Supa's infamous moodiness tends to play itself out in a variety of ways, primary one being - the hardcore habit of not answering her phone.
Direct your attention to Exhibit A:
That's right, boys and girls. What you are witnessing is Supa's home phone, with approximately 45 messages anxiously awaiting her review.
Last time I checked my messages was, umm, hell if I know! Won't be sure until I hit the playback. If Cingular is calling to harrass me about my non-payment of February's bill, then it's safe to say this is an accumulation of a few weeks. But..who cares. I might just hit "erase" and start all over. That's always fun.
So Supa, why all the screening, you ask? Besides the fact that I'm a moody loner writer chick and sometimes just don't feel like fucking talking, you mean? Well, truth is, I also screen out of pure laziness and indifference. It's that simple.
I'm just too damn lazy to buy a replacement for my cheap ass Bell South cordless phone with the faulty Caller ID function, which is another reason why I don't randomly pick up the phone, because I can't decipher who the fuck's calling me wantin' to chat. (What in the hell did we ever do before Caller ID?!!) My true and important peeps have my cell digits, and hardly bother ringing me at the tilt anyway.
Besides, when I'm at chillin' at the Supa Pad, I'm usually doing something infinitely more exciting than trying to answer my phone, like mixing up a double martini, advising the Ruff Ryders that YES IT'S PIZZA HUT for dinner AGAIN, spying on my ghetto-ass next door neighbors, playing the Dog Whisperer with Sassy, or simply re-organizing my TiVo shows for the week. You know. Important shit.
I mean hey, between us having home and cell phones, email addresses, Instant Message, textin', Blackberry's and Treo's and all that, whatever happened to the good ole days of being inaccessible?!?! Sometimes we're some communicating fools, and still 'aint sayin' SHIT!
And yo, don't forget to call me!!