rt@m part 5.

except it’s not midnight. or close to it. right at this moment it is an hour and thirty four minutes after midnight. aaah but who cares. lets just see what i come up with.

+i’m loving this 70 degree, winter weather texas is having. straight up lovin it.
+i haven’t taken a photo in a while. hold on, i’ll look it up & find out exactly when… twas 21 days ago. jeez.
+i hate peeing. it’s a waste of time. i could be doing something else. like not peeing.
+what would you do if someone wrapped your christmas gift in notebook paper? not even news paper.
+if my future bf/husband thinks that once he’s snagged me then he can just let himself go & eat bonbons all day, i will be all kinds of pissed (yes pissed comes in many different shapes & forms). & guys have every right to feel the same way about girls, too. i could elaborate as to why, but. nah.
+aaaaayeee! my jam (or whatever word you youngins (ha!) are using now’a days) just came on! hot thing by talib kweli.
+speaking of talib, i remember i first heard him in florida about 3 years ago. heard him on the radio, of all places. which is strange because the radio rarely plays good music. so i was like, “whaaaaa? who is THIS?! florida got that good radio!”
+i don’t like makeup. when i get around to it, i’ll wear eye liner & mascara. i just think i look a bit clown-ish when i put it on. i like watching people put it on, though, for some strange reason. some people can pull it off. then there are others. ooooh the others…
+i saw this one girl’s pictures on facebook… oh lawd. poor thing looked like she went bobbing for apples in a bucket of shadow, liner, glitter, fake lashes, lipstick, & a bunch of other goop. that apple must have been glued to the bottom of the bucket, because her FACE… goodness, her face. then she had the nerve to caption it with “HATE ON IT.” er something like that. bleh.
+when asked why mayweather sucks, some people use the excuse that he’s scared in the ring. all he does is run & dodge… i’m no boxing buff, but i’m preeeetty sure this isn’t street fighting. this is BOXING. the whole point is to hit & not get hit. “floyd, why you runnin?” BECAUSE THAT’S THE POINT. i could go on & on & on & on & on & on & on. then i could continue going on some more about mayweather. but i’ll save it. oooooh i’m fighting the urge to keep going [PAUSE] but i’ll save it.
+my mom once told my sister if she didn’t be quiet, she’d crack her scull open. & none of us even flinched. funny how being exposed to nigerian threats toughened us up a bit. if an american parent said that to his/her kid, CPS would be called immediately.
+i was pretty proud of myself for breaking my addiction to crackstick (also known as chapstick). i moved on to this other stuff called smooth lips, & coupled with some clear Victoria’s Secret lip gloss [shout out. PAY ME.], i was able to make it last longer without my having to reapply it every 10 minutes. but then i ran out of smooth lips. & relapsed into using crackstick. so FAIL for me.
+i’ve said it before, & i’ll say it again. i hate seeing pregnant ladies scarf down the world then follow it up with “i’m eating for two.” PLEASE, you can’t expect me to believe that unborn FETUS requires the portion sizes of an elephant. what DOES cause pregnant women to overeat, according to my mom, is something about hormones er something like that. so kids, if your mom’s a bit on the “pleasantly plump” side (as one would say in double speak), don’t let her guilt you into thinking it’s all you & those 9 month’s fault.

i’m done.

i. can’t. wait.

02.02.10

get it, lupe!

hahahaha

this never gets old.

it never gets old to me!

Nigerian Child Inc.

i came across this the other day, & i remember posting it on my old blog so i decided to put it here (btw, i think “blog” is a weird word. the sound, the spelling, that G at the end. i dunno. it’s weird to me. anyways-).
it was my essay for english comp. the topic was what’s the worst job you’ve ever had & why was it so bad. i’m clearly over exaggerating. i love being nigerian. no other race that i know of throws money at you for dancing (& you don’t have to be naked or on a pole to receive said money. haaaay). but, i had to meet a page requirement, so i stretched my feelings of hate a bit. other than that, it’s all pretty true. read on if you’d like.

Nigerian Child Inc.
Taking into account that I’m just eighteen days away from being, what a coincidence, eighteen, I think I’ve had a fair number of jobs in my day, and not all of these jobs have been pleasant. My very first job started when I was barely three; in 1994 my dad had the calling to become a pastor, and I have had an invisible “Hello! My name is: Pastor’s Kid” nametag permanently pinned to my shirt ever since. Having the job to be a perfect Christian example can be tiring, but it’s all worth it in the end. A couple years ago I worked as an office aid in a home health care office building. Don’t be fooled by the exciting title. Faxing doctors orders and dealing with countless attitudes of employees on payday wasn’t exactly rollercoaster-fun, but I couldn’t really complain once I had my check secured in my pocket. However, the job that trumps all jobs in the “worst job department” is hands down, without a doubt, being a Nigerian child.

“But Yvonne,” some might say, “being Nigerian isn’t really a job.” Oh yes, it most definitely is a job, and an unfair job, at that. I’ll start with pay; I won’t go as far to say that I don’t receive it, but with the work my fellow employees and I do daily, I can safely say I am overworked and underpaid. In a regular household, the boss/bosses, also known as the parent(s), assign duties to their employees, also known as the kids. These tasks may include cleaning the dishes and taking out the trash. In return for completing the assignment, the workers are paid with food, a place to sleep for the night, clothes to wear, and a ride to and from school every Monday through Friday. This is not so for an employee of Nigerian Child Inc. For example, after eating a meal, that the employees most likely helped make, the bosses will more often than not leave their empty plate at the table, and in the event that one of the employees leaves the plate sitting there, it is an immediate pay reduction. Forget sleeping that night. Yes, a house and a bed with sheets is provided, but after having a sit down meeting with the bosses that is filled with stories about how, “back home”, they used to break out in brawls to determine who “gets” to clean their parents’ dishes, how is one supposed to get an adequate amount of shut eye to get him through the following work day? If anyone knows the answer to this question, I’d surely like to know.

On top of all that, the work never ends. Never. Even when I attempt to escape to other Nigerian households, the work load comes tumbling down. I think the best way to explain this is to compare it to a regular job. Let’s say Tom works at Olive Garden in Mesquite, Texas. If Tom clocks out at 5:30 and decides to have dinner with some friends at the Olive Garden in Cedar Hill, Texas, he would be allowed to sit down, order the fettuccini alfredo, and enjoy his meal without interruptions. The manager of that particular restaurant won’t hand him a fannypak-styled apron and a notepad and tell him table four is getting low on drinks. This is not so with Nigerians. When I go to a different Nigerian place of work, I receive a new set of bosses with a new list of jobs that need to be done by none other than me. Whether it is watching the new bosses’ rambunctious children or passing out food to the other bosses there, the workload, no matter where the location, is always immense.

Needless to say, being a Nigerian child is tiring. Actually, I think exhausting would be a more fit term for the job, but it’s one of those jobs that I’ve decided I should just get comfortable living with (as if I had a choice). Now excuse me; I think I left my boss’s plate on the table.

JOSIAH LEMING.

for those who KNOW me, know me, you know i HATE american idol. i think that show has ran it’s course. just. DIE already. goodness. but one good thing that came from that show is Josiah Leming.
i remember watching him audition during whatever season that was. & he was the only one i liked. the performance that stayed with me is when he did a cover of mika’s “grace kelly”. for all you LAZY, IMPATIENT BUMS (i hate you btw) start at :58 if you can’t wait that long to hear him actually sing.

so after that, i was like, “oh this kid’s GOT it! if he makes it through, i will watch this show every week!” well, now i have a american-idol-can-die attitude about the show, so you can guess what happened.
that was back iiiinnn 08? i think? i wonder what he’s up to now…

PERSONALLY,

I shave year round. “but why, yvonne? dont you wear pants during the winter anyways?” why yes, I most definitely do. you couldn’t pay me to wear shorts in this weather (pssst. you actually can. if you’re interested, contact me immediately. like, NOW-ish would be fine). so why do I do it? because I’m PARANOID.

yup, that’s right. paranoid. I dunno why my brain thinks the way it does, but here’s a situation I’ve played in my mind. possibly more than once:

ME: [walking to car & singing to self] yeeeeeaaaahhh its a party in the USAAAA!
[trips & falls on a knife that pierces through leg]
ME: hmmm. lil blood. nothing I can’t handle!
[paramedics rush over. they have to snip my pants with scissors to administer first aid.
PARAMEDIC: woah. haven't shaved in a while I see.
ME: [can't handle it. I die.]

BASICALLY I always think “what if”. even if it doesn’t make any sense. “what if they have a roll up your pants competition at school where the winner gets 684379 TRILLION dollars?” makes no sense, buuut just in case one day it happens, *points thumbs to self* will be prepared.
its the same reason people wear jackets to disguise those chalky elbows. some people don’t like being ashy, I prefer not to stay prickly. even if I can mask it with pants.

& yeeess, I realize this is CRAZY random… meh. i think the later it gets, the stranger my thoughts become. er actually, the more willing i am to SHARE said thoughts. it’s 3:30am. I might regret this when I wake up… oh well. we’ll see. goodnight/morning.

checkit.

their names are Kalan Briggs & Derek Tankersley, & i must admit. their taste in music is outrageous. plus i like the video.

my bad.

ive noticed that twitter has become more of a blog for me than my actual BLOG blog… blog. ahem, anywho, I’m blaming it on my getting this phone. it makes tweeting so much easier with all the apps for it. & WORDPRESS has been slacking in the app department.
HOOOOWEVER I’m trying out this app (on it right now) that’ll hopefully help. if not. well. I tried.
so! what should you be expecting? uuuh probably more short posts. lil bursts of thought as they come, like pudding is stomach wrenching. stuff like that. but hopefully more interesting.
welp, that’s it. have a good day if that’s what you’re in the mood for.
-mUWAHaha

sore losers.

finally. some good music from dallas. *sigh*

Track List:
1. The Deadly Intro
2. 8587 (Birthday)
3. 1000 Zombies Marching
4. Black Sheep
5. Dope
6. Cooler Than Coach K (ft. Blue The Great)
7. Skit 1 – Berries N Cream
8. Favorite (ft. George Young)
9. Everywhere We Go (ft. Kendrick Lamar)
10. Super Villian Music (ft. CaLaura)
11. Audio Bio
12. Skit 2 – Queef Action
13. As I Wander
14. Free Loaders
15. Loner Daze
16. Bullseye
17. Weekend Warrior (Interlude)
18. Je Suis Le Vent (ft. Killa MC)
19. Solutions
20. The Epic Outro

DOWNLOAD IT.