I Think Nicki Minaj Jumped Barney And Stole His Lyrics

Rewind to your Sesame Street days. I'm going to name four songs and you're going to try and figure out which doesn't belong:

1. My Chick Bad by Ludacris ft. Nicki Minaj

2. Lil Freak by Usher ft. Nicki Minaj

3. Your Love by Nicki Minaj

4. Roger That by Young Money ft. Nicki Minaj

"One of these things is not like the others..." Some of you might be thinking, hmm I don't know, it's all the same shit. The rest of you may have noticed that only one of these songs is actually by Nicki Minaj. For 15 weeks now "Your Love" has been on the Billboard Top Rap Songs chart. F I F T E E N W E E E K S. It peaked at the number 1 spot. N U M B E R O N E. Think about how many rap songs you know. Now consider the fact that 15 songs make this chart per week. Now think specifically about the song in question here. I'll do the math for you. Of ALLLLLLLLLL the songs released and played in the last fifteen weeks, "Your Love" has been amongst the top fifteen every week. Furthermore, during some of these weeks, of ALLLLL the songs released and played, "Your Love" was THE NUMBER ONE SONG on the Rap Chart. I have a huge problem with this. I'm dead serious when I say I think Nicki Minaj may have jumped Barney and stole his lyrics in the making of this song. Let me preface my next thoughts with the fact that I actually really like the other three songs I listed and I really do like when Nicki Minaj is featured on tracks because she offers a neat contrast to the other voices and lyricists on the tracks. However, when it's all up to her it seems to result in an epic fail. Unless she's targeting children at snack time, I suppose. Let me post a sample of the lyrics below so we can analyze the lack of depth together:

"Your Love - Nicki Minaj"

Shawty Imma only tell you dis once, <-------- [she goes on to tell us "dis" several more times]

you da illest

(bah ba dah dah oh) <------- [seriously? bah ba dah dah oh?]

And for your lovin' Imma Die Hard like Bruce Willis

(bah ba dah dah oh) <------- [killin' it! more creative by the second]

You got spark, you, you got spunk

You, you got something all the girls want <------ [other than decent lyrics?]

You're like a candy store
And I'm a toddler <------- [only thing that makes sense in the entire song]

You got me wantin' more and mo mo more of

Your love, your love(yeah)

Your love, your love(yeah)

Your love, your love(yeah) <----------- [getting bored]

Your love, your love(yeah)

Your love, your love(yeah) <----------- [cursing about how lame this song is]

Your love, your love(yeah) <----------- [yelling at people singing along]

Your love, your love(yeah) <----------- [shrieking as I inquire to anyone in earshot how this made any chart at all]

Your love, your love(yeah) <----------- [considering driving my car off the Tobin Bridge]

I don't really feel like I need to say more on this subject. I think that segment probably does the trick. And I'm not ignorant to the fact that there are a lot of pretty depthless, pointless songs out there, I'm just saying this one takes the cake.

I Have A Real Problem With Febreze

It's a typical day. I return to my apartment after a long day of work and once again, from the bathroom, the foul scent of fiber successfully doing it's job comes prancing into my nostrils. Only it's not alone. It's holding hands with the newest scent in the Febreze lineup: Thai Dragon Fruit. Now rather than just smelling poop or just smelling thai dragon fruit, half of which might be pleasant, I'm smelling a rude combination of the two: shitbreze.

I went on the Febreze website this morning and at the bottom of the homepage it actually says, "Celebrate the new scent of Thai Dragon Fruit". I'm sorry, what? What could there possibly be to celebrate. First of all, I'm thinking what the hell is dragon fruit because I've never gotten that mixed in with any diner fruit cup I ordered at Sunday brunch. So I pull up Wikipedia to see that it is a real fruit and it is, in fact, cultivated in Thailand. Initially I'm kind of excited about this finding, until I realize that if I ever get the chance to try it, I will think back to this moment and the inevitable accompaniment of poop with this supposedly "delicate aroma". You're probably saying to yourselves, "okay Meg so you would rather just smell shit??" The answer is YES. The way I see it, shit is gonna smell like shit no matter what. Why do we have to take something that smells good and mix it with the smell of shit? Now neither thing smells good, when we could have just let the good smelling thing keep on smelling good, independent of the shit smell. To me, this is exactly like coming to the conclusion that poop doesn't taste good and then taking something that does taste good, like strawberries, and eating the two together. The shit is still gonna taste like shit, people!

Aside from failing to smell like anything a normal human being wants to smell, the underlying motivation of this product violates the value of simple hygiene. Take for example the commercial where the woman is running around getting ready for her inlaws to come to her house and her grubby husband is sitting in his recliner, marinating in some stench that is symbolized by superimposed lines of odor. But wait, they're in luck, Febreze has a product specifically for this situation. It's called Fabric Refresher. Red flags flying for anyone else? Wash the freakin' chair? Or if it's seriously that bad, maybe we should consider, oh, I don't know, GETTING RID OF IT! I'm appalled. Like, hey cool I'm just never going to shower I'll just spray some odor busting fragrance on myself and call it a day.

I'm sorry if these opinions are offensive to you Febreze fanatics out there. Don't get me wrong, I'm an avid perfume wearer. But I typically don't smell like shit before applying my scent. My parents always taught me to address the root of the issue. Masking the problem isn't a solution. That's all I'm saying.

Parking In The City Is A Lot Like Dating: A 3 Person Job

Anyone who lives in a big city knows the triumphs and perils in the challenge of finding the perfect parking spot. Or just any-freakin-thing that resembles a parking spot for that matter. After a couple years now in Boston I have come to a profound conclusion: parking in the city is actually a lot like dating. Hands down, at the very least, a three person job.

There are a minimum of three crucial roles that must be fulfilled in any parking [or dating] situation. Initially, as you drive down a narrow street [travel the path of life] there's the Parker [the bachelor(ette)] and the two Eyes [wing(wo)men]. The Parker frantically glances from side to side trying not to clip the cars on the street that is apparently designed for mopeds while the Eyes yell things at you like "there's oneahhhhhhhitsafirehydrant" and "that person's leavingggohhhhhhthatguysnaggedit". This clearly parallels the dating scene as the bachelor(ette) carefully inches their way into a packed club that is apparently designed for a quarter of the actual amount of people admitted. The bachelor(ette) glances frantically around the club trying not to spill anyone's drinks while the wing(wo)men yell things at you like "dayummmm look at herrrrneverminddddweirdteeththinggoingon" and "ohmygod he's sooo cuteeeyikesherecomeshisgirlfriend". You get the idea.

Once all three parties in the vehicle [situation] agree on a potential spot [love interest], each person from here on assumes their three more specific roles. The Parker becomes the Executor [bachelor(ette)] and the Eyes assume new roles. One being the Voice of (No)Reason and one, the Blueprint. Let me explain in a little more depth:

The Executor

This is the person who is actually behind the wheel. This person ultimately makes or breaks the outcome of any potential parking spot (love interest).

The Voice of (no)Reason

This is the wingman who supports the decision to park [date] wherever the final consensus has led the Executor. This person says things like, "you can definitely fit there", "most of the car is in a legal spot", "they can still get out if they back down the driveway at an angle", "I doubt they do much ticketing after 9:00pm", "there's plenty of room between your car and the fire hydrant" and "we're not even realistically going to be here that long". This is the same person who, in dating situations says things like, "who cares if you're polar opposites, it's probably a good thing", "it's not like you have to marry them, you can just have some fun" and "you can at least get new mesh shorts out of the situation".

The Blueprint

This person jumps out of the car while the Executor hovers next to the spot. They examine the signs posted on the street and try to decipher the cryptic messages and unclear arrows. After careful examination they either confirm or deny the potential success of this parking spot [love interest] in the form of an educated informed analysis. Once the decision has been made to go forth with the attempt at parking in this particular spot [dating this particular love interest] the Blueprint will help the Executor execute. You'll find the Blueprint dashing in front of and behind the car, within eyeshot of the Executor's rearview mirrors and yelling things like, "you've got plenty of room here", "careful, careful", "a little more", "yup! stop! you're good!" or "nah, you're never gonna fit". Slide over to the dating scene and the Blueprint is strategically telling the the bachelor(ette) how proceed. The Blueprint is going to say things like, "she's a stage five clinger, get out while you still can", "you're obviously into it because he smacks his food while he chews and you don't even care" and "keep your walls up and start off with away games only".

So there you have it. A dose of parallel parking...and parallel dating. In both situations, there are WAY more failed attempts than success stories. Keep in mind, even if you get into a good spot, you're likely to get scratches and dings on your bumpers.