Posts Tagged ‘joke’


Haha, definitely not me.

But that’s the topic of the picture I will be uploading on facebook.

And it will be of me in a black hoodie, bright pink lipstick, big black hoop earrings, hair curly and up, eyeliner, and my pose will be of me with my hip stuck out and an exaggerated, (and believe me when I say exaggerated) duck face.

And lips all out and puffed and slimy looking a duck with an overgrown beak.

Oh yeah. I think my lips actually got cramped during the few seconds needed to take the picture.

And you know what my captions going to be.

“Holllaaa!! Am I cool now? Or is the preferred term, ‘ratchet'”.

It’s going to be so perfect because all the smart people will understand and laugh their buttocks off.

A picture mocking all the silly girls in our school who think it is cool or cute to be loud, obnoxious, rude, and pose like a prostitute who just waded out of a duck pond?

I think, “yes.”

And I cannot wait to all the likes blow up.

I can just see it.


And hilarious.


Sometimes, when I’m feeling kind of confidence, I like to think of myself as witty, or perhaps even, dare I say it- funny.

And I enjoy myself and wonder where I could have possibly gotten these genes from.

Then I spend summer days hanging out with my mother and I realize.

There are so many things about my mother that will either make you laugh, or lift up an eyebrow in that way that you can only do when you can’t realize weather she was ridiculously amusing, or ridiculously weird.

I’ll let you be the judge of that.

One day, we were walking to the big park that was a few miles away. My siblings were riding their bikes up ahead, so I was stuck walking with my mother.

(Yes yes, I can’t ride a bike, laugh it out now, I sure have.)

And you know, I really didn’t want to walk side by side with my mother, maybe just a few steps ahead or something.

But there she was pulling my on the arm and linking hers through mines and grinning in that way that made me recoil and think, ‘Do you think you are my friend here?’

But you know, she’s my mom and she suffered through labor to pop me into this world and all so I wisely kept my trap shut and just allowed her to  walk my down the block, attached to my arm like some clingy girlfriend on a guy.

And she starts out with normal conversations- stuff about the weather and about my siblings and stuff.

But of course, that would be boring.

So then she sighs and looks at a woman that was walking by, facing us. And she asks me,

“How come you’re generation is so slutty? I mean look at that woman, I can practically see her nipples and her pants are so tight they are seeping into the crack of her vagina.”



Now how was I supposed to respond to that?

I’m pretty sure I just gaped at her for a few seconds before bursting out laughing.

Thank god she didn’t say it English, because she isn’t all that quiet about her insults.