2004-05-06 - 1:18 a.m.

Something tells me�my friends are gone.

Now you know it ain�t like Ms. Leitina to get deep. My shit like a baby pool... Undeep. Meanwhile, why ain�t there no better word for undeep? You�d think they�d come up with something. TLC know what I�m talkin� �bout. Why ain�t they no better word for unpretty? Girl, you just�unpretty. Take too long. Gotta be somethin� better than that.

Clearly I been gone a while. Gone longer than ever. I ain�t never been one for excuses, and y�all know that. I�ll just say I was busy with �Harry Potter and the Da Vinci Code�. That book is good! You should read it. Harry get his ass all caught up with a bunch of paintings. And they ain�t no normal paintings! They paintings with clues about Jesus in �em.

Jesus was a carpenter, people. A carpenter. Carpenters can�t paint. That�s why there are painters. And carpenters. If carpenters could paint and painters could build, there wouldn�t be no reason to employ people for both, would there? So Jesus didn�t paint no pictures which make that Harry Potter book a bunch of nonsense. You hear me?

Happy Cinco de goddamn Mayo, by the way. I�d tell y�all what I did tonight, but then I�d have to get into why I�ve been gone so long. And that�s confidential. For me. Not you. If it were, it�d be conforyoual.

OK, I�m only tellin� you �cause you seem pissed. And you got a right to be pissed. Shit ain�t right for me to just up and stop writin� �cause I hit it big in Hollywood and am best friends with Queen Latifah.

Shit. There I go. Cat�s out the damn bag. Runnin� up and down this damn piece like one of them unbornified fetuses. You know the ones. Evil lookin' things. They on the picket signs of them folk that sit outside the abortion clinic. Shit ain�t right.

You can shake that head all you want, it ain�t me advertisin� dead babies! Them pictures is inappropriate and somebody oughta tell them crazy folk that they ain�t never gonna prove they point to keep babies alive when they showin� pictures like that. Who wanna bring up that thing? Oughta show pictures of that one with the mohawk that Angelina Jolie kidnapped. Oh please. Like y'all think she really got that kid "fair and square". That crazy bitch walk up to your little hut and say she want your kid, you gonna tell her, "Actually Tomb Raider, I'd like to still have my child"? No. You gonna give that woman your baby AND that Nutri-Grain bar you thought you were havin' for lunch.

Back to my status�why I been gone so long�You shitheads seen Barbershop, right? I didn�t see the second one, but I got a crazy, sinkin� feelin� it got something to do with a barbershop. Anyway, I liked the first one. Lots. Funny shit. So many characters. Talkin� some funny shit too. Well, a guy I met named Hebo worked on the crew for that damn second one (which if you�ve forgotten, I haven�t seen). He held the camera. I don�t know which one he held, but I do know that I slept with him.

Nothin� big, but we got to talkin� one night at a bar �bought our respective jobs (I told him I was a marine biologist on shore leave) and we was goin� on �bout how Latifah was wanderin� around the set lookin� for her Rolaids and Dr. Pepper-flavored chapstick. Then he say somethin� �bout how that girl couldn�t have one thing in her life that wasn�t flavored in some way. If it�s something you can eat, she�d be the one to find a way.

I told him that was uncalled for. Woman�s a little big. Ain�t like she trying to scoop the potato salad you just finished chewin� out yo damn mouth. Nasty boy. Ain�t got nothin� nice to say�start a online diary.

Anyway, the story with that fool, Hebo could go on for days, but he ain�t the reason I�m best friends with Latifah, so let�s move on. (Although I will say, I do hate that skinny bitch. He got his though. Caught him some cerebral palsy. I ain�t sayin� I�m responsible, but I won�t say that I�m not responsible either�mmm hmm)

After I found out Hebo worked with the Queen, I decided to work it. Told that stupid bitch I wanted to watch him on the set one day. Got so damn excited he almost pissed his pleated, tapered white khakis. Once he got me on the set, I found my way over to Latifah�s trailer. Not sure what drew me there�just knew I had to meet her.

So, I�m waitin� outside the trailer. Guess who come walkin� out? Lil Kim! Yessir! First of all, that woman is 3 foot 1. I kid you not. Bitch come up to my belly button when I�m layin� on my stomach. She handed me a lollypop, tipped her cap and went on her way. Wasn�t sure how to take it, but I kept my focus because I knew Latifah couldn�t be too far behind.

45 minutes later, it happened. Steppin� out the front door of her spacious trailer was Ms. Queen Latifah. Our eyes met. She smiled. I smiled. Time stopped. And then she asked me for a Kit Kat. And I had one. Half-eaten and melted with an eyelash in it that was impossibly long to be mine, but a Kit Kat nonetheless. And then she said it�

�Girl? You got any personal assistant experience?�

And it all came back to Aguilera and Spears. My namesake. The inspiration. The reason. What brought me to Los Angeles in the first place. To serve the celebrity above all else. A calling is a calling, and Queen Latifah was ringin� me up somethin� fierce.

I told her, �yes�. And quickly proceeded to ask her what she needed. I was back. In my element. Assisting those who needed it least. And I couldn�t be happier.

4 hours later, the Queen had a restraining order against me. Bitch. Somethin� about stolen DVDs and a flat iron left plugged in. We still best friends though. Ain�t no thing. The best thing about best friends is that you can fight and be over it within minutes. Back to watching reruns of Brotherly Love and talkin� �bout which Lawrence brother you�d like to beat up most.

It�s just funny. She still hasn�t called me back yet. And I�m sittin� on her front lawn. Surrounded by candles and a boombox playin� old Matchbox 20 songs. I wonder if she sees me.

To sum it all up�sorry to be gone so long. I've missed out on makin' fun of an entire American Idol season and for that I am eternally sorry. One thing I will say, is that you can blame little old me for John Stevens staying on for as long as he did. Didn't like the fucker at all, but I was too lazy to pay attention to which phone number corresponded to each person every week. Dialed 866 IDOLS-02 every damn week. Didn't care who it was. Every week. 02. What you gonna do? Things been interestin� and they sure to get interestin� again. Stay tuned bitches...

Yours truly,

Lei-Ti

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