Tag Archives: writing

3 Salty Reasons You Miss The Fries at the Bottom of the Bag

Leftovers from this song. What, you thought I was gonna cook you up something new? Haaa! Nah, but, speaking of that post, I want to take y’all behind the scenes of its structure. It’s in 3 parts. 3 parts that symbolize the 3 breaks you get at work. The beginning is your lunch break. Then after the chorus it’s your 15 minute break. Then the outro represents the last hour of work and finally flying out that door like you should be doing right now. It’s 5. Yeah, thought went into this. I’m so strategic you wouldn’t believe it-50 Cent

You eat out the bag

“For dine-in or take-out?” “Take out.” Half-way out the door you change your mind and sit. Do you A) Turn the bag into a makeshift serving tray by ripping one side of the bag open? Or do you B) Just eat out the bag, reaching back and forth? Choosing the latter will have you throwing away a few French fry crumbs, unless, of course, you treat the bag like a bag of chips and pour the fragments in your mouth. Be sure to shut your eyes from the salt.

The color of the napkins and the bottom of the bag

From watching fast food workers bag my items over the years, I’ve noticed they always put the napkins in the bag last. I assume this is because, say, if they put them in first they may get wet with grease stains. When I eat out the bag I don’t take the napkins out; I just move them around the bag as I pick out what I want. In the end they always end up on the bottom. Restaurant napkins are what color usually? A plain brown. What color is the inside of the bag usually? Same thing. So when the napkins are at the bottom they could be covering at least 9 fries.

You are use to being skimped on fries

With McNuggets, you know there are 10 or 20 pieces. With a Double Quarter Pounder, you know it will have two beef patties. Since there isn’t an exact number of fries that’s suppose to go in the carton, the person on the fries, and you, judge them by weight and how they look in the box. If you can see any of the white and yellow stripes on the inside they aren’t full. And for God’s sake, wear your glasses when you’re doing this or the yellow stripes will look like fries. Last thing we need is you eating cardboard. Sometimes when you do get those overflowing fries two things can happen to make you feel like you still got cheated. While they’re in the bag fries can go over the top or be pushed out the holes at the bottom of the carton. Always check the bag. At least ball the bag up when you throw it away instead of leaving as is; this way if you feel anything poking from the inside you know it’s a salty snack.

And one more thing … I do got something new in the oven for y’all. SWB? WRWK? PB3? MO? Who knows. Keep this on your stomach until then.

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Big Spoon and Little Spoon Get a Room (Pillow Talk)

When you talk about bringing home the bacon you my tablespoon

When you talk about in sickness and in health “say yes” you my soup spoon

When you talk about raising our babies you my silver spoon

When you talk about talk is cheap and basic you my plastic spoon

When you talk about shit that they did you my teaspoon

When you talk about things that me squint like Asians you my Chinese spoon

When you talk about no other worm gets your fish baited you my salt spoon

When you talk about being decorated in your occupation you my souvenir spoon

When you talk about retiring from our dream vocations you my caddy spoon

When you talk about your breast I’m patient you my grapefruit spoon

When you talk about waking up to each other every morning breath smelling like “say less” you my coffee spoon

When you talk about whatever it’s always on beat with my heart you’re amazing you my love spoon

FY,
Har+new

Kiss Peace

Dance Like You’re In An iPod Commercial

Hello Miss Lovely, paving stones light up when you walk
She don’t say nothing but, baby makes her blue jeans talk
The dirty denims she’s donning tell me they’re in a relationship with white shirt
Is there room for the genuine, the whole club was looking at her
Ghost of Bowie speeding through the dance hall like a rocket
Eight references but you got a thousand songs in your back pocket
You sound like an iPod commercial

One more thing
One one one more thing
One more
One one one more thing
Notice I said that with my thumb up

Line your white lines where your shadow is cast, curb role
And dan-dance like you’re in an iPod commercial
And dan-dance like you’re in an iPod commercial
And dan-dance like you’re in an iPod commercial
Dan-dance
Dan-dance
Dan-dance
Dan-dance
Da-da-damn, damn

I don’t know why I made the letter Y as if this cocaine was the chalk
And her skin was the black board, I just wanted the line to end where my tongue was gone be used for more than to talk
What happen to your head? You look like Dave in Back To The Future
I didn’t get high before this, I’m sure, are you sure? I’m sure
All of her features disappeared from her body
And I was overcome with nostalgia for my days in college
You look like an iPod commercial

One more thing
One one one more thing
One more
One one one more thing
Notice I said that with my index

Line your white lines where your shadow is cast, curb role
And dan-dance like you’re in an iPod commercial
And dan-dance like you’re in an iPod commercial
And dan-dance like you’re in an iPod commercial
Dan-dance
Dan-dance
Dan-dance
Dan-dance
Da-da-damn, damn

I wanna issue out a challenge
It’s kind of violent
Don’t look up from your phone until you run into a fucking pole
Slide up and down, swing round and round, nobody’s watching the fishbowl, go
Nobody’s watching the fishbowl, go
Nobody’s watching the fishbowl, go
Go, go
They’re so distracted by their new pet bird
Teaching it how to talk with no character in its words (word!)

Fly my freak flag half-staff
I killed your whole staff (funerals make me laugh kekekeke)
Pledge allegiance to me bitch
Take a knee, CLEAN UP ON AISLE SIX
Right right right where the leftover rice iz (shit!)
I got ice cream, let me muthafuckin’ skip, I got you little sis’, don’t even trip, mama ain’t sign that permission slip (you can’t go!)

One more thing
One one one more thing
One more
One one one more thing
Notice I said that with my middle finger

Fuck you!

Here Come The Mama With Her Babies

Can I go with you?
My clothes won’t do?
I went up to my room and changed like you told me to
I was singing “skirt skirt” from my favorite song
When I heard “skirt skirt” in real life, your car was gone
No, no, don’t go, I beat on the window
Yeah yeah to mama’s “there there” don’t lie to me like he did, tell me did you know, where you involved? yes or no?

My daddy played a trick on me, my daddy tricked me
It’s been 8 hours, tell me do you miss me?
My daddy played a trick on me, my daddy tricked me
It’s been 9 months, tell me do you miss me?
My daddy played a trick on me, my daddy tricked me
It’s been 18 years, do you even remember me?

Get, get, get, get out the way please
Here come the mama with her babies
Get, get, get, get out the way please
Here come the mama with her babies
1, 2, 3
A, B, C, E, Z
1, 2, 3
A, B, C, E, Z

Only big people can go?
But dad I’m not a little person no mo’
Come and see mama had to mark another line on the wall
She say I look like you,
And I act like you,
But why do I need to be big and tall like you when sitting on your shoulders will do?
Like to pretend I’m washing your hair while I’m up there
Making TV static noise, little sister looking like “hey, no fair”

Come on, come on, come on daddy
Come on, come on, come on daddy
Come on, come on, come on daddy
Catch up slow poke we leaving ya
Funny, he’s the one who ended up leaving us

Get, get, get, get out the way please
Here come the mama with her babies
Get, get, get, get out the way please
Here come the mama with her babies
1, 2, 3
A, B, C, E, Z
1, 2, 3
A, B, C, E, Z

Stay with me, play with me
I don’t want a new dad
Stay with me, play with me
I miss how we use to dance
Stay with me, play with me
Mama tell me “no” so loud
Stay with me, play with me
Daddy tell me “yes,” his voice way down
Stay with me
Play with me
Stay with me
Play with me
Stay with me
Play with me
Stay with me (stay with me)

Skeletons In My Closet who Took Forever to Get Ready

Broken hangers

Skeletons in my closet who took forever to get ready

About time they finally put on “oh this old thing” they were casket sharp

Let’s give a big hand to The Late Har-old L. Weak, ladies and gentlemen!

Now that goes for the cheer-ren too, let me get a little hand

We meant it when we said trying our Father’s thyme on some cal and deer was gonna have ya moving your seconds hand around like ya wanted to clock somebody

Ya got Sir Wallingford on his hands and knees with Tweety Bird, Twitter Bird, Bryan Williams’ Birdman, Michael Keaton’s Birdman flying around his head

And you on your damn hands and knees for a different reason, begging please, making my flesh crawl

Boy, if you don’t …


I lied down with a dog but I didn’t get up with fleas

I woke up with what I thought was a cold sweat then I realized the company I keep

6-week-old Rottweiler, Pitbull mix I call Darkman after my favorite rapper

Licks my face when I’m sleeping like a Behr to let me know it’s time to paint the town red

Grab my coat for the sure wind

More Benjamins ‘cause X likes to live Royal

Concealed my Ace’s hardware incase I have to make these jokers PPG and get Lowe

Damn if I take any longer to get ready X gonna give it to me and have my place looking like a Shih Tzu

And I’ll only be identified by the teeth of my skeleton key, the canine, on the way out that revolving door is gonna hit you

Slow Dancing To Rap Songs

I slow dance to rap songs, rap songs, rap songs

Gliding my fingers along the row of volumes
Turning up in my sexy Librarian costume
Shh-shh-shaking my foot, sitting pretty with my legs crossed
Ho-ho-hoping my heels come unstrapped and slip-and-slide off
Bambi eyes, elf ears, my heart’s cold
The only thing I hold near and dear is the very thing that gives me a red nose
Stolen credit cards lining up coke on my cola
Your lawyer can’t scare me with a skinny tie and empty manilla folder, soldier

The drinks came too fast
The cars go too fast
The lanes open too fast
Life’s moving too fast
Didn’t grandmama tell ya ya ya to stay away from uh them fast tail little girls? (Ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya)

I slow down the words to your rap songs
Nelly baby sing it to me you got a beautiful voice why don’t you sing it to me come on baby sing it to me
I’m slow dancing to your rap songs
Eminem baby bring it to me you look like you can move why don’t you bring it to me come on baby bring it to me

Gliding along the hardwood desk with my mani-manicure
Until I have an excuse to bend over in my dress and touch my pedicure
Important stack of papers flying everywhere
Everything out of order except the vrin-vrin-vending machine
Shh-shh-shaking for my dollar
Billie Jean beat it ‘til I holla
Let the chips fall where they may
Long as when I’m able to walk again they’re all in my way, okay?

The drinks came too fast
The cars go too fast
The lanes open too fast
Life’s moving too fast
Didn’t grandmama tell ya ya ya to stay away from uh them fast tail little girls? (Ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya)

I slow down the words to your rap songs
Max B baby sing it to me you got a beautiful voice why don’t you sing it to me come on baby sing it to me
I’m slow dancing to your rap songs
Loaded Lux baby bring it to me you look like you can move why don’t you bring it to me come on baby bring it to me

Where’s the fire?
Take your time
Where’s the fire?
Take your time
Baby, where’s the fire?
Take your time
Boy, take your, take your time
Where’s the fire? (Where?)
Where’s the fire? (The roof?)
Where’s the fire? (The booth)
Where’s the fiyah?

Them country boys never hurt little ‘ole me
Them country boys never hurt little ‘ole me
I put my life on the line

WordPressident #13

Our bottom lips sticking together as we pull away from the kiss
The hug dies in our arms
Scratch on our ring fingertips as we let go of each other hands
Walking away from each other backwards with clean backgrounds
Not taking no L’s, falling in the hole of the O, getting hit by a V, crashing into a dam snake oil salesman who claims his Dell didn’t always have a tilted E
The barbecue sauce on my ribs
So I know you’re the HIS in Memphis
Okay, well, maybe for a season after I saw too much skin I bundled up and got my meat cumin spiced on a spring mattress
She was leaving before you entered the picture
Don’t act picture-perfect as if you’ve always been the lady on the other side of the noodle
Not a put-down of your frame but you know the real reason I place my hand on the small of your back in public
Sometimes to guide you to a first-class seat
Sometimes to guide you down a flight of stairs
The apple bottom of my eye is rotten sometimes
A worm on the inside, a real pain in the ass, you know
But, but, I love her to the core
Not just when she’s a snack, Apple Slices
Not just when she’s breakfast, Apple Jacks
Not just when she’s lunch, Apple Bee’s
Not just when I’m thirsty, Apple Cocktails
Not just when she’s dinner, Apple Jacks
Not just when she’s dessert, Apple Pie
When the groceries fresh I don’t need plastic
When they pass the expiration date I double bag it
Let’s eat …