Hoodrats Like Water. A Lot.

Since NBA All Star in Dallas is this weekend, I've decided to revisit hoodrattedness. I'm slipping! If I'm gonna land a baller, I've gotta start craving bread and welcome a parched throat. That way I'll have enough belly room for all the water I'm gonna need to cure cotton mouth.

First, I need to step my swag up. I'm looking very Plane Jane. The look is too studious; I'm slipping. I'm in dire need of a neck tattoo, clear chunky heels and plastic multicolored bangles if I want to get noticed by a baller this weekend.

Second, I've got to get with the program. I've been studying every picture of Nicki Minaj I can get my hands on for outfit ideas. It's a must to perfect the lines, "What kinda car you drivin'?" "Your striped polo is the shit!" and "Uhun, I ain't basic, I'm a five-star bitch!!" while cracking my Bubblicious. And, I have to make sure I harass the bartenders to replace my adult beverages and then confidently not tip.

Last, the hangers-on, fringe homies are going to be my target entry point to bagging a baller. Along with bodyguards, bouncers and barbacks. The more I act like I need a glass of tap water (cus it's free and it looks like a vodka tonic if you put a lime in it, ho!), the more ounces of Ace of Spades that is going to flow from a VIP bottle into my mouth to quench my thirst. 

If all else fails and I can't get into the super exclusive lounge areas, I'll just hawk the entrance, pacing back and forth in my discount platform heels until I get noticed and asked to fufill someone's pseudo-publicist "request" via the "How Low Can You Go" method. Or get told to beat it. 

Yep, that's pretty much how it's gonna go down.

He Likes Cracks, Not Cooters

So, I met this guy when I was 26 years old. And what I loved most, he had so much soul.... This guy was great. My dream. Tall and brown.

One great sense of humor. Check
Two degrees. Check.
Three Piece suit and impeccable taste. Check.
Four vehicles: two cars, a motorcycle and a boat. Check.
Five star restaurants and vacation spots. Check.
Over six feet tall. Check.
And, he was fine. Not no ordinary fine. Like a, not surpassed, but lapped Boris, Morris, and Micheal Jordan in '93 type of fine.

One catch, though. Just one.

And, before you jump to conclusions, yes he had a high FICO score. But back to the catch. And it came in the form of minor, teeny, small detail. He slipped up. He uttered the word "divo" in reference and reverence to Dwight Eubanks from RHOA.

Yep. You guessed it: HE'S GAY!

There went my dreams of a huge, Kimora Lee-style walk in closet. My visions of perfectly coiffed children with creative-chic names like Falcon and Sparrow. My chance at what could have been my Barack. My ticket out of Oklahoma. My future husband that would be okay with me keeping my last name. Poof. Gone. Gone into the depths of the tunnel of darkness that is anal play.

That's what I get for having respectable standards. If  I'd had hoodrat expectations, I'd have a straight man. Someone who's always home, because he's mooching off me. I wanna get married in nine yrs, I gotta start getting serious. And because of his affinity for peepees and not vajayjays, I have to start from scratch. I give up. He needs a beard, and I'll be that stoic partner that stands by his side when he gets caught in public restrooms with a barely legal boy toy and a pocket full of meth.

So, yeah. I'll marry a gay! We can have a life of wonderful dinners, imperially decorated homes, designer duds, great conversation, cuddle to watch Sex & the City on DVD together...as long as I get first dibs on that barely legal boy toy.

The show this in the day time???

Tsk, tsk, tsk at the Food Network for showing content not suitable for minors. What's up with the culinary porn? Yeah, I said it. And, I'm talking to you, Giada.

Anyone who's watched Giada De Laurentiis on her show Everyday Italian knows what I'm getting at. The soft, seductive vocals; sultry background muzak; unrealisticly full mounds, neat bushels, and sizeable carrots; and of course: the money shot.

Take a quick look below. The good stuff's at the :20 mark. Music at 1:50.

Oooohhhhh, yyeeaaaahhhh

Wanna Get Rid of Your Kids? For Good?

How about killing them off by buying them a Zhu Zhu Pet Hamster? or killing yourself off by listening to the theme song on their website?

If you've watched the news this past week, there were reports the toy hamsters contained chemicals that could harm children. There was a media frenzy about how scary and hateful these toys were, until the FDA and the manufacturer stepped in. Though it was found the toys DO contain the chemical Antimony, it's not enough to make kids sick.

UMMMMMM......

Why would you KNOWINGLY want your kid playing with a toy that has poison in it? No parent should be stupid enough to buy this for their kid. Unless they've got some evil Christmas wishes of their own...

Girl, U So Famous!!

I've now become my very own YOUTUBE CELEBRITY. Oh yes, I'm live & in color. Don't be mad when I become the next B. Scott, complete with dance sequences, love muffins and all!

Go watch me speak on the joys of unemployment and other "Why has Thou forsaken meeeee?" moments: Krish1922's Channel

Is He Teaching Any Classes?

Via: Crunk & Disorderly

Blow the Whistle!

Y'all know this is my song! If only I could get this put on the Cobalt! Bless Rubb Bubb & Lil' Sis' hearts.



Dead @ 1:36 mark & beyond.

AND they ran the stopsign...I'm done.

all black EVERYTHING.

This is an image I made for my other site [Glossy | Game] for all things black this fall.

Loving it.

Overnight Celebrity

I want my 15 minutes of fame, dang it! Why enroll in acting classes, learning to smile with my eyes, when I can become an insta-celeb; a reality star of sorts?

Hello YouTube! I'm thinking of starting my own channel. I'm already addicted, why not contribute to the monster? I've got a trusty formerly white MacBook and a lot on my mind. I can be the next LonleyGirl15, only in poor, back-lit bathroom lighting. I could talk about topics like feminism, afros and NOH8; about dating, Jesus and the perils of being a Have Not. The possibilities are abundant and endless!

What's wrong with microwaving my success and skyrocketing to viral video stardom?

everybody's talkin all this stuff about me...

This fool was jammin' back in '9os! These kid's and their colorful fashions ain't got nothing on Bobby's gumby! And, check out the pelvic roll in the intro...CLASSIC! I'm starting a petition for Chris Brown to remake this!! I said it once, and I'll say it again! Chris Brown, forget about Brittany Spears, do a remake!

Hoodrats have it Easy

Throughout my life I've been, for the most part, a nice young lady. There are times, however, when I long to live up to my age group and ethnicity and be a hoodrat.

Exhibiting Grade A Hoodrat behavior has its perks: free Wet n' Wild as a result of starting an argument with the girl at CVS, plenty of fast food to eat from my homegirl's Chic-Fil-A job, looking good with long hair don't care of the plastic variety, and above all, not to mention a plethora of available suitors, many of whom will do ME a favor by sitting at home all day, dilligently, intently & intensely watching my belongings along with my television. How sweet!

Certifiable Hoodrat status is not going to be easy. I will have to learn the words to every Three 6 Mafia song, and that includes Gangsta Boo, Project Pat, AND La Chat's "You Ain't Mad Iz Ya." I'm also going to have to learn a new vocabulary that includes "Baby Daddy," "5.7.9" and "100% Kanekalon Hair!!" And to prove myself even more, I'm going to have to acquire a love of White Tees on men for daytime & evening wear, and accept the wardrobing of striped polos for extra special occasions like weddings.

Being a hoodrat isn't going to be easy, but I'm not going to stop working at it. The benefits greatly outweigh being a classy young lady. I'm already on my way to the nearest Asian-owned Beauty Supply/Clothing store to get my swag up!!

For more information on Hoodrat Stuff, see the in-text links or visit: http://youknowyoudeadazzwrong.blogspot.com
Pics courtesty of You Know You Dead Azz Wrong & their respective copyright holders!

Girl U So Important!

Oh, the joys of Twitter. And in honor of such a wonderful microblogging institution, I will bow in reverence and twitterize this post!

Twtr's so great. I luv that I can fllw celebs & c thr tweets + talk 2 my real life ppl. Twtr hlped me use mac's "smmrze txt" option n txt edt.

Okay, enough of that. I feel like I'm 14 years old. Let me tell you what I REALLY think of Twitter. It's an addictive little site that educates you on the fine art of gracefully stalking people. Groupies get it IN and collect athlete's phone numbers like pubic lice. Celebs tweet every ten minutes (read: DIDDY) and expect you to give a damn! And worst of all, it makes average Joes with no social life whatsoever, think that whatever corny crap they're doing on the couch while watching Dancing with the Stars is of the utmost importance.

SMH!

Twitter is evil. Evil, evil. No one cares that you're is stopped up on the pot. No one cares that you just left the vet and Muffy is sore from her vaccines. No one cares that you just got a haircut. And most of all, not one person cares that you're on Twitter!! Oh, and while we're talking about being on Twitter, follow me!

Girl, U So Free-Spirited!!

I thought the freedom of not having a job would be fun. It's not. I am getting desperate, panicky, and thinking about tricking myself out at Bone Daddy's or Twin Peaks. I haven't slept in weeks and I get irritated when my gainfully employed pals can't join me for a walk around the mall at 1:30 in the afternoon or for a late lunch at 2:15. Or, better yet, when they can't stay up past 10:45p.m. because they have to be up at six to be on time for work at nine!

Blasphemy, I say!

Not having a job has its perks. I don't have to worry about asking off in order to do hoodrat stuff with my friends; I can wake up when I feel like it; and I can come and go when I please! You know, now that I think about it, this lavish life (I mean, minus the inflow of cash) sounds a lot like freelancing. Maybe I need to take that up!

BAAALLLLSSSS DEEEEPP!!

I'm gonna stop being lazy! I'm 'bout to get BALLLLSSSSS DEEEEEEP up in this blog!

Made in His Image: Richard Simmons

For some reason, Christians and heathens alike want to know how Jesus Christ looked. Was he white, black, or God-forbid, for some people, middle-eastern? Was he chubby, skinny, or beefy? Was he black like Wesley Snipes? Well, I think I’ve got a pretty good description for you of how Christ's swagger might have been all those years ago. And I gather he closely resembled motivator to the chunky, none other than Richard Simmons!

Don’t try to poke holes in this well-crafted theory by angrily saying that I’m blaspheming God in human form. But, if you want to get technical, think about the Biblical description. Hair like lamb’s wool? Check. Feet like brass? Check ('cause Richard’s got a tan like nobody's business). Voice like many waters? Well, not that one, but, you know his squealy voice when you hear it! Those are only the physical characteristics. And, for the convenience of you naysayers, I’ve hastily created a crude little features and technical specifications comparison chart. Take a sip of the living waters:

Revelations also mentions a little gem I discovered--that Jesus has his name on his thigh. How do we know this? Because the Bible tells us so! I don’t know if this tattoo is revealed via a flowing white robe or red striped short shorts, but either way it goes, J.C.’s showing a little leg.

Jesus has the desire to motivate us to be in the best shape we can, he wants us to stay positive, and press toward the mark of the prize of the high calling. Sound like someone we know? Rev. 1: 17 notes, “And when I saw him, I fell at his feet as dead. And he laid his right hand upon me, saying unto me, Fear not;” If that doesn’t sound reminiscent of Sweatin’ to the Oldies, then I don’t know what is!
(Don’t believe me? See Rev 1:1-20 & Rev 19:16)

An Oldie, But a Goodie!

MACKIN' 101

Fellas, are you lonely? Not getting any play? Tired of stuck up chicks giving you the eye roll/"I-know-he-ain't-talking-to-me" combination at the let-out of the club? Well, here's the solution you've been waiting for: Mackin' 101!

Meet Krish, an expert in the field. After countless nights outside of parties and clubs, she has experienced it all: the "Pssts, hey shawtys," the awkwardly placed solicitations of wannabe potential suitors, the abrasive yells from young men riding on the passenger side of questionable vehicles, and, oh yes, even the frequent "Alright then, bitch!" when wannabe potentials are on the receiving end of rejection.

But wait! Being solution-oriented, Krish has formulated a fool-proof program to get young men out of striped, Faded Glory polos and into the arms of the young women they desire! After working exclusively with celebrities, Krish is now introducing her renowned program Mackin' 101 for home use! For just three easy payments of $29.99, you too can put the 'Cha' in Charming, put the 'Swa' in Sauve and most importantly, put the juice back in your swagger! But you must act now! This special offer won't last long! Be the first of your homeboys to mack with favorable results every time! Remember, for just three easy payments of $29.99, you can own Krish's fool-proof Mackin' 101! Act now!

Stay tuned after the break when Krish reveals secrets from the Mackin' 101 program!