Never a bad time.

Hi friends,

Today, I spent a couple of hours at the laundromat. After an hour or so, I got bored of staring at families with four dirty children, bummed-out single dudes, and shitfaced goth kids, and I took off to 7-11 for a while. After cruising for novelty candy for a bit, I ended up at the cash register with a slurpee. There were a couple of frat boys behind me, and one of them made a snarky comment about people drinking slurpees when it's cold outside.
You can insult my weight, my height, and my intelligence, but never, ever try to criticize my choice of beverages.
I turned around and got serious for a minute. "Look, fuckface, " I said, " There's never a bad time for a slurpee". Then, I bought a lighter with a stoned happy-face on it.
They have white rootbeer slurpee now, which is rad if you have problems with spilling things on yourself.
On the way out the door, a chubby old man winked at me. Score!

Point is, I've been busy, guys, and I'm sorry.
I know I've been a little absentee lately, but I've got a decent post on the way (and it's political... I know, I'm surprised, too!).

Okay, I've gotta go girl-crush all over Silverman's new season. I told you guys... So busy latley.

One love,

~sarah p.

Insta-Cred.

My whole life, I've always thought that having street-cred meant that you knew all of the words to a couple of Biggie songs, and could throw at least two gang signs without thinking too hard about it. This perception changed the other Thursday when I ended up with a bruised kidney, from getting my ass kicked by a bum. I usually prefer the word 'hobo' to 'bum', but in this case, 'hobo' seemed like too friendly of a word (like that charming fella that lives in the parking lot across from the Mustard Seed that told me I had 'nice tits' one time. That guy is a hobo).
Anyway, let me clarify: I was at work, and one of the bums got a little frazzled about a prescription that he felt he needed, and things got a little out-of-hand. I ended up walking out of work that day with a little bit of actual street-cred, for the first time ever. I hate to say it, but it felt gooood.

Here are some ways to get some insta-cred for yourself:

Facial Scars - It really doesn't matter if the scar on your face is from that one time when you were eleven, and you were skating around on one skate to impress a girl, or that one time last month when you tried to pop a wheelie on your bike (probably to impress a girl).... Everywhere you go, strangers will be wondering what happened to your face, and imaginations will be running wild.

More Than One Gang Color - If you go to Compton, and you wear a blue bandana, and a red bandana, and a yellow bandana, and a white bandana, you'll confuse all of the gangs, and everyone will just forget about all of the violence and have a great big block party in your honor. Well, either that, or you'll totally get yourself shot in the face (once again, gaining you insta-cred, so it's no big thing).

Getting in a fight under and (or all) of the following circumstances- while seriously injured, for a girl that doesn't even like you that much, with a bum or a cop (not provoked by yourself), or during a contest (where you decide, during the contest, that winning can go fuck itself, as fighting is way more important.... If that shit's not gangsta, then I don't know what is).



Don't get me wrong, street-cred can have it's downsides as well. What happens the next time on of my friends gets in a brawl? They'll be looking at me like "what's next, partna?", and I'll have to shrug my shoulders and look at the ground and think about bunnies or something. That part's not going to be as much fun, but in the meanwhile..... Watch your backs, I've got like a week or two of cred left, and I intend on using it.


Seriously, just kidding about that last part... The past couple of days, I've been too doped-up on Nyquil to get around to doing anything at all. I guess germs don't observe street-cred.

~sarah p.