3rd leg
After the After Party

Thursday, November 20, 2003




I have it in my head that if there is an afterlife of the puffy white cloud and pearly gate variety, that there’s also some insane video reference library that has chronicled each and every one of your days (and/or lives) on Earth, and that it is equipped with a user-friendly immediate response system. Meaning that when you’re bored or frustrated with trying to hit one of Cy Young’s up and in fastballs over the heads of the angels in the outfield, or when after rejecting Jesus’ weak ass drive off the backboard he calls a lame ass nonexistent foul, you can leisurely pass eternity by reviewing and reliving the high (and low)lights of your life asking pertinent questions like, on what day did I say the word ‘suck’ the most?

Instantaneously you’d have video replay of each and every time you muttered the word on the historic day in question.

One of the first questions I’d ask is, what girls would have gone out with me had I only asked/what girls thought I was hot but never let me know? And no doubt when I was in some club talking to my boys, or distracted by a game on the screen in some sports bar, there will have been at least one beautiful baby that was waiting for me to make a move, or was trying unsuccessfully to get my attention.

Luckily, there’s immediate feedback in the blogosphere and you don’t have to wail ‘til you’re six feet under to feel the love. See, I had no idea that a tasty treat like Steph (hold the Lola) was feeling me. At least enough to link me. Like I really needed another reason to check out South Beach. But what I truly dig most is that for once, it was more for mind (and/or writing ability) and not my physical appearance that I received positive attention. All these years of going through life feeling like a piece of meat and mere sex object, and I now am even more confident then ever that this blog should continue to exist without gratuitous self-portraits. Not that I mind it when others post images of themselves. Especially the ladies. But for me, this has been therapeutic, and the inside feels nearly as pretty as what the outside has always been. Except for those two years that I was stuck with braces and a brutal haircut. You get my drift though.

Kool Keith is on the board with a point, correctly identifying Allison as the most likely blogger to half-heartedly pleasure herself with the assistance of a few well-placed gummy worms. Or at lest the most likely blogger to claim to have done so, albeit in a unique attempt to avoid contact with Fratty McFratt. And I’ll neither confirm nor deny that my last name was ever McFratt, though I will gladly confirm that I too would have come on strong with the unwelcome, though creatively complimentary, pick-up lines had that nurse outfit, on that body, ever graced my presence. And I’ll also gladly admit to being the type of cat that wouldn’t have been offended by the hanger, mainly because I doubt I’d have noticed it.

Where was I? Oh yes, heaven... I'll bet it's also a lot like the pool scene from Diddy's 'Shake Ya Tailfeather.' Just trust me, say your prayers and prepare yourself for an all-white wardrobe...


Youth vs. Experience

Wednesday, November 19, 2003




dear courtney love,

If you really want to sell the judge on your new straight and narrow approach to life in an effort to regain custody of your daughter, you’d let tony pierce write your blog. He’ll fabricate heart-warming stories recounting your various voluntary community service activities, and your newfound appreciation for staying in and making hot cocoa from scratch as opposed to going out and scoring coke by showing your snatch.

There’s a perfect available domain at http://stupidgirl.blogspot.com, but if you don’t act soon it’ll be snatched up by a smart aleck ninth-grade boy, or a self-deprecating feminist in her late 20’s. Then you’ll have to go with something less cute and sardonic, like ‘puffylips.blogspot.com’ or ‘usedtobehideousthenwaskindasclassyandexyandamnownearingdownrightscary.blogspot.com.’

Just a thought, and in case you haven’t heard---Halloween is over. You can take off the mask now, you’re frightening the children.

Love,
3L

Even if you’re not one of the million+ that tunes in to ABC each and every Wednesday night for America’s favorite reality dating game, tonight’s season finale offers vital life lessons to those of you that are unattached and available. Ya see Bob’s a fairly normal dude and he’ll be "making the most important decision of his life" by determining one of two attractive females he deems more fit to present a rose to.

Estella is a 28 year old from Beverly Hills, and Kelly Jo is a 23 year old from Kalamazoo, Michigan. Kelly Jo’s tanner, shorter and curvier (in a good way) and Estella’s got a more slender build and is a little more reserved and classy, though possibly also snobbish and insecure. I think we’ll find that just like when a guy goes to buy a used car, he opts for the one with less mileage----meaning Kelly Jo lands her man. Of course it doesn’t hurt that Bob also hails from the state of Michigan.

Should you ever find yourself in a similar position there are certainly effective ways to reign victorious against a younger opponent. Swallowing is never a bad idea. Especially first thing in the morning. Nor is being mature enough to introduce others in to the bedroom (females only obviously) and encouraging your beau to spend as much time as he likes with da fellas. Hooking up da fellas with some of your girls is also a nice touch in eternally endearing his friends to you. You then become the envy of his boys and the measuring stick by which all of his friend’s ladies are judged by. Once he realizes that his boys don’t get taken care of every morning and more importantly without the immediate need for a wet washcloth, and that it is totally unnecessary for him to create alibis and fairy tales to occasionally get out of the house and recount the evening’s event when no interrogation awaits him, then you’re almost homefree. Because your younger, inexperienced, near-sighted foe will indoubtedly require an annoying amount of face time and attention all throughout the courting process, and she’s less able to see the bigger picture than you are, that eventually ‘da fellas’ are going to find themselves in less convenient relationships and begin to drop off your man’s social radar like flies in November once their chicks dig their hooks and begin laying down the law. That’ll eventually leave you as his best and maybe only pal---and if you can force yourself to appreciate ESPN on a nightly basis, then you may just find yourself nominated for Wife/Girlfriend of the Year.

Yesterday Muscle68 correctly identified the (post-Coleman) Ward for his second point and is now just one out of first place. I am getting the feeling that he’s a competitive dude, a trait I’m always respectful of… Which means we’re up to volume 7 of Name, That, Blogger! And as promised, the difficulty level is increasing:

I still haven’t decided between going to a frat party on Friday night, or just putting a handful of gummy worms in my panties. That way there’d be just as much action but without all the unwelcomed advances and loathsome, predictable fratboy interactions. "Want to come to my room and check out my CD collection, red?" Um, no. Get a life and then die, Ryan Seacrest-wannabe.

Whaddyathink?


Your answers please...


Who's Bad?

Tuesday, November 18, 2003



Michael Jackson
Bad (1987)
Leave Me Alone



Aaow!-Hoo Hoo!

I Don't Care What You Talkin'
'Bout Baby
I Don't Care What You Say
Don't You Come Walkin'
Beggin' Back Mama
I Don't Care Anyway
Time After Time I Gave You All Of My Money
No Excuses To Make
Ain't No Mountain That I
Can't Climb Baby
All Is Going My Way

('Cause There's A Time When
You're Right)
(And You Know You Must
Fight)
Who's Laughing Baby, Don't
You Know
(And There's The Choice That
We Make)
(And This Choice You Will
Take)
Who's Laughin' Baby

So Just Leave Me Alone
Leave Me Alone
(Leave Me Alone)
(Leave Me Alone)
Leave Me Alone
(Leave Me Alone)
(Leave Me Alone)
(Leave Me Alone)
Leave Me Alone-Stop It!
Just Stop Doggin' Me Around
(Just Stop Doggin' Me)

There Was A Time I Used To
Say Girl I Need You
But Who Is Sorry Now
You Really Hurt, You Used To
Take And Deceive Me
Now Who Is Sorry Now
You Got A Way Of Making Me
Feel So Sorry
I Found Out Right Away
Don't You Come Walkin'-
Beggin' I Ain't Lovin' You
Don't You Get In My Way
'Cause
(There's A Time When You're
Right)
(And You Know You Must
Fight)
Who's Laughing Baby-Don't
You Know?
(And There's The Choice That
We Make)
(And This Choice You Will
Take)
Who's Laughin' Baby?

So Just Leave Me Alone
Leave Me Alone
(Leave Me Alone)
(Leave Me Alone)
Leave Me Alone
Leave Me Alone
(Leave Me Alone)
(Leave Me Alone)
(Leave Me Alone)
Stop It!
Just Stop Doggin' Me Around
(Just Stop Doggin' Me)

('Cause There's A Time When
You're Right)
(And You Know You Must
Fight)
Who's Laughing Baby, Don't
You Know, Girl
(It's The Choice That We
Make)
(And This Choice You Will
Take)
Who's Laughin' Baby

So Just Leave Me Alone
Leave Me Alone
(Leave Me Alone)
(Leave Me Alone)
Leave Me Alone
Leave Me Alone
(Leave Me Alone)
(Leave Me Alone)
(Leave Me Alone)
Stop It!
Just Stop Doggin' Me Around
Leave Me Alone
Leave Me Alone
(Leave Me Alone)
(Leave Me Alone)
Leave Me Alone
(Leave Me Alone)
Leave Me Alone-Stop It!

Just Stop Doggin' Me Around
(Just Stop Doggin' Me)
Don't Come Beggin' Me
Don't Come Beggin'
Don't Come Lovin' Me
Don't Come Beggin'
I Love You
I Don't Want It
I Don't . . .
I Don't . . .
I Don't . . .
I . . .I . . ., Aaow!
Hee Hee!
Don't Come Beggin' Me
Don't Come Beggin'
Don't Come Lovin' Me
Don't Come Beggin'
I Love You
I Don't Want It
I Don't Need It


And with absolutely no passing of judgement or search warrant, now it’s time to come on down and Name, That, Blogger! (vol. 6):


For several months, Dell had planned a computer that would bring all the latest features together in a new cutting-edge machine targeted at the Gamer. The result of that effort is the Dimension XPS, a 3.2GHz computer in an enhanced case with a 460-watt power supply. While you can order Dimension XPS in many configurations, this unit was equipped with every top-of-the-line option on the list — including the 3.2 Pentium 4 on the Intel 875P chipset motherboard, SATA RAID with a pair of 250GB hard drives, a Radeon 9800 XT, Creative's top Audigy 2 sound card, 8X DVD+RW and 48X CD-RW, Logitech's top Z-680 5.1 speaker system, and a 16ms 20" flat-panel display designed for gaming.

If I’ve lost you then let me reel you back in by talking about any number of entertaining, sophomoric activities which I would (should) be partaking in with increased frequency if I weren’t such a belly-aching nerd (though seemingly proud of it) such as; drunk freshmen girls ripe for the taking (though not by lil’ ol’ me with no game), strip clubs (that I frequent only for the music since I’ve suddenly reduced my alcohol intake for no apparent reason), and/or bowel movements (there’s probably another one on the way anytime now) and the smells thereof.


Who dat?


So Predictable

Monday, November 17, 2003


I’ll never buy, or own, a Lillix album. I’m just being honest. In fact, I don’t believe I’ve ever purchased an album belonging to an all-girl group. The first Spice Girls joint doesn’t count either. That was ummm, for a friend, and I hated every minute of it. I will gladly admit to dowloading the Donnas’ "Take it Off" and "Play My Game" a couple years back---but my appreciation stopped just short of rushing out to Tower or Best Buy with a hellbent gottahaveit attitude. That’s not to say I won’t immediately stop what I’m doing anytime MTV takes a break from their crappy original programming to air a Lillix video. The little blonde that looks like a young Shakira is ah-ight (especially when she has her glasses on for promo shots), but it’s really the short-haired brunette drummer that I dig the most. There’s something very Mallory Keaton about her, and to be completely honest I’ve always been a bit intrigued by the lip (and tongue) piercing though I’ve never had any physical contact with either, and therefore don’t know exactly what it is that I’m missing.


My tastes are cooky and all over the place like that. While I do tend to favor big brown eyes and brunettes, the blonde drummer is my favorite Donna. It makes no sense, I know. Posh was my favorite Spice, though now skinnier, red-headed Ginger is making a strong push, even if she’s talentless, annoying and a heart-breaking bed jumper. Yeah, but now that I’m really thinking about it, brunettes have a significant advantage with me. Susanna was my, and your, favorite Bangle; little Jane was my favorite Go-Go; and the dark-haired short chick was my favorite Bananarama. Kelly’s my favorite Destiny’s Child, so there may be something about hair length in all of this too.

But the girl at the bar on Friday night had neither short hair, nor dark. It was definitely blonde and well past her shoulders. She was sitting with her back to me on a barstool and every so often would tug down at the bottom of her sweater that was threatening to show too much of the small of her back for her liking. Her jeans weren’t riding quite low enough to announce the presence or style of her panty selection for the evening, forcing me to draw my own conclusions. She was a beer drinker---a plus. Out of a glass---a minus. We exchanged glances, but I was working on a very short time frame before my presence was requested elsewhere. No hellos, no goodbyes, no numbers…

And less than 24 hours later I found myself in bed with a shoulder-length, brown-eyed brunette…

In the event you missed last night’s American Music Awards; Pink is no longer pink but sang her ass off acoustically, Metallica is "alternative," Macy Gray is crazy, J.C. Chasez is um…"fancy?," Timberlake and Fleetwood Mac were in Germany---though not together, Missy Elliot got her limo stolen (allegedly) and Luther Vandros, J-Lo and 50-Cent were winners but either too busy or bedprone to make an appearance…

In the event you came here looking for the next volume of Name That Blogger---come back tomorrow…

In the event you came here looking for Miss Hilton---Forget Paris. But I promise to remind you once she turns on the light, or when her playtime with a Playmate is released and available…


Home