trading floors chock with a few hundred workers, not one - man or woman - is obese. One guy is heavy, but he is not a trader, sales person or "a reflection of the boss" assistant. Nope, he works in IT.
A letter from a reader at workingwounded.com, sadly sums up the experience of interviewing with extra poundage:
There is a hidden job discrimination issue that is rarely discussed - bias against overweight people. We're not given the same opportunities to advance within the company or make as much money as those of "normal" weight. We're thought of as less productive than our thinner colleagues.
I presently weigh 320 pounds and have been unemployed for two years. I can see them look at me in interviews in that "You are a fat pig" way, and I know that they can't wait to get me out of the office.
I work (or I am trying to work) in the media industry, so I realize that image is important. They want attractive people working for them. I know this because I wasn't always obese and, when I was thinner, I usually either got the job or at least a second interview. As I've gained weight, those days are over.
...If you can't take care of yourself, how are you going to take care of our company?" is the general thinking. However, usually they'll just lie and say to the candidate that they found someone with more qualifications.
...There are some countries that have made size discrimination illegal, but it is still that dirty little secret that companies won't admit to in their hiring practices. It's only when you lose weight, when you truly realize just how bad people have been treating you.
If being totally honest, I can say that I have always wondered how some people could present themselves as fitness trainers when they are out of shape and/or very much overweight themselves. Matter of fact, there are certain gyms in NYC with written policies against overweight employees working as fitness experts. Do you think such policies are fair? Do you think they are wrong? Are there any circiumstances under which a company should be able to refuse one employment based on their size?
Thoughts? Opinions? Experiences
Thursday, March 23, 2006
How much of a TRUE hip-hop fan are you? See how many of these classics you can get right by matching them with the correct song title or, AT THE VERY LEAST, the right artist.
photo by Adam P.W. Smith
1. "You could be my mama and I'll be your boy..."
ANSWER: ELECTRIC RELAXATION, A TRIBE CALLED QUEST
photo by Adam P.W. Smith
2. "Started wit' a pow, now I'ma end it wit a bang..."
ANSWER: WE GOT OUR OWN THANG, HEAVY D
3. "I'm all that and then some; short, dark and handsome..."
ANSWER: SCENARIO, TRIBE
4. "...22 years ago to keep it on track."
ANSWER: THEY REMINSCE OVER YOU (T.R.O.Y.), PETE ROCK & C.L. SMOOTH
5. "...fake hair in the back, plus green contacts."
ANSWER: YOU CAN'T PLAY WITH MY YO-YO, YO-YO
6. "Like a floozy, I'm choosy; I don't fall for tricks."
ANSWER: I'M NOT HAVIN' IT, MC LYTE & POSITIVE K
7. "Boys: yeah, that's my woman; and girls: yeah, that's my man."
ANSWER: A TEENAGE LOVE, SLICK RICK
8. "The object of your affection is a three-dot connection..."
ANSWER: SLOW DOWN, BRAND NUBIAN
9. "What's up love...how ya doing?"
ANSWER: I GET AROUND, TUPAC
10. "Six-foot-three and maybe a quarter of an inch bigger..."
ANSWER: TREAT EM RIGHT, CHUBB ROCK
11. "...two miles an hour, so everybody sees you." (Should you miss this one, write your loved ones; shut down your station and report to the nearest - and highest - bridge immediately.)
ANSWER: SUMMERTIME, DJ JAZZY JEFF AND THE FRESH PRINCE
12. "...make ya body tingle, like, you got the fever for the flava of a Pringle."
ANSWER: THE RHYTHM, KWAME
13. "We fight every night, but that's not Kosher..."
ANSWER: LOOKING AT THE FRONT DOOR, MAIN SOURCE
14. "The only lying I would do is in the bed with you."
ANSWER: (WHY'D SO MANY THINK IT WAS KWAME???) PASSING ME BY, PHARCYDE
15. "I stole your girl while you was in prison..."
ANSWER: TOP BILLING, AUDIO TWO (MC MILK DEE AND DJ GIZ)
"I'm a diamond, you're a cubic zirconia."
ANSWER: HIP-HOP JUNKIES, NICE & SMOOTH
BTW, Cocoa says: "For you to beat me, it’s gonna take a miracle."
(AIN'T NO HALF STEPPIN', BIG DADDY KANE)
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Other than the fact that yet another loserette decided to cry for sympathy, Trump's dismissal of Fatty "Black" was the ONLY - Cocoa repeats, ONLY - interesting thing about episode #4. And even this shyt was a given.
What did prove interesting, however, was the realization that Brent (above) shares a common issue (problem?) with many black folks who have also experienced their fare share of unfair treatment on the job. And, just like with many black folks, he did not know how to handle it.
Now, before the hatemail comments of sorts start to fly, let it be known that Cocoa is not at all suggesting that Brent’s brand of discrimination is of the Black man’s proof. Yet, I do feel the pettiness, marginalization and stereotyping that he faced at the hands of his teammates (coworkers) and Trump (boss) is not much unlike the covert everyday, bullshyt that Cocoas face when competing in an environment where they’re the minority. Also, not much unlike many of his workplace siblings in strife, Brent’s long-term issues, resentment and bitterness got the best of him and ultimately ruined his chances for success. Simply put: he self-destructed.
With Brent’s first day on the job, everyone could tell that he was still the fat kid left out of all the fun. He even said so himself on camera, foolishly choosing to explain why he was the last one picked for a team. Fast-forward four challenges - and four chances to prove himself something different - later and dude is still the resident fat, sloppy, irresponsible, non-hip, insecure, squeaky-voice AND angry fatso who failed to contradict nan one negative impression. So, he had to go.
My first job; first partially-impartial boss, and first bonafide cubenemy all taught me that while I may be unfairly stereotyped at work, it is my responsibility to do everything in my power to not prove the mofos correct. Meaning, if some really really whiny, yet racially savvy, WG cries to paint me hostile, then I need not break out the street-Cocoa when confronting the situation with an equally-ignorant H.R. Or, if I somehow figure out that my colleagues are questioning (to the boss) my ability to be a true team player, then I need not sit an Underground Railroad distance from every last one of them beyotches at the monthly staff meeting. Or - in the case of Fatty "Black" Brent - if your teammates keep yelling that you are difficult to work with and suck at your job, then CHILL THE F$CK OUT!
Worst all of was the fact that Brent was never once to blame for his team's losses. Not even last night. So, he should have been able to return to the Trump suite unscathed. Hell, Cry-me-a-rive Drea created the monstrosity that caused their team to lose the challenge. So she was fit for the firing squad. Yet, instead of allowing shyt run its course, Brent decided to launch this "everybody's unfair to me because I'M FAT" tirade and everybody rode his defensive, rude and hostile outburst like the joyride that it was. He was right - they all did want that figger gone - including the other (real?) minority on his team. In the end, he made their dreams come true, while ending his very own. The same way I did on jobs number 1 and 2, when I failed to realize that the only way to (try and) combat a stereotype is to make sure that you do not fulfill it.
COCOA'S PINKSLIP PREDICTION FOR NEXT WEEK:
I dunno, but Roxanne "I'm in love with a skrippa" Shante (girly's got a thang for tabletop earrings - the ones last night were beyond terrible!) is shown proclaiming to some unwitting fool "RESPECT....RESPECT." So, Cocoa will most definitely tune back in.
Friday, March 17, 2006
That's why, in the spirit of a Cocoa Girl classic-post, Trick Get a Job!, girly girl (moi!) is dedicating this run of CASUAL FRIDAYs to a little MENTOR MADNESS!
Go team!!! Woo-hoo!! S-C-O-R-E... Oops, sorry, wrong kind of madness this March...
Mentor #1: Oscar-time Xzibit...
...Oscar winners Three 6 Mafia. If you pay close attention you will notice that both rapper-sets appear to be down, yet Xzibit is doing the black folk and the global community a huge favor by not exhibiting his extra negrodian flava.
Mentor #2: Angela Bassett...
...Vivica A. Fox. While both Cocoas are foxes in their own right, Miss Fox could stand to learn a few lessons from the enchanting, elegant and well preserved Ms. Bassett. Namely being black don't crack. So stop sweating that Botox needle like it's vile of illegal shyt.
Mentors #3 & #4: Al Reynolds...
...Miss Jay. As pictured above, Miss Alana and Miss Joanna easily show Lady Jay how to match some clothes. Their looks - and fabu-but-not-too-feminine poses - also show us that just because you're gay doesn't mean you have to look like it.
Mentor #5: Tiger Woods...
...Terrence Howard. When it comes to hiding the fact that you're black, nobody does it betta than Tiger! Howard should take note of this Caublanasian's animal instincts at distracting from the color of his skin. Namely...an Arayan (not ethnic-looking) white wife and strong denial of his blackness from the very start - NOT mid-way through his career (Howard recently noted that he is not black, but "biracial" and claims he never heard of Fitty Cents until quite recently).
Mentor #6: Cherry Treats...
...Keyshia Cole. True, Cherry may be a toy-horse, but few can argue that she don't know how to rock an unnaturally-colored coif. Besides, human or not, she gotta be a sistah. Girly's name is Cherry for crying out loud AND she prefers all things Cyan. For that, Keyshia should definitely lend her an ear...
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
What's up with Roxanne and Allie's looks of "confusion" (black girl codeface for anger)? Fatty "Black" didn't get fired. One miss thang even barked, "if Brent stays, part of me is just going to want to go home..." and then storms to the bathroom cryuing after she realizes he's still around. Cocoa says: Get a grip, beyotch! You're on the job, so act like the 31-year-old, self-made millionaire who would whore-out granny and eat-the-young-like-pate, steely-eyed cut-throat beyotch that you are! Now dry up those eyes and go make mama proud!
Gangsta Len is at it again and is flinging around the term "bullshyt" because two of his teammates are taking off time to celebrate some Jewish holiday. Don't ask me which one. There are so many. Who for the love of God can keep up with them all? But, hey, as someone who schooled in NY and now works in Manhattan (a.k.a. New Yerusalem City), Cocoa is not complaining one bit. Nah sir, I'se sho 'preciates all them days off. So, Mazel Tov, Yum Kippur and all that other hot shyt!
Challenge #3: Plan a fun and informative retreat to educate GM’s top auto dealers on the new 2007 Chevrolet Tahoe. Cocoa is glad that this week's challenge is actually, well, challenging. Andrea and Talk-Over-You Theresa volunteer as project managers. Cry me a river Drea says: "If we lose, I'm bringing [Fatty "Black"] in the boardroom, no matter what."
Cocoa's commercial break cuss-out: Apparently, fat IS the new black.
Shyt like this is what makes this "minority" not want to deal with certain f#cking folks at work! Cocoa will not discount the fact that Brent is hella annoying, but I don't think these BEYOTCHES are fair to force his removal before he actually f*cks up! They're plotting to take him down regardless if he is to blame! Yet (index finger to the chin), in all of her rage, Cocoa does acknowledge the fact that "plot" should be the operative f*cking word here because the show is meant to f$cking entertain. So, with that said...carry on, eye gougers, carry on!
This is Theresa. Cocoa's take? Chicky's a serious control freak of a beyotch with really, really great boobies (sorry, but this Cocoa is only flanking some C's)! I absolutely loved-ded girly's, ahem, auntie's (she looks a bit, um, mature) bossiness and gall, but her team, well, hated it! Not only did Reesy's dolls make for excellent incentive to keep the straight-male audience tuned into NBC, but they also helped to generate the show's most-memorable quote ever (thanks Gangsta Len!):
"Theresa's brain is so small she can’t even understand anything. I wish her
brain was bigger than her boobs!"
Cocoa's commercial break cuss-out #2...
The show producers are really working my f*cking nerves! I just love the way they take stereotypes and run with them for the audience's viewing pleasure. Now, granted, Brent is an el chubbo who probably throws back waay too many foods of the non-salad variety, but this doesn't make it right for the producers to only show him while he's eating. First, we saw him wolfing down four bagels with tons of bvtter and then this we witnessed this crap... Bastards!
The teams are off... Thanks to Auntie Reesy, the bad news bears of team Gold Rush are totally screwing up, while Andrea shows us she's truly a star. Drea even saved the day AND some gotdamn tears (thank you, reality TV gods!) by being quick to solve a "crisis." Auntie Reesy, on the other hand, spent too much time arguing with her bad a$$ kids...
Lenny dropped the ball big time when he failed to order a generator for the stage's electricity. Bryce (in his own words) 'saved Lenny's ass.' While Cocoa really likes the O.G. element that Lenny brings to the show, she was hella disappointed with his failure to accept responsibility for this mistake. Memo to Auntie Reesy: If the Russian ain't a budgin', have one of your other lackeys order the crap and move on.
Gold Rush mistake #473,396, the "models" could not tell the dealers SH-YIT about the product! (Hang ya head, Cocoas...) Honorary-Cocoa, Charmaine, hired a bunk-a$$ comedienne who insulted EVERYBODY at the event. Worst off, she even had the nerve to pay the chick for her terrible performance!
If you're anything like Cocoa, you're saying to yourself right now: LET'S JUST END THIS PAINFULNESS ALREADY...PULEEEEEEEZE! And, who I am to deny you pleasure...THE BOARDROOM: Auntie Reesy and her dunces are in the losers seat. Although H.C. Charmaine screwed up the most-important elements of the challenge, Reesy brangs Tarek and the Russian into the boardroom. The former would prove to be her biggest mistake yet, as neither of these guys was truly to blame for her team's loss. Oh! M.C. Len also provided us with the second-most memorable quote in Apprentice history. When asked by Trump who he thinks should be fired, Lenny replied: "Hell, fire them both!" Classic, absolutely classic, ya'll!
COCOA'S PINKSLIP PREDICTION FOR NEXT WEEK:
Trump. If somebody doesn't get shot, kidknapped, amputated, ran-over, stabbed, arrested or gay-married within the next two weeks, then Cocoa might have to find a new Monday-night hobby. Trump claims this season is the best...well, brang it on!!!!!
Monday, March 13, 2006
Do, do, do, do, doo...
As around the sun the earth knows she's revolving
And the rosebuds know to bloom in early May
Just as hate knows love's the cure
You can rest your mind assure
That I'll be loving you always...
As now can't reveal the mystery of tomorrow
But in passing we'll grow older every day
Just as all that's born is new
You know what I say is true
That I'll be loving you always ...
-- Stevie Wonder, 'As'
These lyrics, along with seven other songs from Mr. Wonder and a small, silver Satan incarnate of a machine, is the reason why it's 1208a and Cocoa is more than two hours late going to bed. What's this got to do with a Monday morning? If you're a black working person, you should already know the answer. However, I recognize that I'se have some non-Cocoa folks checking me out, so in the spirit of workplace diversity, I'll spell it out:
A certain employed person of color will now undoubtedly be late for work today, for like the 364th time this past year.
I don't know about you, but GOOD music is like crack to this Cocoa...can't be a productive f*cking adult with it, but absolutely cannot get by without it, either. Based on my habit of sorts, I should have KNOWN better than to pick up the I-peezy with only 59 minutes left until lights out. I thought about selecting a playlist "Hip Hop - New" (nope!); "Electronica" (nah) and deiced to just freestyle through the alphabetical song list. I was doing okay at first, meaning I was still being productive, cleaning while bobbing my head to the beat. Be Happy kicked off the dishwashing session, while Brotha, Brown Sugar, Beautiful Struggle and Black Girl Pain, and Can't Keep Running Away got me a little hyped to the point of where I began taking a mental note of The Kitty taking note that she might need to run for cover. With that, I decided to (try to) calm my ass down.
Everything beyond Pharcyde became a total blur... All I can remember is taking off my fleece and proceeding to two-step and spin about wildly as if competing in a Britney/Justin danceoff with that fierce be-yotch Miss Jay! Do I Do, led me to the Stevie song list, which led me to Part Time Lover, My Cherie Amor, and today's featured hit, As. In the short span of 20 minutes (which after several hits of the back, replay, arrow stretched into 1.5 hours), I think I managed to fantasize myself as a fabulous gay man, a dancing queen (of the chick variety), and a newly-minted fiancee, being serenaded by my new fiance all at once!
Now, if this Cocoa could only find a way to imagine herself a punctual employee, then she'd really be onto something. G'nite and Good morning!
Friday, March 10, 2006
Let's take it back to Cocoa's more interesting, Pretty Ridiculous days of her former career. BTW, for those of you new to C.G.O.T.J., the letters "p" and "r" really stand for public relations:).
Kind of Tara Reid meets, well, um, Tara Reid, blonde, always messy hair and covert ghetto antics (did I mention she was from the backwoods of Tennessee?), J.P. ALWAYS had some serious shyt going on. Her daily contributions to the office generally consisted of label-whoring online, stumbling off the elevator high - and NOT from weed - being very unproductive, or giving some melodramatic performance of a lifetime. Why all the drama? In the words of my wannabe socialite boss who would have drank her urine hot had she offered: "J.P. just has SO much stress with her father being Upstate (Cocoa codeword for 'the penitentiary') and her "granny," the socialite, who pays for everything, yet just won't accept her humble beginnings, and her drug-addicted (read crackhead) mom back home who's married to that drug-dealer (black) guy."
Cocoa said (and still says!): Yes, unfortunate, indeed, but that crap has NADA to do with the fact that her evil, cut-throat self rarely completed an assignment.
Stereotypical J.A.P. to the fullest, R.G. was also a cokehead who, like Jen, shared an affliction for asserting their worth through labels and status. So, you can only imagine how she conflicted she became when learning that this little Cocoa had accomplished several things she had not and owned several (authentic) things that she did not own. Matter of fact, she was actually kind of psycho like this with all of her Cocoa-coated colleagues. "Cocoa… (while squatted next to my desk, peering into my purse, lapel pressed back) OMG!...is this Prada real???" "Cocoa (while I'm typing and she's fingering my bracelet...attached to my f#cking arm!) holy shyt! Are these real diamonds???" I could go on and on and on, but then I think...why?
Though us black girls are supposed to be all tough and things, Cocoa can admit to getting a little um, intimidated, when girly began traipsing into work with replicas of all of my accessories. Each time she displayed a new buy not unlike my own, she made it a point to model the stuff for me. Even my bosses were like "WTF?!?!" That schizo was totally Single White Female'ing me. So, I had a right to be a little scurred, right?
The only girl in a family full of big-business boys, R.E. actually 'ran' (if that's what one could call it) our agency, which happened to be a spin-off of her family's already successful agency. So, perhaps because she was the only girl in a family full of boys, R.G. had a few problems running herself like a lady. As CEO of our firm, which dealt with some of the country's leading companies, homegirl's hair was NEVER combed. While eating in front of colleagues and clients, she always had the likes of salad dressing, ketchup or wine adorning her entire oral region as if she were holding the lead in some weird, food-fetish porn flick. Her most-famous move, however, involved the company bathroom, exhibitionism and squatting, as she liked to chat up folk while pissing with the stall door open.
Oh, and all of these folk are just a few weirdoes from Job #1 only. No wonder I only stayed three months.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
So...after waking at 5a, COMPLETELY against my will (it was the feline's fault...more on her later), I jumped out of bed at 6:42a and started the morning's mad dash...
A bit of basic arithmetic says that if I had to board the #2 at 730a, then a girly had a mere 48 minutes until takeoff. Yet, a bit of reality says that I spent at least 15 of said minutes (nearly 1/3 of my time) tending to an unthankful and hifalutin Miss Alexa L.V. (Lenox-Verd, not Louis Vuitton, people!). For the confused of you, Miss Alexa L.V. is my slave-mammy of a kitten.
She is always unthankful; turns on me in the blink of an eye; only wants to see me when I'm presenting her with a meal, and always has me fearful of a serious LASHING should I EVAH! piss her off. Our relationship spans only two weeks and yet I feel as though I've been Kizzying her behind for centuries. So, per usual, I cleaned her Playkitty-mansion of sorts litter box; poured fresh litter; swept her area in the living room (b/c Lord knows I didn't have time enough to sweep the ENTIRE apartment); gave her some fresh food; unearthed her toys and presented them for her tri-daily once-over at...that is, until I leave the room, after which time she will actually play with them.
With a 33 minutes until zero, I hopped in the shower; put on some lotion; "combed" my hair and zipped over to the cleaners at about 712a. As I'm dressing, the cat that usually goes out of her way to ignore me HAS THE NERVE! to kick her little ball with a bell down the long hallway toward me.
An indignant I does nothing. "Put the other leg in the slack..."
This time she noses the ball a bit further down the hall, closer to me.
A stank ho I does nothing. "Hmph, heifer wants to play now...after hissing me for the past 15 days...where's my damn socks??"
She makes another move with the ball and this time lays down to just stare at me.
Being the old softy that I am, I decided that if the cat was trying to play nice, that I could take a few tens of seconds to play nice, too. With that realization, I pulled on my socks and happily, yet quietly tipped-toed toward her area...
"hiiiissssssssss!!" And, with that, she was gone.
Flippin, F$CKING, fargan A! I am so tired of this sh!t! I rescued this chick off the streets and all I get are flippin' hisses EVERY TIME I try to approach her. Ya'll better call PETA, the humane society, Kitty Kind or who the f%ck every, now! I am this close to putting her ass back on the street. Do you know that she woke me up this morning because she was playing with those flippin' balls with the little bells inside?!?!?!? Yes, I did buy them for her, but I regret it to no end, because my ready-for-work-the-night-before routine now consists of searching for four of these balls and nearly suffering an anxiety attack because I can only find 2 out of four. YET, she knows where the flip the other two are located!!! She hides them from me b/c she knows that I'm taking them for the night! And, I should be able to do so: It's MY damn apartment and I don't want to wake up three times each night to repossess her loud ASS toys!
Okay, I need some caffeine. Be back in a little bit...
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
First things first...Trump's daughter looks fierce, and I do not care what anyone says: THE. SUIT. IS. FLY.
Extracurricular boobage in all.
Dude on the left is daddy, while homey on the right channeling Fire Marshall Bill is Bill, the winner from that other season where the self-professed skirt chaser Kwame failed to put the smackdown on Homorosa and failed to win the competition. Ivanka and Bill filled in for Trump's usual los vatos, Carolyn and George. Don't know where they are...perhaps off filming a sex tape to leak to the media for added publicity or something. The NY Post claims this to be the best season ever" but I just haven't seen it yet. Cocoa says... expect the Ultimate Hustler Trump to bring the hype...
Eww. Just gross and so to' up...somebody please fire her already for lack of hair care skills. I would tell you her name, but then I just wonder "for what??" I am normally not so hard on White Chocolate, but chicky is from NYC and KNOWS better than to hop on TV without taming the coif! I also want her gone because she pulled a serious 'stereoptypical white girl' move, which will help all the 'haters' reaffirm her clan as whiny and cut-throat. More on that one later...
This is Lenny... Homey is so my [insert the black word that Cocoa is seriously trying to abandon]. I would tell you all the reasons why, but then wondered 'why?' Lenny is from Jersey by way of the former U.S.S.R. (nuff said). He spent the entire challenge putting the verbal smack down on his team's pre-pubescent project manager. Homey decided he was tired of listening to the "boss" go on and on and on and on (sound familiar?) without going any damn where at all. So, he grabbed two chicks and bounced to get some actual work done. In the words of Ms. Maya Wilkes, Oh Hell Yes! That's what Cocoa is talking about...I am going to bust that move on my boss at next week's staff meeting.
Okay, back to this week's "challenge." Unlike last week's "Pimp that Blimp" task (no, it wasn't really called that...this is NBC, negras, NOT the Oscars!), this assignment wasn't really challenging at all. Trump charged the crew with creating a text message campaign to promote a new (ooh!) razor. The team that convinces the most folk to text message a numeric code wins! Not that hard, right? Yet, on second second thought, Cocoa does have some very paid friends who damn near pop an artery when asked to text (versus call) her. I mean, damn, it’s a 10-cent message and you’re a flippin’ dentist for crying out loud!!!
The challenge has just started and Fatty "Black," season 5's token minority of choice, is already acting a fool. The project manager, Pepi, is telling FB the team wants him to go home, but that figga Brent ain't having it! None-too-cute chick claims he "physically threatened her" and even tosses in a few key terms for heightened dramatic effect, including "in my face," "confronted," "angry" (sound familiar, anyone?). So what was the criminal defense attorney's crime? She later goes on to deny ever using the word 'threatening,' but then later uses it again in the boardroom when her a$$ is undoubtedly becoming grass. With Fatty saying say-no-go, the team finished its brainstorm session and that fine Cocoa boy Michael - who I am beginning to think is gay...dammit! - comes up with a non-MJ-bad idea to dress the team in bathrobes to attract attention.
Lenny getting all gangsta (yet again)...
He's not trying to follow the project manager's instructions and tells him to report at the event location "NOW." Click. I have a feeling that this one isn't going down without a boardroom fight. Yeah, I can see it now: Trump says "You're fired!" and Lenny flies across the conference room table, choking Trump in the neckhold. Security flies on screen and the news is all over Page Six the next morning! The only story in Apprentice history bigger than this one will be the Carolyn-George sex tape.
It's now the morning of the challenge and Team Goldrush is already off to a head start. While they're setting up shop, the other team is still sleeping. Black girl saves the day (yes, she has now officially spoken - let the downfall begin). She wakes up everyone and get them a-going...
Fatty Black done officially lost it...After doing The Robot, The Whop, The Running Man and The Moonwalk to draw a crowd, his team STILL LOSES BY NEARLY 260 TEXT MESSAGES!
Again, what a doll...
Glad to know she isn't afraid of the knife. Then again, with a cut-throat, ruthless daddy like Trump, how could she be scared of a little something sharp? Ivanka was not at all impressed with either team. That's it...what more is there to say...it's her f#cking daddy's show!
In the end, Team Goldrush wins! The losers, of course, all gang up on Fatty Black with one exception. The token negra done gone mad and gone against the grain. Everybody else blames the figga and she blames the project leader. WHY??!?!?!?!?!!
Expect her descent to be muy quick.
The fugly chick gets the boot (she picked the terrible location) along with the team's project leader, Pepi. Fatty Black stays, but for how loong?!?!
Oh, as a black person, how could I forget...Trump pulled some publicity stunt of sorts involving two negro men and a white guy where he donated clothes from (none other than) the Trump Collection (say whaa?!?!?!). All of the guys were down and out thanks to 9/11 and one even claims that he used to be a stockbroker, but after losing his job, he "fount out" that he had tremendous stress to battle. Yeah, and my 5'8, 170 lbs. behind was a runway model. Cocoa smells something a bit fishy. Perhaps it's that publicity whore Trump's overworked, overpromo'd, overhyped used-up cooch? Who does this heifer think he is fooling with this madness! MEMO TO TRUMP: We do not care if you do not care about anyone but yourself...it's okay.
Cocoa Girl's Pinkslip Prediction for Next Week:
So, I was wrong this time, Fatty Boom Boom made it through unscathed. I have no idea who is going down next week. Cocoa will, however, predict that the Cococa with the bad weave is about to get herself in a whole heap of trouble. You just watch! Never go against the clique at work -- NEVER (play sinister laugh track here)!!!!!!
Friday, March 03, 2006
A little history for those new to the topic... Lil' Mo a.k.a. Monique a.k.a. "Mad White Woman" didn't care too much for a previous post of mine, entitled "You might be black in Corporate America if...," and presented the idea that there would be "chaos" if someone posted the same thing regarding white people.
I disagree and, granted, while I am not white, I think ANYONE subject to the craziness of Corporate America could laugh at such...as long as it's funny, tactful and honest. So, I'd thought I'd take a crack at it!
Disclaimer: Again, I'se a negra who has only sailed on the C.S.S. (corporate slave ship). Therefore, if your experience is different, do share, but do not waste your time ranting how mine is wrong. It's called an 'experience' for a reason...
You might be white in corporate America if...
1. With the sincerity of an innocent child, you wonder why you have to attend diversity training when everyone else at your job looks just like you.
2. Yet, you're excited to attend the office's diversity training workshop because it will be a great and entertaining break from the work routine (don't worry – black people think it's a joke, too).
3. You feel obligated to compliment a black person at your job whenever referencing their race - even under perfectly legitimate circumstances. OR…
4. You avoid (at all costs) referencing a black person’s race when talking to another black person – even under perfectly legitimate circumstances. e.g. "I'm looking for the, ah, tall brunette with brown eyes. Um, I think she’s the, uh, only other, um, brunette that works here...real pretty, ah, excellent dresser...um, she's a very, very, VERY nice girl..."
5. Without a drop of embarrassment, shame or lowered voice, you openly proclaim “What up, dog?” to colleagues another race and easily admit to said folk of another race that you love Pimp My Ride, the Ying-Yang Twins and The Parkers.
6. You instantly believe that your black colleague's new just-past-the-shoulders hairdo is real although it was only to her ears one week ago. (Award yourself double points if you EVER have thought Beyonce’s coif is real!)
7. (You might be a white woman if in corporate America if…) You compliment your black colleague's new hairstyle and immediately ask "Can I touch it?" or just go ahead and cop a feel sans permission.
8. You've been working on the same floor for two years but had never held a conversation with any of the custodial or pantry crew. (Give yourself triple points if you don’t even know their names)
9. You double take when seeing more than one black employee gathered together at once. (Tack on quadruple points if you’ve ever wondered what they’re talking about)
10. You experience a tiff with one coworker and it forever remains a problem between two people - not four, five, 10 or all colleagues, managers and eventually HR.
11. Whatever you are doing, you immediately shift focus upon hearing the words "affirmative" and "action."
12. When one-on-one with certain black colleagues, you find it difficult to hold non-work related conversations that exceed 2 minutes and if you were to ever contemplate the source, you’d notice one of the following things: they didn’t belong to a historically white sorority/fraternity; doesn’t live in your neighborhood and does not frequent pubs and/or bars.
13. You feel the need to soften any legitimately negative feedback in your black worker's annual review due to (ridculous? irrational?) notions of discrimation claims or a lawsuit.
Anymore? And, remember - EVERYBODY - this is not the Black bastian of racism. So keep those comments clean and keep 'em funny!
Have one hellavu weekend!!!
Thursday, March 02, 2006
It appears that Little Monique from Mobile, Alabama is pissed. Does anyone have any words of advice for her? And, please, no Walmart OR Piggly Wiggly jokes...we here at Cocoa Girl on the Job are all about tolerance and acceptance. Also, please try to ignore her "ghetto" comment. We know how certains get when their feathers get a tad ruffled.
Now, no mud slinging in the comments box (sorry, Monique, again, no offense was intended)!
And remember: act like the college-educated, well-raised, literate, intelligent and confident Cocoas that you are...
Lil' Mo is upset because for some kind of interesting reasons. Her anger stems from one of my most-recent posts "You might be Black in Corporate America if..." Read through the comments below and offer girly some advice please...she just ain't listening to me!
Cocoa Girl says... You might be black in Corporate America if...
2. You instinctively listen for the faucet following a colleague of another persuasion's exit from the stall.
11:10 AM Permalink
I always be listening for the faucet, them fools don't EVA wash they hands. Ewww!
And I always try to be the first one in the line for food. There are some people you KNOW not to eat the food after they have touched it!
Posted by mrs.tj 11:59 AM EST
Yeah, for some reason, I've never been able to shake the faucet syndrome. LOL
Posted by Cocoa Girl 1:05 PM EST
nasty ass people not washing their hands prevents me from shaking hands and keeps me offering folks hand santizer on the regular!
Posted by Miss Ahmad 3:26 PM EST
Girl, you're too crazy! But are you being serious????
Posted by Cocoa Girl 3:56 PM EST
i am totally serious! I will turn down a handshake in a minute, and offer folks hand santizer on the rock steady!
I am a little bit of a germ freak!
Posted by Miss Ahmad 1:44 PM EST
Tsk, tsk, girl. Tsk, tsk. They must look at you like you're outta ur mind...
Posted by Anonymous 3:14 PM EST
LOL! CG, you hit it with this list! Especially #7. How about I just ignore yo azz cuz dat aint my dayum name!
People look at me funny in the bathroom cuz I wash my hands, then leave the water running til I get a paper towel to dry them. Then I use the same paper towel to turn the water off and open the door. One chic had the nerve to say I was wasteful because I let the water run and I used too many paper towels. My response...and?...so?...but my eyes said much more.
And why dude keeps blowing his nose in the SAME hankie everyday and put it in his pocket. Then wants to hand me a file. Ugh!
Posted by SingleMom 3:24 PM EST
Ignoring people who shortened my name without my permission was my fave thing to do! I think whoever's running the sanitation department at my job is a negra, because we have automatic faucets and toilets. We now even have hand sanitzer stations right at the restroom door...both exits! Some germaphobe is handling thangs at Morgan. Believe dat! LOL
Posted by Cocoa Girl 8:51 PM EST
What, only white people skip washing their hands? I work in a hospital, and wash my hands after every bathroom visit, even using the paper towel to turn the faucet off. But don't tell me black people wash their hands all the time and white people hardly ever do. I see equal amounts of white AND black people not washing their hands. Get over yourself.
Posted by Monique 11:29 AM EST
Monique - to you I say: Bull crap. You'll never convince me of such.
Also, I think someone needs a sedative...ask some of those doctors who wash their hands to hook you up with a few depressants...and some Clorox towelettes.
Posted by Cocoa Girl 9:43 PM EST
Why do I need a sedative just because I say that even black people sometimes don't wash their hands? Sorry, but all black people ain't "classy" like yourself. Like I said: get over yourself.
If someone posted something about how "you might be WHITE in corporate America if...," you would be screaming racism.
A LOT of people are sick of this crap.
Posted by Monique 7:37 PM EST
Um, Monique, don't know if you noticed but this is an African American blog.
Also, apparently you need to get over yourself. Why is it that you think black folk like myself care what you think??
Last thing, please ask yourself why you read 'white' into the comment about the hands. I don't recall saying it...
Hmm...looks to me like someone has a few issues. So, I now will ask you again to get over yourself and find a blog that matches your needs.
Posted by Cocoa Girl 9:29 PM EST
And this is what I'm talking about. If someone told you, "this is a white blog," you'd be screaming KKK or something of the like.
Mrs.TJ said, "them fools don't EVA wash they hands." Yeah, I'm sure she wasn't talking about us "vanilla" folk.
Then you start going off about "Why is it that you think black folk like myself care what you think??"
When I say people are sick of this crap, that's exactly what I'm talking about.
And you can call me rascist all you want, but that won't make it true. I just don't get why if I had a blog and told a black person to go somewhere else because it's a "white" blog, I can only imagine the chaos that would ensue, but black people can tell white people that. You want to talk about racism? Look in your own ghetto mirror.
Posted by Monique 10:07 PM EST
Uh-oh..."Diary of A Mad White Woman"...LOL
Sweetie, since you're now the representative and delegate for the entire white race, can you tell me why ya'll are so angry? Also, why is it that every time race comes up and a white person gets mad, you start to sling insults ("look in your own ghetto mirror"). Puleez. I think it's beyond obvious that I've never spent time in anyone's 'ghetto'...so perhaps you could lend me YOUR mirror?
I am not going to waste time arguing with your angry self. Go on one of those Aryan Nation boards if you do not like what you read here. Otherwise, you'll just write your comments in vain, because I will start deleting your ass. I don't tolerate classism or discrimination on my site and your cowardly comment crossed the line.
You can have an opinion, but you didn't have to go there with the 'ghetto' bit. Is that all you got? How pathetic.
Posted by Cocoa Girl 11:18 PM EST
I never said I was representing the "entire white race." And about the ghetto remark, I shouldn't have said it.
I am angry, though, at the fact that you state you don't tolerate classism or discrimination, but you yourself said this is an african american blog.
You may not believe me, but I don't look down on the african american race. I do, however, have a disdain for people who claim to be classy, then say things like, holla, on the regular, on the rock steady, and "yo azz cuz dat aint my dayum name."
The only people I know that talk like that are the ones that don't have an education.
Don't worry about me, because I won't waste my time coming to a blog of a classless, uppity woman.
Posted by Monique the "mad white woman" 12:19 AM EST
Any words for Lil' Mo? I think an affirmative action anger management group could be the way to go. She seems like one of those to moi...