Happy Birthday Kenny!

2010
03.12

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Friday Funk – DMX

2010
03.12

Many things are considered when deciding which song to choose for Friday Funk.

This week’s contenders were strong, I’m not gonna lie.  Fierce, old school, fun even, damn near cheery for crying out loud.

But I had to go with DMX.  ‘Coz there aren’t many categories where DMX isn’t a strong contender.  That and I figured if I kept this Friday Funk thing up long enough and didn’t feature him he was agonna kick my ass one day.

**nervous laugh**

Heh, seriously though, any video that starts off with mofos doing wheelies, then into stoppies, I’m down with.  All through it is motorcycles, motorcycles and more motorcycles.  And the kinda motorcycles I like the best.

Then it proceeds into half dressed hotties pumping iron.  And not your average, everyday, run of the mill, workout at 24-hour fitness after enjoying a skinny dolce latte either.  No, these are more like “I got these muscels keeping a mother off me in the joint” men.  They also glisten.  I am a fan of all things that glisten.

Okay, and I gotta say that I just love his boys in the background.  They’re so cute with the bromances!

*cowers, don’t hit me*

Lastly, dey got dem pits brah!  Puppies gnawing on bike tires.  I wanna snuggle dem sweeties.

[My apologies that the lyrics don't match the video, all I can find is the radio version]

Ruff Riders’ Anthem

Somethin’ new

Stop, drop, shut ‘em down open up shop Oh, no
That’s how Ruff Ryders roll

Niggaz wanna try(what), niggaz wanna lie(what)
Then niggaz wonder why(what), niggaz wanna die (what)
All I know is pain(what) All I feel is rain (what)
How can I maintain(what), with mad shit on my brain(what)
I resort to violence(what), my niggaz move in silence(what)
Like you don’t know what are style is (what)
New York niggaz the wildest(what)
My niggaz is wit’ it (what)
You want it? come and get it (what)
Took it then we split it (what)
You fuckin’ right we did it (what)
What the fuck you gonna do (what)
when we run up on you (what)
fuckin’ wit’ the wrong crew (what)
don’t know what we goin’ thru (what)
I’ma have ta show niggaz (what)
how easily we blow niggaz (what)
When you find out there’s somemore niggas (what)
that’s runnin with your niggaz (what)
Nothin’ we can’t handle (what)
break it up and dismantle (what)
light it up like a candle (what)
just cause I can’t stand you (what)
Put my shit on tapes(what)
like you bussin’ grapes (what)
Think you holdin weight? (what)
Then you haven’t met the Apes (what)

(Chorus 2x)

Is ya’ll niggaz crazy? (what)
I’ll buss you and be swazy (what)
Stop actin’ like a baby, (what)
mind your business lady (what)
Nosy people get it too(what), when you see me spit at you (what)
you know I’m tryin’ ta get rid of you (what)
Yeah I know it’s pitiful (what)
That’s how niggaz get down (what)
Watch why niggaz spit round (what)
Make ya’ll niggaz kiss ground (what)
just for talkin’ shit clown (what)
Oh you think it’s funny (what)
then you don’t know me money (what)
It’s about to get ugly (what)
fuck it dog I’m hungry (what)
I guess you know what that mean (what)
come up off that green (what)
Five niggaz or a fiend (what)
don’t make it a murder scene (what)
Give a dog a bone (what)
leave a dog alone (what)
let a dog roam and he’ll find his way home (what)
Home of the brave, my home is a cage(what)
and yo I’ma slave til’ my home is a grave (what)
I’m a pull capers, it’s all about the papers(what)
Bitches talkin’ paper, then how they wanna rape us (what)

(Chorus 2x)

Look what you done started (uh)
Asked for it, you got it (what)
had it, should have shot it (what)
Now your dearly departed (what)
Get at me dog, (what)
did I rip shit (what)
with this one here I flip shit (what)
Niggaz know when I kick shit (what)
it’s gonna be some slick shit (what)
What was that look for (what)
when I walked in the door(what)
Oh you thought you was raw (what)
BOOM! Not anymore! (what)
Cause now you on the floor (what)
wishin you never saw (what)
me walk through that door, with that 4 4 (what)
Now it’s time for bed (what)
Two more to the head(what), got the floor red (what)
Yeah that nigga’s dead (what)
Another unsolved mystery, (what)
It’s goin’ down in history (what)
Niggaz ain’t never did shit to me (what)
Bitch ass niggaz can’t get to me (what)
Gots to make the move, (what)
got a point to prove (what)
Got a make’em grove(what), got’em all like ooh (what)
So to the next time(what), you hear this nigga rhyme (what)
try to keep your mind(what), on gettin pussy and crime (what)

(GUNFIRE!)

TALK IS CHEAP MUTHAFUCKA!

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You grew up here.

2010
03.10

And he was right.

I made mention to my boss today that, “I been with you 5+ years, this aint my first rodeo.”

‘Coz that’s what people say in Houston and probably in all of this great, vast State of Texas.  This aint my first rodeo – or – Oh, he fucked that up good?  Musta been his first rodeo.

My boss stopped short, turned and looked me sternly in the face, “You grew up here.”

It wasn’t until later that I really thought about it but man-o-man, he was right.

When I first started in 2004, I had just turned 30 and was fighting it with all I had.

I was still young, I was still cool.

Suuuuuure I was.

On casual Fridays I wore tight ass (inappropriately so) kahki pants and Sha-Sha shoes with blue flames running up the sides.  I was more likely to have a helmet in my hand than a satchel.  Hair done to my waist.  Tattoos still fresh.  Ideals still firm.  Head still in the clouds.

Since then I’ve endured Hurricanes Katrina, Rita and Ike.  Moved from New Orleans to Houston.  Quit smoking.  Quit drinking (or at least on the level that we used to, fosho).  Take daily vitamins and fiber and worry about cholesterol and pressures.

I did grow up here.

I almost like it.

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The difference between PLOTTING a murder and PLANNING a murder is wafer thin.

2010
03.08

2009 was the worst year of my life.

There, I said it.

January Michael got a promotion.  You’d think that would be AWESOME, right?  You would be very, very wrong (at first, at least).  Reminded me real quick of the Michael I knew when he was in the Navy.  Angry.  Always.

February we came out of pocket for an unexpected $1400 repair.  Right after Christmas and two weeks of unpaid vacation.

March … we quit smoking.  And that’s all I gots to say about that.

April Michael had a small health scare regarding a pretty common condition but now my baby has to take a pill every-single-day for the rest of his life.  Want to reminded of your mortality – that right there will just about do it.

May I thought I was going to kill myself 15 different times I wanted a smoke so bad.  Or maybe Michael.  Or that summabitch asking for change at EVERY intersection between the apartment and the office.  Anyone really.  I’m not one to discriminate.

June and July I completely blacked out.  We had visitors which was a great distraction and boy, we needed it.  It still found us drinking wine in ginormous proportions to make us both NOT think about cigarettes and NOT think about work or traffic or all the other things that make people climb to the top of bell towers with a pump action shot gun.

Suffering rained down on us like bird shot.  And that was before the bike repair we couldn’t afford in June and then the bike repair we couldn’t afford in July.

August had us noticing the first real signs of weight gain from the smoking cessation.  So now I’m miserable, depressed, angry, broke AND fat.  That’s the just the icing on the cake now aint it?  Mmmmm, cake!

September we were horribly disappointed with our inability to purchase a house.  Credit and debt (some ours, some fraudulent – check your credit report frequently folks, trust me on this one).  How fucking worthless are we, right?  Well, at least that is what we told ourselves a million and one times.

October introduced us to the WORST FUCKING NEIGHBORS in the history of all neighbors.  Stomp, bang, boom.  Constantly.  No-no-no, I don’t know if you can really comprehend the hell that has been our daily fucking lives.  We have not had one night of uninterrupted sleep since they moved in.  NOT ONE.  SINCE OCTOBER!!

November had us dining alone for Thanksgiving.  Work, both his and mine, kept us down just like they say the “man” does.  It’s true, it really is kids – don’t get fooled.  The “man” will keep you down and he will take your very soul.  All for money.

December was the turning point.

I felt it approaching.

The upswing of our pendulum.  It is going to take the same amount of time to cycle back to the downward swing so I am jazzed  to take advantage of (and most certainly appreciate) all the positive things that I feel are going to happen in 2010.

I know I am being that kooky person who says shit like “it must be a full moon” or “the tides must be high” or some other such superstitious silliness but I felt it coming.

Good shit is right up the road.

Just around the corner.

And I can’t wait to feel its breeze on my face.

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Saturday Night Fever. Or is it Live? Either way ….

2010
03.06

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Friday Funk – Fiona Apple

2010
03.05

Somebody give this bitch a sammich please.

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Database has been updated.

2010
03.03

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Chatroulette

2010
03.02

Chatroulette is a project created by some smart ass teenager.  I first noticed it on popurls but didn’t bother to check it.  I then saw it on cnn so I had to check it.  ’Coz, I mean let’s be serious, if it’s on cnn you check it out.  Right?

Right.

You are presented with a screen that has a box for your webcam, a box for your partner’s webcam and chat log area.

Let me stop right here and say that I was perturbed by the whole “partner” thing immediately.  It just felt creepy.  Like super friendly greasy cousin kinda creepy.

The premise is you hook up with others who have entered the “roulette” of webcams.  You are connected with someone and you can chat and when you get bored you can “next” them.

Simple enough, no worries.

My first partner pretty much set the stage and standard.

A man waved politely with a generous smile, stood, undressed, turned showing me his bare ass and then gently spread the cheeks.

He presented his asshole to me.

Well hello to you too Chatroulette.  Good ta meetcha.

Now mostly it is just a bunch of guys wanking it and, as is usually the case, pretty much no tits at’all.

What I don’t get is how you gonna put that shit on cnn?  ’Coz between you and me, it’s porn.

Four out of five partners are participating in palm-furring practices.

Chatroulette is NotSafeForWork, NotSafeForHome, NotSafeForKidsUnder42, NotSafeForHumans.

Now, the reason it is going to be popular as hell for awhile is that one in a million.

Like the time I “next”ed over to an image of two keyboards (musical), one on either side of their feet (yes, I know, gag) and they played the most beautiful song, one portion on each keyboard.  It sounded like spring rain.  She was from Italy.

I liked that one.

Then there was the kid who when I asked his age said, “oh I’m legal, I’m 18, OLE MISS baby,” while lifting his t-shirt showing another t-shirt proving his OLE MISS affiliation.  He was the cutest, most innocent thing I had ever seen.  I told him to be careful before I “next”ed him.

I’m a “next”er.  I “next” just about everyone within 3 seconds.

Snap, quick decisions are the way to go with Chatroulette.  Follow your gut instincts.

Or you’ll end up looking at some dude’s johnson and this is not Hollywood people, this is real life.  Not as pretty a picture as you might want to believe.

Block this from your computers at once.

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Friday Funk – Dido

2010
02.26

Here With Me

I didn’t hear you leave
I wonder how am I still here
And I don’t want to move a thing
It might change my memory

[Chorus:]
Oh I am what I am
I’ll do what I want
But I can’t hide
I won’t go
I won’t sleep
I can’t breathe
Until you’re resting here with me
I won’t leave
I can’t hide
I cannot be
Until you’re resting here with me

I don’t want to call my friends
They might wake me from this dream
And I can’t leave this bed
Risk forgetting all that’s been

[Chorus]

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Build-a-BOOYAH, I mean book boyfriend.

2010
02.23

I was tagged by Patti at Book Addict, who was tagged by Lea at Closetwriter, who was tagged by Ms.M at Moonlight to Twilight before her.

Those Gutter Girls started it with “we all have our favorite book boyfriends and now you have the chance to create one just for yourself and your fantasies!” How do you play? Fill out the quiz bellow, post a picture of sexy man and tag five (5) other book addicts to do the same. Don’t forget to pop to their blogs and let them know they have been tagged! Once tagged… you have do do the same, grab the button, answer the questions, and keep it rolling! But don’t forget the picture of your BOOYAH.

1- Hair color and style

Color/ Black.

Style/Morrissey.


The original Robert Pattinson.

Both of ‘em look like milk in a sausage sleeve.

Am I right or am I right?

2- Eye color and facial features

Black eyes, black lashes.  Brow dark from shadow and fester.

Black eye from not taking no shit off’n nobody.

3- Height and body type

6′3″ minimum.  Lean.  Swimmer’s body.  Smooth skin free of blemish, free of hair.

4- Visible age

28.

Old enough to not get blackout drunk on a Tuesday.  Young enough to not hyperventilate nor need medical attention after a romp in the hypothetical hay.  Old enough to not live with his parents.  Young enough to call in sick – from the bar – at 4:30am – and not give a shit about the repercussions.

5- Bangability ie: kinky/bi/size

He IS kinky/

He IS bi/

[for the sack of the children, the deacon father-in-law and the family as a whole, I'll refrain from posting the pic I would LOVE to for fear of freaking them all right the fuck out]

His size IS/

6- Human or other

I know it is very cliche, very right now, very trendy but if he is to be my BOOYAH fantasy book boyfriend, then he is vampire.  He walks with the starlit breeze and his fangs would slip into my flesh like warm butter.

7- Paranormal skills

He’d be my Jasper (Twilight).

He would feel my frustration, my impatience, my short-temperedness (which is, let’s be frank, all the time).  He would IMMEDIATELY reach out to me.  Petting and cooing me into a total and utter state of relaxation, one that even Somas cannot produce.

8- Interests

I want to see nothing but the back of dusty jeans on weekends.  Thick neck shoved under the hood of a muscle car.  POLISHING the valve covers, SANDING the cam, GREASING the shaft.  Nothing but NOS, 4-barreled carbs and five-point restraints.

9- Habitat

A lair?  Haha – I just had to say it!!!

In all seriousness, I don’t handle cold well.  It would need to be someplace where the temperature never drops below 65°.  Ever.

10- Special skills

*see soda can*

I tag:

1- …

2- …

3- …

4- …

5- …

Hmmm, seems I got a pretty sad list there.

Unlike Book Addict Patti and the others who have participated in this endeavor, I have no adoring fans and people, as a whole, just plain ol’ don’t like me so I guess the buck kinda does stop here.

But man-o-man what a ride!!

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