This lovely poem was sent to me by my friend Laurie who unfortunately lives in Connecticut.
Float On is an R&B oldie sung by The Floaters. The four singers are talking about what they like in a woman. The lyrics appear to be straightforward, but I’ve thought about it and have come to the conclusion that the lyrics are not quite complete. The real meaning appears to have been left out, but I have broken the code.
Ralph likes a woman who loves her freedom and can hold her own. What he really means is I hope you love your freedom cause you’re going to have a lot of it. I’m not going to be around much, so you’re going to need to hold things down until I feel like coming around.
Charles likes a woman who’s quiet and carries herself like Miss Universe. What he really means is I really don’t want to hear you talking. Speak when spoken to, don’t have any kind of personality, and please carry yourself like some stuck-up beauty pageant contestant.
Paul likes all women of the world and sees all women as wild flowers . What he really means is he’s a ‘ho’. He likes/wants any and all women and intends to pick as many ‘wild flowers’ as he can.
Larry likes a woman who loves everything and everybody
because he loves everybody and everything. This one should be very clear. Larry is the Freak of the Week. He loves everything and everybody? He has no taste, no discrimination. He just does everybody and everything [to and with everybody] . And he wants his woman to be the same way? Some serious ‘et cetera’ going on at Larry’s crib.
So if you fit that description, if you understand what they’re saying, if you feel that is you, then by all means Float On. Aah Hah-ahh-ahh.
The abundance of social media sites and outlets could be responsible for the decrease in the number of those awful, forwarded-a-thousand-times e-mail jokes, chain letters, and challenges to prove your friendship, show your love for Jesus, etc. I received one in 2008 that made me grind my teeth. I could no longer hold my peace or keep my annoyance to myself, so I sent this e-mail to that person and everyone else I heard from regularly in my address book.
Let me preface this (because some of you may get your feelings hurt) by saying most of you I love, others not so much. This is not a joke, but remember what they say about people who can’t take one.
The straw that broke the camel’s back arrived in my e-mail inbox recently and I can’t be silent any longer. I have a very special request I would like to share. I’m just venting to some of you, and others of you know that this shoe fits.
Please keep your politics, your patriotism, and your religion to yourself. And I mean this in the kindest, most respectful way.
Don’t tell me to vote or remind me to vote. I believe it is condescending, a bit arrogant, and generally very annoying for anyone to do so. I am an intelligent person and I have figured out what is going on this November, specifically on the 4th.
Don’t tell me, or even suggest to me how I should vote. See the 2nd and 3rd sentences in the above paragraph.
Don’t send me another e-mail about anything that tells me to forward it or pass it on. You are not the boss of me. And I’m telling you now that I won’t do it. If you don’t want your chain-chain-chain of foolishness broken, then don’t send it to me.
Your e-mails about God and Jesus, with that “if you love Jesus/God you’ll forward this” threat? If you don’t know for sure what I believe, I will tell you this – I don’t believe the fellas are laid back sippin’ on gin and juice, making a list and checking their e-mail twice to see who wasn’t guilted or shamed by their so-called friends into forwarding their e-mail. See the previous paragraph.
A brief note about e-mail forwarding etiquette: please respect everyone’s privacy and delete all e-mail addresses when you forward. Or, you can cut and paste the message into a new e-mail. If I have to click on more than one forward, I’m not going to open it.
And before you forward another one of those BS urban legend e–mails about hearing babies cry outside your front door or smelling perfume being sold by a hustler in the parking lot, do your research. Check it out at www.snopes.com or www.truthorfiction.com or www.urbanlegends.about.com or www.hoaxbusters.com. Or just go to your favorite search engine, but stop going for the okey-doke.
What I would welcome and appreciate is a really funny joke (A priest, a rabbi, a minister, and a Buddhist monk walk into a bar, and the bartender says, “What is this, a joke?”) or a personal e-mail (with pics if you have them) written by you telling me what is going on in your life.
Please feel free to cut and paste any part of this if you feel the need to send a similar note to anyone. If you are offended or upset, so am I every time I read and delete those kinds of e-mails from you. Please think before you forward; be sure you know your audience; and don’t make me block your e-mail. Cause I’ll do it, damn it. I’ll do it.
Love ya like a play cousin,
I still get those e-mails once in a while. And I see similar kinds of messages on Facebook from some of those same people, although they are not as blatant and don’t come as frequently. Now, we have the never-ending invitations to play those ridiculous Facebook games. So, stop inviting me to play. Don’t make me unFriend you, cause I’ll do it, damn it. I’ll do it.
Love y’all like Play Cousins.
I was looking for something else when I came across this list. It was one of the very few good forwarded e-mail jokes I used to get. Thankfully most people have stopped forwarding that crap, because most of it was crap and it just wasn’t funny. The best ones I got came from Mattie and Laurie, and this one was pretty good. It was originally nine items, but I had to add my own Peeve (#7) to the list.
- People who point at their wrist while asking for the time. I know where my watch is, Pal. Where the hell is yours? Do I point at my crotch when I ask where the toilet is?
- People who are willing to get off their ass to search the entire room for the TV remote, but they refuse to walk to the TV and change the channel manually.
- When people say, “Oh, you just want to have your cake and eat it too.” Damn right! What good is cake if you can’t eat it?
- When people say, “It’s always the last place you look.” Of course it is. Why the hell would you keep looking after you’ve found it? Do people do this? Who and where are they? Gonna kick their asses!
- When people say while watching a film, “Did you see that?” No, Loser. I paid $12 to come to the cinema to stare at the damned floor.
- People who ask, “Can I ask you a question?” Didn’t really give me a choice there, did ya Sunshine?
- People who say, “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt.” You’re a damned liar. If you didn’t mean to interrupt, you wouldn’t have.
- When something is ‘New and Improved!’ Which is it? If it’s new, then there has never been anything before it. If it’s an improvement, then there must have been something before – it couldn’t be new.
- When people say, “Life is short.” What the hell? Life is the longest damned thing anyone ever does! What can you do that’s longer?
- When you are waiting for the bus and someone asks, “Has the bus come yet?” If the bus had come, would I be standing here, dumbass?
Feel free to forward this post to 10 people you care about, or add your own Peeve to the list.
I’ve been snowed in since Monday. I’m tired of the snow. I’m tired of the weather reports and pictures about the snow. I moved to Atlanta to get away from the snow. It wasn’t supposed to snow down here, not like this. Since I’ve lived here, I think it’s only snowed like this maybe three times.
Anyway, I was excited to get OutOfTheHouse. Get some sunshine and fresh air. I decided to drive downtown to return a library book and purchase the books for my class this semester. A lot of cars were on the highway and traffic was moving well. I was groovin’, blasting the radio and singing “Never Too Much” with Luther when I felt it coming on. That feeling of fear and dread, that pounding heart. I turned the radio down, opened the windows, started breathing deeply, and looked for a place to pull over in case I lost my mind and couldn’t remember who I was and where I was going.
Pretty scary, but at least it was long. The anxiety subsided and my heart rate went back to normal. Whew. I turned the radio up, a little. I opened the windows, a crack. I started humming. My exit is coming up and so is anxiety attack #2. What the fuck? Same routine – turn the radio down, open the windows, breathe deeply.
Anxiety Attacks are a Major Peeve. I’m pretty sure that being in the house for four days and forgetting what to do when I got out was what brought this on. Not to mention any other psychological crap that may be going on.
And I guess this next observation is nothing to hold on to, but what’s wrong with these pictures? I’ll tell you.
I’m at the store, stocking up for the big storm. It’s colder than a well digger’s ass outside, and these people are in SHORTS. I don’t understand.
And this picture? The snow is not completely off the ground. It’s the first sunny day above freezing. Ice patches are everywhere, and this chick is wearing her 5-inch-heel club boots (and she’s not the only one I saw today wearing boots like this). Her friend, however, is booted appropriately and will probably be very successful in life as she is clearly capable of making good decisions.
I’m kinda glad to be back in the house and not on the road, but I will give it another go tomorrow. And I’m glad I can round out the day with my new passion, Blue Bell Rainbow (orange, lime, & strawberry) Sherbet.
I was in a hurry to get out of Wal-Mart so I could rush to Krispy Kreme before they closed. I almost went into sugarless shock when I got there and found out that some of my favorite donuts were not available. No sour creme cake, no krullers, no chocolate-covered cake. I was a little peeved. I asked the clerk about it and she said that my favorite varieties were discontinued. She said the employees were given no reason; those varieties just weren’t being offered any more. Now I’m more peeved.
I took my five hot glazed donuts, went home and looked on the Web site for information about discontinuing varieties, but there was nothing. I filled out the customer comment form, but that didn’t satisfy me. So I called customer service at 1-800-4krispy the next day and spoke with Kim. She explained that the donut varieties are optional, and seven varieties rotate. What is sold at each store is at the discretion of the manager and can be based on customer demand.
So, if your favorite Krispy Kreme variety disappears, speak up. Make a call, complete a survey, make a demand. Maybe your favorites will get reenlisted. I haven’t been back to Krispy Kreme. Of course, it’s only been since Friday. And I’m snowed in.
You snap the whip, I’ll make the trip. I’m posting every week in 2011!
Starting right now.
It might be fabulous. It might not. But it probably will be.
So like the farmer said to the potato, I’ll plant you now and dig you later.
Your Best Friend,
I saved this list by Eliza Marston from the May 2005 issue of Glamour magazine, but I don’t necessarily like the title. Should can be a judgmental word when it means a person ought to be other than who they are or do something other than what they are doing at present, and that’s probably not the case here. According to dictionary.com , the main function of “should” in modern American English is to express duty or necessity. I’m just not crazy about the word.
You are not duty bound, and it may not even be necessary to ask your mother any of these questions. You may already have the answers, you may hesitate to ask her for whatever reason, or you may not care to know.
I know the answers to two of these questions; I have yet to ask my mother the other 10.
- Her birthday and what she wants for it.
- What her best friend knows about her that you don’t.
- The song that makes her dance, the movie that makes her cry, and the book she’s read seven times.
- Where she hides her jewelry.
- The one thing she’d really love to do, just the two of you.
- How she’s managed to keep that plant alive for 20 years.
- Exactly how you push her buttons . . .
- . . . and how to make her stop pushing yours.
- The Dirty Harry line she used on that kid who bullied you when you were five.
- How she makes her famous Bloody Mary.
- All the things she’s tried over the years to influence the shape of her body, and whether any of them worked.
- Who and what else she is, and ever was, besides your mom.