Obama is coming to Brussels in April. I gave myself a long, hard look in the mirror and asked, can I get him to notice me?
"Yes you can!" replied Barack in the mirror. I blushed like a young girl at her first prom.
"You're leaving Michelle at home, right?"
"Baby, you know I only has eyes for you. You wanna be my ho? Well, shift that lilywhite butt out on the street and make me some money."
"Ooh daddy, I love it when you talk dirty."
"I ain't kidding, girl. That motherfuckin' white bread Bush administration done left me jack shit to get the economy restarted. I need my homeys out on the street corners dealing, and my ho's on they backs squealing. But you ain't gonna fit in no hotpants with a ass the size of Russia."
"Barack?"
"What, bitch?"
"D'you love me?"
"Girl, you a glutton fo' punishment! Ah gon' love you when you lose about twenty pounds. An' I gon' whup you white ass if you don't. Now git to work."
I got the message. I have to get fit to retain my self-respect as a woman.
"Yes you can!" replied Barack in the mirror. I blushed like a young girl at her first prom.
"You're leaving Michelle at home, right?"
"Baby, you know I only has eyes for you. You wanna be my ho? Well, shift that lilywhite butt out on the street and make me some money."
"Ooh daddy, I love it when you talk dirty."
"I ain't kidding, girl. That motherfuckin' white bread Bush administration done left me jack shit to get the economy restarted. I need my homeys out on the street corners dealing, and my ho's on they backs squealing. But you ain't gonna fit in no hotpants with a ass the size of Russia."
"Barack?"
"What, bitch?"
"D'you love me?"
"Girl, you a glutton fo' punishment! Ah gon' love you when you lose about twenty pounds. An' I gon' whup you white ass if you don't. Now git to work."
I got the message. I have to get fit to retain my self-respect as a woman.
20 comments:
I'll get the local witch doctor to put a hot weather spell on Brussels so Barack unbuttons his shirt for you, milady. No cat-fights though, that would be undignified.
Ooh, nothing like a stereotype, is there? But specially for you:
http://media.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/photo/2007/01/08/PH2007010801538.jpg
Now don't you be letting no man tell you what to do. I don't care whether he's black, white or polka dot - aint no difference. You gotta walk tall and proud and sing it good and loud.
Jes' keep in mind we sisters -we're doin in' it for ourselves.
P.S. The t=shirt might be a good idea.
Here, calm yourself Daphne, have a Cadbury's Creme Egg and a Marlboro Light...
Sx
Best t-shirt slogan sighted recently
'Obama is the new black'
Good luck with the man when he gets there, if he doesn't need a new ho try offering him a nice English crumpet for his tea
GB, we have plenty of Congolese witch doctors here in Brussels, they keep putting flyers in my letterbox. If he unbuttons his shirt, I'll be taken off to intensive care. As for catfights, you won't see me fighting over a man. If he's not giving me 120% of his attention, he's toast.
'Lycus, I can't do right for doing wrong today. I've been chastized by Mrs Pouncer for being PC! And now you seem to be saying the opposite. You should get out of London more.
Yo sistah, go sistah! You dam right girl. So what we supposed to do if Obama tells us to tighten our belts?
Get thee behind me, Scarlet! I haven't given up the fags, I just don't smoke while I'm working out.
Lulu, nice one! If I manage to come face to face with Obama I will remember to ask him if he fancies some crumpet.
P.S. But thanks for the picture, 'Lycus - I hope that's not a photoshop job, he looks a bit flabby around the midships.
daffers, it'll take more than all of us can pull in on our backs to get out of this mess. glad you get to see our man. i better get your new hat made. do you want all bananas or mixed fruit?
love, mme chapeau
I confess that I am immune to Barack mania. He is not my kind of alpha-male. I realise that this casts doubt upon my mental faculties, but he is just too smooth for me. Give me the rough, homespun, charms of Gordon Brown anyday. It's the brooding that does it.
If he ignores you, just shout out: "Hey, Hussein! Show me your weapon of mass distraction!"
It'll be very hard for him not to rise to the challenge.
Madame Chapeau, perhaps you'd better leave out the bananas, it could be misconstrued. How about passion fruit? BTW, why don't you link to your website next time, so everyone can see your original creations?
Madame DeFarge, it's not so much his smoothness, his slimness, or even his blackness that gets my juices flowing - it's The Voice. I think my erogenous zone must be in my earholes.
Krimo, should I preface that with an "Oy, mush!" Rory Bremner got very sniffy when I addressed him thus at a party. Well I'd been out of the country for many years.
would you consider a threesome?
Yo, sistah's, tell it like it is! (Didn't Marvin Gaye used to live in Ostend at one time?)
Does Madame DeFarge know Gordon has dandruff? Bless him!
BLING BLING nobody home.
Malcolm X and Martin King would be so proud to know that their sacrifice was not in vain.
I've read plenty of psychological profiling about da Pimpin' Ho thingamabob and believe me I have tried to see past the misogyny and asshattery and understand how this would look appealing to my bruthas from a different mutha...
what a frickin' tard!
Now just as empowering the women of Islam is the key to resolving the production of sociopaths in the Middle East, so too is the emancipation of the young urban ladies in America.
Honest to gawd..I mean really? Haven't the two ladies bitch-slappin' over this shortass pimp ever heard Beyonce's To The Left?
"You must not know 'bout me
I could have anutha you in a minute.
R-E-S P-E-C-T!
Seems to me like ol' Barry Boy means the same to you as Colin Farrell does to me.
SOMEONE is in need of a stiff one.
Nursie, not on your nelly. I'm a one-man woman. Even if the man is imaginary.
Gadj, Marvin did indeed live in a village near Ostend for a while, where he wrote Sexual Healing, possibly whilst under the influence of Westmalle Tripel.
Pat, why does that not suprise me. I'll ask Sarko to send him a bottle of Petrole Hahn.
Donn, suspend your disbelief for a moment. I often fantasize about you as a RCMP officer, in high heels, suspenders and a bra. It doesn't mean I think any less of you.
Papercuts, I have only seen your Colin in "In Bruges" where he played a bit of a dimwit. And his nose is too small for his face. He looks like a man who might expect you to pay for dinner.
ok :-)
may I have him when you've finished then?
Really, Daphne. I mean to say! Reign yourself in before all dignity is left in tatters around your not inconsiderable feet. You seem to have got in with the wrong crowd, if you don't mind me saying, and you KNOW where that leads, don't you? It leads to tears and self-reproach; to guilt and recrimination; to almost uncontrollable weight-gain, followed by binge drinking and prescription medication. Before too long, you find yourself a slave to daytime TV and kaftans. By March you may well be drinking de Kuyper before 10 am, and a member of the Michael Ball Fan Club. Snap out of it, for the love of God. Cxx PS Arriving in Bruges 9th Feb. Any chance?
Daphné,
The crossing of the Siberian desert to the research of the pink mammouth, is the reason of my absence where more exactly, the witch to the green teeth, she threw herself on me harshly, the globules in boiling, soft of the genou,the guibolles that wobble, the ankles that twist themselves, brief! the flu.
What immortal health comes down of the sky to have care of all your days! as said Voltaire, Ouai!
I thank you for your vows and in return I offer you mine in exchange, as well as has your tenant "Love, Joy, Happiness and Health"
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