My 1st Groupie... Part 2...

First of all, I will start Part 2 by saying

THIS IS A TRUE STORY!!!



Names have been changed to protect me from legal action, even though I doubt she can afford a lawyer unless you can put a lawyer on layaway. In that case, she’ll be suing me in 2013.

As stated in the previous post, I have a roach phobia – but it gets worse. Ratchet Rachel has a wig collection, and I was curious to see what her REAL hair looked like. But, for some reason – like a UFO, or a Twitter model NOT driving a 4-cylinder car… I NEVER saw it. I mean, she even went to sleep in a wig – and that disturbed me. Actually, it troubled my spirit.

I started to notice that Ratchet Rachel REALLY had a hygiene problem when I showered to get ready to go to the club, (she was my designated driver) and I walked out to see that she was FULLY dressed. I thought to myself, “Myself, this bitch aint took a shower ALL day!”
Then, Ratchet Rachel appeared to grab a Shih-Tzu puppy by the neck, lift it in the air, and brush it – while asking “should I wear THIS tonight?” I exhaled when I noticed it was JUST a wig. She then held up TWO wigs and asked, “Nova, which one should I wear?” I sang ‘Eeny Meeny Miney Mo’ to myself, then picked a short wig. She closed the door as if she was getting naked, then transformed into ‘Short-Haired Ratchet Rachel’.

‘Un-showered, Stinky Wig Wearing, Ratchet Rachel’ opened the door while yelling out to me, “How does this look?” I blinked a few times and asked, “are you ready to go?” She opened her mouth, exposing her un-brushed teeth and said, “Yea, I’ve BEEN ready”…

…To Be Continued…

My First Groupie... Part 1...

I’ve got a story to tell…

I met my first groupie… yea, mama, I did that :-/


I can’t recall how she knew me or WHERE she heard about me, but she was SO supportive. She told me, “Nova, when you come to ________ - don’t stay in a hotel, stay with me. I’ve even got Froot Loops.” Lord knows that Nova Giovanni is a sucker for Froot Loops. At first, I was hesitant to deal with her since she knew so much about me and I knew nothing about her. So she took me to a restaurant where SHE paid the bill. Patron drinks with the salt around the rim of the glass (I forgot what it’s called) and tilapia. She claimed to be a model, but I wish pictures were scratch-n-sniff, because she smelled like ramen noodles. Then she came back to my hotel, used the bathroom, and left it smelling like salmon cakes. I thought to myself “Nova, don’t fuck her… I’ve never smelled a yeast infection before… but her pussy smells kinda yeasty.” Needless to say, I dodged her that weekend. For the sake of this article, we will call her Rachel. In fact, we’ll call her ‘Ratchet Rachel.’

A few weeks later, the devil must have been hard at work – because I was back in Ratchet Rachel’s city, and she KNEW! Rachel must have been a used car salesman, because she SURE was persuasive. In fact, she DOES work at a used car lot. She said, “why spend your money on a hotel, when you can stay with me… AND you can eat FROOT LOOPS?”

I walked in her place, and immediately knew it wasn’t my type of environment. Even though she lived alone, she had a full house… of roaches. A roach bit me on my ankle, then backed up and began throwing up gang signs at me. I used the rest-room, and saw cockroaches bungee jumping into the toilet with dental floss around their waists.
ANNOUNCEMENT: I have a ROACH PHOBIA! When I was a baby, a roach bit me on my nipple and milk squirted into my eyes – that’s why I wear glasses now…
The black and brown roaches in her place were beefing with the ALL brown roaches. I was taking a shit, and witnessed a gang-related roach jumping on her bathroom sink….

…To be continued….

Dear Girlfriend, (I'm Beefing With Your Period)...

Dear Girlfriend,

I hope this letter reaches you in good health. In other words, I hope you’re not on your period. I love you (a little bit), but I hate that bitch that visits you once a month. I can’t hold it in any longer, and have a confession to make…

I’M BEEFING WITH YOUR PERIOD!!!

Baby, please don’t misinterpret this letter as me being selfish. This is all about YOU and YOUR best interests. When you’re on your rag, I’m hurt by seeing you in pain. It grieves my spirit to see you suffering with cramps, bloating, tender breasts, and hot flashes. While ovulating, you come to bed wearing pajama pants and large t-shirts… looking like a little boy. I look at your side of the bed, and knowing that your cycle is holding your pussy hostage almost brings me to tears. More importantly, when your period is on, and that tampon is shoved up your vagina – I feel like I’m being CHEATED ON.

Love of My Life – let us not be discouraged, there IS HOPE at the end of this letter. For every problem, there is a solution. I believe that God granted women menstrual cycles to give their husband and/or boyfriend five days to try new pussy each month. Therefore, if you love me, you’d allow me to ‘experiment’ while you go through your monthly transformation. PLEASE CONSIDER…

Sincerely Yours,
Nova Giovanni

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