I’d shelter you from the storms, slap anyone who dared to sadden your face. I’d just wanna feel you, love you, wear you. But I mean we could take it one step at a time. Start off stuntin down the block and then maybe at a party. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind stepping on some toes. You’re just too fly to be kept in a box. I mean just look at those wings. You’re my angel baby. Take me to heaven.
Would you?
Could you?
My birthday’s coming and you’d be worth all my cake. So what do you say?
This year’s VH1 Hip Hop Honors arrives during an interesting era for a genre dawned in the mid 70s. A Black man’s leading our presidential race, vocoders have become the new mics, and hipsters, well… are hip. As Fat Joe asserted to me at the Triple H premiere this past Thursday, “If you wanna wear retro gear, gummi bear hair styles and some tight jeans, you better figure out where you got it from.” Say word.
It’s good to work for Jews. Atleast twice a week anyway. For 12 years I was stuck stapling my Catholic school skirt up 4 inches, wondering why the hell since Jesus was a Jew we couldn’t get some extra days off like the public school kids. I mean the entire Old Testament is dedicated to Jews. I studied the Old Testament!!
My bad.
Catholic flashbacks can be unbearable.
The point is, I’m getting paid not to work during Roshashana. Which means I can stuff you fat with blog posts. And that’s 10x better than wearing LEIs to class.
[!] dude, remember LEIs??
when I don’t blog.
I miss sweet elementary hours.
When 60 minutes passed liked slugs and my fragile brain felt no strain.
That last part rhymed.
Ugh, an interruption from the over-analysis of adulthood. This is exactly why I want to be reincarnated into an anti-aging 10yr old. What a fucking life to lead.
Wait there was a point to all of this…
…okay I found it.
To any and all the zealous lefters who keep up with my chaotic blogging – I’m sorry. Lately I’ve been feeling like a squirrel caught in traffic: just trying to get by, quickly and strategically. Life’s whiplash is starting to make me dizzy. Not to mention it’s been chewing at my fingertips delaying our takeoff. My bad. Forgive me for not sharing my toilet secrets, chipotle dreams, and other idiosyncrasies as often as I should. It’s not the right blogger thing to do.
Forgive me?
Man, that was one hell of a rhetorical beast.
I forgive me too.
i fux with fannypak…heavy
im not sure about ciara’s hair. looks like it needs to be walked.
woah brit looks stunning circa 2001
wait revlon waves, idk bout that
little rushed, but she’s straight.
rihanna – morbid pleasure
great opener
wait was that some sparkle under the lip wayne? oh gawd.
russell brand is a rockstar wonka.
not sure about the set yet…looks a lil comic viewey
I’ve decided to spend this Saturday night letting my beige sheets feel up my ass. It makes up for the last time my bed has felt the flesh of sex. And that’s been a long time. Meeting my eye is Diddy slaving the kids on MTV – I think I hear my flakes drowning in the white sea – he’s puffed with machismo, they’re empty with hope. Did I really just catch myself swaying to Danny, wait no, Donnie’s joint?. Boom kat kat! I love Laurie Anne – milk slid down my lip – she’s a tiger and her new haircut is worthy of joccin. Damn, commercial. Hayden Pannewhatever…rainbow reggae? Really? It’s making me feel uncomfortable and that noass shot didn’t help. :( Aubrey better watch out she’s about to morph into that chick from I Love Money. Maybe it already started. Did her eyebrows burn off? I still like her. Wait – Dr. Love? Really Long Island? Actually there’s something soft and comforting about those awkwardly hunched shoulders. Nice spin Que – I like finding lost cranberries in my bowl – wait he’s gay I think. Isn’t everybody? Half or whole. Rarely skim. Now seriously who is Russell Brand? Wait.
Russell Edward Brand[1] (born June 4, 1975) is an English comedian, actor, columnist and presenter of radio andtelevision.
Oh okay.
I want a freaking wikipedia entry! Wait.
There is no page titled “tracy garraud”.
fuckapedia! It aint legit anyway.
Is Aubrey turning Diddy on? Nah, not enough androgyny.
Show’s done???? MTV’s Top Pop Group???? Ha! I’d rather coat my nudity in black and call it a night.
I’m a whore for lists. I will find any reason to create one. Any. It’s 2:15pm on a Thursday. That’s a good reason to create a list. Alright lets go!
5 Foods Every Fatty Should Die Eating
5. T.G.I. Friday’s Cheddar & Bacon Potato Skins – “You’re going to die from a heart attack.” Correction. You’re going to die from a happy heart. <3 = :)
4. Neuhaus Belgian Chocolate – For fatties with exquisite taste who’d rather spend their last 5 minutes licking wrappers, then kissing parents.
3. Philippine Brand Dried Mangoes – An exotic orgasm, seared and ready for eating. Heaven before heaven, yum!
2. Joya’s Chicken Pad Thai (minus the bean sprouts) – Slippery flat noodles wet with spices and sweets. Man, who wouldn’t want to peace with bulging cheeks of thai pleasure.
1. Chipotle (duh) Burrito Bowl – Mmm. It’s like having a Mariachi band cruise down your throat. Choking and dancing your way to death? Now that’s the way to go out.
[14:55] s: why is goodnight 1 word but good morning 2 separate words
[14:55] t: GOOD question
[14:55] t haha! im putting that in space
[14:55] t: are you sure about that???
[14:55] s: haha
[14:55] s: not completely
[14:55] s: but sure enough to ask you
Can you answer us please? I’ll give you something free!
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