Oops, My Bad! Should I Write Them a Note?

That is in my Cher from Clueless voice, just to let you know!

Isn't it funny when you say sorry to someone and they're saying sorry back to you, but the two of you are sincerely apologizing for two different reasons? I digress, however, and I know this sounds confusing; let me give an example.

Picture a new couple on a dinner date at home. Boyfriend and Girlfriend are sitting having a great evening despite nervousness & jitters until all of a sudden, Boyfriend leans over and throws up on the beige dining room carpet. Boyfriend is embarrassed and between dry heaves yells out, "Sorry! I got sick! "
Girlfriend, on the other hand, is less concerned about the vomit and while hunting for carpet cleaner and a steamer yells out "Sorry! I undercooked the chicken, so you might have food poisoning!"

So there, you have it; mutual "sorries" for two different reasons. I say that to say this: I had that happen to me the other day and I felt like I wanted to talk about it!

Hey, I do what I want!

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!

Damn Canadians!

I swear, some days I feel like I live in Canada. I relocated to DFW area, and I'm temporarily setting up shop in Plano. Why does it take me 20 mins to get to far north Dallas? No, that's not a rhetorical questions. I don't know; you tell me. That's why I asked. It takes me like 35-40 mins just to go do hoodrat stuff with my friends. That's a no go for me, as I need my hoodrattedness to be close by, preferably within walking distance. And, yes, I know this is neither funny nor well thought out, but this is my blog & I do what I want!

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!

You Haven't Felt Pain Til You've Had Hair Ripped From Your &#$$^ !!

Elvita is a very nice woman. She, my coochie & I have a special relationship. It's because she was kind, caring at a time when I was spread eagle on her table. But that was the end of her sweet spirit.

That lady pasted, rubbed and ripped like there was no tomorrow, and in her broken English, told me that I was to blame for my pain & suffering! Shame on her! Okay, so maybe some of my coochie sadness was my fault because I, as a result of my laziness, was going for the "Bohemian" look. She didn't have to call me out though. I don't care if it was only her and me in the room together.

Ladies, please stay on top of your grooming. Don't get lazy like me; let this be a warning!

That is all.