Monday, November 30, 2009
I ain't buggin over the stereotypes go-go dancers get, I've heard 'em all and I break 'em all. Dance half nekkid inside a cage at the club and ur bound to get judged, it comes with the territory. That ain't my beef. My beef is with these so-called conscious daughters that wanna get all righteous on a mufucka as if they're better than the next woman. Preaching about sisterhood and how we should support one another ... yet are so quick to talk shit about sumthn they don't understand. Berating to the masses how we should think outta the box ... but stone those who dance on top of one. Like damn, did a go-go dancer run over ur puppy?
Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. I'm not offended by the shit I hear 'cuz I know yall little girls ain't talkin bout me. But there are ways to NOT support something and get ur ideals across without talking shit about the opposition. If go-go dancers are sorry excuses for women ... is talking shit about them, judging them, and teaching other girls to hate them setting a better example?
Whatever. YOU need to worry about why ur man cheated on u for 3 years and ur the only one that doesn't know about it, and YOU need to check ur last Halloween costume 'cuz u wearin just about as much clothing as I am in this flic. Womp womp. Congratulations, yall just got verbally raped by this skank-ass, low class, unintelligent (ex) go-go dancer.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
- Purse - Metal trim shoulder bag from F21 $25.80. Perfect for times when u need to get down to business and need to use both hands like airport checkpoints and Black Friday madness.
- Vintage flat top flora accent sunglasses from Bleudame.com $16.80 - my favorite pair at the moment!
- Guess? Wallet - Which I've had for years now so I don't remember how much it cost, and am too lazy to replace it. Filled with more receipts than money FOR SURE and FOR SHAME.
- International Auto Show tickets - 1 for Christian, 1 for Mike, 1 for Cat, and 1 for decoration lol.
- Fafi makeup bag - Totally unnecessary but too cute to NOT get. Inside I have Carmex, MAC lipstick in Mauvellous, and the best lip gloss ever made by C&O Bigelow.
- Johnson & Johnsons baby lotion - 'Cuz we keeps it classy not ashy.
- Hello Kitty compact - Which I use to make sure I ain't got shit in between my teef,or runny eyeliner.
- My G1 phone - I've gone through 4 in 1 year, making this one Sir Lloyd Banks IV. Yes, I name my electronics.
- Keys - To my moms, my car, my moms car, my house, and my ex's house. I should probably give those back.
- Name badge - With my picture that I covered with stolen floss 'cuz I look like an idiot wearing a hat in my work picture.
- Crazy Pill case - From Rach when she visited Kitson in L.A. Inside u'll find the entire drugstore: birth control, Nyquil, Sudafed, Vitamins, Benedryl, and Tylenol.
- Hello Kitty tissue - 'Cuz if ur gonna do sumth'n gross like blow snot outta ur nose u might as well attempt to look cute while doing it.
- Lastly, in true "Hi I'm Abi and I'm a fat-ass" tradition, a bottle of Furikake straight from Hawaii. I carried a bottle last year from Gail but then ran out. So when I got another bottle I made sure to keep it handy 'cuz u just never know when u'll need to sprinkle some on ur food. Furikake makes everything tastes better!
Friday, November 27, 2009
- I am extremely proud to say that I beat last years record by 1.5 plates having annihilated 5 plates and 2 dessert plates with only 1 short break in between plate 4 and 5 to take shots with the cousins. I love being Filipino because it means we get "American" and Filipino dishes at parties! Here's what plate 2 consisted of: salad, brocolli and cheese pilaf, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, roast beef, turkey w/ gravy, stuffing, white rice, and ampalaya w/ shrimp and ground beef. The rest of the feast consisted of escabeche (sweet and sour fish, tastes so much better than it sounds), lumpia (of course), adobo, lechon, mechada, leche flan, bibingka pie, puto w/ CHEESE (ness u hear that?), some other fish dish that I have no idea what the name is, deviled eggs, and yams.
- 1 shot of Henn, 1 shot of Johnny Walker Black label (DISGUSTING!), 1 cup of Henn and Coke, and 1 cup of Henn and Sparkling Cidar (my new fave way to drink Henn) later, I swear I owned the magic mic! Gail if ur reading this, u better have that shit on deck if u want me to sing at u and Gayson's wedding!
- I have never used Twitter and Facebook so much in my life until yesterday.
- This Saturday the Moscone Center is holding San Francisco's 52nd annual International Auto Show. I've went to 3 so far, this year will be my 4th and I can't wait! Sometimes I wish I had a father to go to all these things to. Maybe then I'd actually know wtf I'm looking at lol. This year I'm looking forward to seeing the Academy of Arts classic car collection. Rawr MUSCLE at it's flyest. If ur attending come support my Hellz fam and check out the MAV fashion show.
- Then, afterwards its off to the Warriors x Lakers game. I know our team is falling apart, but I'll still be there belligerent as hell talkin shit 'till the buzzer sounds!
- HOW THE FUCK DID I LOSE MY WTFORKS?! FANG-BANGER NECKLACE? SO FOR SHAME.
- After work today I'm supposed to go with the folks to watch the tree lighting ceremony at Union Square. I got 5 on it I leave looking like a hot mess of eyeliner streaks.
- Lastly, like I mentioned in my previous post, once Thanksgiving's done it's pretty much a downward spiral for me. Christmas and New Years are a total bummer. If I could, I'd lock myself in my room until both days were over. This year will be an especially hard one. But just know that despite my rants of holiday depression I do appreciate LIFE and all those in mine who make it even just a little bit worth living. I read ur comments yesterday and was once again reminded of how blessed I am.
- Just last week my uncle got diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and is starting chemo Monday, so there was definitely a somber undertone amidst all the karaoke going on. Thanksgiving was definitely bitersweet. But luckily, the newest addition to our clan, Isaiah, made his debut leaving a smile on my uncle's face - which left a smile on everyone else's. I know Thanksgiving is over, but it's not too late and never inconvenient to be thankful for the people u love. I'm definitely thankful for these 2 little rugrats right here: My 11-month cousin Logan (aka Wolverine. trip his older brother's name is Xavier aka Professor X. I told their dad if they have a girl they gotta name her Aurora (aka Storm). And my 1 month old 'lil boo boo Isaiah in his formal button up and fall ensemble. Doesn't he look like he fell asleep on the phone? LOL.
What did YOU do for Thanksgiving?
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Currently, 5 of my friends are all dating men/boys younger than them, with the newest member of CFC (Cougars for a Cause) being 28 and her cub being 23 - leaving a 5 year age gap, the same as me and my ex. Now seeing as the recently wedded Mariah Carey and Nick Cannon are 10 years apart, 5 doesn't seem so bad anymore (at least that's what I tell myself).
However, the irony of it all is when I was younger I dated older men. 7 years older at one point to be exact. When I was in college, I would never give the time of day to my friends little brother and his friends because they were 19 when I was 21. And God forbid I even considered dating a junior when I was a senior in high school. That would've been social suicide! He's 16? I'm 17? He might as well have been an embryo. Yet nowadays, I consider 26-29 to be pretty much the same age. I always thought it was funny how the older people get - the slimmer the age gap seems to be. For instance; 18 and 23 sounds so much worse than 32 and 37.But perhaps nobody knows this best than my very own mother, who be pullin 'em like Gabrielle Solis aka Eva Longoria in Desperate Housewives. At 48 she has said that the oldest she'd go for was 44. Yes I'll give u a few seconds to read that over again, it's coo. Reason being, she wants to be taken care of and not financially 'cuz although my mama ain't rich she holds her own. But basically, she ain't tryna give her man no damn sponge baths and shit. Lately, Ive been getting approached by much younger guys as well, but the reason I gave the last one a chance was because I just felt more comfortable around him than with his older male counterparts. This is a general statement as well. 'Cuz if I don't need to act like an adult, I won't. I want a cotton-candy machine and bouncey-house at my next birthday party for crying out loud! If a 33-year old man who was interested in me knew this, I feel like he'd adopt me as a kid instead of have me as a girlfriend.
However, it's still no wonder some women are hesitant in engaging in cougariffic relationships. Off bat, the man is looked at as a pimp and the woman like a ... well ... a cougar! Usually, (not always) the dude gets the good end of the deal: props from his boys, an experienced woman, stability, a trophy wife, a house to have sex in instead of a dorm room, etc. etc. Whereas all the cougar would get from her man is: stamina.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Am I a man-hater because I wrote about how I have penis envy? Perhaps it was the blog about how to be a good wing-woman to your best guy friend? Or mmmaybe it was my 500 Days of Summer post where I broke the vagina code and blatantly professed every woman's genuine longing to be in love? It's kind hard to hate on men, when my closest friends are chorizo toters.
Oh. I know ...
It must be the fact that I encourage everyone (not just women) to be alone but not lonely. It's because I suggest having dreams, and goals that no horrible break up or even wonderful relationship can get in the way of. It's because I'm honest, but considerate. Brash, but sensitive. Nasty, but a lady. Fair and understanding but allergic to incompetence. Because ultimately, I encourage readers to be individuals before attempting to "complete someone else" and vice versa.
Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Just because I don't tolerate ignorance and immaturity from anyone - it doesn't mean I'm a man-hater. It simply means I'm a bull-shit hater. Now if the word "bull shit" is synonymous to the word "men" in ur book ... well then maybe you have the issue not me. If anything, I'm looking out for the well being of the fellas just as much as the females. Because when I tell the ladies not to act all crazy and shit, it's ur smashed headlights, slashed tires, and broken windows lives I'm saving.
I do not claim I know everything, I only speak from experience. Whether it be of mistakes, conquests, heart ache, or bliss. If this voice is too loud, don't turn me down. Turn to the next station. I'm not on ur side. But I'm not on hers either. I try to remain as neutral as possible. However, I'm also aware that as much as "one of the boys" I am, I was born with this thing called estrogen that makes me cry during sad movies and squeal at the sight of a walk in closet.
One day I actually went through old posts (and good God I need a "search" option on this bitch) and tried to find something that screamed "I HATE PENIS!" but came up empty handed. So if u still think I'm a "man-hater" it's probably because ur insecure, controlling, and have an inferiority complex. Which in that case, u have nothing to worry about. U probably aren't a real "man", so I wouldn't hate u anyway.
Thanks to Ne-Yo and Webbie, Miss Independent's are seen as women who can handle their own, like to front the bill, and don't need help from men. They push Benz's, have $10k+ credit card limites, and got a mortgage to pay. Unfortunately, that's not me. Nice goal to work towards though. But in my case, I'm sinply - Miss Understood. So let me break it down one last time:
I am a hopeless romantic. I am utterly inspired by the thought of being being in love with someone ala Bella and Edward, I'm just sayin love urself too. I believe in catering to ur man because they deserve it. And treating him like a King because u are his Queen. I don't want to wear the pants in the relationship. I want to be able to wear a mini-skirt without my man threatening to break up with me because of it.
SO DON'T GET IT TWISTED.
I may ask for alone time, but that doesn't mean I don't want u in my life.
I may want to have girl days, but u'd be the only man I spend my nights with.
I may deny ur help sometimes, but I am still more than grateful that u offered.
I may not be afraid to speak my mind, but I won't be afraid to tell you I love you either.
And I may not need u in my life, but what matters is I want u to be.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
OK 1) I don't know about u but calculus problems DO NOT LOOK EASY TO ME.
and 2) FUCK YOU NINO! But thanks ... I think?
See, the thing is ... yah, I may have been a go-go dancer, and I may have dressed and posed provocatively in photoshoots. And I may also think I fuck like a porn star and have a dirtier mouth (not to mention mind) than most of my boys. But when it really comes down to it? For lack of better words - I'm a pussy.
I was reading a post on The Boobs a while back regarding ONS (One Night Stands) and they said the following, "We've all had the pleasure of enduring a one night stand. To those of you shaking your head "NO", you're either lying or a prude." I swear I never wanted to be a liar so bad in my life. It's not that I'm a prude either - no really, I SWEAR (Nino shut that shit up, I can hear u talkin head all the way over here). Honestly, I've just never met someone that I was soooooo attracted to on the spot that I wanted to fuck 'em in the back closet right then and there. Alas, I've never had fuck at first sight. *Le sigh* And even if I did, I'd probably be too scared to so much as breathe in the same sexy direction as them.
Now I know having a ONS isn't exactly something to brag about ... nor be proud of, but ... dammit to hell it makes a nice story to tell the grandkids! I mean shit, can I live a little? While nothing maybe more exhilirating than jumping out of an airplane from hundreds of feet in the air, stealing and then flooring a SSC Ultimate Aero, going buckwild on a M249 in the dessert, or tippy-toeing on the edge of the Devil's Pool at Victoria Falls, a ONS is my make-believe sexual equivalent. It's quick (errr but let's hope not that quick), painless (errr but let's hope it hurts so good), and best of all there's no room for error. No time to catch feelins. No time to so much as learn a name.
Sounds promising doesn't it? So why again haven't I partook in this popular American past time yet?
'Cuz I'm paranoid: Sure, the dude ur dancing with that has a hard on looks like Pooch Hall but who knows how many ugly friends he got at the hotel room waiting to gang-bang ur ass.
'Cuz u never meet dudes that look like Pooch Hall in real life: Especially not in Vegas, only douchebag Gotti Boy lookalikes.
'Cuz I'm a pussy: DUHHH.
So I guess I'll just day-dream about taking bird baths in strange hotel bathrooms and walks of shame down the Venetian hallway, and continue to live vicariously through my whore-friends (or READERS! lol. Seriously, feel free to drop ur best (or worst) ONS story here or email me if u scary. I'd lurrrve to hear em :).
Monday, November 16, 2009
1) The good girl decides that she wants to be a heartless, gold diggin, slut, or
2) The nice guy decides that he to wants to be a chauvenistic, asshole "pimp".
I hate to break it to u, but unless u already had all that shit in you, this plan never fails to FAIL. And I ain't even gonna front, I know this story all too well ...Case #1
"Sheila" gets burned. Bad. So she tries the "booty call" thang out. Follows all the rules, keeps text messages to a minimum. Only goes out at night. No affection in public. And when some action does go on, she makes sure they're outta bed and on their way home before sunrise. But then. BUT THENNNN the dude asks her out to the movies and just like that, she gets caught up. "But I thought we're not supposed to hold hands or kiss or go out when there's still light out?" she thinks to herself. Deep down inside she knows she ain't made for booty-calls, so this simple movie gesture throws a monkey wrench in the whole operation. She doesn't like this guy, she just likes the fact that's he's there. They have nothing in common, but because she's trying to fill a void her ex left, she pretends they do. At the end of the day, she's lied to herself, to her friends, and feels even worse because the void is bigger than it was before.
"Ronald" is a "nice guy." And all that usually means in most cases is; he doesn't cheat on women. But just like "Sheila," he got burned. On several occasions to be exact. And he thinks to himself, "See nice guys DO finish last! I don't need to be another girls "best friend" I have enough!" And so he vows to be an "asshole." And all that usually means in most cases is; "I parts with nothin, yall be frontin, me give my heart to a woman? Not for nothin, never happen, I be forever mackin. Heart cold as assasins, I gots no passion. I gots no patience and I hate waitin ..." But alas Ronald is not Jay-Z, and nowhere near being an asshole either. Instead, he just comes off as a jack-ass to all his friends who know the real "Ronald".
The thing is, "u can't be a hard rock when u really are a gem" (L-Boogie preach). I promise. I tried. And I remember having a convo with my homie Jodobo back in 2003ish about how I wish I could just use dudes, and fuck around. And he basically said that he rather have me get hurt than sacrifice all the things that made me beautiful. (Joe, we haven't touched base in a MINUTE, but I will always remember and love you for these words.) Now at the time I wanted to punch him in his fucking face for feeding me a bunch of booshit lol. But after I attempted to go that Jezzebel route, and successfully FAILED at it, I knew he had been right all along.
It's not that I couldn't have a dude pay for my rent and fly me out to Miami in exchange for some fake affection and attention (if I really, really, really tried 'cuz I'm really, really, really bad at that stuff lol) - it's just that even if I could live with myself for doing that - I'd never forgive myself for it. And it's not that dudes don't front to females to keep their beds warm at night, or lead them on with false pretsenses of a "relationship" to string 'em along, but if they just ain't that type of dude, shit will get old fast. And ladies, don't be fooled. Even the Mike Lawry's in the game get lonely. Men get just as lonely as females do. Now there is the exception like my homie Cat pointed out, "Some people just change because they feel they need to change. And they never change back, they just become asses." This is true, and I'm aware of it but I believe for the most part that just like u can't change another person - a person cannot change themselves and who they are over night. SHIT. I wish it was that easy.
So ladies, before u book that fuckfest flight to Vegas ... and fellas, before u pretend to like that receptionist at your sisters job who's had a crush on u for months now ... before u both go and "sacrifice the very things that make u beautiful," remember: You can't turn a hoe into a housewife, so what makes u think u can do anything else?
Thursday, November 12, 2009
- Been feeling not as awesome as I should be feeling lately. But at least I have this to look forward to. I hope he brings it back to Reasonable Doubt. I may just pee on myself when he performs Encore, Star is Born, and Empire State of Mind though. Yall already know the entire audience is gonna think they're Alicia Keys in that bitch. Mrs. FD and Pot, I can't wait! Ga-Ga next month (i still hate STUB HUB but more on that later) and then Hov in March. Thank God for music. It's so official, all we need is a whistle (yes Cheryl I totally yanked that shit offa ur FB lol)
- It's hard to wait around for something you know might never happen, But it's even harder to give up when you know it's everything you've ever wanted"~Unknown
- Exactly 1 week and 4 hours until L.A. and NEW MOON omg omg omg
- Currently addicted to this:
- To do list: Get back to the gym, room makeover, and SAVE SAVE SAVE
- Hate hate HATE Christmas. Always have, always will.
- Totally kicking myself in my ass for not going to Vegas this weekend. Totally watching this fight with my eyes closed ... like every fight of Pac-Mans. I can't help it.
- Am I the only one buggin over the weather? I mean I love me some PR wether but IT'S FUCKING NOVEMBER. People be thinking global warmings a joke I swear.
- And lastly, a special 2001 throwback courtesy of Rach's Hellz post here. Let's see in 2001, I was in college, I was just starting my downward spiral of credit card debt, I was working at the bank, I WASN'T getting along with my mom, I was in love, I think I just got my car or was about to get it, I WASN'T 21 yet, and I almost idolized Alicia Keys, (again, pre-Swizz-Mashonda-Gate) I couldn't believe that someone MY AGE was so beautiful, so intelligent, and so talented. So yes, I rocked the scarf with fitted cap .... aaaaaand I can thankfully say that with the exception of my lipstick I looked pretty much the same as I do here :)
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
"Pretty Girls Don't Cry"
I remember reading that headline on a "Pretty Girl's" MySpace page before, and I wanted so bad to agree with it. But as I've learned by obsessing over the lives of countless beautiful women, not only do they cry - they sometimes cry more.
They cry because people look at them and think, "She musn't have any problems in the relationship department." They cry because they are placed on such a high pedastal that is supposed to make them incapable of getting their heart broken. They cry because everyone expects them to bounce so quick from one relationship and onto the other.
They cry because everyone seems to think that they can have any man they want - and while they know that there is some truth to it, they cry because the only man they want doesn't want them.
They cry because their personality gets overlooked by their physical appearance. They cry because their looks get strereotyped. They cry because sometimes they wish they weren't so cute so they wouldn't have to worry about passing by a bunch of drunk men alone at night. They cry because other females tend to hate on what they don't understand.
They cry because no matter how much their friends say, "Girl she ain't got nothin on you," she obviously does because he chose HER and not YOU.
They cry because no matter how much work they put into something, they'll always be seen as the cute girl in class or the hot chick on the 2nd floor. They cry because people place such an emphasis on their looks that they're scared to disapoint them. They cry because they feel like they're not supposed to, like they can't, like it's wrong. They cry because they start to believe what people tell them and think, "Why the hell am I crying?"
They cry because when they look in the mirror, they hate what they see and can't seem to find that "pretty girl" that everyone thinks doesn't cry.
Which brings me to todays tasty treat for the ladies. (Sorry fellas, don't hate just yet. Yall are next. Besides, I've posted waaaay more pics of hot chicks on my blog.) Derwin Davis aka Pooch Hall plays a rookie San Diego Sabers football player as well as Melanie (Tia Mowry or was it Tamara? SHIT) Burnett's love interest on the show. Yall aren't gonna believe me when I say this man is just BEAUTIFUL 'cuz he is sooooo not photogenic. Kinda bug eyed in fact. But man, on the show? Live in action? He's just the right mix of adorable and sexual chocolate.
God. OK. Now that I've actually looked thru his pics online. I definitely wouldn't look at him twice judging by pics alone. But ladies I beg of u, watch him on the show. Make it an episode where he's not wearing a shirt. U can thank me later!
And now I change my mind. I might as well make this a double hitter since a bunch of pics of Tia Mowry showed up during my Pooch Hall search, I might as well add her to this post considering how GORGEOUS she grew up to be. I bet Marques Houston is wishin he hollared at old Sister Sister now.
Monday, November 9, 2009
No matter what time of day, the location, if ur on the receiving end or not, or the reason. They just suck. Period point blank.
But sometimes, they're especially hard.
Like when u've built friendships from them so genuine that u'd go to the game with his boys even though he can't make it, and ur girls hit him up directly with birthday celebration invites instead of using u as a middleman. Or when u've gotten so close to their parents u become the newest addition on their X-Mas shopping list and u still call them every mothers day and fathers day.
Because not only are u breaking up with them - but ur also breaking up with their friends, their parents, their relatives, their co-workers, their favorite hang out spots, their annual ski trips, and in some cases even their pets too. So in addition to having to go through that heart wrenching break-up speech with the Mr. or Mrs., u have to give the apologetic explanation to the parentals. The embarassing shrugs to the relatives when u bump into them at Safeway and they ask where "so and so" is. And the uneasy hugs and "walkin on eggshells" small talk conversations when u see their friends at the club as well.
It's hard. U think to urself, "They're my friends too!" but the reality of it is ... they were his/hers first. And I know that sounds mad petty, but sometimes u just gotta let them have that. If they're really ur friend, they'll remain ur friend. Just don't be naive - never forget where their loyalty lies. Never use the friendship as an excuse to keep ties with ur ex. And don't go thinking it'll be a smooth ride either. 'Cuz depending on the intensity of the breakup, more than likely u'll have to go cold turkey. As much as u love ur ex's friends and fam it makes the healing proccess that much harder and that much more painful to keep 'em in the picture.
So just think of it a reminder as to why u can't lose urself in ur relationships, no matter how much u love the other person, or how long yall have been together. Of why u always have to have that one thing, or shit - those 7 things in ur life that no one in the whole wide world can take away from u. And of why u can't forget your friends who were there for u before, during, and after every relationship gone bad.
While it may hurt to have to cut people out like that, it's what's necessary sometimes. And if they're really, really ur friends they'll totally understand. After a while, things will get better and u can slowly allow these people back into ur life. Whether it be an instant message here and there or as simple as a RT on Twitter . And if they're really, really, really ur friend - yall should be able to pick up right where u left off.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
"Beer taste like Earth if you beg to differ come see me"~Hayati
DIFFER DIFFER DIFFER DAMMIT!
OK, fine. So it's made of shit like hops ... yeast ... barley ... wheat ... and all sorts of other "Earthly" ingredients but I swear after the 3rd, 4th, or 7th try it stops tasting like liquid dirt and starts tasting like sheer awesomeness. People who aren't avid beer drinkers are probably thinking, "What in the fuck does sheer awesomeness taste like?"
But beer lovers far and wide know that a nice, frosty, mug of beer and Monday night football (Warriors game for me 'cuz yall know I don't speak football) is an excellent way to wind down after a long day at work. We know that an overpriced beer in a collectible plastic cup is the perfect accompanyment to a sheboygen hot-dog and garlic fries at AT&T Park (goooo Giants!). And we also know that there is sooo much more to life (and so much better quality) than just Corona.
I remember the very time I drank my first beer like it was just yesterday. And I'm talkin an entire bottle, not just a sip, not just a taste. I was at a fashion show at a loft off of the 6th St. exit with my girl Chiara, and not even being 21 yet we HAD to have been the youngest people there. We didn't know anyone, and I felt more than awkward. So what do I do when I feel uncomfortable? EAT OF COURSE. As I was raiding the chips and dip in the kitchen I noticed a sink filled with ice and Heineken. So me and Chi were like, "Hey why not?" Our boyfriends drink it and they seem pretty normal.
First sip: Yah this stuff tastes as digusting as the first time I tried it.
Second sip: Still gross.
Third sip: Can we just go home now so I don't have to keep pretending to enjoy this beer?
Fourth sip: WTF isn't shit supposed to gradually taste better?
Fifth sip: I guess not.
Then before u know it, I was done. Totally lying, I think I drank half the bottle at the most and then grabbed a Coke. So I will say that beer is definitely an acquired taste, but once acquired becomes almost an obsession at barbecues and bowling alleys. No matter who u are, there's a special beer out there for u. Budweiser got the Billy-Bobs covered and u already know O-Dog keeps his Old E still in the brown paper bag. There's also a beer for every occasion. I can't go to Hooters without ordering some Blue Moon, or go to a sushi spot without doing sake bombs into a glass of Saporro. Some of my faves are Guinness, Hefeweizen, 21st Amendments Watermelon Wheat, Stella Artois, and what do ya know - Heineken. However, I love anything u can stick an orange or lemon wedge in, tastes naturally fruity, or looks like chocolate. I don't discriminate!
So now as I sit here recalling that first Heineken story, I'm totally scolding myself for wasting precious "life juice." FOR SHAME! How dare I when beer is a gift from the Gods?! No, seriously. A prayer to the goddess Ninkasi dating back to the 6th millenium BC served as a way for those who weren't literate to remember the recipe for beer.
Um hellooooo, haven't u heard of the saying, "God made dirt and dirt don't hurt?" Well there u go.
And now some of the best contributions to life beer has inspired:
Box office hits:
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
However, one thing that will never look good on someone no matter how steezy the chick is or how much swag the dude got is INSECURITY.
Just like the right amount of confidence can have women throwing their panties at the "ok" looking dude at the bar, the wrong amount of insecurity can make a Brad Pitt look down right ugly. And even if u have long, shiny hair, glowing skin, curves for days, and are 5'9", if ur insecure no matter what type of front u put up, deep down inside u'll still feel ugly.
I never had insecurity issues ... until the day I got my heart broken. After that, whenever a relationship turned sour I automatically assumed it was my fault. Because I wasn't smart enough. I wasn't pretty enough. I didn't give head enough. I wasn't talented enough. I wasn't rich enough. I wasn't athletic enough. I wasn't good enough. I JUST WASN'T ENOUGH.
However, I never saw just how ugly insecurity was until I was on the other end of it. What it comes down to is trust. I don't tolerate insecurity and all the false accusations and ludacris assumptions that come with it because I want to wear the pants in the relationship and have the freedom to wild the fuck out. I don't tolerate it because I deserve TRUST. Without trust, well u don't have much.
Insecurity might as well double as shrooms, because I swear it makes u start hallucinatin. It'll have u swearin u just saw ur man sittin shotty on the freeway with some breezy driving and just when u get home to yalls spot ready to burn all his clothes in the tub u find him snoring on the couch with drool on his pillow. It'll have u blowin up ur girls cell phone 37 times in 10 mins because she didn't answer ur phone this ONE time. And of alllll the possible reasons why i.e. she's sleeping, she doesn't have reception, she's driving and doesn't want to die, she didn't hear her phone, her battery died - of course she didn't answer because she's secretly fucking ur best friend. Afterall, that's y she passed the bread to him first at dinner last night right?
Might sound crazy, but it's unfortunately not too far-fetched for some. You see, it's one thing to get cheated on or have an actual valid reason to be checkin ur girls call log or lookin thru ur mans pockets when he gets home after the club. But one of the worse things u can do to ruin a perfectly good thing is let ur insecurity fuck up what could've been a beautiful relationship, especially when the problem lies within urself and not ur partner. And y on Earth would u get in the way of ur own happiness? That's never a good look and more unflattering than anything Christian Audigier's ever made. Well, except for this.