Homies and honies, Word.
(I refuse to refer to my female readers as "ho's", since, unlike some of you "popularity weasels" and your oh-so-trendy-blogs-where-you-get-a-much-better-turnout-than-I-do-with-my-half-dozen-or-so-hapless-victims-if-I'm-lucky-enough-to-have-them-stumble-onto-me-whilst-Googling-porn-meanwhile-you-deviant-exploiters-have-the-luxury-to-be-able-to-show-open-contempt-for-your-life-devoid-flocks-of-mindless-lemmings-and-actually-get-away-with-it!-types, MY audience is limited, so I cannot afford to intentionally alienate anybody.) It is time for my inaugural "Pimp Daddy (or Momma) Contest".
Even though memes are suddenly like "crack" to me, and my hunger for them is insatiable, I have vowed to limit my meme-ing to once a week, at most. This doesn't mean that I won't be making numerous, furtive trips to random bookstores and newsstands within a 300-mile radius so that people won't get suspicious as to what I'm up to, which is scouring for and collecting back issues of Reader's Digests in order to extract and distill quizzes contained therein into devilishly potent memes; or that I won't start a "meme-lab" in my basement with special filtered venting apparati so that it is virtually undetectable by the Good Taste Gestapo.
But I will try to keep my own meme addiction under reasonable control, so that I can comfortably profit from your collective lack of will power and endless appetite for toxic trivia.
This causes me great heartache, and yet, at the same time, answers the future meme question: "What causes you great heartache?".
So since I rarely have one, but this time I do, let's go with "Plan-B" for this post. I heard, second-hand from family members that the local news this past weekend ran one of their "insipid, cutesy-pie attempts at feigning community interest" segments. And as I would rather watch Ernest Borgnine and Shelly Winters ensconced in a nude lambada to Yoko Ono's "best of" then watch the local news, I took their word for it.
This is what disturbs me. The piece was about an elementary school fair, where one of the attractions was "PIMP My Ride". I don't know much about the scope of this particular activity, or what the kids had to do, but those details are not relevant to my point* (* which is not relevant to anything ... it's a recursive relationship ...), anyway.
WHAT THE HECK are we doing, people? Why are words such as "pimp" being embraced into public lexicon, to the extent that elementary school kids are now being encouraged to "pimp" things?
I just cannot for the life of me picture some of you mommies helping your son or daughter to pimp out his or her school project!
What does this mean for the future of arts and crafts shoppes? Will they become even seedier then they are now?
Let's agree to fight back on this. Write your school boards and your government representatives, and let them know that - though THEY may be prostitutes - WE don't want to be pimps!
But, I do know my viewer demographics enough to realize that some of you may truly want to be pimps (and already dress the part), so here's how:
How to Pimp
Hopefully this disturbing trend will soon meet its demise. While we wait, we may as well spend some of our own leisure time in the red light district. I would like to ask EVERYONE who has suffered through this post to participate in the following contest, before pimp prohibition is legislated into effect. Consider this a b*tch slap back at me for the anger that my previous, disobedient posts may have caused.
To get started, click on the following link to get your official pimp name (unless you already have one). Remember, only a fool would use his/her REAL first and last names. Use your blog name (break it in two, if need be) instead, holmes.
Yo! I need a pimp name!
(MY pimp name is "Mr. White Chocolate P. Gates")
Then provide, in a comment to this post:
1) Your PIMP NAME.
2) WHAT you would like to "pimp".
3) WHY it should be "pimped".
Be creative and have fun with it!
The dopest (do they still say that?) answer will win the coveted "Puerile's Pimp Daddy (or Momma) of 2006, Yo" Award, and will have a tribute post created in his/her honour by yours truly.
Contest deadline is midnight, Mountain Standard Time, Wednesday, July 26, 2006. Local restrictions may apply (in other words, check with your significant other first, to see if it's okay if you become a pimp). Offer void in Utah (I'm kidding! Anyone - multiple wives or not - is welcome to participate. And let's face it, multiple wives - if anything - should give Utah residents a natural pimp edge).
Let's bust a move, my p-dub posse!
"Pimps is an UGLY word ... we can call ourselves ... Love Brokers." - Michael Keaton, Nightshift (1982)
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