Tuesday, February 23, 2010

I’m Out of My Mind. Come and Chase Me?

If you shouldn’t run with scissors, you definitely shouldn’t run with Hedge Clippers…

Well. This is about as awkward as any one of Sarah Palin’s speeches. I’ve been tryin’ to come up with something relevant, irreverent and sufficiently sarcastic to open this post with, but I’m drawing a ridiculously large blank as I copy these words from my mini Top Flight legal pad.
Now, y’all should know me by now. I am the reigning Queen of Sarcasm, able to serve subtle if I so choose shade with the best of them because I am the best of them. Yet here I am. Wielding my mechanical pencil as my scepter, trying to command the words to come forth and do my queenly bidding. However; mine subjects are proving to be disloyal as they continue to revolt. The only thing I’m gettin’ is a royal headache.
So, if we count that as my introduction, where should I begin? Hmm…
*thinks it over*
Ah. I guess I should get the stupid girly shxt out the way so I don’t have time to think about it as I continue writing this post. Cuz see, if I do that, y’all might sit back and be like
”Damn man. Ren’s gone soft because she’s in love. Where’s the sarcasm? The rudeness? The cuss words with “x” in place of the vowel that would make the word complete?”

1) I may be head over heels, my heart beats faster when He says my name, the reason behind Him calling me Lala makes me smile my “Asian”—(^_^)—smile but
2) I’ll have you know that I have not gone completely soft because
3) I’ll still x out my vowels and cuss yo’ ass out. It’s nothin’ to me.

All that aside though, I really miss Him. I haven’t talked to Q since V-day and I can’t get in touch with Him and I just…
FaceBook is on some other shxt I tell you. Yes, I did indeed just change the subject without a witty, random or sarcastic segue. Is that a problem for you? Anyway, back to the Book of Face.
I was trying to change my name to Egypt Sean Cotton because it makes me smile, but every time that I tried to do it, I would get hit with this message. Discouraged, I looked at my list of friends and, annoyed, I wrote the following status

and received the following comments

of course that bullshxt worked smh

*looks at clock*
Yeah…I’m bored with this. I’m about to go reread Percy Jackson and The Olympians book four: The Battle of The Labyrinth, write another blog, wait for a phone call that’s not going to come because I’m lame like that and…who knows what else. I’m gone.
For now.

Friday, February 19, 2010

Wholeheartedly I’ma Go Where I Be

I’d be a liar if I told you that I didn’t have a lot to say right now, but guess what everyone? I’m not in a good mood at the moment. Which is, y’know, nothing new, but go with me anyway. You see, I’m not the cause of my annoyance, not this time. It’s a combination of a lot of things. For example

♥ The stupidity and assumptions of people are really starting to piss me off
♥ The Parental Unit is currently receiving rave reviews for her role as Power Hungry Dictator in the ongoing production of The (Infamous) Life: The LauRen/Ren/Elle Carter Story
♥ My retainer is reminding me of why I haven’t worn this piece of shxt for five months as it irritates my gums
Percy Jackson and The Olympians: The Lighting Thief was a terrible movie that ruined one of my favorite book series and Greek Mythology. What I’m about to say will mean absolutely nothing to you if you’re not up on ancient Greek lore, but the story took place in the summer time. When Percy, Annabeth and Grover went to The Underworld, that bxtch Persephone wasn’t supposed to be there. That was just one cause of annoyance because that whole movie was just…ugh.
♥ I fell off of my roof—don’t say shxt, I’m warning you
♥ The Sperm Donor is scheduled to pick The Sibling and I up in the morning so he can ease his conscience by playing part-time dad and
♥my mp3 player is dying and I can’t find the cord to charge it

Expounding on any and/or all of the above would result in a rant the likes of which the blogosphere has never seen. Y’all don’t want that. More specifically, your eyes don’t want that and jeepers creepers, I don’t wanna be the cause of your peepers handing you a pink slip that says “Bxtch, boo, bye: we quit”.
Outside of earlier, I haven’t been able to update the blog in a while due to someone someone *side-eye to the parental as she lays on the couch reading my copy of PJATO: The Battle of The Labyrinth*  trying to control my access to the computer. On top of that, a certain company *side eye to those fxcktards at Dell* has been bullin’ in regards to the fixage of my laptop. I’ve had to conduct the majority of my Internet browsing via my Wii. Now, as awesome as it is to surf the web from the comfort of my couch, that shxt sux.
I can log onto Blogger but I can’t blog, the same goes for my blog on OnSugar. I’m not too sure about typing one up as a note on FaceBook, but I’m not about to chance it.
I can’t blog but I can order a pizza from Dominos. What kind of shxt is that?
*rolls eyes*
I feel as though I’m goin’ crazy…er with all the stupid shxt that’s goin’ on right now and to be honest, the only thing that’s keepin’ me sane is thinkin’ about the conversation I had on Valentine’s Day with Him. Made me realize just how much I miss it. Talking to Q for hours, hearing his voice…I just missed Him.
He gave me some really…what’s an adjective worthy of this situation? Good doesn’t cut it. Hmm. Q told me something astounding, amazing, remarkable, fantastic, sensational and effing great that night, and I’m really looking forward to it, even though I know that I shouldn’t be. What he said is enough to make me smile randomly throughout the day and thinking about it now has me with the “Asian” smile (^_^) on my face. The last few times that I brought something like this up in one of my blogs I jinxed it and it didn’t happen and after almost two years, it’s finally time to make it happen. So…here’s to hope.
Anyway, I’m about to kickback, work on this deadline of mine, watch Criminal Minds, eat a few of the sugar cookies I baked earlier and just chill, but before I do, let me hit ya with my Tracks of The Day.

First up, my industry husband in my head Johnta Austin's demo of
"One Time for Love”
which was recorded by Ginuwine and put on his last album, the name of which escapes me as I didn’t buy or download that shxt. This track has an unfinished third verse that is on the Ginuwine version of the song, but with the slowed down tempo of the demo and Johnta’s voice, you can actually feel the song. Ginuwine’s version has more of a beat that you’d hear in a club, something that you’d dance to. Johnta’s demo is more of a song that you’d play in the bedroom, foreplay music if you will.

Next up, we’re switching gears with LA’s
I Was Born With Headphones Attached to My Earlobes”
I’d throw up a more info link for LA, but the thing is, his name isn’t really Google friendly as I’m sure you guessed. *sigh* That’s too bad, son is nice. However, I can do this and let you listen to the MC from the Chi.

Last but most certainly not least, we have The Five One’s
Waiting For”
I wouldn’t even know where to begin, what can I say about the COLORS? Their music bends, blends and breaks genres and…hell, just listen.

Oh, for the record…BLUE is my fav COLOR (=

The last two tracks are included on the iLLVibes Presents: Music I Wish Was on the Radio Vol. 1 mixtape presented by the crew from IV. Deffy somethin’ you should add to your collection.

Now, time for those cookies…
I’m out.

The Gift That Keeps on Giving

I was recently informed of some triflin’ ho shxt and I feel as though it’s my duty to share it with those who stumble across my blog and read my notes on FaceBook, especially those who live here in Lansing.
Apparently, there’s a guy on the eastside of the capital city that’s infecting hoodrats and ho’s alike with the herpes simplex virus. Now, I don’t know who he is, but I have it on good authority that there is in fact someone spreading the disease from females to female. These females are in turn spreading it to Patient Zero’s friends when they have sexual contact after the fact and they in turn give the disease to their unsuspecting significant others and so on and so forth.
I don’t know what other diseases are being spread among my peers and I’m gonna keep my thoughts about triflin’ ho shxt to myself but I will say this:
If you choose to be sexually active, be safe.
Fellas, put a condom on it. Ladies, make sure he does. Don't rely on your partner for protection, carry your own. Like I said

and at $6-$10 a pill, Valtrex doesn’t come cheap.

Be safe out there y’all.

Friday, February 12, 2010

Mazel Tov; It’s a Celebration. Bxtches.

Meter maids are a bunch of bitter people who delight in taking their obvious aggressions out on people who made the unfortunate mistake of not putting an extra dime in the meter. They’re about as evil as anesthesiologists and according to the karma scale that I just made up, their next life will be that of a hissing cockroach. Just thought I’d put that out there. Y’know, in case you ever wondered.
Anyway…it’s my bloggiversary!
That’s right my friends, enemies and hybrids of the two, it’s been exactly one year since The (Infamous) Life was launched out of boredom. While it’s true that I haven’t always been consistent with my writing style and posting schedule, you can see that I haven’t completely abandoned my blog and let the weeds run wild here at LauRenxExCarter on BlogSpot Way. So, to commemorate my year of inconsistent posts, criminally sane in an insane type of way ramblings that are apt to occur and my dissection of fxckery, I’m doin’ somethin’ a little different. I’m letting LauRen and Ren speak individually and for themselves, which is to say, for myself.
Before you allow yourself to think that I’m crazy…er than what I’ve shown myself to be, calm down and just go wit’ me here.

The first thing you need to know is that I don’t appreciate the effin’ questions LauRen and I have received in regards to our little “arrangement”. Any other time someone kicks a concept that your puny little mind can’t comprehend you just smile, nod and subtly look at your watch, but no. Y’all wanna dig deeper and try to throw me in the box marked “DAMN, this bxtch is crazy. I’ll have you know that I’m perfectly sane and insinuating otherwise will get you kicked in the shin. Twice.
The second thing you need to know is that there is no Sasha Fierce shxt goin’ on, meaning that there’s no demonic possession going on *slight side eye* when I’m around. Yeah, I said it, your point? …Let me stop angering Beyonce: Yaki Princess’s stans and get back to the task at hand.
The main thing that you need to know is that I’m LauRen and LauRen is me. I’m the side of Elle (get it? The first letter of her name is “L” and when you spell it out…y’all are slow, eff it) that the majority of people meet, if only at first. Why? Because, I like to be difficult, it’s fun, beside that, I’m the judge and jury of this shxt.
Once you pass the Many Trials of Ren—which include but are not limited to verbal sparring matches and dodging sarcastic barbs masterfully thrown by yours truly—then you can get to know me on a deeper, much more personal level. Maybe. However, if you are judged and found wanting, your chances of getting to know Elle are slim to helldafxcknaw. I don’t have time for nonsense in the form of weakness so I weed it out early on. I don’t like people, y’all know that. It takes a lot to get close to me for a reason.
Ah. Put you off a bit have I? Well, to avoid frightening you further—even though the it would be pretty amusing to me. I’m sick like that (= –I’ll say this and hand it back over to LauRen meaning I get to talk some more:
I, boys and girls, am but a character playing my part in this grand ol’ play called Life. My role is that of “protector”. I’m the front that gets thrown up to push people away, think of me as the hard outer shell that needs to be cracked in order to reach the fluffy, nougaty center.

LauRen aka Elle
I promise you, I’m not crazy. Don’t assume that I suffer from some mild form of a dissociative identity disorder because of the things that I’ve said and will continue to say as Ren for as long as I see fit. As she—that is to say, I—stated above, I am Ren and Ren is me. She is a living and breathing person which is why I treat her as such. We are one. We share a heart that’s been broken and mended time and time again, a body and a singular mind. The only distinction between the two of us is that which I’ve created because I like to fxck with peoples minds and can admit it.
There are those that may say that Ren is a defense mechanism and they may be right. Or, they could be wrong as Sarah Palin running for any type of public office. Only I know the truth.
Or do I?

That was fun (^_^)
lol. Real talk though, I’m not crazy y’all, at least not to my standards of crazy. I’m a lot more sane than I act and that is what keeps me sane. Make sense? No? Yeah, I didn’t think so. Don’t try to understand me, it’ll save you a lot of brain cells and time that you can’t afford to waste. Now, let me throw up this track of the day and be out. I’ve got a scarf to finish crocheting. “Infamous”? No, not remotely, but this is how I spend my nights when I’m not plotting the destruction of Dell with a half empty bottle of water, a purple pen and a AA battery.
Here’s to another year.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Wii Are Not the Same

What it is, what it look like and the rest of those good ol'
stereotypical greetings I'm so fond of using? How be all of thee on
this cold for absolutely no reason other than it's an effing Tuesday
in February morning? Really now? Is that so? Well...whooptie doo and
hand-claps for you.
As for me, myself, LauRen, Elle and Ren--don't ask; I won't tell--a
good mood can't be found this morning. I'm sick. This would be the
part that if I were able to use my laptop or any other normal computer
I'd boldly italicize my text, change the color to hot pink and write
"really"--with all of the former text embellishing--sick. But I can't
do that right now. Partially because I'm really sick minus the text
embellishment but due mostly to the fact that I'm typing this post in
my Gmail and sending it to Blogger on my Wii from the comfort of
my living room. Yay for technology.
I've been sick since Sunday afternoon and actually slept through the
frickin' Super Bowl which, despite the fact that I'm no major Colts or
Saints fan, wasn't my intention. I apparently missed out on a hell of
a game which I had saved to my DirecTV DVR but The Parental Unit
decided to delete it for whatever reason. Bleh.
Speaking of Sunday, the Super Bowl and me being sick, I didn't get the
chance to type and publish the post I had written. Now is as good a
time as any to do so I suppose.

Black and Gold Bottles Like I'm Pro, New Orleans

But shawty I'm far from a Saint...

What it is, what it be like and what it do y'all? How art thou on this
Super Bowl Sunday? I'm sure that by now you've placed your bets on
your respective teams victory by now and are no doubt thinking up fun
and creative ways to blow your winnings when the Colts beat the
Oh. You thought that I was a Saints fan based on the title? Did you
not peep my italicized, 8pt, hot pink subtitle? I am FAR from a Saint
and before you get it twisted, I'm not some little filly trotting
after the Colts either. Nope. Football is another one of those things
that this "Pretty Girl" doesn't really give a four letter word that
starts with eff and ends with a youseekay [three letters; one word]
about. I'm more of a college sports fan to tell you the truth. Beside
that, I won't genuinely be interested in the Super Bowl until the
Lions--yes, THE Lions; THOSE Lions--manage to make it. Not cuz I plan
to root for the home team but because...
Nah, not even gonna do it.
I had planned to insinuate that it would be a sign of the Apocalypse,
but after last time with Karma-Karma-Karma-Karma-Karma Kameleon (she
comes and goes) I didn't think that it would be such a great idea.
Despite what you may wish to believe, I'm rather concerned about my
soul, thank thee kindly. Hmph.
Anyway, The (Infamous) One Elle Carter is currently in youth church,
half listening to the lesson and half thinking about the chorus line
of people that are currently doing the Can-Can, Heel Toe, Harlem Shake
and the COGIC Shuffle on the very last of my good nerves.
Once more, people are coming at me six different types of reckless
because they wish to believe that everything I say and do is a
personal attack on them. It's not. For one, I honestly don't care one
way or the other but for two, I don't have the time for the
subterfuge. Sorry to burst your ever increasing bubbles people, but it
is what it is and that's  what it be. I apologize for the fact that
you thought the things that I say were subliminals aimed at you, twas
not the case, let me assure you. You see, had I wished to embarrass
any of you, I would've called you out and done so. But as I didn't, my
intentions weren't to offend.
Just wanted to put it out there and let it be known. I don't have the
patience to be bothered with this foolishness much longer.
Now, if you'll excuse me, Boogie just told the class that I threw her
into a wall and I need to set the record straight.

Ugh. I'm stil not feeling well =(
Before I forget, my one year blogiversary (it's a word now, shut up)
is coming up on Friday and I've got absolutely nothing planned. I
can't shoot a video without my laptop and since that piece of shxt is
dead and those bastardtardmonkeytards at Dell are still being
buttheads when it comes to getting my ish fixed, I won't be able to
shoot for a while. I'm trying to think up a post but so far I've got
nothing so we shall see what I can come up with by Friday. While I
think up a master plan or at the very least an acceptable blog post,
I'm gonna recline in this here chair and pray that the room stops

Note: the room is still spinning but I decided to come over here to the desktop and embellish my text anyway. Now I feel really sick

Saturday, February 6, 2010

“O Frabjous Day. Callooh. Callay.”

No matter where the eff I go and no matter what the hell I’m doin’, I can’t seem to escape Owl City and their hypnotic irkfest of a song “Fireflies”. I’ve heard the song so much in the past week that I almost believe that the earth turns slowly. Which it doesn’t FYI. I can’t remember off the top of the dome but I’m pretty confident in the fact that we orbit around the sun at about 1,000 miles per hour. Not slow at all. Fxckfaces.
And am I the only one that’s listened to the lyrics of that song cuz I mean really. It’s about as nonsensical as as Lewis Carroll’s “Jabberwocky” and almost as bad as LFO’s Summer Girls”. But twas not brillig and the slivey toves this time around folks and there was no gyring and gimbling in the wabe although those Summer Girls—y’know, the ones that wear Abercrombie and Fitch and have been gone since that summer, that summer—made the mome raths outgrabe. Nope. This time it’s butterflies, disillusion, sock hops and a whole bunch of random ish. A friend of mine (okay, it was me) was joking around and said that this song is probably some brainwashing, programming type shxt from the (insert gasp…here) Illuminati. The good people at The Vigilant Citizen may wish to investigate.
[*baby side-eye*]
Anyway, rant aside, ya girl is not in a good gotdang mood right now.
I’m sitting in the backseat of the car while The Sibling is in my effing seat putting footprints on the windshield and singing recklessly, horribly off-key and inching closer and closer to getting choked out by me as we wait for The Egg Donor to get out of Kroger. Add that to the fact that I just got done spending time with The Sperm Donor very much against my will earlier, it’s east to see why I’m enjoying the vision of me stuffing the smelly socks that she threw at me down Boogie’s throat.
The Egg Donor thinks that at 20 she can control my life and The Sperm Donor decided that…hell, I don’t know. I just know that he’s been making more and more frequent appearances in mine (infamous) life and I don’t have the time. I’m past the age where he can influence my life with his fatherly advice and concern. Don’t need it. Don’t want it. When I did want it, I didn’t get it. He was too busy playing house with that big bodied broad backed bxtch (extra points for an alliterative insult) El Jefe to attend to his two youngest children. So now that he’s been kicked out the house or whatever the hell happened between them since he hasn’t told us and I had to find out the news from my brother (who’s deployed overseas at the moment might I add) he decides it’s time to remember us. But he couldn’t when he missed my high school graduation. And my open house.
Oh. Yeah, I’ve got daddy issues.
Speaking of daddy—not that I ever called this nigga ‘daddy’…*cough*—issues, TSD showed up and interrupted the booluvin’ conversation I was havin’ with Q.
Y’all don’t know how much I missed Him! When I heard His voice on the line I automatically smiled as that stupid girly side of me came out and I got shy as I said my hello’s. That loser’s voice just makes me…ugh. I smile when I hear it and have been known to babble like an idiot if he says the right thing and he’s quite fond of saying the right thing. The twenty or so minutes that we spent on the phone was not enough time to talk and I’m hoping that I’ll be able to talk to him again before he heads back out.
*rolls eyes*
Anyway, The Egg Donor is back and she drives like a bat fresh out of hell, so tracks of the day animout.
First up is “Daydreamin’” by Lupe Fiasco and Jill Scott

”Stop Fuckin’ Wit’ Me” by Lil John and The Eastside Boys since TED is runnin’ off at the mouth about absolutely nothing right now and I have to actually listen to her shxt since I left my mp3 player at home

And since I’m thinkin’ about Him
”The Reason” by Hoobastank

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Just So You Know; You’ll Never Know

Happy Birthday Auntie Ria and Leema Bean!

The blogger formally (and currently) known as Ren is not in a good gotdang mood right now.
Saturday night or Sunday morning, the space bar on my laptop broke and I was forced to resort to this to perform basic typing tasks on my my personal computer.  Earlier today, the charger to said laptop said “bxtch, I quit you” and committed suicide before my very eyes.
It’s not that I’m mad that my laptop decided to hand me a figurative pink slip even though that puts a serious cramp in my plans. Nope. I have a three year warranty on that piece of shxt . What’s making me grind my teeth as I sit here at the family’s desktop computer is the fact that I’ll have to deal with these fxckfacedbastardtardmonkeynutswallowers (one word) at Dell. The last time I was on the phone with them it was for three hours, got bounced from one non-english speaking operator to the next and at the end of the call, my problem didn’t get resolved. Then today, I was told that they were closed and subsequently hung up on. Ugh. Fxckers.
Bet this shxt wouldn’t happen if I had a Mac.
Anyway, I’m irked as all hell right now so I’m not even going to jump through the usual hoops or ring or blow the bells and whistles. Don’t have time. I’m too busy plotting the destruction of Dell. So, get into it and peep the screen shots that I’ll be providing below.

Extreme Boredom

Shut up. As I said, I was bored.  

plus Karma Kameleon

Equals this
we are funny as shxt and I don't care what anyone has to say. That is all.

I’ll be back with the story behind the whole BlackPlanet thing at a later date. I’m about to call Dell customer service again. Wish me luck.