so the thing is, people scoff at dance music simply by virtue of the fact that it's in that genre but i give everyone a shot. black men...not my type but i let one bite my neck and dirty talk to me. i prefer pen to pencil but i tried the new sharpie graphite erasable pen. i know you are picking up what i'm throwing down.
the song is fan-fucking-tastic because of the ironic juxtaposition of it being a tragic flame song but with an oddly feminist/independent backbone. this bitch is not sitting at home eating ben and jerry's and watching bridget jones for the 400th time. and for the same reason that you always blow your nose and then take a gander at your own snot, she just has to see her metaphorical snot.
it's brilliant.
and don't get me started on "be mine." "i saw you at the station. you had your arm around what's her name. she had on that scarf I gave you."
my heart breaks with the very thought of that soft, carefully chosen, masculine yet fashionable navy and cream cashmere scarf (her budget said wool but her heart said cashmere!) thoughtlessly draped over some other swedish bitch's shoulders.
i get robyn. she gets me. that is all.
and i would rock the shit out this bee costume. but you know, make the pants shorter. duh.
and i would rock the shit out this bee costume. but you know, make the pants shorter. duh.
1 comment:
i literally was blowing my nose when i read that part about taking a gander at my snot.
bee-autiful.
Post a Comment