Gizoogle

Evening folks. I know this seems a bit abnormal - another post just after I earlier confessed that my bloggage (see Nov 14, 2005) has been having a dismal effect on my end-of-day mood. Quite frankly, ranting about "real issues" (or fake ones, which is equally relevant) gets me in a bit of a verbal fit, which I often take out on my poor husband. I partially blame CBC Radio 2 for this. If only Anna Maria Tremonte would stop discussing issues like Dafur, Uganda's civil war, abortion banning in the U.S., Rwanda, Congo, and Deep Integration, I wouldn't have as much to be enraged over. Without all those things to rant about, I can imagine how our dinner table conversation would transpire:

Jonathan: The salad is delicious, dear.
Sima: I'm glad you like it honey.
Jonathan: Is the chicken too spicy for you, sweetie?
Sima: Not at all darling, it's wonderful.
Jonathan: Perfect. I was worried it would be too hot for you.
Sima: Nope, not at all, love.
Jonathan: You look nice this evening.
Sima: So do you.
Jonathan: Another glass of water, hon?
Sima: Yes please, dear.

Doesn't that make you want to gag yourself? In retrospect, I think we'll keep listening to the CBC, evening if it means lively, political dinner debates.

But I digress from the entire purpose of this blog. Since I am trying to refrain from getting too chatty, I'll let Julien, my brother-in-law, a very special person might I add, take it away. But first, you should visit his self-acclaimed fan siteto get the bigger picture. Then come back here. And don't bring any small children with you. Unfortunately, Jule-dogg has quite a diverse and colourful vocabulary...


This is from HIS blog (gizooled, of course), dated Feb 5, 2006.
"Yesterday I was at tha mall, n I happened ta be in tha music store (instruments, not CDs). There was this group of kids, tweens, hang'n out around tha piano cuz its a G thang. Now these kids were cool, coz tizzle were saggin' out at tha mizzay on a Saturday nizzight where the sun be shinin and I be rhymin'. Anyway, they wizzle mess'n around, play'n "Heart n Soul", messin' on tha piano, basically think'n they were tha coolest thing since sliced bread. The homey runn'n tha place pipes up, n this is how tha conversizzles went:

Guy: Hizzy could you guys kizzle it down pleaze?
Tweens: Why? We're jizzy frontin'.
Guy: You're bang'n on $30,000 worth of lumba
Tweens: You should have some respect. She's an off tha hook piano motherfucka (not pianist, mind you). She's gonna be famous some day fo shizzle.
Guy: That's great. Just keep it down.
Tweens: You bitch git her autograph while you stiznill can.
Guy: Oh I already have it.

And so on.

Needless ta say, those kids had no respect. Here's a list of adjectives tizzy describe them wizzle fo' real: inconsidizzles mean, disrespizzle loud, n sassy. Boy do I hizzle sass . Bounce wit me. I was `bout ready ta go backhand a few of them, jizzust coz tha clerk couldn't do it (hav'n a job ta keep n all that) upside yo head. I left tha store ho-slappin' angry n sorry fo` tha salespeople who have ta deal wit kids like thizzat . Snoop dogg is in this bitch."