thank you for shopping @ wal-mart

I hate Wal-Mart.

I figured I'd get that point across before I even commence with the following story...

So this post is about the self-check out lane at Wal-Mart. I must admit, it is one of the niftiest creations since the Furby (man...remember how freaky THOSE things were??), but of course, it has its setbacks.


And sadly, I had to experience its flaws firsthand.

Funny story...
Buckle up for safety...1...2...3...

I was at Wal-Mart near the Mall at Cortana in Baton Rouge one evening -- and if you've ever been, you know it's undoubtedly the most ghetto retail establishment this side of the Mississippi.

I mean there's weave for days; ALL colors of the rainbow -- red, green, chartreuse...you name it, it's sewn in.

But I digress...

So as I was carefully -- I reiterate, CAREFULLY -- scanning my items, the computer (complete with the most annoying Kathie Lee Gifford-meets-Barbara Walters voice) prompted me to "place the item into the bag." I did as I was told and tried to continue bagging, but the darn contraption wouldn't allow me to. I then tried to flag down a sales associate, but was met with no avail.

Finally, I found someone to assist me.

Ah, the Hallelujah Chorus chimed in my head.

But only for a moment.

I asked the associate, "Is it possible for you to help me scan my items?"
Before I could even finish my plea for help, that neck starting rolling and the weave started swangin'.

"I'm not even on the clock! Why you ain't do what the machine be telling you to do?!?!" began my interrogation. I tried so hard not to laugh -- out of respect -- but my intentions fell short.

I chuckled lightly and said, "Thank you ma'am for your time; I genuinely appreciate it."

As she continued to rant and scan my items, I thought, "D*mn, her weave is really silky...it would make a great tablecloth." Random, I know...but man was it beautiful; if only it were real. But you know what they use to say in grade school: "If you can't sew it, grow it! And if you can't achieve it, weave it!"

So the moral of this story is...you can be as pissed as the h*ll you want if your weave can run through my fingers.

That's all folks!

P.S.: I know my story started to lose focus, but hey...sue me!

getting back to normal...

...whatever the h*ll normal is.

So school has resumed, and is it ever back in full swing.
Books to read...
Meetings to attend...
Teachers who sh*t their drawls...
It's all here.

Wait...teachers who sh*t their drawls, you ask?
Oui, oui monsieur/madame, that's correct. One of my professors is in a pending litigation that stems from his uncontrollable diarrhea.

And no, i'm not sh*tting you (yes, this pun was blatantly intended).

Notwithstanding professors who sh*t their drawls, this seems to be a promising semester.

Well, I may not be blogging as much as I'd like to now that I'm about to succumb to school work like a whore ready to succumb to a night of head-giving. Ok...perhaps that was too far. Regardless...keep it real and read a newspaper or something.


Quote plaguing my mind:

(From "South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut")
Stan: "Mr. Garrison, why are our mom's being all pissy and stuff?"
Mr. Garrison: "I don't know Stan, they're probably all on their periods or something. You know, I don't trust something that bleeds for four days and doesn't die."



- JC

NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN

McCain's speech is over...

Thank God.

D*mn that was boring. I mean I know he was a prisoner of war and all (and I concede it was an admirable act of patriotism), but I think I experienced more torture listening to that boring speech than he did while being held captive in Vietnam.

That speech was like purgatory! I cried to myself, " just give me the guillotine"; even that would have been reprieve from the torture! Give me Sarah Palin in her birthday suit! Ok...maybe that would have been a dream, not a nightmare ;-) haha

Nonetheless, I think I've made my point: the speech SUCKED.

Ya kno, I kept thinking the whole time...what if he just dropped dead like mid-sentence? Wouldn't that be somethin'??

Then -- as previously said in one of my earlier blogs -- he could REALLY serve his country: We could take his dead body, ship it to Louisiana and use it as a source for fossil fuel!

I mean, heck, I'm sure that would save somebody time at one of these gas stations in Baton Rouge (following Hurricane Gustav).

Alas, that didn't happen.

Yes -- while everyone was chanting "McCain! McCain! McCain!" I was chanting "Die! Die! Die!"

Just kidding... maybe.

Nevertheless, the Republicans still haven't said ANYTHING.

What do they plan to do to fix this dismal economy?
How will they help to end some of our dependence on foreign oil (since apparently McCain just won't do us all a favor and stop breathing)?
And lastly, how the heck will they get our troops back to American soil?

These questions -- along with many more -- are awaiting answers...

Until then, I'm sure McCain will try to figure out a way to end his personal dependence on Viagra.

OBAMA-BIDEN '08!!

republicans stike back

So...Sarah Palin is pretty much my idol now; I'd do her.

Just kidding.

But her speech was pretty darn funny. She went straight for the Democrats' nuts with the brash comments, and although nothing in her speech was substantive, it made for pure comedy. I was literally laughing uncontrollably.

But geez, was this a national convention or a gathering of every United States nursing home resident??? I don't think there was anybody younger than 105 years old!

Although I must point out that there was this ONE big, burly black man the camera continued to pan to throughout the broadcast. And d*mn was he scary. He looked like the ice cream man that probably took kids in dark places to touch them inappropriately...you know...that weird man who stayed over yonder over the train tracks.

And John McCain...we don't need to drill in Alaska or tap into the reserves to end our foreign dependence on oil. Just die so we can use you as a source for fossil fuel. Thanks.

But am I the only one that noticed Sarah Palin looked like she was bout to sh*t her drawls (see below for the difference between drawls and underwear)when McCain reached out to give her a congratulatory hug?

And frankly, I don't blame her.

He's a rapist. I'm convinced. A first-class child molester.

Yeah, the Republican Party is pretty comical. But as it's been said prior, this is "No Country For Old Men," McCain.



Let's Barack 'N' Roll, kids!!

BARACK-OBAMA '08

drawls and underwear...the vital differences

As a child, I heard the words "drawls" and "underwear" used interchangeably to describe undergarments. But there are some differences worth investigating...

Drawls tend to have a sexual connotation...

For instance...drawls are to be dropped (e.g. drop them drawls). You'd NEVER say drop those underwear; it just doesn't flow off the tongue like drawls.

Drawls also are sh*tted in (you sh*t your drawls, not your underwear), torn (she tore her drawls with me) and as aforementioned, dropped.

Underwear, however, are bought..."Honey, can you go to the neighborhood Wal-Mart and buy me a pair of fruit-of-the-loom underwear?"

But when Honey gets home with her husband's underwear and it's that time of night, she's gonna drop her DRAWLS.

Yes, I know, this vernacular can get ambiguous at times, so this is why I've reserved blog space for clarification. Until next time...when we drop them drawls, let's pick up the coats...

By the way, I bet Sarah Palin's daughter can give us a dissertation on droppin' drawls ;-)

ghetto girls

So my roommates and I recently had an interesting discussion about ghetto girls.

And we obviously don't feel the same way about em...

I love em ghetto...I mean weave swangin', gum poppin', nails blingin', booty clappin' and the list continues. Not only does it make for free entertainment, but well...it makes for high-quality, free entertainment.

My roommates on the other hand, quickly shared their remorse.

But I beg to differ...

I've always argued that the world wouldn't go 'round without pimps and hos (see my prior blog about assigning the word "ho" with a new working definition)...well let's add good ol' ghetto girls to that list.

After all, they don't sell silky weave for nothin'.

This is for all the Boquisha's and Lameisha's out there! Keep on holdin' it down...one track at a time.

SARAH PALIN'S DAUGHTER GOT KNOCKED UP!!

Hahahahahahaha

Take THAT soccer mom of the year!! woo-hoo. Whoops, I mean HOCKEY MOM!

hurricane...ugh...oh yea...GUSTAV

So...

Hurricane Gustav tore Baton Rouge a new one...
Well, almost.

He was about halfway through a new crack, but he didn't quite finish. In other words, I don't believe it was as bad as it could have been.

I guess you could say I'm kind of a pro at this whole Hurricane thing (thank the b*tch Rita). I mean, i'm no Michael Phelps or Tiger Woods of hurricane survival...but I guess you could say I'd be one of those 12-year old Chinese girls who came in third place @ the Olympics. That's about how good I am to this whole hurricane ordeal (I know, not the most PC comment but sue me).

Anywho, it's pretty bad in the Capital City but from the looks of things, it's nothing that can't be fixed in time. So let's praise white jesus in his holy, infinite, everlasting Caucasian name for that one.

But don't flush the toilet just yet...

"They" say (Yes, the most reliable source this side of Tel Aviv..."THEY") that there are two more hurricanes ready to wreck havoc on the states.

Well I'll be d*mned.

But then again, I'd be ready to tap that a*s too if I was hurricane; getting a name like Josephine.

I mean come on... there was Katrina (that's pretty sexy if you do ask me), then Gustav (a little serve-me-my-caviar-with-my-merlot-ish, but nonetheless, not too bad). But Josephine...that sounds like a 60 year old, Lincoln driving porch dweller. But I digress (and apologize in advance to anyone who's named Josephine)...let's just hope for the best.

Until next time...continue to eat the rainbow sprinkles and not the chocolate and make sure to save the extra napkins from McDonalds; put them in your glove compartment as you never know when you'll need em. PEACE!

- JC