I've been in overdrive since 6:00 this morning. We're pulling together the details of our trip to Salt Lake City and preparing to fly out at 5:30 this evening. Hope Grandma Alberta's 90th birthday is a hit.
I'll write when I get back.
September 27, 2006
September 26, 2006
Superdome
Am I way off base here or is it unacceptable that the Superdome has undergone a facelift while the rest of New Orleans sits in ruins?
September 25, 2006
Clinton Talks Back
I'm sure you've heard about this by now, but I had to share.
This is my favorite part:
"And you got that little smirk on your face and you think you’re so clever..."
This is my favorite part:
"And you got that little smirk on your face and you think you’re so clever..."
Girl's Night
I went to a girl's night on Saturday that was guaranteed to be a lot of fun but I didn't expect it to be this crazy.
September 21, 2006
MRI
Logic called me from work last week to say he'd lost his vision for nearly 2 minutes while on the phone with a customer. I rushed to his office and took him to the doctor. They scheduled an MRI for the next day. I freaked out. In my mind, once a Hodgkins patient, always a Hodgkins patient. I feared the worst.
We got to the hospital at 7:3o on Thursday night. I felt like I was going to have a panic attack. Probably because I'd had 3 in the E.R. within the last year. The MRI tech was amazing. He talked Justin through the entire thing, and in between scans, spent the majority of his downtime conversing with me.
We left the hospital at 10 that night and I didn't sleep well. I had a mini meltdown in front of Logic (which I was trying to avoid). In typical reverse fashion, he calmed me down.
We spent the weekend acting like everything was okay. Not mentioning it once.
Monday morning rolled around and we went back to the doctor for the MRI results.
Every minute that ticked by reaffirmed my fears. I became increasingly anxious. And then. Then the song "Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman" came on in the waiting room.
Memories of an ex boyfriend flashed in front of me. An ex boyfriend whom I cared a great deal for. And who died at the tender age of 17 in a car crash. You see, that was our song. At first I thought it might be a sign that Logic would soon be leaving me too. But Aaron reassured me that it was his way of trying to comfort me.
Thank you Aaron. I miss you.
*the MRI came back normal.
We got to the hospital at 7:3o on Thursday night. I felt like I was going to have a panic attack. Probably because I'd had 3 in the E.R. within the last year. The MRI tech was amazing. He talked Justin through the entire thing, and in between scans, spent the majority of his downtime conversing with me.
We left the hospital at 10 that night and I didn't sleep well. I had a mini meltdown in front of Logic (which I was trying to avoid). In typical reverse fashion, he calmed me down.
We spent the weekend acting like everything was okay. Not mentioning it once.
Monday morning rolled around and we went back to the doctor for the MRI results.
Every minute that ticked by reaffirmed my fears. I became increasingly anxious. And then. Then the song "Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman" came on in the waiting room.
Memories of an ex boyfriend flashed in front of me. An ex boyfriend whom I cared a great deal for. And who died at the tender age of 17 in a car crash. You see, that was our song. At first I thought it might be a sign that Logic would soon be leaving me too. But Aaron reassured me that it was his way of trying to comfort me.
Thank you Aaron. I miss you.
*the MRI came back normal.
Chemo Limo
Having married into a family where cancer is not out of the ordinary, I think I have a pretty good grasp on what it's like to go through chemotherapy. I hope to never know more than I do now.
From what I've seen, chemo is a test of a person's strenth of mind and body. It makes or breaks your spirit. And even years after chemo (and radiation) the recipient typically has related health issues.
So when I heard a song called Chemo Limo by Regina Spektor it sparked my imagination. What if there WAS such a thing as a chemo limo? What if cancer patients were able to have their chemo treatment in the back of a limosine? Or better yet, at a spa?
Sure, they'd have a catheter or I.V. dripping their cocktail into their bloodstream, but they'd also be getting a foot massage, or a facial. Wouldn't that be a great alternative to watching Mama's Family on a 1980's t.v.?
From what I've seen, chemo is a test of a person's strenth of mind and body. It makes or breaks your spirit. And even years after chemo (and radiation) the recipient typically has related health issues.
So when I heard a song called Chemo Limo by Regina Spektor it sparked my imagination. What if there WAS such a thing as a chemo limo? What if cancer patients were able to have their chemo treatment in the back of a limosine? Or better yet, at a spa?
Sure, they'd have a catheter or I.V. dripping their cocktail into their bloodstream, but they'd also be getting a foot massage, or a facial. Wouldn't that be a great alternative to watching Mama's Family on a 1980's t.v.?
September 15, 2006
An Open Letter To Faith Hill
Dear Faith,
Being the kind of person that radiates off the cd/movie screen/tv as you do, I can only imagine you receive letters like this frequently. But as overstated as it may be, I have to let you know that I give you credit for getting me through the winter of 2005.
Your cd "Fireflies" was a security blanket for me when I was adjusting to a new life as an anxiety sufferer. In fact, I'm surprised the cd still plays. I found "Fireflies" and "A Wish For You" to be especially comforting and often played them on repeat during panic attacks. It was by the grace of you that I was able to calm down long enough to understand how to help myself through them.
Thank you,
Me
Being the kind of person that radiates off the cd/movie screen/tv as you do, I can only imagine you receive letters like this frequently. But as overstated as it may be, I have to let you know that I give you credit for getting me through the winter of 2005.
Your cd "Fireflies" was a security blanket for me when I was adjusting to a new life as an anxiety sufferer. In fact, I'm surprised the cd still plays. I found "Fireflies" and "A Wish For You" to be especially comforting and often played them on repeat during panic attacks. It was by the grace of you that I was able to calm down long enough to understand how to help myself through them.
Thank you,
Me
G Rated Ideas
I have a knack for helping people. It's not something I am quite comfortable with yet. Afterall, I am the world's one-and-only extrovert who shies away from opening up to people. That's another blog in itself, but for today I'll broaden this a bit and just say that being a Libra has given me the insight to see other people for who they are and give them what they show me that they need. I have a lot of fun "reading" people whether they are friends or strangers but when it comes to showing them who I am I tend to cower away.
But there is one thing I've learned to really enjoy. Helping people come up with ideas for gifts/party themes/romantic scenarios. I like putting myself in place of the recipient and exploring unique ideas that I think that person would like.
If only I could earn a living doing it.
But there is one thing I've learned to really enjoy. Helping people come up with ideas for gifts/party themes/romantic scenarios. I like putting myself in place of the recipient and exploring unique ideas that I think that person would like.
If only I could earn a living doing it.
Happy Birthday Paige
You say it's your birthday
It's my birthday too--yeah
They say it's your birthday
We're gonna have a good time
I'm glad it's your birthday
Happy birthday to you.
Yes we're going to a party party
Yes we're going to a party party
Yes we're going to a party party.
I would like you to dance--Birthday
Take a cha-cha-cha-chance-Birthday
I would like you to dance--Birthday
Dance
You say it's your birthday
Well it's my birthday too--yeah
You say it's your birthday
We're gonna have a good time
I'm glad it's your birthday
Happy birthday to you.
I love you sister!
It's my birthday too--yeah
They say it's your birthday
We're gonna have a good time
I'm glad it's your birthday
Happy birthday to you.
Yes we're going to a party party
Yes we're going to a party party
Yes we're going to a party party.
I would like you to dance--Birthday
Take a cha-cha-cha-chance-Birthday
I would like you to dance--Birthday
Dance
You say it's your birthday
Well it's my birthday too--yeah
You say it's your birthday
We're gonna have a good time
I'm glad it's your birthday
Happy birthday to you.
I love you sister!
September 13, 2006
Not Too Shabby
I logged onto msnbc.com this morning and was reminded of Meredith Vieira's first day on The Today Show. Being a big fan of Katie Couric, I wasn't sure how much I would enjoy seeing someone take her place. But I have to say that I was pleasantly surprised.
I've only been able to see clips of the first hour of the show, but from what I witnessed, Meredith seems to be a good fit. Not only does she have the expertise, but she is strong and tender, funny and serious. I look forward to seeing more of her on the show.
I've only been able to see clips of the first hour of the show, but from what I witnessed, Meredith seems to be a good fit. Not only does she have the expertise, but she is strong and tender, funny and serious. I look forward to seeing more of her on the show.
September 12, 2006
Max
A few weeks ago when Logic and I went camping in Cle Elum we had a really nice time. The location wasn't as secluded as we would have liked, but the scenery was beautiful and the hiking trails were ideal.
Because Molly and I didn't have the time to plan a trip of our own, we accepted an offer to meet up with another group and basically mooch off of their planned trip. (I've explained most of this before, but I'm just giving you a refresher...)
Anyway, at the campsite there were a total of about 15 people. Only 5 of which I knew. So the next day when Molly, Jeff, Logic and I decided to go for a hike we offered to include the rest of the group. Liz (our other friend) joined us while her fiancee slept off his hangover. As we were loading into the truck Max asked if he could come too. We obliged and set off toward Salmon La Sac.
Once there, we hiked 3 miles to a clearing that opened to the Cle Elum River. Tired and thirsty, we decided to stop and relax. The next thing we know Max is up the stream, in his boxer briefs.
This might sound fascinating to you, but to us it was quite traumatic. Max is not the Adonis that he would be in my imagination. No, he is a middle aged man with a fairly tubby figure. And a lot of conspicuous hair.
Not only did he act as if this was completely normal, but he continued to one-up himself by getting his light grey undies completely wet and then electing to keep his clothes off during the 3 mile trek back to the truck.
That was odd enough, but once we got back to the campsite we discovered that no one actually knew Max.
Because Molly and I didn't have the time to plan a trip of our own, we accepted an offer to meet up with another group and basically mooch off of their planned trip. (I've explained most of this before, but I'm just giving you a refresher...)
Anyway, at the campsite there were a total of about 15 people. Only 5 of which I knew. So the next day when Molly, Jeff, Logic and I decided to go for a hike we offered to include the rest of the group. Liz (our other friend) joined us while her fiancee slept off his hangover. As we were loading into the truck Max asked if he could come too. We obliged and set off toward Salmon La Sac.
Once there, we hiked 3 miles to a clearing that opened to the Cle Elum River. Tired and thirsty, we decided to stop and relax. The next thing we know Max is up the stream, in his boxer briefs.
This might sound fascinating to you, but to us it was quite traumatic. Max is not the Adonis that he would be in my imagination. No, he is a middle aged man with a fairly tubby figure. And a lot of conspicuous hair.
Not only did he act as if this was completely normal, but he continued to one-up himself by getting his light grey undies completely wet and then electing to keep his clothes off during the 3 mile trek back to the truck.
That was odd enough, but once we got back to the campsite we discovered that no one actually knew Max.
Hootenanny
Ever heard that word before? It's in the dictionary. Hootenanny refers to a social gathering involving folk music and is sometimes used to describe a thingamabob. But in my house hootenanny was what we called a breakfast dish that my mom made. Hootenanny pancakes were really good, but the word drove me crazy.
In retrospect I think it was during a time when everything my mom said or did was considered the ultimate in irritation to me. Whether it was the way she combed her hair or the clothes she wore - she was ripped apart nearly everyday by herbitchy darling little daughter. So when it came to some of the phrases that were a part of her vernacular/Midwest accent there was no exception. Brad instead of bread, davenport instead of couch... I could go on.
Hootenanny pancakes were just another example of my distaste for everything "mom". It got to the point where I would throw a fit whenever the word was said and I claimed to hate it more than anything else in the world.
In recent years a lot has changed in my life. Mostly, I grew up. I became aware of the fleeting reality of life and the importance of the loved once I share it with. And most importantly, I've learned that my mom is one of the coolest people I'll ever know.
Honestly we don't have much in common, but that doesn't matter. I learn from her and she learns from me. And we both love each other enough to continue to work at our relationship.
One of the realities of life is the probability that I will outlive my mom. But at least I will have the joy of remembering her whenever someone describes a folk festival or tries to explain a thingamabob.
In retrospect I think it was during a time when everything my mom said or did was considered the ultimate in irritation to me. Whether it was the way she combed her hair or the clothes she wore - she was ripped apart nearly everyday by her
Hootenanny pancakes were just another example of my distaste for everything "mom". It got to the point where I would throw a fit whenever the word was said and I claimed to hate it more than anything else in the world.
In recent years a lot has changed in my life. Mostly, I grew up. I became aware of the fleeting reality of life and the importance of the loved once I share it with. And most importantly, I've learned that my mom is one of the coolest people I'll ever know.
Honestly we don't have much in common, but that doesn't matter. I learn from her and she learns from me. And we both love each other enough to continue to work at our relationship.
One of the realities of life is the probability that I will outlive my mom. But at least I will have the joy of remembering her whenever someone describes a folk festival or tries to explain a thingamabob.
Pleasures
Any help with this would be greatly appreciated ~
I'm going to a girl's night party next Saturday night and everyone is supposed to bring a gift. The theme is 'pleasure' and I want to be creative. Since I'm not creative, I want YOU to be creative. ;)
The examples that were given were: wine, movies, coloring books - whatever floats your boat.
So far I've ruled out cozy pajamas because I'd hate to get something too small for the recipient. Candles and bathsoaps are okay - but overdone.
And music is so personal.
HELP!
I'm going to a girl's night party next Saturday night and everyone is supposed to bring a gift. The theme is 'pleasure' and I want to be creative. Since I'm not creative, I want YOU to be creative. ;)
The examples that were given were: wine, movies, coloring books - whatever floats your boat.
So far I've ruled out cozy pajamas because I'd hate to get something too small for the recipient. Candles and bathsoaps are okay - but overdone.
And music is so personal.
HELP!
September 11, 2006
Tired of Coming to This Site Just to Find Out I've Been Slacking?
Since I tend to blog sporatically, I thought I'd introduce you to bloglines. You can subscibe to my blog and it will notify you when I submit a post.
That way you won't have to miss a single blog. (Could I get any more narcissistic?)
That way you won't have to miss a single blog. (Could I get any more narcissistic?)
September 08, 2006
Amaya
Willow and Lach tend to distract me at work. Yes, I said it. I'm completely helpless to the instant messages that they include me in. So it shouldn't come as a surprise when I tell you that my work tends to flounder on Mondays, Fridays and all the days in between.
I love the talks we have. Some are a bit randy but most are inspiring. We tend to talk about our lives, our partners, our jobs, and sometimes we throw out scenarios of made-up situations.
For instance, a few months back I mentioned a silly story I made up to go along with my yahoo avatar.
See, I found an avatar dress that looked like a kimono and a background that showed a red carpet stretched out to greet a white limosine. So I imagined that I was a movie star at a movie premiere in Tokyo. The movie was about a secret service agent who was on the tail of a serial killer hiding in the Congo.
I wasn't sure how they were going to react to my story. After all, my imagination can sometimes be too much for people. But I was suprised to find them both joining in. It was so fun! We came up with names for our characters and threw out ideas regarding the script.
My character, the protagonist, was named Amaya which means "night rain". Her hunt through the Congo wasn't only a search for a killer, but also for her identity. She spent months rushing through groves and sleeping in caves with only her bodyguard for company.
This is where Lach comes into play. She is an elite bodyguard who spent years in the military and protects her clients with a ruthless abandon. And Willow, the vice president of the United States who plays an elusive role in the drama.
We got so wrapped up in the story that we started to organize script meetings and talk about how we would spend time at home working on our parts.
It never happened with our busy lives and all. But it convinced me that writing should be a part of my life. It was the inspiration for this blog. AND my name.
I love the talks we have. Some are a bit randy but most are inspiring. We tend to talk about our lives, our partners, our jobs, and sometimes we throw out scenarios of made-up situations.
For instance, a few months back I mentioned a silly story I made up to go along with my yahoo avatar.
See, I found an avatar dress that looked like a kimono and a background that showed a red carpet stretched out to greet a white limosine. So I imagined that I was a movie star at a movie premiere in Tokyo. The movie was about a secret service agent who was on the tail of a serial killer hiding in the Congo.
I wasn't sure how they were going to react to my story. After all, my imagination can sometimes be too much for people. But I was suprised to find them both joining in. It was so fun! We came up with names for our characters and threw out ideas regarding the script.
My character, the protagonist, was named Amaya which means "night rain". Her hunt through the Congo wasn't only a search for a killer, but also for her identity. She spent months rushing through groves and sleeping in caves with only her bodyguard for company.
This is where Lach comes into play. She is an elite bodyguard who spent years in the military and protects her clients with a ruthless abandon. And Willow, the vice president of the United States who plays an elusive role in the drama.
We got so wrapped up in the story that we started to organize script meetings and talk about how we would spend time at home working on our parts.
It never happened with our busy lives and all. But it convinced me that writing should be a part of my life. It was the inspiration for this blog. AND my name.
A Tribute
"It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood. A beautiful day for a neighbor. Would you be mine? Could you be mine? Won't you be my neighbor? I have always wanted to have a neighbor just like you. I've always wanted to live in a neighborhood with you. So, let's make the most of this beautiful day. Since we're together we might as well say. Would you be mine? Could you be mine? Won't you be my neighbor?"
I used to start my mornings with Mr. Rogers Neighborhood and continue to find great solace in that song. Oh, Mr. Rogers, you are missed.
I used to start my mornings with Mr. Rogers Neighborhood and continue to find great solace in that song. Oh, Mr. Rogers, you are missed.
September 07, 2006
R.O.U.S.
[after Westley rescues her from the lightning quicksand]
Buttercup: We'll never succeed. We may as well die here.
Westley: No, no. We have already succeeded. I mean, what are the three terrors of the Fire Swamp? One, the flame spurt - no problem. There's a popping sound preceding each; we can avoid that. Two, the lightning sand, which you were clever enough to discover what that looks like, so in the future we can avoid that too.
Buttercup: Westley, what about the R.O.U.S.'s?
Westley: Rodents Of Unusual Size? I don't think they exist.
[Immediately, an R.O.U.S. attacks him]
~quote curtosy of imdb.com
~photo curtosy of www.lifesciences.asu.edu
Salt Water Taffy
Funny how some memories just pop into your head randomly.
I was 8 and we were living in Council. I went to the warm springs near our town with my 2nd grade class. I remember sitting on a hot vynil bus seat in my swimsuit and towel. Water dripping down my back from my wet hair. The sun shining on my face. And I was eating a green apple square of salt water taffy from the concession stand.
I was 8 and we were living in Council. I went to the warm springs near our town with my 2nd grade class. I remember sitting on a hot vynil bus seat in my swimsuit and towel. Water dripping down my back from my wet hair. The sun shining on my face. And I was eating a green apple square of salt water taffy from the concession stand.
September 06, 2006
Former Rap Fan
I used to love rap. I loved the beats, the flow.. It was rebellious and raw and it made me feel powerful. I would spend my measly paycheck on Tupac, Nas, Jay-Z and Biggie; I would hole up in my bedroom and put my favorite songs on repeat. Looking back, rap music defined my teens.
In an effort to reconnect with that sense of defiance I occasionally try to listen to what's out there today. Sadly, it doesn't take long for me to get frustrated and change it to an Alt Rock station. (Who knows, maybe Alt Rock is the new rap? The place where artists go to speak their minds and express themselves without having their lyrics all rhyme with cock?)
At first I thought this might be part of the transition into adult-hood. First comes the sporadic yelling of "damn kids" as you're cut off by a new Lexus SUV with a 16 year old driver. Then you lose your taste for rap music. But I'm starting to think it's not me... It's the rap. The shock has worn off and it's faltering.
It's not just about the beats - which have, in my opinion, grown weak and generic, but the lyrics have changed from protest to degradation. Here's an example of what I used to listen to compared to what's out there now:
Tupac - Hold Ya Head (1997)
"How do we keep the music playing
How do we get ahead
To many young black brothers are dying
Living Fast, too fast
These felonies be like prophecies
Begging me to stop
Cuz These lawyers getting money
Everytime they knock us
Slashing pockets lyrically
Suckas fleed when they notice
Switched my name to Makaveli
Had the rap game closed
Expose foes, with my hocus pocus flows
They froze
Now suckas idealize my choosen Blows
More money mean litigating
More Playa hating
Got a cell at the penn for me waiting
Is this my fate
Miss me with that mistermeaner thinking
Me fall back
Never That
Too much Tequilla drinking
We all that
Make them understand me
Hey I'll stay all night out with my Posse
Everyone roll with me is family
Cuz everybodies got me
Watch me paint a perfect vision
This life we living
Got us all meeting up in Prison
Last week I got a letter from my road dog
Written in Blood
Saying, "Please show a young playa love"
Hold your head
Hold it"
50 Cent - Fat Bitch (2002)
"I'll say something nice about ya eyes, cause you's a big bitch man
Yeah, It's nothin' but a little baby phat phat
Them Entenmann's dun got your ass fat fat
Them Little Debbie's dun got your ass fat fat
These cup cakes dun got your ass fat fat
Yeah, It's nothin' but a little baby phat phat
[Tony Yayo]
I ain't no trick, I ain't have to borrow with my wallet
Freakin' off in your car, on your closet
It ain't nothing wrong wit a big, strong girl
If you can cook your ass off, I'll give you the world
You can be skinny or fat, white or black
Nigga pussy is pussy so, yeah, I'll hit that
I'm a freak, sure I love minage a trois
And I really care lees if you twice my size
Don't be stuck on the things they say
now you know it's a nasty world ' It's a nasty world
I ain't fuckin wit you anyway
cause I know your a nasty girl - You's a nasty girl
I ain't never gon discriminate, so let me compliment your eyes
I'm a compliment your eyes
Yayo'll fuck wit you big bitches but I'm a stay the fuck away from ya
Them Twinkies got your ass gettin' fat fat
Them cookies got your ass gettin' fat fat
That cake got your ass gettin' fat fat
Bitch you grown, that ain't baby fat fat
Stay the fuck away from, you fuckin fat bitch
Fuck wit Tony Yayo, ho"
Granted, this is just an example of what's out there now. And to be fair, rappers have always talked about women. But it seems the fight that was once in rap has buried it's head in shame.
~I would like to make a point of discluding Hip Hop from this article. In my opinion, Hip Hop still has it's raw edge and artistry.
In an effort to reconnect with that sense of defiance I occasionally try to listen to what's out there today. Sadly, it doesn't take long for me to get frustrated and change it to an Alt Rock station. (Who knows, maybe Alt Rock is the new rap? The place where artists go to speak their minds and express themselves without having their lyrics all rhyme with cock?)
At first I thought this might be part of the transition into adult-hood. First comes the sporadic yelling of "damn kids" as you're cut off by a new Lexus SUV with a 16 year old driver. Then you lose your taste for rap music. But I'm starting to think it's not me... It's the rap. The shock has worn off and it's faltering.
It's not just about the beats - which have, in my opinion, grown weak and generic, but the lyrics have changed from protest to degradation. Here's an example of what I used to listen to compared to what's out there now:
Tupac - Hold Ya Head (1997)
"How do we keep the music playing
How do we get ahead
To many young black brothers are dying
Living Fast, too fast
These felonies be like prophecies
Begging me to stop
Cuz These lawyers getting money
Everytime they knock us
Slashing pockets lyrically
Suckas fleed when they notice
Switched my name to Makaveli
Had the rap game closed
Expose foes, with my hocus pocus flows
They froze
Now suckas idealize my choosen Blows
More money mean litigating
More Playa hating
Got a cell at the penn for me waiting
Is this my fate
Miss me with that mistermeaner thinking
Me fall back
Never That
Too much Tequilla drinking
We all that
Make them understand me
Hey I'll stay all night out with my Posse
Everyone roll with me is family
Cuz everybodies got me
Watch me paint a perfect vision
This life we living
Got us all meeting up in Prison
Last week I got a letter from my road dog
Written in Blood
Saying, "Please show a young playa love"
Hold your head
Hold it"
50 Cent - Fat Bitch (2002)
"I'll say something nice about ya eyes, cause you's a big bitch man
Yeah, It's nothin' but a little baby phat phat
Them Entenmann's dun got your ass fat fat
Them Little Debbie's dun got your ass fat fat
These cup cakes dun got your ass fat fat
Yeah, It's nothin' but a little baby phat phat
[Tony Yayo]
I ain't no trick, I ain't have to borrow with my wallet
Freakin' off in your car, on your closet
It ain't nothing wrong wit a big, strong girl
If you can cook your ass off, I'll give you the world
You can be skinny or fat, white or black
Nigga pussy is pussy so, yeah, I'll hit that
I'm a freak, sure I love minage a trois
And I really care lees if you twice my size
Don't be stuck on the things they say
now you know it's a nasty world ' It's a nasty world
I ain't fuckin wit you anyway
cause I know your a nasty girl - You's a nasty girl
I ain't never gon discriminate, so let me compliment your eyes
I'm a compliment your eyes
Yayo'll fuck wit you big bitches but I'm a stay the fuck away from ya
Them Twinkies got your ass gettin' fat fat
Them cookies got your ass gettin' fat fat
That cake got your ass gettin' fat fat
Bitch you grown, that ain't baby fat fat
Stay the fuck away from, you fuckin fat bitch
Fuck wit Tony Yayo, ho"
Granted, this is just an example of what's out there now. And to be fair, rappers have always talked about women. But it seems the fight that was once in rap has buried it's head in shame.
~I would like to make a point of discluding Hip Hop from this article. In my opinion, Hip Hop still has it's raw edge and artistry.
September 05, 2006
The Man Period
There is a friend of mine who shall remain nameless. I think he might have a man period. I've waited months to write this - hoping to find a flaw in my experiment. But alas, he has only proven my theory more and more.
He goes from my genial partner-in-crime to a radiating beacon of aggression in a 24 hour timeframe. And it usually lasts a day or two before he returns to his former self.
Never is there any recognition of his Jekyll and Hyde persona.
Shh! Don't tell him I said that. He's on his period today.
He goes from my genial partner-in-crime to a radiating beacon of aggression in a 24 hour timeframe. And it usually lasts a day or two before he returns to his former self.
Never is there any recognition of his Jekyll and Hyde persona.
Shh! Don't tell him I said that. He's on his period today.
Personalized T-Shirts
I recently read an article in Allure magazine about a woman who decided to make up some shirts that showcased her inner dialogue. For example, one shirt said, "I had to sell an egg" and she wore it to work to let her boss know that she thought she deserved a raise.
This got me thinking about what shirts I would want to wear. Here's my rough draft:
1) "I Know More Than My Boss Does"
2) "The Beer Mellowed Me Out
(Bet You Wish I Was Still Drinking)"
3) "I Don't Know What I Want To Be When I Grow Up"
4) "I Have Baggage"
5) "Former Rap Fan" (this just added)
This got me thinking about what shirts I would want to wear. Here's my rough draft:
1) "I Know More Than My Boss Does"
2) "The Beer Mellowed Me Out
(Bet You Wish I Was Still Drinking)"
3) "I Don't Know What I Want To Be When I Grow Up"
4) "I Have Baggage"
5) "Former Rap Fan" (this just added)
How Do You Like Your Justice Served?
Two weeks ago my in-laws went to a friend's cabin in a remote part of Oregon. They were all outside enjoying the sunset when they heard crashing metal proceeded by screeching tires.
By the time they got to the road they noticed that one of the cars was long gone - except for their bumper... which just so conveniently happened to have the license plate attached to it.
I would have paid good money to go with the police as they delivered the bumper/license plate to the person who did the hit and run.
By the time they got to the road they noticed that one of the cars was long gone - except for their bumper... which just so conveniently happened to have the license plate attached to it.
I would have paid good money to go with the police as they delivered the bumper/license plate to the person who did the hit and run.
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