Youse a ho, youse a ho, sideline ho… oh oh oh. February 3, 2009

I’ve recently come across this gem of a song by Monica. I’m sure we can all agree this is a classy tune, and fully deserves to be on the Girl Power 2 album (as it actually is) because of the powerful lyrics that portrays women in only the most high brow fashion. I highly recommend listening to it in it’s entirety, as Monica’s angelic voice truly brings out the beauty of the word “ho.”

 

Ho, Ho, Sideline Ho, Youse a ho, youse a ho, sideline ho

[Verse 1:]
When you called his phone, did he pick it up?
No, ’cause we was making love.
Did you meet his moms, have you met his kids? No, oh, did you know my kid was his?
No, oh.

[Chorus:]
Get your shit together you’re making a fool of yourself,
it don’t matter if he spends the night, his home is somewhere else
Ain’t you tired of being on the side line, tired of getting yours after I get mine baby?
second place don’t get a prize when you gone realize
you’re wasting your time baby
Ain’t you’re tired of him getting, hitting real quick, then rolling and
Ain’t you’re tired of when you need a little change and he lies about what he holding?
Ain’t you’re tired of spending all the holidays alone, tired of being his little sideline ho?

Do he take you out, do he foot your bills, no oh, ’cause I know what his balance is
have you been to his church,
do he ask you to pray, no oh ’cause Sunday’s Family day

[Chorus]

[Bridge x2:]
Do you got benefits, no, credit cards, no, house keys, no, then youse a sideline ho,
do you get pillow talk, no, held at night, no,
if you don’t make his breakfast then youse a sideline ho

[Chorus]

[x3:]
Youse a ho, Youse a ho, sideline ho

Why she always gotta call the law? November 30, 2008

The best song in the world is being removed from the net. That’s right, “From Her Mama (Mama Got Ass)” has been deleted from YouTube. Google found it elsewhere but I am suspicious. We will forever be deprived of Paul Wall’s braids. Probably because of financial issues. We should all smoke a bowl in it’s honor. If you are too grief-stricken, I will smoke yours for you. No need to thank me. That’s what friends are for.

A trip to Walgreens always cheers me up, and today I got batteries, eyeliner and candy canes. The manager totes gave me shade. Whatever. At least I don’t work at Walgreens. So I was buying eyeliner cuz this hot Greek bitch was telling me how she loves the Prestige liquid eyeliner. I would expect her to wear something much fancier, so I had to check it out. Did you know they make it glittery?! Glittery, bitches! I had to test it though, so I put it up against Wet ‘n Wild. I had mentioned them here recently and I thought I should give it a chance. And it was $2. And I heard the L’Oreal one sucks. And I don’t touch Maybelline. Cuz fuck you, Great Lash. So I put one on each lid and went about my business. And guess what? Wet ‘n Wild totes won! They make it glittery AND waterproof. I cry at sweet commercials, so waterproof is a must. The Prestige liner gave me sad Courtney Love raccoon eye while I watched Faith Hill’s Christmas concert. The color wasn’t that rich to begin with, either. It was thick, flat and very obviously painted on. It was just too stark a contrast on skin, which naturally looks rather soft and is just a bit translucent. WNW had some depth to it so it didn’t look too terribly unnatural. It lasted thru the concert and a disco nap and the applicator didn’t hurt. The Prestige applicator is just kind of a stick. Who cares about your safety? Rub this stick on your eyeball. WNW has this soft little brush that I found to be easier to manage, and it didn’t put any pressure on my $3000 corneal flaps. So there you go, you broke ass heffas. Your recession beauty tip of the…..well, of the recession cuz I have things to do dammit.

Well, hrmph. July 23, 2008

So, I have a Kyocera phone. I totes love it, except that I can’t silence the shutter sound on the camera. It’s been bothering me for, oh, a year. Well! Today on Jezebel I learned that the new iPhone has this same problem. And it’s supposed to! It’s meant to deter pre-verts who take upskirt and downblouse pictures. BTW, downblousing totally sounds like something sexy pirates do, so I approve. Anyway, I don’t like this at all. I see many interesting things. Sweet mullets, androgynous emo people, hippie chicks, pink cement trucks, etc. And I can’t take a picture to send to my besty, because my phone sounds like a goddamn Polaroid. This is like, affecting my quality of life, yo. And I don’t get upskirting anyway. Labias are gross.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I just had a brilliant idea, and I have to go Google “wet boxers contest”.

What I learned in class today… (Rated R) July 16, 2008

I started school again after a (measly) four week summer break.

I learned many interesting things, actually, but I’m going to cut to the meat of the matter.

My art teacher has a ginormous wang.

He seems like a pretty cool guy, very much an artist type. A tiny bit unkempt, enthusiastic, tight plain tee shirt and even tighter black jeans. Really tight jeans. Really.

I was so completely distracted, I spent a good five to ten minutes of class trying to figure out if that huge tubular bulge on his upper right thigh was for real. Like, maybe he honestly has a roll of quarters in his pocket? No, a roll of coins wouldn’t curve like that. A banana? No, the jeans are too tight, it would squish. Oh, have mercy, could it be real?

Then I had to contemplate whether he had a prestigious package, or maybe he just really, really liked art, ifyaknowwhatimean. He did describe several pieces of art as "sexy," and, well, who am I to judge?

So, yes, it was an informative day back in school. Far more so than I cared.

(Why couldn’t I have decided on a business degree? Noooo, I gotta go to an art school. Never a dull day, I swear.)

(And, on the off chance he stumbles accross this. Um, does this mean I’m getting an automatic fail? Or automatic A+? I did use the term ginormous.)

Call A&E July 16, 2008

Cuz we need an intervention! I was catching up on my dlisted and I made this horrifying discovery:

The Douche-neck in action.

My fellow Chicagoans, if we have any concern for our public image we must stop this douche-osity at once. The Piven! In a V-neck! And it’s tucked in! And he looks half dead! And there’s some poor woman with him! Run, bitch, run!

Gah, it’s a wonder the universe didn’t implode when that shirt touched his skin.

I also found some of Lindsay Lohan’s new leggings.

*snicker*

Yeah, I know what these were made for. Think The Piven will buy them for his lady friend?

Things Someone More Motivated Than Me Should Totes Investigate June 16, 2008

So I noticed a couple of things lately.

Thing the first: Last week, for a few days, I was happy. “Happy” as in “not sad”. I can’t begin to tell you how strange it felt. I just sat there pondering it the entire time. But even the pondering didn’t change my mood! I felt good, dammit. And then…. I didn’t. It was gone. I realized that the only difference between then and now was that now my knees are all hurty. Actually, I pretty much always feel shitty in some way. Could it really be that simple for some people? Vague physical unpleasantness = “I wonder if cyanide tastes bad”? And those teensy stretches of time when no ailment is present feel downright blissful? Someone should study that.

Thing the second: I usually wear baggy clothes and spend most of my life in tiny rooms, maneuvering around a bed-like thingy that takes up pretty much all the floor space. Because massage therapists are not allowed to be cute lest they be propositioned. And because business owners in this town can’t afford to give a bitch some acceptable square footage. Given that I have to look bad ON PURPOSE (!!!!) and I am rarely in spaces that can comfortably accommodate both me and my client, it makes sense that I walk around feeling like a big fat fugly cow. I didn’t connect the dots until very recently. Like, a couple days ago. I have a new-ish job where there really isn’t a dress code and the rooms are actually big enough to walk around the table without having to turn sideways ever so gently so as not to jostle your clients. Actually, I could waltz around the table and no one would get hurt. Uhh…. not that I’ve tried it or anything. But anyway, I saw myself in the mirror there and I looked normal. As in, not obese. Which is sort of maybe just a tad interesting. Maybe some people with eating disorders and such just need more space? I don’t have any kinda disorder but I totally understand where those poor girls are coming from. I’m probs just too lazy to be disordered. It looks like hard work, which I am completely averse to.

Don’t forget to eat, my precious lambs!

I can’t take it anymore. February 1, 2008

This election is inescapable. I didn’t care much about it in the first place. I just watched to see Hil & Bill fuck up some more, which they did. They’re such a car wreck. And I maybe wanted just a little to kind of sort of gaze upon John Edwards. But now he is out of the race, so whatevs. Write in Christopher Robin for all I care. Serious-lah. I can’t get behind any of these ‘tards. And yet everywhere I turn, there they are. Where ever I go, whatever I do, they will be right there waiting for me. So to give myself a break from all that, here is

MIKE ROWE PETTING A PENGUIN!

But wait, there’s more. The penguin is then CRADLED IN MIKE ROWE’S LAP!

I just ovulated. Also, hee hee tummy pudge! *poke*

Pirates vs. Ninjas December 18, 2007

Ah yes, the age old question. Which is more badass, the pirate or the ninja? I have- as I’m sure we all have- thought about this extensively. In fact, it often keeps me up at night. There’s just so much to think about! So many subtle nuances.

But I believe the question is deeper than that… I mean, why stop there? The world contains so much more than just pirates and ninjas! What about robots, samuari, zombies, vampires, mutants, werewolves, aliens- and so much more, so much more.

When sticking to the basics, to me there is no question. Pirates. Pirates all the way. Yeah, ninjas are stealthy, but pirates don’t need to sneak around. They come at you screaming ARRR! at the top of their piratey lungs. Ninjas have shiny throwing stars and katanas and such, but a pirate will kill you with any old thing laying around. A pirate will kill you with the wooden leg of one of his companions fighting next to him, and that pirate will rip off his other leg to beat you to death with, if nothing else was available. Yeah, I’m a fan of pirates.

But… Broaden the spectrum a bit, and the zombie takes the lead. Those fuckers are dead and rotting and will still feast on your fucking brains.

Just pray the world never sees a pirate zombie, or we shall be truly doomed.

Random lame bitching November 12, 2007

Brought to you by Lattelicious.

So I’m sitting in the library. I’ve never used the computers in the library here. I check in, get a sign thingy telling me to use comp. #8. I go and find #8, and there’s a guy sitting there with no sign. I ask if he checked in, he hasn’t, I say, Well, you’re kinda on the computer they told me to use. So we go up and ask if he can check in and switch with me so he doesn’t need to move. Yeah, turns out that there are two sets of numbered computers. One for AI students, one for Argosy students. Nothing to say which is which, and no one said, “Oh, use the center bank of computers, not the ones against the wall.” Lame.

I always seem to be plagued by incompetent teachers. My assignment today in my computer class: To better understand HTML, type up this printed page exactly the way it already is. Do not be concerned that no one actually told you what any of the commands are, such things are unimportant. If you already know something about HTML, or are reasonably intelligent, you can correct the obvious mistakes/errors/typos and either get extra credit or points taken off. It’ll be a surprise!

But, the small things make life better. Chocolate has mood enhancing chemicals. Cheeseburgers are good for my soul. Music gives me perspective. And if I can just make it through these Times of Great Lameness, I have faith that the Days that Do Not Require Medicinal Cheeseburgers will come.

Amen, my sisters.

Oh No They Di’int! November 7, 2007

Helllll to the no!

It’s a Fugly Footwear Throwdown now!

Ugh!