By Angry Black Lady | Eloquent Eloquence | October 4, 2010 |
By Angry Black Lady | Eloquent Eloquence | October 4, 2010 |
Is this thing on?
Hello, citizens! Your Friendly Neighborhood Black Lady here. I am sad to report that mere weeks after becoming a red-blooded American, Figgy was abducted by a gang of poutine-loving Canadians. Pajiba operatives are looking into it, but in the meantime, won’t you permit me to wave a tiny flag in her stead?
~waves tiny flag~
I’m coming to you live and in stereo from San Francisco-land. Just being here makes me feel a little gay inside. I’m currently holed up in my hotel room basking in the warm afterglow of room service, and surrounded by condiments in tiny jars. Pocket-sized jars of Grey Poupon? That’s what the people want. To be frank, I feel a little elitist.
I had a bit of a scare a little while ago — I thought that I had lost the key to the mini-bar. I was rather surprised that the mini bar even has a key. I’ve become so used to those pressure mini-bars — the ones that charge you seventy-eleven thousand dollars if you so much as breathe on the little bottles of liquor. Hotels are liquor Hitlers.
Anyway, I’m going to make this quick because there are Serious Things happening in Interwebsland and every minute I spend writing this post is a minute I’m not out there searching for The Truth.
The truth of the matter is, however, that I wouldn’t know The Truth if it were being brutally murdered three feet next to me. You see, citizens, I’m a gadget whore. Always have been. I still have my Palm Pilot. Hell, I own an abacus. And if you’re really nice, I might show you my Casio watch. Ooooh ahhh!
My gadget hookerness, coupled with a raging case of ADD often makes me oblivious to the goings-on around me. Some hapless fool could be getting stabbed right in front of me, and I would never notice it because whatever witticism some anonymous Facebooker virtually spewed forth onto my wall is far more interesting than the arterial spurt which is literally spewing forth onto my fucking clothes; but I don’t care because this shirt cost me only three dollars at Forever 21, and besides, I don’t even know that guy. (Yeah, I’m a 30-something who shops at XXI, fuck you.)
What? Who said that?
I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let’s just keep it movin’. I gotta go check Facebook to see if geep photoshopped Black Baby Weave into Niagara Falls. I wonder if that’s where Figgy is…
What? Oh yeah. Your top 11 eloquents. Why eleven? Because I wanted to list eleven. Call it reparations.
11. My friend’s pretentious boyfriend used to rave about his “expresso” machine. As a coffee addict I both wanted to bash him over the head and steal his darling “expresso” machine. Seriously. Fuck that guy.
Also, my sister said “hyper-bowl” this summer and I laughed in her face. — Erin S.
[I like you. I really like you. Fuck that guy, indeed, and anyone who says “hyper-bowl” deserves to be publicly shamed.]
10. Newsflash: SyFy finally jumps sharktopus.
/rimshot — RobP
RobP beat me to it. — Lindsey with an ‘e’
@Lindsey with an ‘e’, I’m kind of surprised I beat anyone to it. I was more than half-afraid someone would get theirs in a second before me. (That’s what she said.) —RobP
[God is watching. You will go to hell if you self- “that’s what she said” yourself. Say three hail marys, get me a whisky, and you’ll be absolved of your sins.]
9. Hear hear!
If I could only surround myself with the women of one country for the rest of my life, I think I’d go with Indian girls.
For the eyes, man, those eNORmous brown eyes. Like swimming pools. Great eyes. —,
I, like comma, also appreciate lovely Indian ladies. However, I’m less than enchanted by the image of enormous brown swimming pools. — Groundloop
[Don’t it make your brown eye blue?]
8. I suddenly have a craving for a dark chocolate covered salted pretzel stick.
Mr. Bullet is currently busy sticking it to Whitey. He’ll get back to you. — Robert Scott
7. I had to ::forbidden word:: over this. I’ve been waiting for a trailer for ages. I have an inappropriate crush on Rupert Grint. ::ahem:: Hi, my name is Patty, and I have a thing for gingers. (Hi Patty.) It has been… oh, 20 hours since my last ginger. Unless you count my husband as a redhead. I understand the line is sometimes poorly drawn. (One surefire test is the curtains/drapes argument)
(Oh, now that’s just silly.) (It’s true, ask anyone.) Moving on. I have been known to gape and swoon over the likes of Rupert Grint, Simon Pegg and Seth Green. I find the speckled freckles and the nearly-invisible eyebrows to be unfathomably alluring. (She has it bad.)
Thank you for listening. — Patty
[There, there, Patty. It’s ok. You’re in the nest of truth and honesty and whatever. I, too, thought Weasly had a little somethin’ somethin’ that I can’t quite put my finger on, IYKWIMAITYD.]
6. I would totally wingardium his leviosa. — ZombieNurse
[It’s not levi-Osa, it’s levio-SA.]
5. How could Gabourey Sidibe have a fair shake really when Hollywood already has Eddie Murphy, Martin Lawrence, and Tyler Perry to play every obese black female role available? — The Pink Hulk
[It’s funny-slash-sad because it’s true.]
4. Never go ass-to-mouth-to-ass-to-mouth-to-ass-to-mouth-to-ass-to-mouth-to-ass-to-mouth-to-ass-to-mouth-to-ass-to-mouth-to-ass-to-mouth-to-ass-to-mouth.
Well, maybe sometimes it’s okay. — admin
[When? When is it okay?]
3. Not all of them are that bad. However:
Brad Pitt looks like he passed out chin-first in a goddam vat of Marshmallow Fluff.
Katie Holmes is entirely bangariffic. Xenu got himself a hot piece.
Pete Doherty is a banana peel away from turning into the Trash Heap from Fraggle Rock.
Julianne Moore needs stick to acting and give up on the Cordwainer apprenticeship.
LeBeouf’s only crime is praising the band responsible for the worst album cover of all time.
Spencer Pratt needs to be raped by a furious gorilla. Regardless of attire, this needs to happen.
Rourke seems to be channeling Emmet Kelly. A pound of pancake makeup would seal the deal.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to cut off a pinky finger. It’s a promise I made to myself in the event I ever typed Spencer Pratt’s name again, thus furthering his unexplainable celebrity. The fact that he was even mentioned here should promtp you to hang your head in shame, Rowles. HANG IT IN SHAME, FOR YOU’VE BROUGHT A POX UPON THIS HALLOWED GROUND!
Me. — Skitz
[If laughing at the furious gorilla rape is wrong, then I don’t want to be right.]
2. I’m pretty sure the Swiss and Belgians put sea salt crystals in their chocolate bars before that little girl put it in Manny’s milk. Well, it’s not like they’re going to be able to take back the idea by force. — branded
[I love a good joke at the expense of the Swiss; they’re wholly funny. Holy crap, this comment made me laugh. Holes. get it? Like the cheese!? Oh, sure, like you’re above it… a-holes.]
1. along with joe “verevulff” estevez, we cannot forget Chip Hitler.
[This has been slaying me on the inside and out for four days. Well-done.]
So there you have it. Chip Hitler, FTW. I wonder if there is anyone out there whose name is “Chip Hitler”? I’mma google it. I got the -itis. I’m addicted to technology, is what I’m saying.
Also, too? CRACK, such as.
Eloquent Eloquence today has been brought to you by Angry Black Lady (stopthemadness). You can read more of her musings over on the brilliant, award winning blog, Angry Black Lady Chronicles.