Making a comeblack.

I arrived at the home of an elderly man approaching his upper 80s this morning for a routine roof inspection. I informed him it would take me 15 minutes or so to scope everything out. He replied with, “Good, that gives me some time to check my Facebook.”

He wasn’t kidding. I checked.

Frank. 33 friends.

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Apparently Rebecca Black didn’t get it the first time. After an online backlash bludgeoning of Nagasaki-proportions, she still remained delusional enough of her imaginary talent to come out with yet another song for the world to mock. “My Moment” confirms what everyone in the world already knew; she sounds like indigestion, and looks like a downie.

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.“But guys, I can’t dance,” she says to the producers as they outline what they want for the video.

“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” they retort as they wave their hand. “We’ll do about 400 split second shots of you moving your arms and legs and then edit the shit out of it until it’s one big pixelated, choppy blur and no one can even tell what’s going on—-basically the same thing that we’re doing with your voice.”

“Oh, okay,” she says, and reapplies lipgloss.

“Oh yeah—and be sure to fake laugh a lot and smile like a lunatic so people think you’re unaffected by the violent hatred and suicide-encouraging negative feedback you got from the last song,” they add.

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Did they instruct her to constantly blink slowly and deliberately throughout the entire video, or did she do that on her own? She looks like an insane person. A crazed person who has just decided they’re going to eat someone.

I like that there are young children in the background wailing away on the guitar, when absolutely no guitar tracks are even heard. All I hear are synthesizers, keyboards, and autotune.

I wonder how much money they had to pay everyone to stage fake red carpet appearances and limo rides and pretend paparazzi for this video. I’d like to point out at this point the black man from her original “Friday” video making a cameo as a “paparazzi” at 3:06. Is that not enough of an indication that you’re not famous and talented that you have to stage and hire “fans” (relatives) because you don’t have any real ones? Sounds like a classic case of common sense to me. Then again, I’m not retarded. Black doesn’t have much to work with in that arena.

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Facebook stopped conveniently showing me when it was everyone’s birthday on the right margin of my home page. Thanks a shit ton, Facebook. You’re making me look like a bad friend.

Speaking of birthdays, mine is on Sunday. I will be celebrating by consuming an excessive amount of Italian cuisine, Funfetti birthday cake (is there any other kind?), and digging through my mother’s care package which is always full of delightful goodies. You may send $20s and $50s via mail or PayPal. Thanks.

Bye, fans.

Kidding. Bye “Hans.” My friend Hans likes to read my blogs.

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“I’ll tell you what you’re about to find is my foot in your ass!”

“I don’t think we have enough lotion for that.”

Teen Mum.

I think the show would be funnier with a British twist to it.

Status:

Someone:  teen mom premire

Comment:  i been waiting for thisssssssss

I don’t think further commentary is necessary.

I’m really tired of Kaplan “University” advertising that they can turn 19 year old girls on their second unplanned pregnancy into RNs in 12 months. What a joke. A “university” that is located in the middle of a shopping mall should tip you off, for starters. If you can buy Hello Kitty purses, eat Burger King, and get an “education” in one convenient location, you probably aren’t headed for the glorious fields of success. I worked at Taco John’s in the Mall of the Bluffs where a Kaplan University was located for six years. I know all of these things to be factual.

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Slapping a pair of powder blue scrubs on 200 pound Qu’aneisha with her hooker-esque curling purple nails does not make her a nurse. It doesn’t make me want her to draw my blood or check my blood pressure. Put her back behind the counter to serve chicken nuggets like she’s qualified to do.

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It’s not racist if it’s true. I have a friend named Daniel who would agree.

Extra hilarious side note:  I Googled images of “black nurse” and didn’t come up with much of anything (obviously), so I then Googled “Latisha in scrubs,” and found the above photo. Hahaha.

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I hate it when couples say, “We’re not trying, but we’re not doing anything to prevent it” when referring to pregnancy. This is complete bullshit. If you’re “not doing anything to prevent becoming pregnant,” you’re “trying.” I can close my eyes and drive down the interstate and say that “I’m not trying” to crash my car into a median and die, but the fact of the matter is, I am. Refusing to take your birth control and not wrapping your tool is asking for twins. You’re not fooling anyone. Just come out with it.

Every time I make a joke about Rebecca Black’s “song” Friday, the terrible lyrics (if you can call them that) latch onto my brain for hours and hours. By simply titling my last post “Fryday, Fryday,” I’ve unintentionally sentenced myself to a terrible day, repeating that stupid, whiny song over and over in my head. It’s like an inescapable virus. It’s the “Black” Plague.

I’m so clever it hurts.

We, we, we, so excited. We so excited. We gonna have a ball, to-night.

EVERYBUDDAY!!

Well, that’s all I’ve got right now. THAT’S ALL I’VE GOT.

Bye.

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“Fine. I got a cat. Release the Cracken.”

Which seat will you take?

So, is someone else going to murder Rebecca Black, or do I have to?

Every time this song is played, someone aborts a baby.

Ke$ha took a shit, and this is what came out. This is the most terrible song ever created. Ever. Are we really even allowed to call this a “song?”  If Ke$ha was dubbed the infamous talk-singer, I think her title has been stolen.

I have heard better lyrics come out of a Fisher Price toy. Are you telling me if I narrate my morning routine to a crappy pop loop and then explain which day of the week the current day falls on in respective order to the others (“Yesterday was Thursday, Thursday—today it is Friday! To-morr-ow is Saturday, and Sunday, comes afterward!” – perhaps she knows what number comes before and after 7 also?) that I, too, can become famous? Mine would be a little different:

“10 a.m., I’ve hit snooze 65 times, gotta get up, but not for school—dropped out of co-llege sophomore year, gotta go knock on doors to sell roofs.” (Continue on explaining the days of the week and making sure everyone knows what today is by repeating it relentlessly throughout the rest of the “song”).

“We we we so excited—we so excited. We gonna have a ball to-day.”

You you you so dead, Rebecca.

“Fun, fun, fun, fun, looking forward to the weeeeekend!”

I know my idea of fun x4 is getting really dressed up with my tween friends and then hanging around in a parking lot surrounded by cars that I’m not old enough to drive yet. Unless 13 year olds are drinking Smirnoff Ices in club parking lots now, I don’t know how to label what they’re doing. Certainly not “Partyin’, partyin’, YEAH! Partyin’, partyin’, YEAH!” I believe it’s actually referred to as “loitering.”

Who is the 32 year old black dude checking out the school bus full of 13 year olds in this video? Clearly he is pissing his career (assuming he had one prior to this atrocity) into the wind. Anyone associated with this girl or her “music” have thrown in the towel long ago, and really don’t give a shit about their lives at this point.

A large part of me is insistent on believing that this entire music video and song has GOT to be a joke. No one would ever create this in all seriousness and think it was a hit, right? This is a parody…right? Of herself? She’s joking? Tell me she’s joking.

Is it April 1st yet?

Well, at least Justin Bieber is getting a finally getting a break from all the hate-filled harassment I guess. Your parents must be proud, Rebecca. You’re really “blackening” the family name. (See what I did there? lolz). Not to mention mine.

Hahaha—So, a bunch of people on YouTube started commenting things like, “RIP Rebecca,” and “You guys, she killed herself.” For a second I had a glimpse of hope. Then I realized it was everyone else’s wishful thinking. Keep wishing, kids. If she hasn’t yet, she definitely will. 1,018,784 dislikes, and I am literally watching the thumbs down count go up as we speak like a ticking clock. Before I even finished that sentence, the dislike count has gone up to 1,018, 831. Hahaha.

Someone else left a rebuttal comment back to all the dissing that said, and this is a direct quote, “U guys need to stop, jus think about all the suicides becuz of cyber bullying, what if she like cuts herself.” She needs to. Okay? We’re all waiting for her to pull the trigger.

Well, if you’ll all excuse me, I literally need to go throw up my breakfast after having to watch this video at least three times to get all my points down on paper. Sacrifice. That’s what it is. You’re welcome.

Oh, it’s 1,019,041 now.

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“Hazing is a fun way to let a new employee know that she is not welcome or liked.”