(no subject)
And with the changing seasons, thus thrust us into a bought of mediocrity. And the time has come for wannabes across the binary code to be struck with a sudden flash of inspiration and insight with regards to the usual fecal matter they spew forth. And the rest of us are left floating in a pool of dried brown logs; and everything else is a life raft in comparison.
A message from the month of November.
I’m cute and hot. Sexy too. I’m so sexy that I’m three kinds of sexy; sexy sexy, spicy sexy, and California caliente sexy. I make Charlize look like a drag queen, sexy. You want some of this sexy sexy, you ain’t getting any. Too hot to trot in these four hundred dollar Dolce boots, sexy. Carry me on your back boo. My humps ain't even on the radar.
Now listen here, I don’t do bland. Save bland for Miss May. She doesn’t have a rep to keep. Ugly girls stay ugly. That's why they call them ugly. I have catwalks to cat walk and photo shoots to shoot. I can’t be bothered with the bland mediocrity you want to impose on me. Listen here, I’m a flashy girl. I can’t be bogged down by people such as yourself.
I’m no inspiration. There’s no need to feel a sudden burst of Mmph! when I pop up for a date. I know you throw me on your calendars and mark when I’ll be 'round your town. But I’m not interested in anything you have to lick my way. I’m no inspiration. I know writers want to write me on their calendars, but I’m no date to feel up.
If you were really who you say you are, you wouldn’t need me to be a trendy inspiration. You would be inspired twenty-four seven. Three sixty five. The majority of you will fall off the bandwagon by the nineteenth, so why even bother this time around? You know you bore everybody on your friends list, right? You know you’re degrading my name and taking away my sexiness, right?
I’m just a cute fashion chica holding down the sex until my man Decemba rolls up to represent the gentleman front. And you bitches trying to put a bad name to my name. Why a bitch always gotta go and be a bitch. Can't ever be nothing but a bitch. I didn’t do anything to deserve this. You’re gonna make a poor girl cry. I ain't gonna let a bitch drag my name through the bushes, so...
I only got one thing to say to all you little writer wannabes: NO MO WRI MO! Or a sister's gonna have to get testy.
This has been a message from the month of November.
A message from the month of November.
I’m cute and hot. Sexy too. I’m so sexy that I’m three kinds of sexy; sexy sexy, spicy sexy, and California caliente sexy. I make Charlize look like a drag queen, sexy. You want some of this sexy sexy, you ain’t getting any. Too hot to trot in these four hundred dollar Dolce boots, sexy. Carry me on your back boo. My humps ain't even on the radar.
Now listen here, I don’t do bland. Save bland for Miss May. She doesn’t have a rep to keep. Ugly girls stay ugly. That's why they call them ugly. I have catwalks to cat walk and photo shoots to shoot. I can’t be bothered with the bland mediocrity you want to impose on me. Listen here, I’m a flashy girl. I can’t be bogged down by people such as yourself.
I’m no inspiration. There’s no need to feel a sudden burst of Mmph! when I pop up for a date. I know you throw me on your calendars and mark when I’ll be 'round your town. But I’m not interested in anything you have to lick my way. I’m no inspiration. I know writers want to write me on their calendars, but I’m no date to feel up.
If you were really who you say you are, you wouldn’t need me to be a trendy inspiration. You would be inspired twenty-four seven. Three sixty five. The majority of you will fall off the bandwagon by the nineteenth, so why even bother this time around? You know you bore everybody on your friends list, right? You know you’re degrading my name and taking away my sexiness, right?
I’m just a cute fashion chica holding down the sex until my man Decemba rolls up to represent the gentleman front. And you bitches trying to put a bad name to my name. Why a bitch always gotta go and be a bitch. Can't ever be nothing but a bitch. I didn’t do anything to deserve this. You’re gonna make a poor girl cry. I ain't gonna let a bitch drag my name through the bushes, so...
I only got one thing to say to all you little writer wannabes: NO MO WRI MO! Or a sister's gonna have to get testy.
This has been a message from the month of November.