When I see you walking down the street so fine, don’t you know you really, really blow my mind. And then you came along and gave my heart a brand new song. Yes you did. It’s that lovey dovey feeling I get when I’m with you. Oh that lovey dovey feeling I get it’s so true. Oh that lovey dovey feeling I get when I’m with you. That lovey dovey feeling is a feeling that I get when I’m with you.
— Tony Terry

 

Hey, y’all. Don’t be getting mad at me cos Mama T ain’t got no time to type for me. Dem people on da job be givin her a headache, an she barely have time for me. Y’all seent what happen the last time I tried to type y’all a message. I’m glad y’all like hearing ‘bout my life but y’all need to slow yo roll. Mama T will post sumthin when she can, and I’ll stay on her till she can.

Now dat that’s outa da way . . . can y’all believe dat ‘bout Ms. Whitney? Umph, umph, ump . . . Mama T so sad. I heah she was mo tow up over MJ but she still sad. An it was jus a few months ago when I was talkin ta y’all bout Ms. Whitney an Bobbie Brown an da doodie bubble. But guess what? Da otha day, I was layin in da yard an I saw what I thought was a grey plastic bag in Taco’s yard. I tried to get up close but cudn cos of da fence. But from da fence I thought it was a glove. Den Taco’s old human woman came out and almost ran her walker ovah it. She looked down an screamed cos it was Dirty Harry. He done gone on to doggie glory. Taco’s human man came runnin out and picked up Dirty Harry an held him in his hand (memba, Dirty Harry was a little bitty thing). Da animal control people came an took him away. He was almost 19 years old. Dat’s ovah 120 years in human years so he was dang old. So, let’s have a moment of silence for Ms. Whitney and Dirty Harry . . . crickets . . . chirp . . . crickets . . . chirp . . .

I’m so glad we had this time together, just to have a laugh or sing a song. Seems we just got started and before you know it comes the time we have to say, “So long.”

OK, so I know y’all wondering why did I start this blog wid dat Toney Terry song. Dat’s cos I got a new man. Yep, Mama T zero; Donna . . . well, let’s just say more than zero. I been losing weight and my waist line is more defined and I’m definitely slimmer. I look good, y’all, but I got a turkey neck an Mama T always pullin it. She be tryna laugh at me but her ankle all swole again. I told her dat my neck means I’m bringin sexy back. Ain’t nuthin sexy bout dat elephant leg of hers wid da meat hangin all over her shoe. It look kinda gross if you ask me. I’m glad she wear pants an cover it up mostly.

So anyway, me an Merle, dat’s my new man, met on da beach. I saw dis beautiful golden retriever walkin along da coast all alone an our eyes locked. I tried to run to him but Mama T had me strapped to her and I cudn pull all dat she is  in da sand. Merle made his way to me an he came correct. He sniffed my nose first, den made his way to my butt befo he started mouthin my neck. He sang to me, “I belong to you. I belong to you. I’m yours alone. Doo ooh ooh ooh.”

Alright, befo I go on let’s just get sumthin clear. I know dat’s a gospel song so don’t you’ll be emailin me an callin Mama T bout me bein blasphemous an what not. Cos I can tell ya now how it’s gonna go down:

You: Dear Donna, I really enjoy your blog an I’m glad that you recoverin from yo surgery but you know you shouldn’t be using God’s songs like dat. Dat ain’t right. Smile. God luvs you and me too.

Me: Dear You, Thank you for yo email but ain’t nobody ax you nuthin. Ain’t you holy rollas got nuthin bettah ta do wid yo time than ta bug me? I’m a damn dog, dang on it, so don’t be worryin bout me. Me an God got dis. Now go say a prayer, why don’t ya. Toodles.

Since we know how it’s gonna go, let’s just skip it. OKAY? Now back to me and Merle . . .

Den we ran aroun in circles (I cudn go nowhere else cos of dat belt). But y’all know how bad Mama T motion sickness is so she made us stop while she nelt down in da sand tryna keep hus-self from pukin. Can y’all ‘splain to me why she get motion sickness when she ain’t movin? How many other people get sick just watchin others in motion? I’on undastan an I ain’t gonna stop ether.

Well, anyway, while Mama T was collectin hus-self, Merle’s human finally strolled up and I sweah he look just like da Crypt Keeper wid a bunch of white hair. At first I ain’t know why Merle was strollin round wid no collar all by his lonesome. Den I saw his human an I was like I wudn get too close ta dat ether. But I also be too scairt to run away. 

Me an Mama T can walk the beach 2 times before Mr. Crypt make it from one end to da otha. I’on even know why he be tryna walk in da sand. It’s hard enuf for regula folk. He be lookin kinda shaky when he walk. I be scairt for Merle dat he gonna lose his human. Me an Merle see each otha every weekend. An I can’t wait ta see him today. Tho I’m kinda scairt of what might happen. Dat wind been whippin all night and it’s always worse on da beach. It might whip too hard an da Crypt Keeper might end up as a pile of bones dat ain’t no dog gonna wanna chew on.

I’m tryna get Mama T ta set up a play date but I’on think she want da Crypt Keeper comin over ether. Or she could be just jealous cos I’m getting more action than she is. She probly be sittin at home sippin on some hot apple cider on V-day while I’m out frolickin wid Chance. What y’all gonna do? Whatevah y’all do, think of me havin fun an enjoyin myself. (Dis what I look like when I’m happy.).

Now, before y’all go asking, “What about Charlie?” Don’t even go there. Charlie 60 miles away an I’m sure he still got dat chain an fence. So, as the Isley Brothers say, Set sail wid me, Misty Baby, set my spirit free. New love to find, and tho I leave another behind. I’ll always come back to you.

Gotta go prepare for my date wid Merle. Come on, Bey. Bring da beat in!

Da da da dada da da da da  . . . .Baby, Baby. I can hear the wind whipping past my face as we dance the night away. Boy your lips taste like a night of champagne as I kiss you again and again and again. Now everybody asks me why I’m smiling out from ear to ear. (They say love hurts.) But I know it’s gonna take a little work. Nothing’s perfect, but it’s worth it after fighting through my tears . . . . Baby it’s you. You’re the one I love. You’re the one I need. You’re the only one I see. Come on baby it’s you . . . . Finally you put my love on top.

 

Dance wid me da next time y’all heah dis song an know dat I’m on da beach kickin it wid my new Valentine.

Happy V-J-J-Day, y’all.

Mama T: Ahem, Donna. Sweetie, that’s V-day. V-j-j means something else.

Oh, I know what it means and V-Day is the same as V-J-J Day for e’rybody ‘cept you cos you ain’t got no man.

Luv, peace, and Sooooul!
Donna