Do What U Want

That new Lady Gaga song featuring R. Kelly is insane. Dope, fresh, hot, bumpin', jamming, ridic, you name it. I've been playing it nonstop since I heard it on Monday. At random points throughout the day yesterday, we'd blast it on our speakers and have impromptu dance sessions in our office. And we are grown-ass men, y'all. Grown-ass men having grown-ass dance sessions to Lady Gaga featuring R. Kelly. It's one of those songs that you just can't not groove to. The last song that I felt this way about was actually a Lady Gaga song too ("Telephone" featuring Beyonce).

Although with "Telephone," I couldn't really relate because I've never had to tell some creepy-ass dude to stop blowin' up my cell. "Do What U Want" is all about telling all them hating-ass haters to stop hating. Hear that haters? Halt your hating.

I haven't had to deal with many haters lately, but that might actually be a bad thing. If you don't have haters, that can mean one of two things:
1) You have nothing but lovers. Everything you do is loved by all. In which case, get it, girl.
2) You're not doing anything outrageous enough that warrants hating. In fact, you're probably doing nothin'. In which case, do somethin', girl.

I'm going with the latter in my situation. I'm a grown-ass man doing grown-ass nothin'. I need to be doing more things.

I've definitely been doing stuff at work, but it's a tricky situation. Tricky-ass situation. It's very collaborative, which is cool, but nothing you can truly own, you know what I mean? Also, it's for clients. Whereas with Alf Comics or this weird-ass blog, those are Alf originals. For the Alfs, by the Alfs. If I get haters on those, it's cool. Well, not cool. Semi-cool. 50 degrees, yeah?

Uhhhhhhhh. The hook just came in. You don't own my life, y'all. Do what you want with my body. But not in a sexy way. In an empowering way.

It feels like this song is sending mixed messages, but I'm too busy jammin' out to pay attention to the lyrics.

Lady Gaga cray, y'all.

Most of the time (re: all of the time) I don't pay attention to the lyrics. Maybe it's because I'm so focused on the beat. Or maybe it's because I just really suck at paying attention. That would explain why I'm not the greatest improvisor and why I usually have to ask Delma to repeat something two to five times. As a result of THAT, whenever I want to sing a song, I either make up lyrics as I'm singing or just mumble. As a result of THAT, I've come up with some great alternative song lyrics.

I was going to post a list of the awesome alternative song lyrics, but I can't remember any of them. So just trust me, y'all. They were some funny-ass lyrics. TRUST me.

Trust is an important component of any relationship. Including the one we're currently engaged in. You reading this. This reader-writer relationship. I trust you'll read this. You trust I'm not wasting your time. And if I am, shame on me.

UHHHHHHHHH. THIS SONG IS SO DOPE.

I'm scared I'm going to overplay it. I did that with "Get Lucky." By the third day of playing it nonstop, my sister Kimberly slammed my laptop shut and said "I REALLY LIKE THIS SONG, BUT IF YOU KEEP PLAYING IT, I'M GOING TO TAKE A HAMMER AND BREAK EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUR FINGERS." Or something along those lines.

But you know what, Kimberly?

You can't stop my voice cus you don't know my life.

Right, Gaga?

You damn right, girl.