Random Thoughts

One day in an inspirational sports movie, probably a football movie, the phrase “bro, just do it, you’re too legit to quit,” will be said without the smallest shred of irony.

It astounds me that for decades progressivists have been pushing for the idea of acceptance and depiction in media of women of all shapes and sizes to little success, but “Dad bod” can obtain near absolute acceptance and praise overnight, in a society that already accepted the idea of men all shapes and sizes.

At this point new burgers made by chain restaurants should just be called “fuck you”.

Everything wrong with America can be summed up in the magazine section of a Walmart.

Stoner movies are stoner movies because they are made by stoners, featuring stoners, for stoners.

How will anthropologists summarize the damage that Twitter has left on meaningful communication?

The best thing to come out of fourth of July on instagram are actually good fireworks and star spangled bikinis.

The sanctity of the American flag was lost when we started butchering it for swim trunks and bikinis and we saw that as patriotism.

Why is there not a Code Geass mod for the Total War franchise?

Isn’t it weird that electronic music, a genre whose tools are essentially limitless in its production, is still bound by sub-genre distinctions?

Google+ is to photographers, what Myspace is to musicians.

If a white person with black hair and black person with white hair 69 each other, it should officially be called yin-yanging.

Lap desks were created for people who really hate trackpads and desks and/or really love their bed or couch.

I found a swastika carved into the side of a bathroom stall in a bookstore, how ironic.

I’d like to say I’m surprised at how much space American history, christianity, and military history (this includes WWII) gets at a Barnes & Nobles in America, but I’m so not at this point.

The feeling of parental disappointment you put on yourself when you get shit on your hand after wiping.

“Here I sit, brokenhearted
Came to shit, only farted.” Lovely bathroom poem I found on a bathroom stall wall.

If our phones were people we would have killed them ten times over.

To probably no ones surprise I like to write scripts for comedy sketches in my free time. I came across one of my sketch idea sheets and found the title “God Made a Slip Up,” and immediately thought to myself “Oh fuck what did I think of?” then “Damn I wish I could remember it”.

Samurai Champloo is what would happen if the Wu-Tang Clan became an anime.

College promotional videos are the most masturbatory things to watch just short of pornhub.

College are just adult daycares.

Isn’t it funny how the country music community prides itself on being separate, “superior” because of where it comes from, being very distinct, “conservative”, and attached to christianity, when the country music industry is steadily borrowing more and more aspects from Hip-hop, Rap, and pop.

You’ve never felt grosser than when you’re semi-wet, some what sweaty, and you just got done taking a shit.

It’s funny how the qualification for friends for little kids is “oh hey we are similar heights.”

The people who are best at describing things, are the people who write for the dictionaries.

Music videos are usually if not always incredible stupid.

Rain is nature’s shower.

The study of medicine is essentially figuring out ways to hack your body.



There will not be a post this week (and possibly next week as well) for two reasons. First, I am in the middle of moving to college and haven’t had a lot of time to write. Second, I am in the process of building up a back catalogue, so that I can steadily release each post over the course of several weeks. And this is also a chance to reveal my writing methods. For essays, I first write them with pen and paper, then type them up. This written to typed process, on top of proofreading, revising, editing, and grammar checking can take some time

Dissecting “Fancy”

[Verse 1 — Iggy Azalea:]

First thing’s first, I’m the realest (realest)    – Wow that’s arrogant. I’m pretty cocky myself, but I don’t announce that I’m the best in the in my genre in my first popular single. – Being her first popular single Iggy feels the need establish herself as an artist equal to those already in the industry.

Drop this and let the whole world feel it (let them feel it)

And I’m still in the Murda Bizness    – Bullshit, you’re an Australian rapper who rose to fame thanks to record companies, you ain’t murderin’ shit.

I could hold you down, like I’m givin’ lessons in physics (right, right)    – What are you talking about? Are you talking about how boring physics classes are? Are you referring to gravity? In which case that makes no sense.

You should want a bad bitch like this (huh?)

Drop it low and pick it up just like this (yeah)

Cup of Ace, cup of Goose, cup of Cris    – Okay stop right there, we need to get something straight. The point of this is to show how class and rich she is by flaunting the alcohol she drinks. Except Grey Goose isn’t that expensive. Ace and Cristal are really expensive; like a fraction of you or mines income expensive. Goose is pricey for Bevmo.

High heels, somethin’ worth a half a ticket on my wrist (on my wrist)    – Hold the fuck up. According to urban dictionary, a “Ticket” is one million dollars. That means she’s spending 500,000 dollars on a wrist accessory. Bill Gates doesn’t even spend money like that, and I don’t think you’re as rich as Bill Gates (and it doesn’t matter if you were) so that’s just financially irresponsible.

Takin’ all the liquor straight, never chase that (never)    – Have fun with that hangover.

Rooftop like we bringin’ ’88 back (what?)    – Iggy, you were born in 1990, you don’t know what ‘88 was like. It could have been completely boring for all you really know.

Bring the hooks in, where the bass at?    – What are you talking about? Are you referring to music? In that case, the hook is the first line you said, and the bass began as soon as the song began. Are you talking about fishing? If so that makes absolutely no sense and doesn’t have anything to do with being fancy.

Champagne spillin’, you should taste that    – Now that’s just rude and pompous, I’m not lapping up your spilled champagne.

[Chorus — Charli XCX:]

I’m so fancy

You already know    – That and judging by your attitudes I know you two are dickheads as well.

I’m in the fast lane

From L.A. to Tokyo    – When did that highway get built? Because now I really want to go to some conventions.

I’m so fancy

Can’t you taste this gold?    – No and I don’t want to; I don’t know where that’s been.

Remember my name

‘Bout to blow

[Verse 2 — Iggy Azalea:]

I said, “Baby, I do this, I thought that you knew this.”    – Do what exactly!?

Can’t stand no haters and honest, the truth is        – Those aren’t haters Iggy, those are critics.

And my flow retarded, they speak it depart it        – Okay, hold on, you left the last verse with “The truth is” as if you were about to say something, then you followed this verse with “And my flow is retarded” which infers that it is in addition to something else, except it doesn’t work like that. I’m sorry but if that’s how you go from line to line, then your flow is just that.

Swagger on super, I can’t shop at no department    – What swag? Fine, stay at your expensive ass stores, more bargains for the rest of us.

Better get my money on time, if they not money, decline    – Okay I can’t be the only one confused by this. First she’s demanding, what seems to be actual money, on time. Then it seems as though she’s referring to “money” as a synonym for rich people.

And swear I meant that there so much that they give that line a rewind     – What?

So get my money on time, if they not money, decline    – If I didn’t get it the first time, reiterating it isn’t going to make me understand.

I just can’t worry ’bout no haters, gotta stay on my grind    – If this is the result, it’s not much of a grind is it?

Now tell me, who that, who that? That do that, do that?     – Can you tell me why you feel the need to repeat each phrase twice?

Put that paper over all, I thought you knew that, knew that

I be the I-G-G-Y, put my name in bold

I been working, I’m up in here with some change to throw    – Rich people don’t throw change, and the people don’t want your change either.

[Chorus — Charli XCX:]

I’m so fancy

You already know

I’m in the fast lane

From L.A. to Tokyo

I’m so fancy

Can’t you taste this gold?

Remember my name

‘Bout to blow

[Bridge — Charli XCX:]

Trash the hotel

Let’s get drunk on the mini bar    – Rich people don’t get drunk at the mini bar; they get drunk at the bar bar, party everywhere else and get away with it.

Make the phone call            – To who?

Feels so good getting what I want

Yeah, keep on turning it up        – Turning what up?

Chandelier swinging, we don’t give a fuck    – Clearly, as evidence shows you spend half-a-million on wrist accessories, announce to the world you’re the greatest rapper, order people around, denounce normal life, and treat people like peasants. You clearly don’t give a fuck but should maybe start being a decent, courteous, human being.

Film star, yeah I’m deluxe    – What film? Modesty much?

Classic, expensive, you don’t get to touch


[Verse 3 — Iggy Azalea:]

Still stuntin’, how you love that?    – At this point, I’m wondering if you’re stuntin’ or stunting

Got the whole world asking how I does that

Hot girl, hands off, don’t touch that

Look at it I bet you wishing you could clutch that

It’s just the way you like it, huh?

You’re so good, he’s just wishing he could bite it, huh?

Never turn down nothing, – The previous 5 lines are the obligatory references to ass.

Slaying these hoes, gold trigger on the gun like

[Chorus — Charli XCX:]

I’m so fancy

You already know

I’m in the fast lane

From L.A. to Tokyo

I’m so fancy

Can’t you taste this gold?

Remember my name

‘Bout to blow


Who that, who that, I-G-G-Y

That do that, do that, I-I-G-G-Y

Who that, who that, I-G-G-Y


Who-who-who-who that, who that, I-G-G-Y

That do that, do that, I-G-G-Y

Who that, who that, I-G-G-Y – We, unfortunately already know who you are; youu can stop now.



Holy hell this song is bullshit. I couldn’t get anything out of this.