26 March 2006

When you come around, brothas clown a lot.

People used to think I was pissed off all the time. I wasn't; I just took shit pretty seriously. These days, as long as you aren't running over my dog, punching any member of my family in the neck, or fucking with my job, I'm cool with you. [Got nothin' but love for ya.] [I just read Sarah B.'s flickr wherein Poison by BBD and Knockin' Boots by Candyman were mentioned, and apparently as such I am obsessed with 90s hip-hop right now. Big-ups to anyone who can name both the title and the "got nothin' but love for ya" references.]


There are things that I find completely hilarious that most other people don't understand. And there are things that my siblings and I find completely hilarious that NO ONE else gets. And there are things that my friends and I find completely hilarious that become merely funny after time, but they still get mentioned A LOT, because we laugh all the time. And there are things that my BFF and I find utterly, totally, completely hilarious that we can't share with anyone else based on account of how it would make us look like giant assholes.

The other night we were leaving the bar and my drunk friends wanted Good Times, so we're standing outside Good Times waiting for our food, and this hippie dude walks up and the first thing he says screams is "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE EATING! STOP ORDERING!" And I kind of thought he was with one of the other 800 people who were waiting for Good Times at 0200. But he wasn't, and somehow he made his way up to where we were. That might have been because of my friend Jamie screaming at him about Super Size Me, or maybe that was the boy behind us. Whatever, he got up to us. And some sort of weird, drunken arguing match ensues. And it is definitely NOT warm enough to be standing outside hearing about going to Coleman dot com, or whatever, and reading about what is REALLY in their 100% all beef patties. And dude.. I am almost positive no one who eats fast food eats it because they honestly believe they are eating one hundred percent ANYTHING.

The drunken boy behind us, who happened to be from Providence, RI, started arguing about how he DOES know what's in it, and how McDonald's McNuggets are made from 70% tuna fish, or something like that. And this the hippie took GREAT offense to, for some reason. "YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHIIIIIIIIIIIIIING." I sat down on the curb, convinced we were never going to leave Good Times, and, if that's the case, should I just order some fucking wild fries?

Finally my friends started getting their food, and we are *thisclose* to leaving. And then:
Hippie: You're full of shit.
Providence: You're full of shit!
Hippie: You're full of SHIT!
Sara: Oh my crap. :yawn:
Michelle: Is somebody full of shit?
Providence: YOU'RE full of shit!
Hippie: You don't even know what you're talking about.
Providence: You're full of shit. I'm full of shit. Your ponytail is made of tuna fish.

For some reason, that was the funniest thing I had ever heard. And it has since become my rebuttal to anything mean said to me.
Boy: You look like crap today.
Sara: Shut up. Your ponytail is made of tuna fish.

I love it. Had we left any sooner, I would not have my new catch phrase. So, I guess a thank you is in order. Thanks, Good Times, for being the slowest motherfuckers ever to cook 70% tuna fish burgers at 2am.

07 March 2006

My Jesus

Without getting too much into how I feel about religion and God and Christians, I'll just say that this Todd Agnew song has changed my life. It makes me so happy to hear a successful Christian artist putting to task those who use Christ's name in error and vain.

My Jesus
Todd Agnew

Which Jesus do you follow?
Which Jesus do you serve?
If Ephesians says to imitate Christ
Then why do you look so much like the world?

'Cause my Jesus bled and died
He spent His time with thieves and liars
He loved the poor and accosted the arrogant
So which one do you want to be?

Blessed are the poor in spirit
Or do we pray to be blessed with the wealth of this land
Blessed are they that hunger and thirst for righteousness
Or do we ache for another taste of this world of shifting sand?

'Cause my Jesus bled and died for my sins
He spent His time with thieves and sluts and liars
He loved the poor and accosted the rich
So which one do you want to be?

Who is this that you follow?
This picture of the American dream
If Jesus was here would you walk right by on the other side,
or fall down and worship at His holy feet?

Pretty blue eyes and curly brown hair and a clear complexion
Is how you see Him as He dies for Your sins
But the Word says He was battered and scarred
Or did you miss that part?
Sometimes I doubt we'd recognize Him

'Cause my Jesus bled and died
He spent His time with thieves and the least of these
He loved the poor and accosted the comfortable
So which one do you want to be

'Cause my Jesus would never be accepted in my church
The blood and dirt on His feet would stain the carpet
But He reaches for the hurting and despised the proud
And I think He'd prefer Beale St. to the stained glass crowd
And I know that He can hear me if I cry out loud:
I want to be like my Jesus!

I want to be like my Jesus!
Not a posterchild for American prosperity, but like my Jesus
You see, I'm tired of living for success and popularity
I want to be like my Jesus, but I'm not sure what that means, to be like You, Jesus

'Cause You said to live like You, love like You but then You died for me
Can I be like You Jesus?
I want to be like my Jesus

03 March 2006

March Madness

Seriously, I never have anything to say. I have come to tell you one thing, and one thing only: It is [almost] March Madness time. This means everyone MUST participate in Bracketology/March Madness Mayhem. It will be fun. I will lose. Blahblahblah.