Like Oprah, I have favorite things. Lots of favorite things. More favorite things than anyone should ever be allowed to have. And because they are my favorite things, I feel that they should also be your favorite things.
And today I share with you my newest thing-that-brings-me-joy:
I feel that this is a moment to pay respect* to the eternal words of Aretha Franklin:
R. E. S. P. E. C. T. Find out what it means to me.
*HA! See what I did there?
And what it means to me, my good gentlemen and gentlewomen, is “Tumblr has found a new way to suck up all my free time and replace it with giggles.”
Now, I confess: I’m not a fan of rap. I never have been. The closest I get to rap music is singing “My Baby is a Blood”** (by Bobby Joe Ebola and the Chicken MacNuggits) with my best friend, off key and with great enthusiasm. And that’s not even really a rap song. It’s more of a ballad about relationship challenges, incorporating gang colors.***
**Which is apparently called “She Ain’t No Crip”. I’ve been living a lie for like 12 years, people.
***Honestly, I nominate it for a Grammy. And a People’s Choice Award. I’m people. And I’m choosing. Make it happen, TV.
So really, I have very little expertise when it comes to critiquing rap music. R&B is even a bit of a stretch. (Let’s face it. We’ve already discussed my musical preferences.) But somehow, the brilliant people over at Respectful Rappers have managed to take an inaccessible facet of the music industry and turned it into something that brings me joy and happiness.
And that’s why it’s worth being a favorite thing. It has taught me both respect AND rap music. I tip my imaginary hat to you, Respectful Rappers. Tip tip.
I hope it brings you all great joy and happiness too.
In other news, my grocery store (which happens to be Target, because I like to support capitalism) was completely out of bananas on Monday.
Apparently bananas are a really popular early December food. Or my whole neighborhood is super low on potassium. Or 57 cents is just an insanely good price for bananas.
Anyway, not getting any bananas is my least favorite thing of the week. So there’s that, too.
The answer is probably banana pudding. both for T-day and Xmastime
Oh man. That’s a thing here, isn’t it?
The South is using up all the bananas!
I heard there was a big wreck somewhere…like…30,000 lbs. wound up all over the road.
Probably because banana spiders attacked the truck driver. So really, it’s a GOOD thing they didn’t make it here.
lol that was a Harry Chapin reference.
However, what is it with you and arboral arachnids?
Dude. There are spiders that hide in bananas. Horribly poisonous ones. How is that not something to be completely fixated on?
Also, I totally got the reference, thanks to a dear friend of mine making me listen to that horribly depressing song years ago. There should be laws against tragic songs involving bananas. Bananas are happy.
Pingback: The Post Office in My City Is a Magical Place | Perpetual Plot Hole