Booty Jams Continued...

I'm known for my bad luck and love of 90's Hip Hop and R&B. I figured it was time I write about the former and share my favorites of the latter.

Let’s get (meta) physical.

http://youtu.be/eJunijzmjks

‘Otha Fish,’ indeed. Can’t catch a break (excuse the pun) and am completely unfazed. I am chronically unsuccessful in all matters romantic, recently unemployed (top getting fired after four weeks, I dare you) and unable to afford taking classes this semester. Bright side? Well, if it’s being broke, lonely and lacking in a college degree, I’d say the bright side has already been reached! No? I guess being forced to Tabula Rasa the shit out of my life and start from scratch yet again can be considered a bright side. I have the freedom to entertain a variation of options now and the time to seek them out. Making good use of said time will be the difficult part, given that I have four seasons of Charmed on dvd. Curse those scantily clad witch sisters for putting me under their supernatural nineties spell. What else am I supposed to watch? I’ve already seen every season of Buffy too many times to count and now rely on weird, outdated ’90s sayings, horribly awesome fashions and random references to bands like Dishwalla as sustenance. I’d say I can only go up from here, but there’s always getting knocked up, hooked on hard drugs, turning tricks…or being alone for the rest of my life…or not being able to afford my rent…or never finishing college. Fuck. 

Yeah, that’s my attitude.

Rode ‘my’ bike to class today and taking advantage of the weather, I cruised at a leisurely pace. I kept cool courtesy of a flirtatious breeze and for once since school started, I thought I’d finally gotten a reprieve. For once I wouldn’t show up to school saturated in sweat and mild to severe embarrassment. I thought wrong. Apparently using a U-lock is nothing like riding a bike, you don’t just ‘hop back on’ after not using it for awhile. It took me almost FIVE minutes to figure the goddamn thing out. I couldn’t figure out which part of the lock went into which hole for the life of me. Five minutes doesn’t sound like a long time, but when the sun is beating the shit of you and your paranoia that everyone is staring at you starts giving you hot flashes, five minutes starts to feel like fucking eternity. Reminiscent of Clark Griswold’s final attempt at connecting the power cords to the outdoor Christmas lights (and if you don’t get this reference you’re an idiot,) I slammed the U-lock together and it finally clicked into place. So, as usual, I showed up to class panting, pissed off and with more sweat on my upper lip than a short order cook. You know there’s no hope for you when days like these don’t seem to let up and stop giving a shit. After class, I rode to Nick’s Deli, got a sub and a Ginger Ale and decompressed in the basement computer lab at Hibbs. I discovered the refreshingly cool climate of the underground very early on into my meccas to campus by foot. Speaking of the figurative eternally black cloud that hovers over me, it looks like rain. If I have to ride back from class in a monsoon, I will punch the weather square in the mouth.

And now, for your listening pleasure, I give you Trina. Youtube won’t let me embed all of the videos, so you will just have to click on the links. You won’t be disappointed: 

http://youtu.be/vw7ukmZVQHg

http://youtu.be/ABZDZY5aCLY

http://youtu.be/grmJsiGf5Bk

One of the most underrated songs/videos by Ciara. Many of my evenings are dedicated to watching her booty work and trying to see if my white girl ass cheeks will move freely from one another like hers do. I think it may be impossible for me to achieve such an ambitious goal, but I will persevere.

Side note: my brother came to town to see Primus and is staying on my couch. Faced with such generosity, you would think he would behave. Apparently his version of ‘behaving’ is to come home at 3AM  with a girl he surely picked up from Hot Topic. I think she was even wearing those colored rubber band bracelets that were cool, circa Warped Tour 2002. Now I can’t go into the kitchen and reheat my Velveeta Mac n Cheese leftovers. Sounds gross and is gross, but when you lose your credit card, don’t have a ride to the bank and can only pay for things in quarters, you have to suck it up and buy the cheap shit. I’m hungry

Also:

So this weekend was the Gay Pride Festival and let me tell you, those gays love to party. My weekend started at Bellytimber, ended at Babes and claimed many things that were dear to my heart, i.e. my credit card, five dollars, a toenail (seriously,) two of my favorite lip balms, most of my dignity and my ability to walk for almost a day. I’m pretty sure I burned off more calories dropping it low than I actually consumed, which means I can justify not going to the gym for a few days…or weeks. My brother is in town for Primus, to which he offered me a free ticket. I politely declined. Entertaining him all day will be a full time job, so I will let Tweet entertain you while I’m gone.