Judas Federline?!?!?!
I don’t have nearly the patience I did ten years ago. When I’m writing something, say a blog, or some song lyrics, or a threatening letter to my super secret Phen-Fen/Dexatrim colon irrigationist about her not-so-gentle touch as of late, if it takes me more than ten minutes I generally throw it across the room and start shouting obscenities at the television for distracting me with upcoming scenes from the next episode of TJ Hooker while Aaron clamors with the cats into the corner in terror and soothes his nerves by eating cobwebs and Cool Ranch Doritos that I dropped on the floor at an earlier date. This is why we were all so grateful that I witnessed a human being so vile, so disgusting, so ass-baggish that I was able to write a way-too-long blog in my head in the first five seconds that I looked at him. Strap yourself in.
I was walking in downtown Ft. Lauderdale, minding my own business while talking shit about most of you behind your backs, when I heard some horrid techno from the early 90’s coming closer and closer. I think it was actually “Planet Soul”, which makes it even more horrific, but the real horror hadn’t truly even begun yet. As the obnoxious sports car that was spewing this wretched crap got closer, I actually smelled the driver's cologne - FROM THE SIDEWALK.
He parked his assbag mobile and shuffled towards me with an exaggerated white boy “pimp limp” that made 50 Cent look like Andrew McCarthy in prep school on a tennis scholarship. He was wearing a nylon warm-up suit with the sleeves ripped off, exposing his assortment of barbed wire and pit bull tattoos. The top was zipped down to his belly button so he could flaunt his nipple rings and glittery chest. (I’m not kidding. There was glitter on it.) His camouflage-print hat was turned a notch to the side to show off his overly sculptured Jesse Metcalfesque eyebrows that framed his dullard eyes like caterpillars. In short, he looked so much like Kevin Federline that I found myself clutching my wallet and putting on a dress made of lead to protect my reproductive organs. Gucci tinted sunglasses at night? Check. Spray on tan? Check. Vacant look with accompanying smirk? Check. General uselessness as a human being? Check. Leather and metal-studded arm band that went from wrist to elbow? Check.
Wait a second.
I know. I was thinking the same thing. Where does THAT garment come into play? I was so confused by this accessory, I had to follow him to see if I could make sense of it all. Here’s what I observed:
1. Seven utterings of the word “dope” as an adjective.
2. Two tonguey faces made at passing girls. Apparently he thought the Marky Mark and The Funky Bunch video for “Good Vibrations” was an instructional video.
3. Actually giving “attitude” to his shoelace by throwing his arms out to the sides and saying, “Yo. Whuz up with THAT?” when it came untied.
4. Me seriously contemplating just serving the damn jail time in exchange for hitting him in the back of the head with a rock. Or was it a coconut? Wait. It was a Pontiac. That’s right. A Pontiac to be followed shortly by forcing him off a bridge. Into water full of broken glass and floating diptheria. And sharks. With herpes.
Sadly, I came to no conclusion regarding this out of place garment. None. Am I missing something? What is it?! I HAVE TO KNOW.
You wanna know why people say life isn't fair? THIS IS WHY RIGHT HERE.
Maggie
I was walking in downtown Ft. Lauderdale, minding my own business while talking shit about most of you behind your backs, when I heard some horrid techno from the early 90’s coming closer and closer. I think it was actually “Planet Soul”, which makes it even more horrific, but the real horror hadn’t truly even begun yet. As the obnoxious sports car that was spewing this wretched crap got closer, I actually smelled the driver's cologne - FROM THE SIDEWALK.
He parked his assbag mobile and shuffled towards me with an exaggerated white boy “pimp limp” that made 50 Cent look like Andrew McCarthy in prep school on a tennis scholarship. He was wearing a nylon warm-up suit with the sleeves ripped off, exposing his assortment of barbed wire and pit bull tattoos. The top was zipped down to his belly button so he could flaunt his nipple rings and glittery chest. (I’m not kidding. There was glitter on it.) His camouflage-print hat was turned a notch to the side to show off his overly sculptured Jesse Metcalfesque eyebrows that framed his dullard eyes like caterpillars. In short, he looked so much like Kevin Federline that I found myself clutching my wallet and putting on a dress made of lead to protect my reproductive organs. Gucci tinted sunglasses at night? Check. Spray on tan? Check. Vacant look with accompanying smirk? Check. General uselessness as a human being? Check. Leather and metal-studded arm band that went from wrist to elbow? Check.
Wait a second.
I know. I was thinking the same thing. Where does THAT garment come into play? I was so confused by this accessory, I had to follow him to see if I could make sense of it all. Here’s what I observed:
1. Seven utterings of the word “dope” as an adjective.
2. Two tonguey faces made at passing girls. Apparently he thought the Marky Mark and The Funky Bunch video for “Good Vibrations” was an instructional video.
3. Actually giving “attitude” to his shoelace by throwing his arms out to the sides and saying, “Yo. Whuz up with THAT?” when it came untied.
4. Me seriously contemplating just serving the damn jail time in exchange for hitting him in the back of the head with a rock. Or was it a coconut? Wait. It was a Pontiac. That’s right. A Pontiac to be followed shortly by forcing him off a bridge. Into water full of broken glass and floating diptheria. And sharks. With herpes.
Sadly, I came to no conclusion regarding this out of place garment. None. Am I missing something? What is it?! I HAVE TO KNOW.
You wanna know why people say life isn't fair? THIS IS WHY RIGHT HERE.
Maggie
posted by the freakin hott at Monday, September 11, 2006
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home