I have a twitter account. Ok, I have two twitter accounts. I follow people. A few people follow me (why, I haven't figured this out yet). I follow Warren and Ariana on twitter. A few days ago, they were bantering about with one another.
So tell me, how does one get someone else drunk unless they are there in person?
a) do something bad enough to cause them to want to drink - Warren has more stuff for her to work on
b) personally hand them a drink - they will see each other in person
This has been decomposing in my brain. It needs to leave.
Do you know the meaning of what I just wrote? I don't know if I should tell you and spread this thing, but both my good conscience and evil conscience are whispering "fuck it" in my ear.
Us Brazilians, always experts in being useless, have given a name to the sexual act of sticking a penis in someone's anus or vagina. We call it "créu" (pronounced "K-reh-w"), and now, every time we listen to someone say something like "his car was hit by a truck in an intersection", we say "créu!" and mimic the motion of inserting the penis, creating an astoundingly clever metaphore of a bigass truck hitting a tiny car. I dunno if this word comes from other language, but it definitely feels like something a Brazilian would create.
That wouldn't bother me, normally. It actually causes some quite funny moments (although it becomes old very fast). What bothers me, what drives me out of my fucking mind... is that someone went and made a song out of it.
Here in Brazil, we have the famous "favelas", our version of "the projects", more or less. Unlike popular belief, most people in the favelas are honest, hard-working people. The rest of the people, though, are drug traffickers or work for them. And in the favelas, a new kind of music was born: funk.
Our version of funk is not James Brown's kinda funk. It's called Favela Funk. It's the most ridiculous, unbelivable piece of shit you can possibly imagine. It's less painful to blow a flashbang in your ear. So obviously, it's quite successful here. Hugely successful, actually. Always the same music, only changing the lyrics, which are always shit. There's a song in which the guy sings about his horse, which he calls pocotoh (our onomatopoeia for the sound of a horse's gallop). The other is about a woman who goes into a doctor's office and begs for him to stick his "syringe" in her ("It hurts but I can take it", is a rough translation of one of the worst bits).
So, some fuck called Sergio Costa created a song called "Dança do Créu" (Créu Dance). The song's lyric is basically 90% "créu créu créu créu créu créu (...)" and the rest is the guy talking to the audience, "do it sideways now! Two steps back, two steps right!". Guess what's the dance move you're supposed to make when the guy says "Créu"?
This could have been a quick laugh and then thrown into the garbage can. But no. It's a hit. Let me say that again: a fucking hit. I went to a birthday party and had to listen to that fucking song. I see everyone talking about that fucking song. And worst: today I saw a newspaper, one of those cheap-ass papers, with a headline on the fucking FRONT PAGE saying the woman who famously dances "Dança do Créu", called Melancia ("Watermelon" in Portuguese. According to Brazilians, because it's so tasty you can't eat one alone. Get it? "Alone"? Uh? UH?) is going to show her body in Playboy magazine. In the front page. Okay, it's a cheap ass "let's give people the news they want" newspaper, but even THAT is below their standards. The headline said "Melancia is going to show off her crééééu in Playboy".
The song. With Melancia dancing it three minutes into the video. Click on it at your own will.
Please, PLEASE, tell me something in the comments that'll make me realize there's countries in which music is actually worse. There are, right? Right?
In short? I'm rather confused. We can canceled the cable a while ago, but it and everything else is still working, and no one's come to remove the crap. We are switching to AT&T; from my grandparents I understand the tv is satelite, who knows what the phone line will be, and I will be getting a "box of the internet" in the mail, and everything will somehow make since once the box has arrived, and after various lines and whatnot are installed. Good news is that this means my little crappy tv will supposedly get TV channels after this, so I can watch what I want to, when I want to. I hope this stuff is as easy as my grandmother says it will be; as from her description I'm not sure the type of tv, and phone and everything else we really are getting. She doesn't sound happy with the changes or the customer service, and I suggested checking out other companies first or talking to my mother, who's gone through several satalite companies, but *shrugs* what do I know?
In anycase, I've got twitter working pretty well. Better than nothing.
p.s.- there's a picture of the ><;> -shaped brand I accidentally did to my hand. Got a little too close to the space heater. OOPS!
in a moment of desperation, feeling trapped at work and unable to move forward, surrounded by ick at home (not filth, just a few dirty dishes, because my standards are that weird now) i decided to play with yarn. not in reaction to the bad, but because the work brain wasn't working and i needed something to think about.
friend of mine sent me a few CDs (along with a fantastically long letter) few weeks back, and i hadn't listened to them yet. so i did. it was all new to me, and i got to feel happy at new stuff and really pissed off at whiny stuff and finished both slippers finally and washed them and started a skirt (did the gauge swatch and everything) in a fun ripple stitch in impossibly inappropriate for a woman my age colors.
and it felt right. felt good. felt like this is what i'm supposed to be doing. and my dreams confirmed it.
dreamt of the word waff - don't know what it means, but it was in a dictionary i was reading. and there was an adventure - blowing things up and in the snow and a whole group of us and a complicated plan. and we won. we lived.
so. now it's about getting the rest of the poop in a group. gotta keep the gig for a while, need the income and the insurance. may have to get another one for a few months, to get more comfortable and pay off some more medical bills.
i forgot that playing is what i do.
i forgot that sometimes it sucks.
the skirt is completely silly, but i'm glad for it - i think i will make many more of them. you will see. i will share. and that comic that i've been dreaming? yeah, i do not know how that's going to come to life, but i have fear that it will.
psychic grandmothers... genetics... certainty is a bitch.