Girls Trip Page #12

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And, well, you could

have said no, though...

- Dina, nobody asked you!

- Sasha, just listen to Ryan

for a second. She's trying to explain!

You know what? Stop

it. Stop it. I should...

I should know better

than to expect y'all two

to have my back anyway.

See, I know how it works in this circle.

We got the queen bee,

and we got her two little worker bees.

- What?!

- Worker bee? B*tch, who you talking about

a worker bee? I'm my own bee.

No, you take that sh*t back.

- Take that sh*t back.

- I'm not taking it back.

All right, all right, stop!

Just everybody take a time-out.

So what? Whether I need

'em or not, I like 'em.

Pull it back. Time-out.

Why don't you shut the f*** up

and stop talking to us

like we're one of your kids?

Wait a minute. You'd better pause

and stop acting like one of my kids.

How about that? Put some clothes on.

- What are you doing?

- I'm trying to tell you...

Stop getting trashed every night

and f***ing random dick every week.

You just got some random dick

and your ass got real loose.

And let me tell you something, b*tch.

Just because he got a big dick

don't make him a grown man

with your pedophile ass.

You know what? Have it. I don't even know

why I'm here with your ass.

You need to change that

stank-ass attitude of yours

- or your ass is gonna end up with the clap.

- B*tch, please.

Clap? Been there, done that,

- had that, and I'm immune to the sh*t, b*tch.

- Excuse me.

I'll clap your ass up out of here.

F*** you, Lisa!

And f*** both of y'all, too,

with y'all raggedy, fake asses.

Both of y'all b*tches is fake.

You don't even know a real

friend when you see one.

You know what? You know what? Here.

Give Lisa back her raggedy-ass phone.

Oh, wait, hold up. Hold up.

Here, 'cause I don't need

you calling the police on me.

Take your card. Oh, and yes,

I maxed that motherf***er

out with your low-ass balance.

Stupid ass... oh, oh, oh.

And I don't need you

talking sh*t or calling me.

Here. Take your driver's

license so you can get

on the plane with your nasty-ass,

dirty-ass, nasty-ass husband

that f*** Instagram b*tches!

You're gonna mess around

and get the clap, b*tch.

I can't believe you motherfuckers!

That's why I'm-a f*** me

a motherfucking celebrity,

stupid-ass b*tches. I hate y'all!

And I love you, but I hate you, b*tch!

You happy, Sash?

Hmm?

You have ruined my life

and 20 years of friendship.

You know what?

F*** all y'all.

I know I've done a few

foul things in my life,

but I would never do that.

I did not do this.

My friends would know that.

F***ing real friend.

Bombshell, folks. It looks

like America's favorite couple

has got a third party wedging her way

into their house of love.

This recent picture has emerged

of Ryan Pierce's husband, Stewart,

getting cozy with an Instagram model

by the name of Simone.

No last name given.

You know, this is a tough situation,

even for renowned relationship expert Ryan.

If I will it, I can have it all.

Let's hope for the best

for this stunning couple.

Can I get a refill, please?

- Hey.

- Hey.

Look, I'm really...

sorry for what I said.

I-I did not mean any of it.

I know y'all keep me around for laughs.

But I love you heifers.

I would die for every last one of you.

I know you would.

And you know what?

You are one of the most loyal,

fiercest, most honest friend we have.

We are so lucky to have you.

You right.

Y'all very lucky.

Very, very lucky.

Very lucky.

- I love you.

- I love you, too.

- Oh.

- Oh.

For years now

I've been posting unflattering photos

and headlines about anyone who

would get more hits to my site.

I did this without

regard for their privacy,

their dignity...

or their humanity.

Ryan! Any comments?

But when someone close

to you gets hurt,

it forces you to realize that

these are not just photos,

they're not just words...

they affect real people

with real feelings

who feel real pain, just

like everybody else.

Ryan.

When are you gonna talk

about the baby, Ryan?

Ryan, Stewart, just a comment, please!

And the fact that those closest to me

would question my character

has led me to the decision

that I no longer want

to be part of a process

that tears people down for profit.

The photo is doctored.

You refused to give an interview,

they became vindictive...

So from this moment on,

Sasha's Secrets is no more.

Is to help and love a man...

I am strong.

I am... powerful.

I am beautiful. I am...

This will be my final post.

Strong, I am powerful.

I am... beautiful, I...

Ooh, ooh...

And to anyone out there who I've hurt,

I truly am sorry.

Give you all the things I can

If you're tying both

Of my hands...

So you're just gonna

drop the mic on the blog

and bounce like that?

Thought it'd be best that way.

Sasha, how could you ever think that?

Look, I know it may be hard

to believe, but I didn't do it.

Simone hired her own photographer

to take them pictures and sell them to TMZ.

And you don't think we don't know that?

Come on.

- Well, you wasn't acting like it.

- Mm.

Look, I just want things

to be the way they were.

Sh*t, b*tch, we all do.

- Yep.

- Find me a time machine

where we can go back to

living in a dorm together,

eating Top Ramen, drinking Mad Dog 20/20,

and I am there.

But we some grown-ass women now,

and we got sh*t to do.

So buckle up, b*tch, 'cause

we ain't letting you go.

You comin' with us,

you ain't goin' nowhere.

Come on.

Yo, Ryan's speech

is supposed to start

in 20 minutes.

We're not gonna make it.

Oh, yes, we are.

Thank you, sir. Thank you.

Let's go. We're gonna hoof this one.

- Why?

- Let's do this.

Dina, come on.

- Come on!

- Come on!

- I don't want to be running in this heat.

- Dina!

- Come on!

- Come on!

We're running out of time!

- Come on, we got to make it.

- Quit whining. Come on.

This ain't no Woman's March.

I don't want to be walking.

Ladies and gentlemen,

Hall of Fame candidate, Stewart Pierce.

Thank you!

Thank you!

Hello, Essence!

All right!

How much further? Sh*t!

My bunion is killing me.

- We old as f***.

- Oh, I ain't old,

I'm just tired as hell.

- Oh, look! Man bun! Man bun!

- Oh! Wait! Wait!

It is my honor and privilege

to introduce this year's

Essence keynote speaker.

Please welcome my rock...

You got this, right?

The woman I am proud to call my wife,

Ryan Pierce.

Okay, baby. Knock 'em dead.

Oh, wow.

Thank you. Thank you.

Make a right right here.

Oh, no, n-no. Actually, make a left.

Oh, my goodness!

Please watch out for that car.

Jesus! That bump!

Sir, faster, faster, faster.

We need to get there.

Ooh! Yes! Yes!

Ooh, slow down, baby. Ooh, slow down, baby.

- Oh, man. You know what?!

- Come on, girl.

Ooh, yeah! You must be a butcher!

You got the meat!

Whew! Thank you, boo. Thank you.

Now, you call me, okay?

- You call.

- Let's go, let's go.

- I might be pregnant right now.

- Okay, let's get Ryan.

Uh...

as most of you know, there

have been many questions

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