Anyone who has been reading this blog knows that I have become consumed with all of the "BS" that's going on in this campaign, particulary with the Republicans, newsmedia and a couple of liberals and independents who are trippin as well.
Anyone who knows me personally knows that I have only recently been actually able to watch the news for fear that we're truly screwed if Obama loses.
Thus, I've used this tremendus tension to launch a new blog: Liberal and Scared OR johnmccaindoesntgetit at http://johnmccaindoesntgetit.blogspot.com/.
Please check it out, and maybe even send me an email if you're interested in making a contributing post!
xo,
Papoose
Monday, September 8, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING? today I realized
THREE things pissing me off:
1.) John McCain is Fake and Manipulative
- how is this guy gonna pull the "underdog" card, I mean its true... Obama is hot as shit right now, but really? taking advantage of feeble minded americans (see post below)? There ARE indeed people who still NEVER want to see this shit go down, and John McCain is totally capitalizing on that bogus racial fear. First of all, that black people are going to totally shift some sort of social order by B.O. winning in November, and secondly, fear that this would correspond to some moral danger. Don't tell me y'all didn't see that CRAZY ASS group off racist college guys in Borat! People still think that shit. Black man is the underdog, all day everyday.
oh, and can somebody please ask this guy to stop smiling? its really obviously not a natural facial expression for him.
(i went to John McCain's website to retrieve a picture and was all of a sudden SO stressed out just by the straight laced design of his website. i got conservative brain freeze.)
2.)Ralph Nader is getting paid by Karl Rove. Period.
3.) Heinz Debacle
When I saw this shit, I was pissed enough to actually call up Headline News. I was mad as hell.
All the important details consist of: two guys kiss at the end and it wasn't particularly disturbing, but it also wasn't particularly funny. So anyway, I think that this commercial was only played in the UK.
So all the important details of the the problem, was that this commercial wasn't funny.
Proposed Solution: Make "AM I BLUE" required reading. Not to "convert people to a homosexual lifestyle" ("idiot piece of shit middle american" terminology), but to convert them to empathetic ones.
AW
1.) John McCain is Fake and Manipulative
- how is this guy gonna pull the "underdog" card, I mean its true... Obama is hot as shit right now, but really? taking advantage of feeble minded americans (see post below)? There ARE indeed people who still NEVER want to see this shit go down, and John McCain is totally capitalizing on that bogus racial fear. First of all, that black people are going to totally shift some sort of social order by B.O. winning in November, and secondly, fear that this would correspond to some moral danger. Don't tell me y'all didn't see that CRAZY ASS group off racist college guys in Borat! People still think that shit. Black man is the underdog, all day everyday.
oh, and can somebody please ask this guy to stop smiling? its really obviously not a natural facial expression for him.
(i went to John McCain's website to retrieve a picture and was all of a sudden SO stressed out just by the straight laced design of his website. i got conservative brain freeze.)
2.)Ralph Nader is getting paid by Karl Rove. Period.
3.) Heinz Debacle
When I saw this shit, I was pissed enough to actually call up Headline News. I was mad as hell.
All the important details consist of: two guys kiss at the end and it wasn't particularly disturbing, but it also wasn't particularly funny. So anyway, I think that this commercial was only played in the UK.
So all the important details of the the problem, was that this commercial wasn't funny.
Proposed Solution: Make "AM I BLUE" required reading. Not to "convert people to a homosexual lifestyle" ("idiot piece of shit middle american" terminology), but to convert them to empathetic ones.
AW
Sunday, April 27, 2008
AOL is Republican Propaganda
Luckily, I was "blessed" enough with catching some real phooey on AOL, which I rarely go on nowadays.
The imagery here is very clear, even to the non racially sensitive eye.
- First of all, it is very easy to tell who AOL is suggesting is the rich male and who the middle class male is. The Black male is rich and the middle class male is the white male, if you couldn't tell.
- This representation is inaccurate. Whereas the plight of the middle class is not racially restrictive, it is more likely for black men to be unemployed (or incarcerated) , or working class than white men.
- This image plays into the working/middle class white man's fear that not only is the government unfairly helping the black man, but also that this government help has propelled him to a professional class which surpasses his.
Why is it that the first time I've been particularly stricken by AOL's breaking of socioeconomic stereotyping it's in their effort to reinforce racial scare tactics? Do they intend to continue to alter the reality in ways that are positive and beneficial towards black male professionalism?
- As Barack Obama comes closer to winning the Democratic nomination, is the Black man in the tailored suit replacing the black man in the orange jumpsuit as the visual representation of white middle America's racial fears? CERTAINLY.
- Historical Note: lynching was most often targeted towards successful black males in the community, these being, apparently the most offensive (threatening) to the Anglo normative social order
To answer AOL's question, perhaps the income gap between rich and middle class families is getting bigger, but so is the income gap between blacks and whites...perhaps they should address this with more realistic imaging. The link to the article reads: "How Bad it'll Get." The coupling with this image implies the white man's ultimate fear and insecurity, i.e., BLACK LEADERSHIP AND ECONOMIC PROSPERITY, LEADS TO BLACK SUPREMACY, and perhaps for the particularly neurotic, LEADS TO WHITE SLAVERY.
I'm sure Middle Americans are eating this shit up. I hope they know that it comes from ass of a racist cowardly bull.
RACIST
I'm offended and terrified. Maybe its about time to write my "I endorse Barack Obama" entry... For now, please consult Professor Tim McCarthy's "The Tim Zone" at http://www.enterthetimzone.blogspot.com/
Stay (RACIALLY) Real,
Papoose
The imagery here is very clear, even to the non racially sensitive eye.
- First of all, it is very easy to tell who AOL is suggesting is the rich male and who the middle class male is. The Black male is rich and the middle class male is the white male, if you couldn't tell.
- This representation is inaccurate. Whereas the plight of the middle class is not racially restrictive, it is more likely for black men to be unemployed (or incarcerated) , or working class than white men.
- This image plays into the working/middle class white man's fear that not only is the government unfairly helping the black man, but also that this government help has propelled him to a professional class which surpasses his.
Why is it that the first time I've been particularly stricken by AOL's breaking of socioeconomic stereotyping it's in their effort to reinforce racial scare tactics? Do they intend to continue to alter the reality in ways that are positive and beneficial towards black male professionalism?
- As Barack Obama comes closer to winning the Democratic nomination, is the Black man in the tailored suit replacing the black man in the orange jumpsuit as the visual representation of white middle America's racial fears? CERTAINLY.
- Historical Note: lynching was most often targeted towards successful black males in the community, these being, apparently the most offensive (threatening) to the Anglo normative social order
To answer AOL's question, perhaps the income gap between rich and middle class families is getting bigger, but so is the income gap between blacks and whites...perhaps they should address this with more realistic imaging. The link to the article reads: "How Bad it'll Get." The coupling with this image implies the white man's ultimate fear and insecurity, i.e., BLACK LEADERSHIP AND ECONOMIC PROSPERITY, LEADS TO BLACK SUPREMACY, and perhaps for the particularly neurotic, LEADS TO WHITE SLAVERY.
I'm sure Middle Americans are eating this shit up. I hope they know that it comes from ass of a racist cowardly bull.
RACIST
I'm offended and terrified. Maybe its about time to write my "I endorse Barack Obama" entry... For now, please consult Professor Tim McCarthy's "The Tim Zone" at http://www.enterthetimzone.blogspot.com/
Stay (RACIALLY) Real,
Papoose
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
fakeness musings 8:40am
there is a sun, there is melanin, there are tans.
there are tanning salons, moisturizers, aerosols which all resemble tans, but they aren't. they're FAKE tans.
but for some reason, some people can't see when a tan looks inappropriately fake. it is almost as though certain conditions predispose one's aesthetic to more readily accept fakeness.
i'd say the same applies for personalities.
there are tanning salons, moisturizers, aerosols which all resemble tans, but they aren't. they're FAKE tans.
but for some reason, some people can't see when a tan looks inappropriately fake. it is almost as though certain conditions predispose one's aesthetic to more readily accept fakeness.
i'd say the same applies for personalities.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
I will be on this website all damned night.
True. And Truer.
Educated Black People Like Jazz.
One will only need to be in the company of an EBP for a short time before they hear about the EBPs love for jazz. Jazz has the uncanny ability of touching an EBP’s inner soul and heart, and making them feel them feel the pains and problems of the past. It is also the preferred date, as it shows true sophistication and understanding, while always impressing the ladies. EBPs feel like that they cannot be at regular radio-promoted parties, and will drive thru hell to find the newly found jazz club. Once there, they can sip wine and hear a failed musician play covers of the great jazz artists. Afterwards, the EBP can discuss the “tone” and “depth” of the music like a seasoned critic.
The one thing with jazz, is that most people only know a handful of artists. Whenever an EBP discusses jazz with friends, it is a lock that they will say one of the following names as their favorite artist: Coltrane, Armstrong, Ellington, Simone or Davis. Any other names will show that they are not truly “lovers” of the jazz movement. EBPs will also make sure any trips to Memphis, Chicago and New Orleans include a stop to an authentic jazz club so they can brag to their friends about how they were able to see the roots of the genre. If anybody wants to start a long term friendship/relationship with an EBP, it must start with a trip to a jazz night. Afterwards, you have them hooked for life.
One will only need to be in the company of an EBP for a short time before they hear about the EBPs love for jazz. Jazz has the uncanny ability of touching an EBP’s inner soul and heart, and making them feel them feel the pains and problems of the past. It is also the preferred date, as it shows true sophistication and understanding, while always impressing the ladies. EBPs feel like that they cannot be at regular radio-promoted parties, and will drive thru hell to find the newly found jazz club. Once there, they can sip wine and hear a failed musician play covers of the great jazz artists. Afterwards, the EBP can discuss the “tone” and “depth” of the music like a seasoned critic.
The one thing with jazz, is that most people only know a handful of artists. Whenever an EBP discusses jazz with friends, it is a lock that they will say one of the following names as their favorite artist: Coltrane, Armstrong, Ellington, Simone or Davis. Any other names will show that they are not truly “lovers” of the jazz movement. EBPs will also make sure any trips to Memphis, Chicago and New Orleans include a stop to an authentic jazz club so they can brag to their friends about how they were able to see the roots of the genre. If anybody wants to start a long term friendship/relationship with an EBP, it must start with a trip to a jazz night. Afterwards, you have them hooked for life.
Can't Wait for the Spin Off "Things Educated Black People Love"
I'll go ahead and throw in the first two: social justice + Barack
Here's the link:
Have fun, and don't forget to think critically!
Educated Black People Like Jazz.
One will only need to be in the company of an EBP for a short time before they hear about the EBPs love for jazz. Jazz has the uncanny ability of touching an EBP’s inner soul and heart, and making them feel them feel the pains and problems of the past. It is also the preferred date, as it shows true sophistication and understanding, while always impressing the ladies. EBPs feel like that they cannot be at regular radio-promoted parties, and will drive thru hell to find the newly found jazz club. Once there, they can sip wine and hear a failed musician play covers of the great jazz artists. Afterwards, the EBP can discuss the “tone” and “depth” of the music like a seasoned critic.
The one thing with jazz, is that most people only know a handful of artists. Whenever an EBP discusses jazz with friends, it is a lock that they will say one of the following names as their favorite artist: Coltrane, Armstrong, Ellington, Simone or Davis. Any other names will show that they are not truly “lovers” of the jazz movement. EBPs will also make sure any trips to Memphis, Chicago and New Orleans include a stop to an authentic jazz club so they can brag to their friends about how they were able to see the roots of the genre. If anybody wants to start a long term friendship/relationship with an EBP, it must start with a trip to a jazz night. Afterwards, you have them hooked for life.
One will only need to be in the company of an EBP for a short time before they hear about the EBPs love for jazz. Jazz has the uncanny ability of touching an EBP’s inner soul and heart, and making them feel them feel the pains and problems of the past. It is also the preferred date, as it shows true sophistication and understanding, while always impressing the ladies. EBPs feel like that they cannot be at regular radio-promoted parties, and will drive thru hell to find the newly found jazz club. Once there, they can sip wine and hear a failed musician play covers of the great jazz artists. Afterwards, the EBP can discuss the “tone” and “depth” of the music like a seasoned critic.
The one thing with jazz, is that most people only know a handful of artists. Whenever an EBP discusses jazz with friends, it is a lock that they will say one of the following names as their favorite artist: Coltrane, Armstrong, Ellington, Simone or Davis. Any other names will show that they are not truly “lovers” of the jazz movement. EBPs will also make sure any trips to Memphis, Chicago and New Orleans include a stop to an authentic jazz club so they can brag to their friends about how they were able to see the roots of the genre. If anybody wants to start a long term friendship/relationship with an EBP, it must start with a trip to a jazz night. Afterwards, you have them hooked for life.
Can't Wait for the Spin Off "Things Educated Black People Love"
I'll go ahead and throw in the first two: social justice + Barack
Here's the link:
Have fun, and don't forget to think critically!
Monday, March 10, 2008
Bulletin: The Keeping It Real Ko-operative
Attn: On my jock, excess of haters. Please contact the KIRK for a hater exchange. Will appoint haters at low prices, will also supply buyers with witty comebacks - WE WILL NOT BE UNDERSOLD.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
The Day I Saw Cory Kennedy... by Kelsey Anne Maguire
In the second piece of an oft stagnated series of guest contributions, my fellow Fallen Angel and one of my Freshman Five, Miss Kelsey Anne Maguire (as seen in on "The Cobrasnake") shares a snapshot from her glamorous weekend in NYC during Fashion Week:
The Day I Saw Cory Kennedy...
I went into Manhattan last weekend with the intention of seeing friends and doing some fashion-people-stalking at Bryant Park. I woke up late on Saturday after a bizarre night out with my friend (who is a model and is evidently only friends with other models, as I was perpetually thirty pounds heavier than every person I met that night). However, I threw on a semi-cute outfit (lest I miss my chance to be on The Sartorialist) and caught a cab to meet some friends at Bryant Park.
I met my friend Elliot (who looked fabulous and had a much better chance of landing a spot on the sartorialist than I did) and I walked to the back of the tents, where the people who didn't want to be seen (and thus the people I wanted to see) exited the tent. The first spotting of the day was Irina Lazareanu and Iekeliene Stange, each sporting their signature looks--thick, dark bangs on Irina and kooky, lenseless glasses on Iekeliene.
Next, my personal favorite spotting of the day, Cory Kennedy came galloping out of the tents with Mark-the-Cobrasnake (her boss? her friend? her boyfriend? her dealer? It's unclear...). He snapped a picture of her which I found on his website the next day and in the background of which Elliot and I seem to be idly sitting and chatting (we were, in fact, gasping and giggling). Elliot and I stood up and walked over closer to her. Her outfit was pretty disappointing (skinny jeans and a red jacket), but she was wearing a fantastic purple nylon Prada backpack that almost made up for the rest of the outfit.
After a few more very D-list celeb-sightings (does Damien from MTV count as a celebrity?), I got a call from my friend Will saying he had tickets to the Rock & Republic fashion show later that night and asked if I wanted to come (his celebrity-offspring friend who got him the tickets couldn't come last minute). Seeing as how attending a fashion show was on my list of ten things to before I died, I agreed to meet him in an hour.
I was immediately shown up in the clothing department, as Will was wearing canary yellow pants, black boots, a blue shirt, and a huge fox fur vest. Once he was done getting ready ("Does this smell like women's perfume? I swear it's for men..."), we cabbed it back to Bryant Park, where we entered through the front entrance. It was pretty crowded outside the tents, with a lot of people (like me, earlier in the day) who were there just to watch the festivities outside. The inside of the tents was fabulous as well--Will and I went up to each of the three bars and ordered vodka tonics (which were free!), drank (no, chugged) them, and moved on to the next bar. We then hopped in the line to get into the show. I was a little disappointed there was a line inside the tent, although we quickly made friends with a woman in front of us who was foreign and seemed to be friends with all of the people going through the V.I.P. entrance. She gave Mickey Boardman a kiss on the cheek right in front of me, to which Will, who was fairly tipsy, tried to impress her by saying, "He's so good at what he does," only clarifying to our new friend that he indeed had NO idea who Mickey Boardman was.
When we finally got inside the show, I felt like a kid in a candy shop. We were given shiny black booklets listing the models' names and their "looks". After taking our seats and reading the pamphlet from front to back, I looked up, only to realize I was under direct fire from the paparrazi who were shooting pictures of Sophia Bush. Christina Milian and Tyson Beckford also stood up in front of the photographers, and although being mildly blinded by the flashing lights, I was able to get a close enough look at them to confirm Tyson Beckford’s real life attractiveness. The photographers were soon asked to stop taking pictures, and when the flashing lights stopped, I was able to see across the runway to the plethora of celebrities on the other side. Nigel Barker ("noted fashion photographer" of America's Next Top Model fame) sat in the front row looking beautiful as ever. In his velvet blazer, he looked like the straight man's answer to Tom Ford. Lydia Hearst sat nearby with a beehive-esque hairdo and pink dress that made her look like cotton candy. Joss Stone sat to the right of her, looking particularly grungy in what I discerned to be Rock & Republic jeans, a blue C&C California tank top, and an oversized sweater-wrap.
The lights soon dimmed and a ten-person orchestra/band took the stage. After a few moments of darkness, they started in on Eric Clapton's "Layla" and the models started coming out. The clothes were, for lack of a better word, hideous; the show consisted of mainly black nylon-looking suits and draped jersey dresses with horrendous cutouts. However, seeing models like Jessica Stam, Caroline Trentini, and Flavia de Oliveira strut their stuff on stage was pretty incredible.
After Michael Ball, the designer, took his bow and the audience finished applauding, I left Will, who was going to the after-party at 1 Oak, and snuck out the back to meet up with Elliot and my other friends and to get one last look at the models and celebs exiting the show. I decided to call it a day after seeing Russell Simmons and his new girlfriend (oh, how I miss Kimo.Lee). All in all, I fulfilled a lifelong dream and saw Cory Kennedy—you can’t do much better than that!
The Day I Saw Cory Kennedy...
I went into Manhattan last weekend with the intention of seeing friends and doing some fashion-people-stalking at Bryant Park. I woke up late on Saturday after a bizarre night out with my friend (who is a model and is evidently only friends with other models, as I was perpetually thirty pounds heavier than every person I met that night). However, I threw on a semi-cute outfit (lest I miss my chance to be on The Sartorialist) and caught a cab to meet some friends at Bryant Park.
I met my friend Elliot (who looked fabulous and had a much better chance of landing a spot on the sartorialist than I did) and I walked to the back of the tents, where the people who didn't want to be seen (and thus the people I wanted to see) exited the tent. The first spotting of the day was Irina Lazareanu and Iekeliene Stange, each sporting their signature looks--thick, dark bangs on Irina and kooky, lenseless glasses on Iekeliene.
Next, my personal favorite spotting of the day, Cory Kennedy came galloping out of the tents with Mark-the-Cobrasnake (her boss? her friend? her boyfriend? her dealer? It's unclear...). He snapped a picture of her which I found on his website the next day and in the background of which Elliot and I seem to be idly sitting and chatting (we were, in fact, gasping and giggling). Elliot and I stood up and walked over closer to her. Her outfit was pretty disappointing (skinny jeans and a red jacket), but she was wearing a fantastic purple nylon Prada backpack that almost made up for the rest of the outfit.
After a few more very D-list celeb-sightings (does Damien from MTV count as a celebrity?), I got a call from my friend Will saying he had tickets to the Rock & Republic fashion show later that night and asked if I wanted to come (his celebrity-offspring friend who got him the tickets couldn't come last minute). Seeing as how attending a fashion show was on my list of ten things to before I died, I agreed to meet him in an hour.
I was immediately shown up in the clothing department, as Will was wearing canary yellow pants, black boots, a blue shirt, and a huge fox fur vest. Once he was done getting ready ("Does this smell like women's perfume? I swear it's for men..."), we cabbed it back to Bryant Park, where we entered through the front entrance. It was pretty crowded outside the tents, with a lot of people (like me, earlier in the day) who were there just to watch the festivities outside. The inside of the tents was fabulous as well--Will and I went up to each of the three bars and ordered vodka tonics (which were free!), drank (no, chugged) them, and moved on to the next bar. We then hopped in the line to get into the show. I was a little disappointed there was a line inside the tent, although we quickly made friends with a woman in front of us who was foreign and seemed to be friends with all of the people going through the V.I.P. entrance. She gave Mickey Boardman a kiss on the cheek right in front of me, to which Will, who was fairly tipsy, tried to impress her by saying, "He's so good at what he does," only clarifying to our new friend that he indeed had NO idea who Mickey Boardman was.
When we finally got inside the show, I felt like a kid in a candy shop. We were given shiny black booklets listing the models' names and their "looks". After taking our seats and reading the pamphlet from front to back, I looked up, only to realize I was under direct fire from the paparrazi who were shooting pictures of Sophia Bush. Christina Milian and Tyson Beckford also stood up in front of the photographers, and although being mildly blinded by the flashing lights, I was able to get a close enough look at them to confirm Tyson Beckford’s real life attractiveness. The photographers were soon asked to stop taking pictures, and when the flashing lights stopped, I was able to see across the runway to the plethora of celebrities on the other side. Nigel Barker ("noted fashion photographer" of America's Next Top Model fame) sat in the front row looking beautiful as ever. In his velvet blazer, he looked like the straight man's answer to Tom Ford. Lydia Hearst sat nearby with a beehive-esque hairdo and pink dress that made her look like cotton candy. Joss Stone sat to the right of her, looking particularly grungy in what I discerned to be Rock & Republic jeans, a blue C&C California tank top, and an oversized sweater-wrap.
The lights soon dimmed and a ten-person orchestra/band took the stage. After a few moments of darkness, they started in on Eric Clapton's "Layla" and the models started coming out. The clothes were, for lack of a better word, hideous; the show consisted of mainly black nylon-looking suits and draped jersey dresses with horrendous cutouts. However, seeing models like Jessica Stam, Caroline Trentini, and Flavia de Oliveira strut their stuff on stage was pretty incredible.
After Michael Ball, the designer, took his bow and the audience finished applauding, I left Will, who was going to the after-party at 1 Oak, and snuck out the back to meet up with Elliot and my other friends and to get one last look at the models and celebs exiting the show. I decided to call it a day after seeing Russell Simmons and his new girlfriend (oh, how I miss Kimo.Lee). All in all, I fulfilled a lifelong dream and saw Cory Kennedy—you can’t do much better than that!
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Blog Blog
4:38 - Today is the second day of my ridiculous schedule week. I am sooooooo bored.
5:02 - Calls Placed to CC, SB, Mom, MS, AA, JS, KM, and ML. No answers.
5:20- Took a walk from common room area to my area. Had a pretty good time. Skip is sleep swimming. One missed call from JS.
5:34 - Honor says its gonna take her another hour to finish her homework. Woe.
5:37 - Did internet researched on cute puppies. here is my proof:
5:50- Went to Philadelphia, caught a sixers game, rang the liberty bell. Honor is still not done with her homework. It is a book about some wolfs dreams. I dunno. I have had some pretty spooky dreams, none about no wolfs. Must be some sort of animal psychology class she is taking. I bet is an free A. She's full of shit.
5:02 - Calls Placed to CC, SB, Mom, MS, AA, JS, KM, and ML. No answers.
5:20- Took a walk from common room area to my area. Had a pretty good time. Skip is sleep swimming. One missed call from JS.
5:34 - Honor says its gonna take her another hour to finish her homework. Woe.
5:37 - Did internet researched on cute puppies. here is my proof:
5:50- Went to Philadelphia, caught a sixers game, rang the liberty bell. Honor is still not done with her homework. It is a book about some wolfs dreams. I dunno. I have had some pretty spooky dreams, none about no wolfs. Must be some sort of animal psychology class she is taking. I bet is an free A. She's full of shit.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Hilarious Diddy Quote:
Watching "Making The Band 4" is to be literally dumbfounded at every line of dialogue. It is terrific television. But that simply goes to reinforce the impetus behind its hilarity: everything Diddy touches turns to GOLD...
I refuse to believe that's not true for several reasons (main cause being I rep for Harlem World); in fact, I would say he's the Donald Trump of the Hip Hop world.
Quote from the most recent episode of "Making The Band 4"
This may even be funnier than his fight with Laurieann "BoomBoomKat" Gibson in the last season.
Bad Boy, Baby!
I refuse to believe that's not true for several reasons (main cause being I rep for Harlem World); in fact, I would say he's the Donald Trump of the Hip Hop world.
Quote from the most recent episode of "Making The Band 4"
Its a very contagious sickness that is out here in our community: its bitch-assness. Bitch-assness will not be allowed in Bad Boy.
This may even be funnier than his fight with Laurieann "BoomBoomKat" Gibson in the last season.
Bad Boy, Baby!
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Several Funny Quotes from Real Life:
Anonymous to Honor and Me: " You should start a finals club and call it 'The Blacker Pearl'"
"The spee is a social video game" - Kool Aid
"That's how the kittens win over the cougars: endurance... You gotta come out and play four quarters of football." - In Response to "Rock of Love 2"
"Poor Mr. Duboise, sitting amongst the slutty photo albums..."
"Wearing a Michigan sweatshirt is like having a bad Bat Mitzvah"
"The spee is a social video game" - Kool Aid
"That's how the kittens win over the cougars: endurance... You gotta come out and play four quarters of football." - In Response to "Rock of Love 2"
"Poor Mr. Duboise, sitting amongst the slutty photo albums..."
"Wearing a Michigan sweatshirt is like having a bad Bat Mitzvah"
Agyness Deyn is so hot right now.
This is the woman I've been waiting to come out and inspire me. As Cory Kennedy drifts to the wayside and Sienna and Kate become unimaginative, I am refreshed by Deyn's personal style. I've long been a proponent of the "wear what you want to wear and hope it works out" theory of style. The new crop of it girls are wearing exactly what they want to wear and paying no attention to theme or cohesion. Moreover, if you are dressing yourself without trying in the least to be ironic, you have effed up, or probably look booooring.
Work it.
On the subject of fashion... please check out this month's Teen Vogue, it's a comprehensive look at how the fashion industry is making up for the worst fall through cruise season lines (w/ the exception of pretty Prada dresses) that I have seen since I stopped shopping at Morris Brothers (R.I.P.)
Work it.
On the subject of fashion... please check out this month's Teen Vogue, it's a comprehensive look at how the fashion industry is making up for the worst fall through cruise season lines (w/ the exception of pretty Prada dresses) that I have seen since I stopped shopping at Morris Brothers (R.I.P.)
No Wonder Britney is Crazy... Pathos and the Modern Performer
Let me first state:
1.) I am a Britney supporter and sympathizer.
2.) When I was 14, I wrote Britney a letter telling her what an inspiration she was to me. I felt like she was an incredible entertainer right from the get go, and with the exception of several very recent lack luster performances, believe that she has maintained that persona.
3.) This is biased.
I suppose you could say that the Britney Spears story really begins around age 8, when she tried out for the Mickey Mouse Club. Every morning, I would wake up to watch the program in syndication, which came on at 6:30am, right after 6:00am Mousercises. Surely, my first impressions of Brit were through the excited haze of an endorphin rush, but even then I was impressed by the hearty jazz inspired vocals of the nine year old newcomer.
When Britney's pop singing career exploded in 1998, briefly after Christmas, I was memorized every time the "Hit Me, Baby, One More Time" (I currently have this song as my ring tone as a show of support).
What I now understand is that to have anybody memorized by you, even for a short amount of time is a lot of pressure. Even to have people like you requires that you have to maintain a certain amount of whatever it is that they like you for... and when your livelihood depends on public opinion, which is fickle and cruel, for not one but nearly two decades it could quite obviously become overwhelming.
That's without regard for scheduling. Britney Spears was always touring, selling out stadiums, promoting... Let me provide my own little anecdote. About a week ago, I came home to New York City for a one day stopover to get a massage and get my hair done. I landed in the city at 7pm, got rubbed at 9pm, slept at 12am. The next morning I went to the salon at 11am, got picked up at 3:30pm, and flew to Logan. From Logan, I had to rush into the Cambridge, unload my bags, and get ready to party it up with my girls at the Spice Girls concert at 8:30pm. The next day, I shopped classes and prepared for my mock trial competition the next day. The third day, I left at 6:30am to board a flight to Washington D.C., where I then sat in conferences for 3 hrs. At the end of this day, I had to prepare arguments for the next day. This preparation lasted until 12am, at which point I slept until 8am, at which point I had to prepare for my court time of 9am.
I am currently a few days out of this rush, even though the last several days have been equally hectic. The point, however, is that anybody who maintains this sort of non-stop lifestyle is bound to go crazy (and occasionally forget to wear underwear). As soon as I slow down enough, I think I am going to get a piercing or a tattoo... just because that's what you're inclination is after you stop moving at a breakneck pace. We students want to pull out our hair after a stressful semester. Britney did that shit every day... no summer break, just another tour. She always had to look perfect, eat right, do 500-1000 push ups a day. This seems to me like a torturous lifestyle.
On top of all of her very public and humiliating relationship foibles, Britney has now lost her children. I am very sad for her. Although we all questioned Britney's propensity to be a good mother, I think we all should also understand what a difficult thing it is for people to tell you that you are not fit to raise your own children, and not being able to see them unsupervised.
Granted, Britney may be crazy now, but I truly wish her all the best.
1.) I am a Britney supporter and sympathizer.
2.) When I was 14, I wrote Britney a letter telling her what an inspiration she was to me. I felt like she was an incredible entertainer right from the get go, and with the exception of several very recent lack luster performances, believe that she has maintained that persona.
3.) This is biased.
I suppose you could say that the Britney Spears story really begins around age 8, when she tried out for the Mickey Mouse Club. Every morning, I would wake up to watch the program in syndication, which came on at 6:30am, right after 6:00am Mousercises. Surely, my first impressions of Brit were through the excited haze of an endorphin rush, but even then I was impressed by the hearty jazz inspired vocals of the nine year old newcomer.
When Britney's pop singing career exploded in 1998, briefly after Christmas, I was memorized every time the "Hit Me, Baby, One More Time" (I currently have this song as my ring tone as a show of support).
What I now understand is that to have anybody memorized by you, even for a short amount of time is a lot of pressure. Even to have people like you requires that you have to maintain a certain amount of whatever it is that they like you for... and when your livelihood depends on public opinion, which is fickle and cruel, for not one but nearly two decades it could quite obviously become overwhelming.
That's without regard for scheduling. Britney Spears was always touring, selling out stadiums, promoting... Let me provide my own little anecdote. About a week ago, I came home to New York City for a one day stopover to get a massage and get my hair done. I landed in the city at 7pm, got rubbed at 9pm, slept at 12am. The next morning I went to the salon at 11am, got picked up at 3:30pm, and flew to Logan. From Logan, I had to rush into the Cambridge, unload my bags, and get ready to party it up with my girls at the Spice Girls concert at 8:30pm. The next day, I shopped classes and prepared for my mock trial competition the next day. The third day, I left at 6:30am to board a flight to Washington D.C., where I then sat in conferences for 3 hrs. At the end of this day, I had to prepare arguments for the next day. This preparation lasted until 12am, at which point I slept until 8am, at which point I had to prepare for my court time of 9am.
I am currently a few days out of this rush, even though the last several days have been equally hectic. The point, however, is that anybody who maintains this sort of non-stop lifestyle is bound to go crazy (and occasionally forget to wear underwear). As soon as I slow down enough, I think I am going to get a piercing or a tattoo... just because that's what you're inclination is after you stop moving at a breakneck pace. We students want to pull out our hair after a stressful semester. Britney did that shit every day... no summer break, just another tour. She always had to look perfect, eat right, do 500-1000 push ups a day. This seems to me like a torturous lifestyle.
On top of all of her very public and humiliating relationship foibles, Britney has now lost her children. I am very sad for her. Although we all questioned Britney's propensity to be a good mother, I think we all should also understand what a difficult thing it is for people to tell you that you are not fit to raise your own children, and not being able to see them unsupervised.
Granted, Britney may be crazy now, but I truly wish her all the best.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Daily BoBo Titillation 1/20 + The 4/20 Revolution
Check out these great new Stubbs... I clicked on them because I thought they were both peace signs... little did I know, these clever slides had a bit more in store for me.
A sign that bourgeois liberalism is on the rise? What do these slides mean for the new world of elitism + marijuana consumption? Is this indicative of a larger societal change? Who will be the leaders of the 4/20 Revolution?
Comments welcome and encouraged. I am curious to see what people are thinking. Is legalization something that we think is coming within the next twenty years?
A sign that bourgeois liberalism is on the rise? What do these slides mean for the new world of elitism + marijuana consumption? Is this indicative of a larger societal change? Who will be the leaders of the 4/20 Revolution?
Comments welcome and encouraged. I am curious to see what people are thinking. Is legalization something that we think is coming within the next twenty years?
Friday, January 11, 2008
Only God Knows... so Only He can Judge Me - The Possibility of Existence Differential
I'm so tired of haters. Moreover, I'm tired of haters trying to affect and influence non-haters. So for all of those of us who don't hate, with reason, or for those who do hate, without reason, here is some rational analysis of the nature of judgment in general.
Logical Induction re. Judgment
- There are billions of people in the world now.
- There have been billions of people in the world throughout the course of history.
- For every person ever born, there are an infinite number of minute decisions as to the conditions under which that person is born
- For every interaction with other individuals that infinite amount of possibility of existence is multiplied by the number of individuals involved, multiplied by an infinite amount of circumstances in which the interaction could take place, multiplied by the infinite amount of chemical composures which make each individual's brain chemistry different and therefore make them predisposed to certain emotions, actions, etc.
With literally infinite possibilities in this world - it is impossible to imagine that everyone should understand every part of everyone else. At best, we make friends that understand most of us. 75% is lucky. 95% is unrepeatable phenomenon. There is, however, the likelihood that we may meet someone who understands 0% of who we are. The more of yourself that you offer someone else, the larger the denominator of interactions by which you are judged becomes. Given the great unlikelihood of being understood, the numerator in this proportion (acts communicated favorably/ acts of interaction total)likely stays the same. The less you offer of yourself, the more likely you are to be liked. One good interaction gives you a 100% success rate - although this assumes that no pre-judgment of your character is involved.
Given these odds, is it any wonder why we don't all get along? No. Its pretty obvious why. That said, respect is something that has no variation in its implementation and no exceptions as to its appropriateness. Respect is the ability to listen and reserve judgment on those whom we don't necessarily understand. Ex. If someone makes a statement that another thinks is zany, off color, irrelevant, dumb (although dumb is relatively more objectively defined), not humorous or unworthy, rather than judging that person, respectful conduct dictates that you move on for lack of interpersonal understanding.
Where does our lack of interpersonal understanding come from? Interpersonal ignorance:the lack of interest in why someone said something and who they are to have said it and what it means to them.
Why do people disregard the importance of this sort of understanding? I have several conjectures:
1.) Discomfort with personal honesty and oneself
2.) The overwhelming nature of how many realities exist in the universe
3.) Complete inability to relate and therefore disbelief in the existence of the inherent value of removed perspective
Since there is no scientifically proven measure by which "coolness" is determined, there is no truth in the matter - this sort of judgment is therefore nearly impossible by any objective standards. Rude and judgmental behavior therefore becomes necessarily manifest of one's ignorance.
As someone who has put much thought into how I interact with others I have come up with my own personal conclusion as to why judging others doesn't work for me. I really do not understand some people - many people totally do not understand me. Someone may have myriad reasons to do or say something that I do not understand and their treatment of me does not necessarily involve the value of my character and beliefs at all. Moreover, for someone as goofy as me, to be serious about being nasty to someone I have no reason to be nasty to, takes more effort than my natural tendency to make silly jokes and comments. Rudeness is certainly more difficult, more stressful, and less aerobically efficient than kindness.
I personally believe that people lash out as a result of personal discomfort. To what injury is a witty person if you're not insecure about your own wit or reminded of a personal lack thereof? It is our human tendency to use aggression when we defend ourselves.
On a personal level,I am really tired of my friendliness/goofy demeanor being misunderstood. My closest friends understand that I am a totally goofy individual. I am super honest, even when it is awkward - not because I'm trying to be blunt or hard core, but because I have really never been good at lying, and getting caught in a lie is far more awkward (and not funny) than honest awkwardness which can be endearing.
Laughter perpetuates laughter - happiness perpetuates happiness. So really, we have to ask ourselves: why not just be nice? Why not take an honest stab at smiling at people we don't know in the yard? Just as charity is good for the soul, charitable interactions (granting as much dignity to another's character or system of rationale as we give to ours)increase spiritual soundness.
Be nice,
Papoose
Logical Induction re. Judgment
- There are billions of people in the world now.
- There have been billions of people in the world throughout the course of history.
- For every person ever born, there are an infinite number of minute decisions as to the conditions under which that person is born
- For every interaction with other individuals that infinite amount of possibility of existence is multiplied by the number of individuals involved, multiplied by an infinite amount of circumstances in which the interaction could take place, multiplied by the infinite amount of chemical composures which make each individual's brain chemistry different and therefore make them predisposed to certain emotions, actions, etc.
With literally infinite possibilities in this world - it is impossible to imagine that everyone should understand every part of everyone else. At best, we make friends that understand most of us. 75% is lucky. 95% is unrepeatable phenomenon. There is, however, the likelihood that we may meet someone who understands 0% of who we are. The more of yourself that you offer someone else, the larger the denominator of interactions by which you are judged becomes. Given the great unlikelihood of being understood, the numerator in this proportion (acts communicated favorably/ acts of interaction total)likely stays the same. The less you offer of yourself, the more likely you are to be liked. One good interaction gives you a 100% success rate - although this assumes that no pre-judgment of your character is involved.
Given these odds, is it any wonder why we don't all get along? No. Its pretty obvious why. That said, respect is something that has no variation in its implementation and no exceptions as to its appropriateness. Respect is the ability to listen and reserve judgment on those whom we don't necessarily understand. Ex. If someone makes a statement that another thinks is zany, off color, irrelevant, dumb (although dumb is relatively more objectively defined), not humorous or unworthy, rather than judging that person, respectful conduct dictates that you move on for lack of interpersonal understanding.
Where does our lack of interpersonal understanding come from? Interpersonal ignorance:the lack of interest in why someone said something and who they are to have said it and what it means to them.
Why do people disregard the importance of this sort of understanding? I have several conjectures:
1.) Discomfort with personal honesty and oneself
2.) The overwhelming nature of how many realities exist in the universe
3.) Complete inability to relate and therefore disbelief in the existence of the inherent value of removed perspective
Since there is no scientifically proven measure by which "coolness" is determined, there is no truth in the matter - this sort of judgment is therefore nearly impossible by any objective standards. Rude and judgmental behavior therefore becomes necessarily manifest of one's ignorance.
As someone who has put much thought into how I interact with others I have come up with my own personal conclusion as to why judging others doesn't work for me. I really do not understand some people - many people totally do not understand me. Someone may have myriad reasons to do or say something that I do not understand and their treatment of me does not necessarily involve the value of my character and beliefs at all. Moreover, for someone as goofy as me, to be serious about being nasty to someone I have no reason to be nasty to, takes more effort than my natural tendency to make silly jokes and comments. Rudeness is certainly more difficult, more stressful, and less aerobically efficient than kindness.
I personally believe that people lash out as a result of personal discomfort. To what injury is a witty person if you're not insecure about your own wit or reminded of a personal lack thereof? It is our human tendency to use aggression when we defend ourselves.
On a personal level,I am really tired of my friendliness/goofy demeanor being misunderstood. My closest friends understand that I am a totally goofy individual. I am super honest, even when it is awkward - not because I'm trying to be blunt or hard core, but because I have really never been good at lying, and getting caught in a lie is far more awkward (and not funny) than honest awkwardness which can be endearing.
Laughter perpetuates laughter - happiness perpetuates happiness. So really, we have to ask ourselves: why not just be nice? Why not take an honest stab at smiling at people we don't know in the yard? Just as charity is good for the soul, charitable interactions (granting as much dignity to another's character or system of rationale as we give to ours)increase spiritual soundness.
Be nice,
Papoose
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Some Crunk Inspiration from my ATL niggas/ Daily Affirmation for Blocking Group 101
Lil Yola Ain't Gone Let Up Lyrics
[Spoken]
Lil Yola, you already know, self-made ATM.
A whole lot.
[Verse 1]
See I don't know what ya'll been told
But I gotta get-get me a big bank roll
Yes a fat bag of that sticky in some bad azz hoes
So when I step out on the scene suckas already know
To start hatin', start talkin' about my clothes
You see I'm pimped out come try and knock me for my hoes
I'm a real nigga, so I ain't buy no eddie gold
I ain't gon' trick out with that bitch and ain't gon hang around my folks
I'ma get money nigga, so fuck it I'll kick some doors
Hit the block like the sun, and get rid of all the snow
You can call me a don, cuz of the way I flow
I'm a good role model, just look at me as pro
Yes itz gutta raised net, so itz gutta 'til I die
Those suckas hate me, you can see it in they eyez
When I come around they frown, then wanna dap me down
But when I leave, them bastards talk about me like a clown
But I don't give a fuck!
[Hook]
[in the background, repeated until end of hook: I don't give a fuck, nigga]
I ain't gon' give up, no I ain't gon' let up
No I ain't gon' shuddup
And ain't gon' never let them haterz get to me
Oh, no-no, they'll never get to me
I ain't gon' let up, no I ain't gon' shudup
No I ain't gon' give up
And ain't gon' never let them haterz get to me
Oh, no-no, they'll never get to me
[Verse 2]
I just don't give a fuck, cuz i'm all out wit it
The game ain't done maine, itz just the niggas in it
You can't even wear a jersey, they try to peep ya tags
Can't smoke a blunt of kush, cuz you 'round too many krabs
Niggas get yaself together, go give ya brain a bath
Go to church, start listenin' and get on the right path
Stunted on ya, ya stunted wrong ya get it in ya or get gone
Live fake, you'll die fake, that's just the way it goes
I'ma gangsta, young nigga, so I keep my mouth close
My ears and eyes open, so I can focus on the shit around me
I know they gon' down me, but all I wonder is why in the fuck do they come around me
I gotta say down, I'ma shine like a light, stunt on all these cock roaches
Whether I'm wrong or if I'm right, nigga
Hey! I get money, that's something I like to do
You say mutherfuck me, naw mutherfuck you
Cuz I don't give a fuck!
[Hook]
[in the background, repeated until end of hook: I don't give a fuck, nigga]
I ain't gon' give up, no I ain't gon' let up
No I ain't gon' shuddup
And ain't gon' never let them haterz get to me
Oh, no-no, they'll never get to me
I ain't gon' let up, no I ain't gon' shudup
No I ain't gon' give up
And ain't gon' never let them haterz get to me
Oh, no-no, they'll never get to me
[Spoken]
Lil Yola, you already know, self-made ATM.
A whole lot.
[Verse 1]
See I don't know what ya'll been told
But I gotta get-get me a big bank roll
Yes a fat bag of that sticky in some bad azz hoes
So when I step out on the scene suckas already know
To start hatin', start talkin' about my clothes
You see I'm pimped out come try and knock me for my hoes
I'm a real nigga, so I ain't buy no eddie gold
I ain't gon' trick out with that bitch and ain't gon hang around my folks
I'ma get money nigga, so fuck it I'll kick some doors
Hit the block like the sun, and get rid of all the snow
You can call me a don, cuz of the way I flow
I'm a good role model, just look at me as pro
Yes itz gutta raised net, so itz gutta 'til I die
Those suckas hate me, you can see it in they eyez
When I come around they frown, then wanna dap me down
But when I leave, them bastards talk about me like a clown
But I don't give a fuck!
[Hook]
[in the background, repeated until end of hook: I don't give a fuck, nigga]
I ain't gon' give up, no I ain't gon' let up
No I ain't gon' shuddup
And ain't gon' never let them haterz get to me
Oh, no-no, they'll never get to me
I ain't gon' let up, no I ain't gon' shudup
No I ain't gon' give up
And ain't gon' never let them haterz get to me
Oh, no-no, they'll never get to me
[Verse 2]
I just don't give a fuck, cuz i'm all out wit it
The game ain't done maine, itz just the niggas in it
You can't even wear a jersey, they try to peep ya tags
Can't smoke a blunt of kush, cuz you 'round too many krabs
Niggas get yaself together, go give ya brain a bath
Go to church, start listenin' and get on the right path
Stunted on ya, ya stunted wrong ya get it in ya or get gone
Live fake, you'll die fake, that's just the way it goes
I'ma gangsta, young nigga, so I keep my mouth close
My ears and eyes open, so I can focus on the shit around me
I know they gon' down me, but all I wonder is why in the fuck do they come around me
I gotta say down, I'ma shine like a light, stunt on all these cock roaches
Whether I'm wrong or if I'm right, nigga
Hey! I get money, that's something I like to do
You say mutherfuck me, naw mutherfuck you
Cuz I don't give a fuck!
[Hook]
[in the background, repeated until end of hook: I don't give a fuck, nigga]
I ain't gon' give up, no I ain't gon' let up
No I ain't gon' shuddup
And ain't gon' never let them haterz get to me
Oh, no-no, they'll never get to me
I ain't gon' let up, no I ain't gon' shudup
No I ain't gon' give up
And ain't gon' never let them haterz get to me
Oh, no-no, they'll never get to me
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Friends vs. People Who I Have Never Met
In the debate between whether I like my friends more, or whether I like people who I have never met before - I would say that I like my friends more.
NYE 2008:
"It is getting too loud in here. This is the Upper West Side - there's nothing but old white folks over 50. That means if I've never seen you before in my life, you have to go. I'm serious - I've never seen you in my entire life. You, You, You, YOu, YOu and YOU: GET THE FUCK OUT!"
now how is that for running my social life like a well - oiled corporation...eat my shorts, finals clubs!!!
NYE 2008:
"It is getting too loud in here. This is the Upper West Side - there's nothing but old white folks over 50. That means if I've never seen you before in my life, you have to go. I'm serious - I've never seen you in my entire life. You, You, You, YOu, YOu and YOU: GET THE FUCK OUT!"
now how is that for running my social life like a well - oiled corporation...eat my shorts, finals clubs!!!
Hey There, Blogger!
Blogger posts all entry times in Pacific, because they figure that the only people narcissistic/doped up enough to think that people actually want to read what they think about live in California.
Ha! Whatever - Fooled you again, Blogger!!!
BTW - that's 3 decent posts before 1:10pm - Incredible W+B productivity AND GOD BLESS READING PERIOD!
Ha! Whatever - Fooled you again, Blogger!!!
BTW - that's 3 decent posts before 1:10pm - Incredible W+B productivity AND GOD BLESS READING PERIOD!
Narrow Appeal Humor (aka I only had low numbrt of friends who truly got me in high school)
Here Is What My Voice Mail Message Said Circa 2000 - 2003:
So there is my bit of hilarity for the hour.
You've reached A Willy
Leave a message at the tone
If you ain't got a message,
Fool hang up the phone,
But I know you wanna talk,
and You know it too,
so at the beep,
You know what you gotta' do!
So there is my bit of hilarity for the hour.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
SPOTTED (Not for the faint-hearted or Marxist)
Dear GP (General Public, God's People, make of it what you will),
I am pretty disturbed by a recent trend that I have seen EXPLODING before my eyes since I arrived back on the lovely crimson campus. Is it just me, or did every bitch on campus show up with a new designer bag (ostensibly procured from some Godless Parnevu celebration of Christ's birth)? If I have to roll my eyes one more time at some bright yellow stitching, they will get stuck.
Now before you take offense, readership, please note that I have a general dislike for ALL phonies, exclusive of class origin or affiliation. That includes monied little city boys running around in "fitteds" as well as MA (middle American) bumpkins flashing their new LVs ("if your handles ain't tan, you ain't the man). Fuckin' Brewster's Crimson Millions up in this piece.
Now being the cultural liaison/middle man I have to see the other side of the coin... which is the equally and consequentially disturbing pressure to procure such manifestations of wealth on Harvard's campus.
But as for those of us who got gassed on 12/25 and will continue to be gassed through 1/14/08 I must reiterate a maxim: Part of being truly fresh is having always been truly fresh. And with that, swagger cannot be supplemented by physical items nor is it contingent upon propensity to buy such items.
Recap:
Being nouveau: icky. Being nouveau for the two weeks following Christmas: excruciating to the community at large.
I am pretty disturbed by a recent trend that I have seen EXPLODING before my eyes since I arrived back on the lovely crimson campus. Is it just me, or did every bitch on campus show up with a new designer bag (ostensibly procured from some Godless Parnevu celebration of Christ's birth)? If I have to roll my eyes one more time at some bright yellow stitching, they will get stuck.
Now before you take offense, readership, please note that I have a general dislike for ALL phonies, exclusive of class origin or affiliation. That includes monied little city boys running around in "fitteds" as well as MA (middle American) bumpkins flashing their new LVs ("if your handles ain't tan, you ain't the man). Fuckin' Brewster's Crimson Millions up in this piece.
Now being the cultural liaison/middle man I have to see the other side of the coin... which is the equally and consequentially disturbing pressure to procure such manifestations of wealth on Harvard's campus.
But as for those of us who got gassed on 12/25 and will continue to be gassed through 1/14/08 I must reiterate a maxim: Part of being truly fresh is having always been truly fresh. And with that, swagger cannot be supplemented by physical items nor is it contingent upon propensity to buy such items.
Recap:
Being nouveau: icky. Being nouveau for the two weeks following Christmas: excruciating to the community at large.
Friday, January 4, 2008
Happy New Year!!!
I would like to give a big shout out to the 10 fans of my blog. You guys keep food on my table... and a song in my heart!!! Happy New Year - i hope that this year we not only become one year older, but also one year wiser.
Happy New Year from Mandy and Milly the Mink!
Happy New Year from Mandy and Milly the Mink!
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