Justin and Eski-ho's

Things I learned from the Just Bieber Movie: 

It is pretty impressive how fast Justin got to the top


Will Smith's son is the most adorable thing on the planet

That was about it. 

I have a word for you all today that really fits today's modern society. We have seem to embrace our Alaskan culture now that Sarah Pailn can see Russia from her back deck.  (when I orginally wrote "Palin" i wrote it like "Palien.." I guess I was just thinking of aliens from outer space when I thought of her. Odd.) We, not including me, but maybe including you, have taken the eskimos style and put a little jersey flair on it. I am pleased to introduce the:

Eski-ho (noun)

Definition: A girl who wears UGGS (or the knock off's called UGH) with a short skirt or short shorts or a short dress or maybe even no pants at all 

in that case we would ad an "e" at the end for "Eski-hoes" just because if they are not wearing pants they are a little different from the normal "-ho"  

Have a great monday my friends. 

And stay away from the Eski-ho(e)'s. 

This message was approved by Britney Spears

And sponsored by Jessica Simpson. 

This one is close to my heart. Not only because I use it often, but also because it annoys the hell out of me when other people use it.

Word: "No offense" 

Definition: a phrase used to introduce a highly offensive comment. 

**Note that i do not know what this cute asian kid has to do with the phrase"no offense" but he came up under my google search so I knew it had to have some connection because google is never wrong. 

Define: Friends

Friend: One of the many strangers on Facebook 

You have to love modern technology and lack of social interaction unless held on the social network which isn't really that social and more of a stalk market. 

Take a moment to thank me. I am helping you with vocabulary.

With each post I want to teach you a new word. (Notice how I said I was going to do something without making a promise? Look at me- I am tricky! (and a poet who didn't know it!) Anyways..) 

Today's word is: 

Spring (noun)

Definition: time to start shaving again. 

(courtesy of Google-

 where I typed in 

"very hairy women legs" 

and this is what they gave me. 

Gotta love Google.)

When I am dead my dearest:

When I am dead, my dearest, 

sing no sad songs for me;

Plant thou no roses at my head, 

Nor shady cypress tree: 

Be the green grass above me

with showers and dewdrops wet;

And if thou wilt remember

and if thou wilt forget.

. . . . By Christian Rossetti

The following is a poem I wrote in response to the little ditty you read earlier. I thought it was time to share it. 

When I am dead my dearest, 

sing nothing but Gaga to me. 

and maybe some Katy Perry

but nothing by JB

And while you are at it, 

plant deep two palm tress

so you can sway in a hammock

right above me

thank you. 

Dear French people,

What do you call it when you french kiss someone?

Sincerely, 
Google won't tell me.

April Snow Storms bring Dead May Flowers.

Where is the spring weather?

When we left, it was pouring rain, our feet were tired, and I was madly in love with a miniature tiger.

There is a confession that needs to be made. I have been hiding too long- refusing to post, because I was terrified to face my faults. But that time of cowering is now over. I am here. Posting. Go me. I need to learn not to make promises o public sites. I said I would do something and I didn't and now.. now I look like a fool (no, my pants are not on the ground, but thank you for wondering.) I have learned my lesson my dear readers- from now on, I promise never to make a promise to public audiences unless I intend to follow through and make magic happen with it. Here is a too a fresh start (imagine me lifting up my chai in a kind gesture in cheersing you.)

On Saturday, I went to the Miniature Tigers concert which was practically the best think since sliced bread. Gabrielle and I went out to dinner before hand at Zuppas (spelling may be wrong) where a young man, clearly not homeless, and clearly not starving because he did in face clearly just finnish eating with his fellow friends, asked if he could have my bread as he exited. It was so awkward. There I was sitting at the table, stuffing my mouth with salad/soup/sandwich when this man comes waltzing toward my table, picks up my piece of bread from the tray before me and asks ever so innocently if he may have this. I was so surprised I just murmured a "yeah. . . sure." but what I was really thinking was "What am I supposed to say? No? You are already freaking fondling MY bread? There is no way I will eat now that you have touched it! Who do you think you are? No one comes and takes my bread! No one! Except for you.. which is odd."

We then drove is circles, for thirty minutes, in the rain, desperately trying to find Kilby Court. Maps in hand we couldn't find it. But luckily, eventually, we noticed the little street next to the big red car.

The first warm up band (there would be three warm up bands by the end of the night) was hot. Not only in music but it appearance. Desert Noises captured my little teen heart right up and I am not madly in love with the lead singer's voice and the lead (and only) guitarist's body and face. Priceless combination. There music was fun and sweet and full of emotion that I can not really relate to but they sung it all so well that It made me think that I could relate and I did have a lost girlfriend who dumped me for my best friend making it so I got high. It was moving.

The second band sucked. Pepper Rabbits was supposed to be the "hot shots" but I honestly couldn't wait for them to stop there awful music that sounded like a screw driver in a broken blender with bananas. They could not blend there sounds and the lead singer dude played too many instruments poorly at one time and was obsessed with the record and feed back thingy that can often be used to make sweet beats. It was dreadful and everyone agreed. When they announced "this is our final song" the almost to tears audience cheered and clapped wildly.

The third band was good. But at this point it just seemed like they were picking people out of the audience to perform. I really just wanted to see Miniature Tigers. Nothing else. This band didn't introduce themselves, but we would soon learn that they were indeed two of the four members of the suspected band I paid to see. They sang songs about being "high as a fucking kite" and "Donkey Kong's Castle." It was great fun, but I just wanted the mini tigers.

Miniature tigers came soon after the "high as a fucking kite" song and I was thrilled. The lead singer, in a large red and fish poncho, danced with Gabrielle in the audience, played every song we could ever want and earned the title of AMAZING. There is nothing like jumping up and down acting like fools singing at the top of your lungs all the chorus's of your favorite songs from a hipster band at such great venue like Kilby court.

When we left, it was pouring rain, our feet were tired, and I was madly in love with a miniature tiger.