“….all I really want is you down on me..” Jeremiah from the song Down On Me
“….all I want to do is sit back and watch you move and I’ll proceed to throw this cash….” Waka Flocka from the song No Hands
“…….I wanna get with ya mami, now let me see where the lord split ya lolli….” Pitbull from the song Hey Baby
Yeah, I’m melting. Yep. I said it. I love hip-hop dance music in the mornings. It gets me going, moving, energized. Apparently, I am supposed to feel violated, exploited, hyper-sexualized(when the fuck did this become a condition, or a bad one, anyway????) and most of all, it should make me NOT listen.
Yeah, not so much. This is my “Fuck You” to those who try to decide how I should feel about music or who I should listen to. Seriously, I’ve heard worse lines IRL, so why do I give a damn if some people use this in front of some wicked dance beats? I don’t. I got over the whole thing about a million eons ago.
What I do care about is the judgement others feel smug and self-righteously justified in placing upon anyone who does listen to it.
Really, you want to judge me because I like my music loud and not to your taste. Well, I find you bland and without style, but I didn’t feel the need to pass judgement on you for these transgressions. (and believe me, bland and without taste are serious fucking transgressions in my book) Before now, that is, but since we are passing judgement, I would like to encourage you to do a couple of things.
1) See a doctor about having that stick removed from your ass. I don’t know how YOU feel about it, but it’s making ME really uncomfortable.
2) Read something, any-fucking-thing other than a teacher’s note. Seriously, it is awesome that you love your kids, are proud of them, and spend every waking moment of your life smothering them. Now, find a hobby so they can breathe and I can tolerate another forced conversation with you.
3) Stop looking shocked when I say something bitchy. I say things other people only think, they call it being polite, I call it being cowardly. Whatever the case may be, you should know by now, I’m going to say it.
4) Don’t think I won’t knock you right the fuck out if you EVER make one of your backhanded slight comments toward me. I am not the insipid bitches I have seen you do it to and get away with it, feeling all smug and clever. Not going to happen with me.
5) When you are tempted to make a disparaging remark about someone for being original, different, or unique in the way they express their personal style, walk away from me. I will cut you with the dull edge of the piercing they are wearing that caught your attention, then jab you with the tattoo needles that were discarded when their artist finished on them.
6) Fall off of my part of the planet. Sooner rather than later.
7) A post script: I don’t give a fuck what you say, midgets are fucking hilarious! And it was St Patrick’s Day……Hello! Leprechaun! Duh!
This rant brought to you by Wicked Shawn and is intended to make her feel better and potentially amuse you. It is directed at someone who works in the same building and felt compelled to let her know how de-humanizing to women the song she was listening to is supposed to be. She then felt further compelled, last night, to look positively aghast when she heard the ringtone on The Wicked One’s personal phone (which is Rihanna’s S&M) and just had to make another comment. So, to her and the others who wish to pass judgement, she says, again and with gusto, “Fuck you”, as Louis Armstrong plays in the background. (because she’s eclectic like that)
She also thinks writing in the third person is fantastic and plans to do so more often.