In the preceeding 12 months I've learned a few things about myself. Like how I am good at what I do. Like how I don't have to take no shit from nobody. Like how even when things get thrown at me one after another, I can handle it. Cause when the going gets tough, the tough do not boo-hoo into their hankies. The tough get their asses in gear and get the hell out of Dodge while the getting's good. I am strong, I am smart, I am funny and I am a survivor. Thank you, Xtina for pointing that out. Oh, and if I wanna be dirrrty, Xtina said it's okay, so there. She's my new hero, miss Aguilera is.
Why, Tanis? You say. Surely, you've lost all common sense! Surely you're only joking. Surely, you don't want to be like that vapid whore! Surely not. Oh, I so do.
I want to be just like her! I want her ratty hair extensions, I want her sense of I'll wear whatever the hell I want. I want her body, which certain folks are saying is starting to look a little "thick" to which I say: Fuck you, fuckballs!
You can't even tell me you don't think she's a little sexy. I mean, if you ask me, she's a lot sexy. She is sex. She's sex squared! She's sex to the pi. I want her glitter eyeshadow, I want her "No. Really, come fuck me" glare. I want her wicked shoes. I want her killer voice. I want her sense of fun. Fuck, by the end of the year, I wanna be on tour with Justin Timberlake, doing sexy photo shoots with him for the cover of Rolling Stone and giving him the "You. Me. Later. Bring the whipped cream" look while Britney cries into the beefy arms of her downhome ex-husband and pretends to be better than all that. Oh, but you know if she got drunk she'd be waiting outside the club all "I'm gonna git you, sucka!" but Xtina would just drill her in the eye and Brit would be wearing shades for the next two weeks.
So yeah. I think it's time to hit the gym and take some vocal lessons, cause I can karaoke like a beeyotch. Oh, you just wish you'd been at O' Reilly's when I and some other ho's serenaded a room full of Canadian Forces soldiers from Britain with Patti LaBelle's Lady Marmalade. I'm not gonna say how much money I got from that gig, but I will tell you that those gay soldiers loved our coordinating hootchie outfits. Some say we took the hooker thing a little too far, but I say, if you can't wear your sequined garter belt and stockings with your black, velvet top hat to croon to the troops, when can you?
I really think the essence behind the songs belonging to yesterday's teen queen and today's sexy bitch are things most women can get behind. Heh. Get behind. Um, but anyway. What I mean is, screw the coy genie in a bottle references and cue the refrain of 'I am beautiful, no matter what they say ' cause we're survivors, we're powerful, hard-bodied, beauty-mark wearing, bleached-blonde to bottle-black beeyotches and we gonna beat these Britneys down like it ain't no thang. We don't take no shit from nobody. We be dirrrty with a couple extra r's cause you know, that's dirrty. And more importantly, we've got a sense of humour. We can kiss Madonna full on the mouth and give awards to Eminem. We can make videos with David "more water, less pants" LaChapelle. We can then appear on Saturday Night Live in a crisp, white suit and sing the hell out of our latest single.
Last year, I had no idea what I wanted, I just knew I didn't want what I had. I knew I deserved better. I knew I was boys. This time around, I'm again in the market for a new job. Now don't get your jockies in a twist, don't get your abercrombie too-tight t-shirt all wrinkled. I still have a job. I just want a different one. So what I'm trying to say is this: I know what I want, and I'm'a git it. You just try and stop me.
Tube: A.S.S. Hells yeah! Come on Lex! You and me gonna win that Survivor pool, bad boy!
Text: Take the Canolli - Sarah Vowell
Tunes: It's on the Rocks - The Donna's
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