J.E.R.K.!!!

“You need to give it up…had about enough… it’s not hard to see…THE. BOY. IS. MINE.” Please tell me I’m not the only one that acts out both Brandy and Monica’s parts in the beginning of The Boy Is Mine. I do this no matter where I am. If I manage to catch this song from the beginning I switch into character real quick. When I’m Monica I roll my neck, use my hands a lot and cross my arms. When I’m Brandy I roll my neck (because neck rolls show whose boss), purse my lips and roll my eyes (just so you know while I was writing this i’m obviously acting it out as well). I have each character down packed/down pat…umm, urban dictionary gave me both options so I don’t know what to do with my self (just incase you don’t know what this means…it basically means to have it perfect). As I was saying my performance of The Boy Is Mine could win me both a Grammy and an Oscar!!

I’m trying this new thing where when I get a thought I want to write about I record my self. Because I’m a very forgetful person, I blame it on my self diagnosed ADD. I get so many ideas coming at me at once (especially when I’m driving), and by the time I open the notes app on my phone (I’m not sure if you knew, but it’s super illegal to like text and drive) or get a paper and pen (I know paper and pens/pencils still exist…its pretty incredible the things this paper stuff can do)…hold on I lost my train of thought…see what I’m saying even when I’m writing about how forgetful I am, I forget. Basically what I’m trying to say it that I completely forget what I was just thinking about at that moment. It’s happens to me all the time…I think I need to talk to someone about this… this cant be normal. Well I’m not normal anyway so I guess it works fine for me.

Anyway, I’m currently listening back to what I wanted to write about today…and it’s a doozer. I’m taking you on a short trip to my younger years. They’ll be several cameos from my slutties. But first I have to tell you that holy Cucamonga, I curse A LOT; and I just called myself an idiot for using Frovers fake name in my recording…ooo how I make myself laugh. Okay back to my flash back.

So back in the day, when myspace was cool, and who ever wasn’t on your top 8 meant that you didn’t give a shit about them, and whoever was booted off your top 8 meant…YOU F***ED UP real bad!

There was a group of slutties/sluttos that called themselves J.E.R.K. (No I’m not gonna tell you why…that’s later when you’ve earned my trust) any who these Slutties created THE longest list of rules to live by (I wanna say it was like 120 rules…Slutties correct me if I’m wrong…I don’t really remember). One of the rules (which was my favorite)…if possible in any scenario answer or speak in song lyrics! The best rules J.E.R.K. lived by were: F*** falling in love, ass before friends (we were real lady like back then), money before ass, and another good one was, your only allowed 1 good cry in front of the rest of us. It’s not like we were heartless bitches (all the time), we just didn’t/still don’t like too many of those things people call “emotions”. Now that were older and bitchy-er we don’t live by these rules anymore. Though we still do believe in Ass before friends; but I wanna say if one of us were really in trouble…then maybe we might think of helping each other…but it has to be really bad…like if you get arrested…I’m sorry your staying there till I’m done.

Well that was today’s episode. See you next time on…Life As A Moon (Vino Viernes edition).

 

Love Ya froimage1m the Moon and Back,

Emily (J.E.R.K. for life!!)

Ps. just wait till I tell you about the UN-DICTIONARY.

Four-Twenty (4/20)!!!

Happy Four-Twenty for all my pot heads/stoners out there!!! Today is your day to be free and smoke that: Ganja, that Mary Jane, that Weed, that good shit, that dope, that… okay I ran out of other ways to say marijuana…sorry I’m not really savvy in that department. For those of you that don’t know what 4/20 means (besides it being the 20th day in April, and obviously the day before my glorious birth) you shall find out right now!!! As my trusty Urban Dictionary has told me it’s a “smoking holiday”.

I learned about 4/20 in high school and I never really cared to look into why people get souped (I threw it back old school with that one kid, I’m just not sure if I spelled it right…sooped? Souped? Idk…whatever). Any way I never understood why people were so excited to smoke on this particular day when they smoked every other day…it made no sense to me. But today I’m going to look up (using Google of course, because Google is life and anybody who disagrees can shove it up their bum holes) the origin and meaning of 4/20.

I have returned after 20 mins of looking up the meaning of 4/20, and I’m just as confused as I was when I first started. Wikipedia just blabbed on about blah blah blah consumption of cannabis…blah blah blah cannabis subculture… blah blah blah cannabis itself. See what I mean, Lost as F…bleep. So I shall tell you what I think it means… it means; just go smoke some ganj with some of your home skillets (no I don’t mean frying pans…that’s just another way I say homies or “friends”) talk crap about what life means…you know get all philosophical and shit, and just munch out later.

In the spirit of Four-Twenty, I’ve decided with the help of two of my slutties (Big Booty Judy and Sluttie McSlutterson) and a slutto… a male sluttie, I couldn’t think of anything better at the moment I’ll make something real good up next time…(the gigolo…I don’t think I like this one I think I like slutto better…okay any way Sluttos name is Frienemy). Today we were talking about past (pass the dutch baby… shake shake shake your stuff ladies… that was courtesy of Missy Elliot) sorry I got distracted, past experiences we’ve had with Jane…Mary Jane…and I’ve decided to share two of my experiences with you lunatics. The first time I had some of that good shit I was like… okay I’m not going to incriminate my self and say how old I was because you know mum reads this…any way I was at a friends house and while I was at this persons house I started getting paranoid and wondering “holy shit what if my mum sees my eyes and just knows what I’ve been doing or “ and then I lost my train of thought because ganja did that to me on the reg (regular…I like to shorten words because I like how they sound). The next thing I remember from that day was having the WORST cottonmouth ever, wanting to eat everything in sight, and of course having the BEST sleep of my life!

This next time was the most recent and last time I ever smoked Mrs. Jane (I feel like if marijuana was a real lady she would be a married, respectable lady just trying to make some dough for her four kids and her Marine Vet Husband…idk, that’s just me). It was about five or six years ago and a couple of my friends from school (one of the many I’ve attended…I could seriously be a spokes person for indecisive people) as I was saying, a couple of my friends and I hot boxed in a car (for those who don’t know what hot boxed means: when you smoke in a small room, closet, bathroom, or in my case a car… where there are no open windows or doors, basically no where the smoke can escape to…it is only allowed to go in your mouth and nostrillies…nostrils I like to make up words from already made words). We smoked so many different kinds of weed, I didn’t know that was freaking possible, but we did; and I became a little on the sickly side. Once we got out of the car Slutty McSlutterson and I started walking to our dorm and I told her “yo I don’t feel good I think I have to throw up”, where she turned around and said some variation of… not out here stupid. But I either didn’t want to listen or I just couldn’t hold it in. I personally think I couldn’t hold it in, but who knows I was kind of an asshole
(still am at times)…so I looked around to make sure there was no CP (Campus Police) and threw up on the side of my dorm. After I threw up though I was totes (totally…I’ve already explained to you why I do this) ready for some munchies! Okie Dokie, I’ve said waaaaay too much and now it’s time for me to go…Peace Out Dudes!

The_73a028_1595659 Love Ya from the Moon and back,

Emily (I swears I don’t do that stuff anymore…but I’m not opposed to eating some special brownies *wink*)