Wednesday, May 18, 2011

When You Turn The Age of Your Bust Size, Keep Calm and Carry On.

Ciao fuckers!

I know I know I know I KNOW! I've been the most selfish hosebag, depriving you of my fractured fairytales. But Mummy is back possum, and I promise never to leave you again--unless it's to go to the liquor store.  It has been a very colorful past few weeks, and I was feeling a bit weary within my spirit.   I was even freaking out about my birthday--which I never do. I'm one of those birthday brats who will walk into a funeral and yell "Hey fuckers! It's my birthday! Whattya say we stiff this stiff and go get hammered! Who wants to make a margarita in my mouth?!!!"  Yes, that kind of birthday chick. One who celebrates it for days and days.

But this year was different. I was terrified of this birthday.  I kept thinking "I'm turning 3_ years old, and I don't have my shit together. I don't deserve to celebrate. I'm a loser. A poser. Broke. A joke. Debbie Downer. Pathetic Patty. Limp Dick DeAnna, they should call me. Step right up folks, to see the tears of a clown! Hurl insults at her for a dollar! I'm so sad. Oh would you like some cheese with that wine? Who needs a cake when there's constantly PIE in your face? Shut up, no you shut up haven't been to the dentist in over a year yuck mouth! And garlic doesn't solve everything! I think you have measles of the vagina. Get thee to the gyne dummy! Yeah, well you're the one with scabies! It's not scabies, it's just stress hives. I hate you. I hate you too mothafucka. Why don't you go sit on a thumbtack. Silly bitch. Go home. You're time is up." Yep. Those were the voices in my head. Having an all out brawl in my head. Everyday goddamned day.

So I said fuck it. I'm gonna sip on bong water and simply wait for the rapture to come. 
But then I remembered:
I ain't spilled blood for nothing. Fuck giving up.  I've got tits of steel, and it's gonna take a whole lot more to take this old hooker down.

Some days the adversity we face is maddening like back acne. You just get to a certain point in life and you keep thinking "COME ON!" I know some of you girls are chewing the insides of your jaw every time another friend becomes engaged to be married.  Sure you're happy for her--but between us girls, you're a lil tired of stocking up on D batteries, watching Drag Race reruns, and still shoving your muffin top into your camel toe jeans from Forever 21 that you bought when you were in your 20s. Then you flip out and eat everything you see, and end up having to shop at Lane Giant because your ass is huge.  And you think it's all because the dick karma is off. And you just say "Haven't I gnawed on enough uncircumcised, small, and underwhelming peckerwood penis' to earn Mr. Right? I need somebody to come in here and kill the spiders and de-ice the car in the wintertime."

*For the record, I love big girls so don't get snarky about big ass jokes. I happen to be thick and a apart of the Venus Hottentot tribe. Also I am not one of those women to get caught up about marriage and kids by a certain age. Because I'm quite sure that once Derrick Rose takes one look at me, he will want to fertilize my eggs. I will become pregnant, pop a kid out the cooter and one of my gay besties will raise the kid.  I'll become a darling of the gossip blogs, get a reality show, and eventually land an acting career and my life will have changed. Voila!

In the days of Lady Gaga, Madonna, Grace Jones and Rihanna we are used to seeing women change all the time.  But those are multimillionaire performance artists with armies of technicians to help their reinventions.  In real life women and men have to re-invent themselves, because we are forced to--not because we are on a magazine cover. It is apart of life, reinvention. We get evictions, can't pay child support, get shipped off to Iraq, the drug addled cousin can't take care of their children so YOU step in for guardianship. We get shortness of breath when it's time to take annual HIV tests, you move to a new city only to be fired, your credit score is a 230, you get bedbugs, your wife leaves you, your ex marries someone else after dating for 3mons. Whether your problem is big or small it still requires reinvention.  I struggle with a sense of entitlement because I often think I've worked hard, and so I should have this and that. But life doesn't always work that way.  I will still have to fight for my acting career despite a pretty good resume. Develop a strong writing muscle. And take on a mountain of responsibilities--including taking a long hard look at my self, and changing things...radically.  Liberation is not an esoteric thing. It is not promised to a small select few.  So my born day wish for you friend, is to take one small step towards truly honoring your life. Fight tooth and nail for reinvention. Everyday is your birthday. 
Welcome to the rebirth of Slick. 
Happy birthday fucker.


NEXT BLOG: Mel Gibson, Donnie Trump, and Arnold Schwarzenegger. The death of the White Man.


C2 said...

That's exactly what I needed to read today. I'm in tears. Happy Birthday, Slick, keep shining your light. (Yes, I am stalking you.)

Anonymous said...

Keep it comin', chica.

Docta Slick said...

Bless you both for reading. I can't wait until we're left behind after the rapture. Lets loot.