If this blog was a newborn infant, it would be wrapped in a hefty bag, blue, with its umbilical cord still attached, hanging on for dear life in a dumpster. I've been ignoring my blog the way Madonna ignores little Rocco and Lourdes. It's just plain wrong. I'm turning over a new leaf, I swear. I'm going to up in your respective kool-aid at least 3 to 4 times a week from here on out. No DCFS case worker will be knocking on my door.
Here's a little lunch time sumpin sumpin.
I've got a sketch (btw, I've been posting them to right--check them out) planned for my Monday night class--one that utilizes something called "clash of context." When our teacher tried to explain it to us, we acted like we all ride the short bus. She seriously was getting frustrated and let us out early.
Anyway, so here's what I'm thinking. Laura Bush and Condi Rice are hanging out like a couple of girlfriends, drinking, chatting, watching Extra! It comes out that Laura didn't vote for Dubya. And I want Condi to be uber-ghetto and over the top, so I asked my coworker who teaches me all the inside lingo. And this is what I got:
Man Up: step up to the plate, be a man, etc.
Don't get cut: literally--dont' get stabbed, etc., figuratively--don't get a verbal lashing
Pour the tea: get the business done
Don't get a beat down (also heading for, or looking for a beat down)- Don't get your ass kicked.
Talk to the hand: I already knew that one
Get your end up: Get off your ass
It should be a good one.