Me and you,
your momma and your cousin too
Rollin down the strip on vogues
Comin up slammin Cadillac doz
Elevators - Outkast (1996)
So me and Katy continued my rant about elevator etiquette last week. She brought up how she can't stand it when you get to your floor, the doors open, and some eager beaver jumps on the elevator before you can get off. Seriously? Is that really necessary you effin' over-acheiver? It's just so freakin' dumb is all. And would you believe while we were having this conversation on an elevator a student did exactly that. Cut it out.
Friday I saw a black man speeding up I-71 in a old red mercedes convertible wearing a Spongebob Squarepants hat with the bib turned to the back. Do you know how many things are wrong with that sentence?
I went to get a footicure this weekend. There is this annoying nail tech in the salon. I mean she is annoying as hell and I'm going to tell you why. First of all, she is out of place, she's a big amazon white woman. HUGE. That's okay I guess because big amazon white women need jobs too and all big amazon white women are not annoying. But this one is annoying as hell because she takes on the persona of whoever she is talking to. In other words, when she is talking to one of the vietemese techs (which includes everyone but her) she speaks to them with real choppy dialect. Example: "Where you been? I look for you but you no come for long time." But then when she talks to me (which thank goodness she doesn't do often) she get's "homegirl" on me. Like "Guuuuurlllll, you ain't been here in a minute." I promise you if I could, I'd eff her up. But I know I'd get my wig split. Like I said, she's huge. And I know my limitations.
Never use anyone else's cell phone. Why? I'm glad you asked. Today I went in the restroom and noticed a woman come in talking on her cell phone without an earpiece. The conversation never stopped. I don't know how you handle your business and carry on a conversation with someone on the phone without touching something. I know, I know, "Gee thanks Leslie for the visual." You're welcome kids.
And why we're talking about nasty stuff y'all do in the bathroom, I think if you walk out of the stall and attempt to exit the restroom without visiting the sink you should be tazed. I saw a lady do that today. And another thing, I don't want to hear you moaning or singing from the stall. You're doing too much. Do men have these problems?
Brian thought it would be real cute to call me last night to inform me that Lorenzo Favre and crew were taking the field. I didn't even realize they were playing and on tv no less. I had a tough decision, continue to watch Big Brother and let my IQ drop slowly, or rage myself into a coma by watching Lorenzo and the Lunatics while listening to Al Michaels and Chris Collinsworth go on and on about him like they're turned on or something.
My IQ is slightly lower today but my rage (believe it or not) is in check.
The Vikings lost last night (who cares it's pre-season) 15-10 at the hands of the 49ners. And Lewis (Ward), here's the quote from your favorite player: "I didn't fumble a snap, completed a pass. That's a win for me." We know Lorenzo, it's all about you. Dumba$$. I think my IQ just dropped again. I feel dizzy. And Brian, I WILL hang up on you next time. Just try it.
Dear Mr. Woodson, today I saw several people wearing leggin's. You can stop begging for your job back. You're still fired. (If you don't get that you'll need to go back a few rants - but Woodson knows what the hell I'm talking about.)
Since I went nuts last week about hair touching, several of you who have daily access to me (poor things) inquired about touching my hair today. The answer is "I am not a petting zoo." (Right Jody?) And I will spork you if you try it.
Here's a shamless plug. If you like my hair, go visit my stylist - Ms. Leona. Her shop is Personalities by Leona. It's on Ludlow in Clifton across from IGA. Her number is 513-751-5100. She's the best.
Hand somebody your sunglasses if you feel yourself being overtaken by the spirit during the church service. Yesterday I watched a lady (who by the way had a boot cast on her foot) stomp her sunglasses into an unrecognizable pile of shards while gettin' her happy on. What do you do? You can't stop someone in the spirit to tell them they are obliterating their possibly expensive eyewear. Afterwards the woman sitting behind her attempted to pick them up and hand them to her. I know my mind should have been somewhere else, but I couldn't help it - I chuckled.
Add it to the reasons I may be going down below.
Love,
Leslie
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