Random Ramblings II

Posted: October 20, 2011 in Music, Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , , ,

WARNING: This… is UBERSEXUAL. If your ass is wound uptight, do not proceed. Chances are you’ll get so mad and get an even more uptight ass that you won’t be able to shit again and will die of constipation and your epitaph would read: John/Jane Smith, Born who-the-fuck-cares, Died no-one-still-cares. He/she/it died with a mouthful of shit. Literally. You have been warned.

Hey y’all! How y’all doing? No of course I do not really give a shit how you’re doing, dumbasses; it’s not as if any of you asked how I’M doing, and since you didn’t, I’m going to go right ahead and tell you how I’M doing, because, (a) it’s all about me, and (b) I fully intend to piss you off. Don’t gimme that self-righteous look! Everyone’s a narcissist… I’m just a better person than you all are, because I’m not afraid to be honest and be who I truly am – a narcissist of the first order.

Enough of that for now. I’m willing to bet you’ve been wondering why this is just coming in. Well I’ve been busy… falling in and out of love, falling back in again, doing digital marijuana, absinthe and hash, and such advanced meditation that Deepak Chopra and the Dalai Lama have booked appointments that I may share insights from my new found, infinite well of knowledge… Shit, my seven chakras are WAY more open than the legs of every slut in every red light district on planet earth put together… Okay, now I’m no longer making sense to myself. Ah well. Let’s just say, life’s been so grand that I totally forgot you all existed. Shit, I even forgot I existed (the latter being a colossal mistake I intend to avoid repeating). But out of the goodness of my heart, and my abominable love for ye mortals, I have decided to briefly get my flyy ass off my pedestal and bless you with this “trashicle”. Bask in the glory of my glory while you can. I do not intend to make this a habit. If you have an issue with me, especially as regards this paragraph and the one before, well, that’s too bad. Here’s a dildo. Make yourself happy.

¬\-O-/-

And now that I have insulted you to my fill, let’s get to it. For those of y’all not familiar with me and my writing – and why the fuck not – I have a remarkable talent for writing about absolutely nothing. I’d apologise for tooting my own horn, but I wouldn’t. I mean, that would be like apologizing for rubbing my own clit. I like it. It’s fun. Point, blank, menses (“menses” means the same thing as “period,” doesn’t it?)

While we’re on the topic of “pleasuring” oneself, I’d like to talk about motorcycles, or as we like to call ‘em in Nigeria, “okadas.” Motorcycles are very sexual machines. Why? Because they vibrate. I could stop right there, and let your minds go on and expatiate upon that, but no, I’ll just help out. Because I’m nice like that. No, not really. I’m only going to bother expatiating because believe it or not, there are people out there who have absolutely no imagination, and I’m not about to assume y’all are that smart, so yes, I will go ahead and insult your intelligence. The way I see it, an unwarranted insult beats an undeserved compliment.

So why does the fact that motorcycles vibrate make them sexual? If you’re a dude – I’m only guessing about this – they probably tickle your balls. One thing Hollywood has taught me is that for some reason, getting your balls tickled is supposed to be very erotic. (I’m curious, IS it?) If you’re a chick… well duh! It VIBRATES. BETWEEN YOUR LEGS.Do I honestly need to say any more? O_o ( For all we know, the bike probably does a better job than your boyfriend’s lil’ pecker.) Furthermore, motorcycles are very sexy for tonnes of reasons. One of them being Nicki Minaj bouncing up and down on a motorcycle made of ice. Just look at that face: Quick note: “Your browser may not support display of this image.”

Oh… Ooooh yeeeeah! Givvit to me baby…


Oh, Nicki, you bad, bad girl… and you too, you bad, baaaaad motorbike…! No, my hands are not currently downstairs – how could I possibly type and play with myself, huh? Frickin’ perverts! You know, on a second thought that would be #badass. So maybe I AM doing both.

Back to the motorbikes, another reason they are so sexy is not just because Hollywood paints them that way, but because it’s an awesome way for a dude to get boobs pressed up against his back. When I “fly bikes,” as we call it, I do my best to avoid this, but on occasion, the “okada man” would encounter a pothole, and bump! There go my Nina and Tina against his back. And I have encountered a few who would slide as far back as possible on the bike so my twins would have no choice but to be crushed. Oh…*sob* my poor babies! So if you’re a dude and you haven’t quite been able to get laid in all your over-two-decades-or-more on earth, becoming an Okada man is sure to alleviate your depression somewhat. Oh, and make sure your bike’s made of ice, so you can pretend the girl’s making Nicki-sex-faces because of you, you sad sonovabitch.

While we’re still kinda sorta talking about Nicki Minaj, I wanna use this opportunity to talk about those who keep going on and on about subliminal messages in music videos and movies and the whole illuminati agenda. I only got one thing to say to y’all. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. No really. Yeah maybe some of you reading this think I, instead ought to be grateful they’re pointing all this shit out. But I’m mad. Unapologetically so. Look how much they fucked up my mind, and took away my sweet, sweet innocence and naivety (assuming I had any to begin with). Now, because of people like Vigilant Citizen, I think this frame from Nicki’s “Super Bass” was deliberately set up to look like a dick and two balls. Ice cold balls, to be precise. Either that or it just ejaculated and is covered with a lot of semen. Yeah that’s most likely it. And the fact that the balls are cups most likely is planting a subliminal message in our minds to swallow the semen. So if you’re a dude and you find yourself enjoying this video, then like Riley would say, “nigga you gay.” Or at least you will be in due time – and all because you wanted to check out that crazy sexy chick with the bod that commands Peters to stand at attention. Quicknote: “Your conscience may not support display of this image.”

Oh Look! A dick and two smoking balls!

And then, this next picture has Nicki doing the one-eyed illuminati symbol thingy (look that shit up. I ain’t even gonna go there). Quicknote: “Your Stupidity may not support the display of this image”

Ooh! Ooh! Two rock hard penis-speakers and the one eyed sign to boot!

On top of that, look at the speakers. They’re phallic in shape. They look like rock-hard, ice cold penises. (I wonder what screwing an ice penis is like.) And now you know exactly what Nicki meant by “boom-booloomboom-boom-booloomboom-eh.” Nicki… You naughty, naughty girl.

So, I have this question for VC and Vigilant Cittizen die hards: now that thanks to you, we can spot everything Illuminati in practically everything), what exactly have you achieved, other than giving the Illuminati the publicity they most likely deliberately seek after? Oh I got a few more questions. So if one of the Illuminati signs is the one-eyed thing, and I have two eyes, does that make me two times Illuminati? You know, I just WISH I knew all this symbolism shit back when I was in secondary school. Cuz then I hated math, and I coulda used this as an excuse to solve one less math problem.

Teacher: Why didn’t you do your math homework?

Me: (clutching rosary) because my mommy says the Pythagorean theorem is demonic, because it has to do with triangles and triangles are like pyramids, and pyramids have to do with the Illuminati and the Egyptians who tortured God’s people back then.

Teacher: I don’t care. That’s just ridiculous. You’re doing your math. And why didn’t you do your English?

Me: Because I looked through all the words in it and found that all the letters that make up the words pyramid, triangle and Illuminati in them. Vigilant Citizen’s taught me to be vigilant like that. (Clutching rosary harder, rocking back and forth)

Teacher: Okay, nice try. You’re doing your homework, and that’s final.

Me: (Stops rocking) You know ma’am, technically doing my homework would entail me putting it in between my legs and shoving it in and out… (standing up pointing at teacher with rosary in hand and yelling theatrically) You want me to insert triangles and pyramids and the Illuminati into myself so that I can give birth to the spawn of Satan, don’t you? You want me to birth the anti-Christ! That’s what this homework thing is about! Curses upon you, I say! Thou art possessed of a demon! I shall now exorcise you! Expelliarmus! Obliveé! The demon won’t leave… I’m going home to call my mom. Mooooommyyyyyyy!!! (running out the door then turning back briefly and pointing at teacher) Avada Kedavra! (running out)

And that’s how I woulda got away with not doing my homework AND gotten more time to go back home and watch some more Harry Potter while playing Summoner 2 and Soul Reaver at the same time. Yup. Multi-tasking. Cuz I’m #badass like that. B)

So if you’ve stuck with me till now, I’m betting you’re wondering what kinda sick twisted mind would write all this. Stop tasking your brains. I’ll tell you why I’m this way. When I was a kid, I made a habit of burying my nose into the couch whenever the visitors we had at home would leave the house. No, I kid you not. At first I started doing that because I really liked their perfumes… after that I discovered farts were even better. I got high off of ‘em. But then again, I have always been able to get high off of anything. At some point I must have inhaled some very toxic fart that messed fried my circuits. You know what’s even more messed up about this? I taste EVERYthing I smell, VERY acutely. No I kid you not. And yet I kept inhaling. What?! Don’t judge me! You’ll never understand! Bloody mortals! Argh!

And now I return back to my pedestal. Sharing from my infinite fount of wisdom and knowledge does have its adverse side effects. Y’all should be fucking grateful to me. Are you feeling fucking grateful to me? No? *Striking six hundred and sixty six of you with thunder and brimstone* Anyone else not feeling fucking grateful to me?! HUH?! That’s right. That’s much better. Bow down and worship. Lower. It makes my toes curl. Oooooh yeah. We’re done here.

Authored by Vanessa;
Vanessa is one of our admins here at La Critique flyyness@gmail.com. Follow her on Twitter @Call_Me_I
follow La Critique on Twitter @LaCritique_ng, We are on facebook too http://www.facebook.com/TheCritiques

Comments
  1. hahahaha!!loving it!!! more please!!!

  2. yeNzer says:

    Why am I even about to bother? It’d just make ur toes curl up a bit more anyways

  3. Don Mutombo says:

    I only wanna ask a question,,,WILL YOU MARRY ME???

  4. Wen Topper says:

    Truly beneficial content, thankful I came across this web site, Cheers.

  5. Kunle Blazes Olawale says:

    Vee, you do have a problem! Yup! You need some serious straffing! The only way u can talk about straffing so unabashedly is cos u read about it. You need practice! A cure for ur itch!

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