They Don't Call Me Gangsta For Nothing
Ummm … they don't call you a gangsta at all
Just Curious…
Do you think that when Mr. T said “I pity da foo” that he was talking about this guy? I mean, I do kind of pity him. He has to live in Gaston’s shadow and shit.
Boo hoo booger bum
Friday is supposed to be “TGIFFFFFFFF!!!!!!! Yipee! Yipaw! Kapow-pow-pow-pop!”…but not this week. Allow me to lobby for your sympathy whilst I wallow in my own self-pity for a moment….
There’s a little g (me) whose sitting at her desk trying not to cry. Why? Let me count the ways….
- Last night the forecast called for snowfall and this morning it was just pouring. No snow. All rain. No good.
- I lost my ID badge along with the beep pass to get into the building and my file cabinet keys. What does this mean? This means that I can’t go to the loo whenever I choose, that I can’t access my stash of snacks in my desk cause I locked them up thinking that they were real live treasures, and that because I work in a hospital and security is of utmost importance that I got a wagging finger from each and every person I had to contact in order to fix my problem.
- My hands won’t stop sweating.
- I really want a breakfast burrito.
- Its just one of those days when a tear must be shed.
- I’m sad that Spartacus’ wife was murdered by Dominus.
- My mom put a heater right in front of my face while I was sleeping and I’m pretty sure my face in burnt as a result.
- I ate a cookie before training last night and spent the entire class burping and regretting eating said cookie. RIP cookie.
If I was not me looking at me feeling sorry for myself I would say “Guuuuuuurl!! (snap snap snap) you have got to pull yourself together! Gosh it disturbs me to see you, LB, looking so down in the dumps! Every girl here would love to be you, LB, even when taking your lumps! There’s no woman in town as admired as you, you’re everyone’s favorite girrrrrl. Everyone’s awed and inspired by youuuuuuuu and its not very hardddd to see whyyyyyyyyy!” But I am me, so instead I’ll try and hold off on hitting up a bar for some rum ba dum until after lunch and, in the interim, put deodorant on my hands to see if that helps*.
*Just kidding?
“It’s all shits and giggles until someone giggles and shits.”
My eldest brethren.
Gangsta Truth #174
You can have all the gangsta swag in the world, but all it takes is one lame song on your playlist to fuck it up.
Case and point? Hearing “Mmm Bop” from Hanson equals an automatic reduction from gangsta status to 13 year old girl.
Notorious
“Never let no one know how much dough you hold. The cheddar breed jealousy.”
- Notorious B.I.G. “10 Crack Commandments”
Today’s thug hug goes out to my man Biggie Smalls, aka Big Poppa, aka the Black Frank White. If you were alive right now, I’d give you a thug hug. I mean, why you look so sad?
You’ve got a mother fucking crown on your head! You should be straight ruling shit dawg. Is that why you’re sad? Are the pressure of leadership and governing a monarchy fucking with your vibe? Yeah, that’s prolly it. You’re prolly just thinking about the good old days when you could just chill, eat a dozen big macs, and drink a Diet Coke (you know, for health reasons).
Maybe it’s the trappings of success. Maybe it’s the fact that you realize that you didn’t respect your own crack commandments and all of a sudden there be a lot of jealous peeps fucking with your shit. It’s probably the lack of genuine people around that’s making you feel disconnected, emotional and sad. That’s probably it.
Or maybe you somebody fucked up and put pickles on your sandwich. Everyone knows Big Poppa fucking hates pickles!
But no worries Biggie Smalls. If you were around and looking all sad and shit and I was around, I would definitely give you a thug hug. And maybe a teddy bear named Scrappy Bear to watch your back while you sleep.
FAQs. What?
Q: Hey LB, just wondering what your initials stand for…
A: Lilly BADASSNESS. Duh.
Q: Hi! You seem really superfly which, I guess means you drive a superfly car. Is this true?
A: Damn straight. I ride the B.U.S. (an acronym from “Buses usually roCk”)
Q: I just wanted to let you know that you’re really pretty!
A: That’s not a question but thanks!
Q: I just wanted to let you know that you’re really smart!
A: That’s not a questions either, but thanks as well!
Q: I just wanted to let you know that you’re really funny!
A: Oh my gosh guys….is somebody playing a prank on me?? Seriously? You don’t have to say these things you know!
Q: I just wanted to let you know you’re the greatest person in the entire world!
A: I KNOW, RIGHT?!!
That’s all for now, continue my phenomenological inquiry. LYLAS suckers!
They Don’t Call Me a Gangsta for Nothing. Seriously. They’re Not Joking.
I gots me a black eye, that’s why foo! SNAP CRACKLE POP!
From here on out you can just call me Fan Mulan Lilly Bear Lillian! Illy…Panda Killer Lilly Laser Death Ray Parsons.
Okay, I’ll admit that I initially thought (a) I just looked really tired under one eye and (b) it didn’t hurt when I pushed it, but after further inspection and a small survey fielded in my office, I have ascertained that I indeed am sporting a panda eye of the pimp nature.
PS. Nobody was hurt (especially me!), these things just sort of happen spontaneously when you’re walking around in Gangsterland I suppose.
LYLAS!
Rap vs. Hip Hop
“The difference between rap and hip hop? It’s like the difference between loving someone and being in love.” - Sanaa Lathan
Oh snap! Shit just got deep. On a side note, what the fuck? My sober brain hurts from trying to figure this out.
