Yesterday, during my sporadic Twitter check-in, I saw a tweet alleging that only women “believe in zodiac signs.” Feeling particularly pedantic and petty, I spent the next few minutes re-tweeting it with my favorite zodiac-themed rap lyrics from male rappers. You know–those penis owners who allegedly don’t “believe in zodiac signs” because only women do. Anyway, the tweet reminded me of a little-known Jay-Z jam from his peak “we don’t fuck with Nas” era, “Don’t You Know.” In it, he spit the following:
“I carry two Taurus
Niggas, they call me Gemini
Though my birthday is one day before December 5
It’s S. Carter the Archer
I throw darts at ya
Arrows through your apparel
I will dearly depart ya…”
Reminded me why that man has been my favorite wordsmith for the last twenty years.
I’m a Libra Sun with Scorpio Moon. My BFF is a Gemini Sun with a Sagittarius Moon. Here’s what happens when we talk through my decision-making:
Her: Why does it HAVE to be one thing or the other? There are so many things! So many options to try!
Me: *blinks in bewilderment* Because I don’t want *A* thing, I want *THE* thing
I’m enjoying political pundits tripping over themselves to avoid calling Beto O’Rourke hot. No, that’s not a reason to vote for someone but let’s not kid ourselves that a tall, square-jawed, conventionally handsome man won’t command attention. We’re human beings after all.
Watching the hip hop world fall in love with Megan Thee Stallion is fun. How can you not love the author of a line like “I’m runnin through yo’ n***a house like the Tomb Raider.” She proves that I don’t hate new rap because it’s new and I’m old–I ignore it because it’s bad and hurts my ears. If you can rap, have some charisma, and write good songs, I’m down for ride.
The actor who played Hodor on Game of Thrones is DJing at a club in Cleveland the weekend of the season 8 premiere. Were it not during the last stretch of my No Liquor Lent, I would absolutely attend and be that annoying fan trying to take photos and make him say “Hold the door.”
After jumping the gun thinking Netflix’s Triple Frontier came out last Friday [see my premature fangirling here], I am VERY excited to drool over Charlie Hunnam this weekend.
Thing that I’ve been laughing about for the last 24 hours: making my way through George RR Martin’s Fire & Blood and there’s a character in it named Break Bones Strong. I won’t spoil anything by telling you what Break Bones Strong gets into. I just want you to imagine how a woman might react to meeting a man named Break. Bones. Strong. Spoiler alert, it looks something like this:
“Can you imagine being the person who *didn’t* fuck Break Bones? What is your life? Why are your choices?”
Thank you, GRRM, for continuing to bless my life with text message fodder.
Dear Land Lords of the World: if you’ve already rented your adorable, perfectly-located, within-my-budget apartments, can you please take them off Craigslist? I don’t need that teasing in my life.
And with that, I bid you all a happy Friday and an extremely cautious Ides of March.