Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Give it to me, baby!

Why? Cause I'm Rick James, bitch!

But seriously. I know what you are thinking. You want to know what I want you to give me. I'll tell you. What do I want?


You see, I consider myself to be a little bit of a clever britches (smarty pants) because I feel as though I often make 100% hilarious jokes when engaging in casual conversation. In this situation, people will usually laugh or at the very least, smile. For me, that is instant gratification! My problem is that the internet is ruining my life.

NOW, with the increasing popularity of the internet and this new "electronic mail" craze that the kids are all talking about, I am forced to communicate through this new medium. This normally works out pretty well for me, considering that I am a bit of a "word surgeon" - a "literal life-saver" if you will. I put some of my best material into emails!


I will write the most hilarious joke EVER and hit that send button, filled with glee, thinking about how awesome it's going to be when I get props for my mad lyrical skillz.

But the props never come. People just ignore my hilarity, and continue on as if I had just said nothing of consequence. For me, this is cruel and unusual punishment. It is like you are trying to kill me. I NEED TO KNOW THAT YOU THINK I AM FUNNY/CLEVER/CUTE/etc...

So, next time I drop a mad diss or make a witty observation, don't hate - appreciate. Cause I ain't talking just to hear my own voice... actually, sometimes I am, but nevermind that. I need the verbal pat on the head, thumbs up or (my fave) the geeky white kid high-five.

Nice one, seriously. A+ for effort.


Anonymous said...

what? what?

sarah said...

Okay, now you are just trying to make me mad. Do you want me to come over there and give you the manditory look? Is that what you want? Cause I'll do it.

PS: You drink homo milk? What a spaz!

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