Friday, December 09, 2005

Peppermint Patty Wasn't Ugly, She Was Just A Tranny. Though Later In Life She Became Friends With RuPaul And Turned Into A Hot Babe.

Interesting tid-bits (is this a hyphenated word? so confused) from this week which are actually not interesting at all but which I do DISTINCTLY feel the need to share with you, the internet, the reader extraordinaire and you too Mr. Dandanthecancanman. And no, I am not actually acquainted with a Mr. Dandanthecancanman but WOULDN'T IT BE COOL IF I WAS.

#5 I got shanghaied into participating in the office bake-off, a scary event in which the office women go home the night before and whip up something truly tantalizing in their super-sanitized kitchens so that we may pay two dollars the next day to sample their foodalicious delights and hopefully, CROSS YOUR FINGERS NOW, MADGE, actually get the yearly trophy for the best darn tootin baked goods ever made in these here parts. There are two categories: Appetizer and Dessert. Because everyone always wants to show what they can do with the sugar and the flour, I got shoved in the appetizer group. Which is fine with me as I'd prefer to eat the appetizer foods anyway. One can only sample so many pieces of cake before keeling over in a sugar coma. But appetizers? Well shit Billy Bob, you can eat them there 'tizers till yer gut done poked over your elastic waist khakis. NO SUGAR COMA NEEDED.

So I went straight to the grocery from work and spent $45 on cream cheese, spinach, artichokes, dill, green onions, tomatoes and crescent rolls. I BOUGHT 80 CRESCENT ROLLS. 10 packages x 8 in each package = 80 FUCKING CRESCENT ROLLS THAT I THEN HAD TO *STUFF* YES, *STUFF* WITH THE CHEESY SPINACH ARTICHOKE GOOP.

I jest, of course. I totally enjoyed most of every minute it. Why, you ask? Because while every other woman is quite pleased to tell you how you can't tell the difference between the normal kind of cake and the kind of cake SHE made, the one with the fat-free cholesterol-free eggsinacarton, reduced fat Crisco, low sugar icing and dried fruit- I, without shame, bought the full-fat cream cheese, mozzarella cheese (I even had to scour the cheese aisle for the WHOLE MILK version of the mozzarella cheese) and the non-reduced-fat crescent rolls. The kind that taste like flaky butter. So I'm pleased to say that while you WON'T go into a sugar coma after eating my tasty appetizer YOU WILL die of an immediate heart attack. Because I had a brief but VERY influential convo with my ingredients wherein I explained the battle plan: ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK! Go for the arteries! Find new warm homes in corner valves! Clog them I say, CLOG THEM!

#4 My Christmas tree is now a broken stem of a tree. The Demon Spawn have successfully completed their mission to destroy my first-ever attempt at Decorating for the Holidays -not to be confused with DRESSING for the Holidays. As previously discussed, it is not appropriate to celebrate the seasons with one's CLOTHING. Merely decorative objects in the home, i.e. Christmas trees, wreaths with bows, jingle bells, etc. This decorating is not to extend to the front grilles of vehicles as it only draws attention to your dumb ass. And I work very, very hard at ignoring you fuckwads out there so I respectfully request that you NOT DELIBERATELY DRAW ATTENTION TO YOURSELF. But back to the Christmas tree. There is a nagging feeling at the back of my skull that indicates I should be slightly concerned that my Demon Spawn Cats ate, yes ATE, approximately 30 glass Christmas balls. But as they are Demon Spawn I'm sure they have regenerative stomachs.

#3 I used my power of positive thinking to wish for two days off work due to inclement weather. It did not work out for me. But we did get off work an hour early because it was "sleeting."

#2 I finally dragged my winter coat out of the closet after staunchly refusing to wear it for a month straight. When the overnight temperature hit 15 degrees, my poor defenseless body went on revolt and DEMANDED that I bring out the coat. So I acquiesced and pulled the wool heaviness from between the velvet pants, the polar fleece sweater and the collection of really ugly winter hats where it had been wedged for over 10 months-- only to find last year's lighter. I had a moment of reverie when I did, I admit, think quite fondly of The Smoking Days. And then I knocked on my neighbor's door and bequeathed her my favorite lighter. With much pomp and circumstance, naturally.

#1 While driving home from my SECOND trip to Wal-Mart in a 4 hour period (at 12:30 am, nonetheless- I'd run out of crescent rolls for today's bake-off and GOD FORBID I waste my spinach goop) there was a very special song that came on the radio. You see, it really spoke to me. Tugged on my heart strings, if you will. And so I leave you today with the lyrics to this deep and moving musical masterpiece:

I'm In Love With A Stripper, as sung by T-Pain:

[Intro]
Goddamn Lil Mama
U know u thick as hell u know what im sayin
Matter fact
After the club u know what im talkin bout
Me and my niggas gone be together u know what im sayin
I aint gon worry bout them really though
Im just lookin at u
Yea u know
U got them big ass hips god damn!

[Verse 1]
Got the body of a goddess
Got eyes with a peak of brown eyes see you girl
Droppin Low
She Comin Down from the ceiling
To tha floo
Yea She Know what she doin
Yea yea yea
She doin that right thang
Yea yea yea yea ea
I Need to get her over to my crib and do that night thang
Cause I'm in love with a stripper

[Chorus x2]
She poppin she rollin she rollin
She climbin that pole and
I'm in love with a stripper
She trippin she playin she playin
Im not goin nowhere girl im stayin
I'm in love with a stripper

[Verse 2]
Out of all the girls she be the hottest
Like n the way she break it down i see u girl
Spinnin wide
And She lookin at me
Right in my eyes
Yea She got my attention
yea yea yea
Enough to get me to mention
I Need to get her over to my crib and do that night thang
Cause I'm in love with a stripper

[Chorus x2]

[Verse 3]
She can pop it she can lock it
Take the pinderas down im bout to see this sexy girl
In My bed
She don't know what she is doin
To my head
Yea She turnin tricks on me
Yea Yea Yea
She dont even know me
Yea yea yea ea
I'd have got her over to my crib to do that night thing
Cause I'm in love with a stripper

[Chorus x4]

11 comments:

trueborn said...

And all this time I thought Marcey was the Tranny!
The nerve of Shultz to put that red herring there for all to see.

Chairborne Stranger said...

Tha'ts a very romantic song, Birdie LOL! Much like a christmas carol even.

birdie said...

i'm so glad someone else truly GOT the blatant emotionality of that song. i mean, what better way to tell a woman you love her? i've got to re-evaluate my taste in men cuz DAMN yo, i've never had no man bust up with that kind of diddy in my honor.

Shannin said...

your writing is hilarious and brilliant!... and, i too, find that song romantic...though, i was a stripper for many a year... ;O)

Chairborne Stranger said...

Oh, Birdie, you deserve a good man that will sing such sweet songs to you!

meghansdiscontent said...

Okay, Crack Monkey - what the hell were YOU doing listening to that station???? You don't even LIKE rap!! And I KNOW what station that is because I heard the SAME song . . and downloaded it for baby bro - tell me you didn't think your bro would adore it??

Chairborne Stranger said...

Crack monkey?? Well, she did say she'd be a monkey, for hilarious reasons.

meghansdiscontent said...

Yes, Crack Monkey.
Term of endearment.
I wanna say it emerged Freshman year of college . . .but it could have been Junior year. You'd have to ask Birdie - she keeps up with these things better than myself.

trueborn said...

Suddenly I'm getting an image of a down on his luck capuchin with no teeth and ratty ratty hair. Who want you to pay him to throw shit at you.

Carl from L.A. said...

You mean "U got them big ass hips god damn!" spoke to you and tucked on your heart strings?

God Damn!

I'm surprised you didn't substitute Crisco with Lard.

The Great and Might Os said...

I LOVE that song, but that doesn't mean I am going to agree with you on DRESSING for the holidays. I will never give up my SpongeBob Holiday boxers. Or JoeBoxer Snoopy sledding downhill boxers. NEVER I tell you. You'll have to pry them off my cold, dead body. Wait.... that might be more interesting before death. Still not giving them up though.
Ditto for my Santa scarf.