What it is ho; wassup?
Now, y’all know that I’m ready, willing and able to keep the “Some Cut” references going—btw, shouts to Kenny for getting it stuck in my head all weekend—but I’m bored and can’t be bothered at the moment. Although the thought of twisting Trillville’s lyrics and talking about a different kind of “cutting” excites me for some strange and most likely sick reason. I hadn’t even intended to write an introduction to this one, so let’s get into it, shall we?
I think that there’s only one thing in this world that I hate more than (actual) people and y’all know how much I despise, detest, dislike, loathe and generally can’t stand people. My hatred (no, not really) for them is deeper than rap. It goes beyond Gucci Mane’s beef with Carmex and even further than the feud with common sense and originality that all the Barbie’s in Nicki Minaj’s dream house have bee locked in ever since Scotty beamed ‘em up.
I hate the winter. More specifically; everything that comes with it. Snow; ice; the general cold; the niggas that are on the hunt since this is cuffin’ season; shoveling and putting down salt; etc. etc.; ad nauseum and blah de frickin’ blah.
This is terrible, absolutely appalling. I can’t motivate myself to keep writing in the same vein. I was planning on doing a hilarious in my own mind diatribe about my utter loathing of the winter and most things snow related by resurrecting my foxy and whole lotta woman wintertime alter ego Caramel Macchiato, the baddest motha—shut yo’ mouth—that Lansing and the surrounding areas have ever seen. However, my mind isn’t letting me write, direct, produce, score and star in my own blaxploitation flick right now so that’ll have to wait.
I’ve been slackin’ wit’ the postage for about a week now and I don’t wanna give some of you the satisfaction of an under 500 word post by me, so, here we go with some random ish that I want to know:
1) How do you twice remove a family member and how do I nominate members of my family for singular removal?
2) If you give a mouse a cookie, what right does that same mouse have to ask you for a glass of milk? Does it not realize that it is indeed a mouse and siccing a cat on it would put an immediate end to any and all dairy cravings that this particular rodent may have? The same goes for a pig with a pancake. Look here my little porcine friend, I could very easily have your presence ended and your carcass smoked over a nice Hickory wood fire. The only creatures that could get what they want in regards to food would be a Moose with a muffin and a Bear with a brownie based solely on the fact that they are indeed a Moose and a Bear.
3) Ethical treatment of animals? Uh…by who’s code of ethics are we treating Bessie the cow and friends because it most certainly isn’t Ren’s.
4) If my grandma and your grandma are sitting by the fire, where are we and why are we singing a song about it?
5) Daylight broke. The tallyman came to tally his bananas. Did Harry Belafonte ever go home?
Twelve days down, three hundred and fifty three to go.