I'm So Great: The Rantings of a Jaded Youth

When I grow up, I want to be just like me.

Stephen Colbert/Hitler Slash Anyone? July 31, 2011

It’s funny the things that surface after years of being forgotten. In 2005 I created a second fake LiveJournal account. My first had been a fiery Latina who had been masterminded by my bff Brittany and I, but no one was very interested Clementina. LiveJournal is a complete vag-fest so who cares about another chick? When we had Clementina tell all the LJ Daily Show slash groups to petition the Daily Show for on-air man-on-man correspondent make-outs (I was obsessed.), the vote was split between all the girls who were young enough to think it was a great idea and all the women who knew that celebrities are human beings and were outraged.

When Clementina went down in a hail of metaphorical gunfire, a second account was created as a gay teenager named Chad. Now eyebrows were raised. A cute gay boy who was interested in all the same things as the girls?! Squeee! Chad became an instant hit. All the girls loved him. I had physical pen pals that I wrote to (sorry about that) and Chad was invited to meet girls at Anime Expo and the premiere of Harry Potter 4. I was 16 and I spent a lot of time exchanging slash fanfiction so it was only a matter of time before I started contributing. I ran across a group that was so ridiculous that I had to contribute. Who could say no to HitlerSlash? So I wrote a very short fanfiction using the thing I was most obsessed with at the time: Stephen Colbert.

Last night, a few days shy of a full 6 years later, the subject of fanfiction came up and I thought of this immediately. The friend who brought fanfiction up in the first place doesn’t even believe I wrote it because his girlfriend told him he had to read it literally this week. Too fabulous!

 

Awkward Sexual Dream January 31, 2011

Okay, I wrote a new song. It’s a little short, but I couldn’t imagine adding a single word. Sorry, coworkers, I’ve had a sexual dream about all of you without exception. (Okay, not really, but just assume I’ve been doing you in my sleep anyway.) Also, if you see me sneaking a sideways look, it’s because I was recording this at work as all the kids were walking home from school, which is the same reason I didn’t re-record it the right way around and with a less cumshot-looking still. I’m a responsible adult!

And here are the lyrics!

I felt you hard against my leg
And now we’re goin’ all the way
It’s just dick; I can’t resist
It’s like my boyfriend don’t exist

Kiss me, touch me, worship me!
I can’t believe this got so dirty
Sweat and chest and thighs,
Ass and boobs, contented sighs
Put it anywhere
Yell and curse and pull my hair

And just before
I get there
I’m awake
And I swear
Meetin’ your eye at work is gonna be hard.

 

Dear Facebook, December 15, 2010

You must get really tired of getting other people’s mail all the time. I mean, you’d think the previous occupants of your web address would have been conscientious enough to leave a forwarding address when they left. I guess if I was getting hate mail all the time, I would sneak out of town too. Do you even take the time to write “Does not live here anymore” on the letters and drop them off at the e-post office anymore? I can see how that would be exhausting. How’s your mum been? Well, ttfn!

Love,
Stephanie
xoxoxoxoxo

 

Bad Ass Infants, Anyone? July 29, 2010

Filed under: My Writing,Original Songs — Stephanie Fantastic @ 8:37 am
Tags: , , , ,

I wanted to finish this song before I posted it, but it looks like I never will and I really like it.

Hey little punk, little punk rock baby
Got a piercing
On your labi-aaa
Kickin’ ass and chewin’ bubble gum
Had your first abortion at 18 months
You’re too hardcore for me, little baby
You’re too mature for me, little lady
Punk rock baby, you’re too much for me!

Got a tramp stamp of a skull bunny
Underneath your ACDC onesie
You make your momma cry
When you burp out lies
About where you’ve been

I saw you down by the river, Punkette
Swiggin’ Jack and smokin’ cigarettes
In your skinny jeans
People say you’re unclean
You’re such a naughty girl!

 

A Do Wop Song About Do Wop July 22, 2010

Okay, I wrote a song recently but I feel like this particular song needs a preface. I fucking love 50s and 60s music. Around 2000, when I started hating most of the music on KROQ, I turned to 101.1 for The Greatest Hits on Earth. After a couple years, I knew every song they played, who sang them, and all the words and I loved every minute of it.

Then I started actually listening to what I was singing along to. I was unpleasantly surprised to realize that a lot of this great music was about men cheating on women and then begging them to come back, women working really hard to get a man, and teenagers. It wasn’t entirely unlike the music of today, but it bothered me that these men would come right out and say that they loved making their women feel bad and it made them feel good to beat them, and then IN THE SAME SONG ask the women to come back to them. The female singers were just as bad though. Every amazing song Patsy Cline ever sang was about her wandering, ass hole husband. So on that note, here’s my song (and feel free to mentally add in all the Sh-booms and Do-wops):

[Spoken]

Honey, you were the love of my life.

Havin’ a boy like you made me feel like I’d done everything right.

And when you left me, all I could do was cry,

And now I’m left to wonder…why?

[sung]

Fuck you, Frankie Valli

You slept with anything that moved

Don’t tell me to hang on

Don’t sing it in a song

Put our problems on the lips

Of every teenage girl who wisheeeees

We were through

I’ll hear no more, The Beatles

You’ve got 8 new girls a week

The words you gush sound true

But you say, “I love you”

To every giiiiiirl that you meet

Don’t fall in love with morons

Be more selective, ladies, please

If he tells you to run when you break up,

Says you’re too proud when you won’t put up with his smut,

And sings it on the air for all his sluts tooooo hear

You’re probably dating an ass hole

So stop pining away

For that one one fine day

When he’ll want yoooou for his own.

I’m tired of golden oldies

Tellin’ girls they live to get a man

Fuck you, Frankie Valli

And fuck do-wop too.

It could use a little work here and there, but I like it and I’m working on trying to upload what it’s supposed to sound like, but WordPress doesn’t like my phone’s voice recorder OR video format. Picky, picky.

Edit: I just put it up on YouTube.

 

Profound Ideas June 8, 2010

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I was out and about in Hemet at an old person social for my Nana’s birthday and one of the younger old guys mentioned that the way I talk, I should write a book. Now don’t get me wrong; writing a book has been my dream since I was in middle school (and there are a whole lot of hilarious failed attempts sitting in a giant three-ring binder on my bookshelf to back that up), but I’ve never been able to string words together in a way that comes to a point. I mean, I can tell a story, but, as you’ve seen a lot in this blog, there’s never an all-encompassing point to any given story that makes the reader feel like they’ve learned something new. I feel like I don’t know enough about the world to make any generalizations about it. Or maybe I just don’t absorb things like the writers I enjoy. Either way, I always feel that my writing is lacking something essential.

Also, on the vein of thought of “You should write a book”, I always feel like I’m kind of boring on my own, but I’ve had several people tell me I should have a reality show. That always made me laugh because the audience that would watch me chuckling to myself in my underwear while making people sexually uncomfortable is not the kind of audience that I’d be catering to comedically. Oh well though, you take what you can get. Right, Boobs? Damn straight!

Now that I’m out of my mom’s murderer’s hovel, though, I feel like I could probably write a set of memoirs to rival Augusten Burroughs’s fucked up life. Maybe then I could make some money off my rantings and my “tragic” past. I got off pretty light, but when I tell the stories, people still look at me like I’m crazy for saying that.

So, in my time-honored tradition, I will think about writing a book while not wrapping up this post into any kind of life changing ideas or really any kind of point.

 

Of Lube April 29, 2010

Filed under: My Writing — Stephanie Fantastic @ 1:53 am
Tags: ,

My mind is so retarded. I just backwards thought this up.

Man #1: -espying an intricately carved silver tureen full of clear,viscous liquid- Is that…is that a gravy boat full of lube?

Man #2: Yup, and we’re gonna be filming for 7 more hours.

Man #1: Whoa. We’re gonna need a bigger boat.

I didn’t say it was gonna be a good idea.