Accidentally on purpose

After weeks of anticipation, the results are in and it turns out that Anna Nicole Smith died of an accidental overdose. The coroner released her autopsy report yesterday and it showed eight different drugs in her system, which ultimately killed her. Call me crazy, but unless you’re HIV positive, I don’t understand why someone would be on so much medication! Yeah, we all know that she was depressed, unstable and a whore, but does it really take that many pills to lift your spirits?

Most importantly, if someone dies from a lethal combination of eight drugs, how exactly is that an accident? If she mistakenly took the wrong dosage of one drug and it killed her, that’s one thing. If her Valium had a bad reaction with her Ritalin, that’s yet another. But when you ingest EIGHT different drugs and seriously think you’re going to wake up the next day, that’s not called an accident; that’s called stupidity. If Anna was anything, it was stupid, so let’s just call it what it is.

But to give her the benefit of the doubt, maybe she wasn’t that stupid and actually intended to kill herself. After all, she was “married” to a man that looks like a downsy cabbage patch kid; that, in and of itself is enough to make anyone want to go to the upper room. To be fair, I think we all should consider that maybe she actually committed suicide because nobody, not even Anna, could be stupid enough to think taking all those drugs would have the same effect as Flintstone vitamins. Or could she?

300 reasons to shut the f&$% up!

In typical Hollywood fashion, a new movie has been released and people are pissed off. This time around, Iranians are upset about the new blockbuster "300", which they say depicts Iranians in a negative light and "provokes animosity against Iran." I get really annoyed with people who get all up-in-arms over how their race/culture/sex/etc. gets depicted in a movie. Were black people up in arms about Pooty Tang? Did the Asians send out angry press releases about Harold and Kumar? Absolutely not. A movie afterall is entertainment and most people know that entertainment isn't always reality, especially when you're talking about Hollywood. But it seems that every so often a movie gets released and a new breed of people become shocked and appalled. People from Kazakhstan were pissed about Borat, Jewish people were pissed about The Passion of the Christ and were even more pissed when they realized that Mel Gibson is in fact, a raging anti-semite. Now Iranians are pissed because they are portrayed as "decadent and sexually flamboyant."

Iranians who are actually upset about this movie need to realize they have bigger fish to fry. People don't think Iranians are decadent and sexually flamboyant; they think they are terrorists who like to blow up Americans! It's pretty safe to say they didn't come to that conclusion after watching a movie either. Sadly, the average American doesn't know the difference between an Iranian, an Iraqi, an Indian or a black man. So rather than whine and cry, how about you educate instead.

Coco almost gets a beat down!

Yesterday I got off work earlier than usual so I decided to do a little shopping. Way too many purchases later, I was schlepping through the train station with a handful of shopping bags and came dangerously close to tipping over a few times. I was walking down the stairs and a woman was walking up on the same side that I was walking down. Out of common courtesy, it would have made more sense for the woman to switch sides because I was the one with a million bags and all she had was an umbrella. Apparently she had no idea what common courtesy was because she stayed on my side and of course, I didn’t move either. We bumped into each other, I realized she smelled funny, so I then moved over to the other side of the stairs and continued to walk down. Neither of us said anything, I kept walking down and she kept walking up, so as far as I was concerned it wasn’t a big deal.

About 15 seconds later I hear a woman with a very strong Jamaican accent yelling. I immediately knew it was the woman from the stairs, but I kept walking because I didn’t want to have an altercation with her. I was wearing a pencil skirt and 3-inch heels, hardly fighting gear or running shoes.

“WAT TE PROBLEM EES?! WAT TE PROBLEM?!”

I kept walking, hoping that she would disappear, but after yelling “wat te problem ees” about 6 times, she was finally about 4 inches from my face. Standing in front of me was a woman with a broken front tooth, a tangerine colored phonytail and scars all over her face.

“Ya tink I’ma punk? Ya tink I’ma punk? Whyncha sah ‘xcuse me huh? Ya tink I’ma punk!”

If you’re having trouble reading this and you’re wondering what I’m trying to say, I felt the exact same way as I stood there listening to that ghetto bitch rant and rave. I couldn’t understand half the crap coming out of her mouth and she had the audacity to hold her umbrella up like she was going to hit me with it! I never said anything, I just stood there looking at her with a blank expression as she kept asking/yelling, “ya tink I’ma punk! Whyncha sah ‘xcuse me huh?! ”

If she was a typical woman, I probably would have said something ridiculous like, “I’m too pretty to fight”, with a smug smile from ear to ear; but this chick most certainly was not typical. She was the type that would stalk me and slice my face with a box cutter just for looking at her the wrong way. If you’ve ever read The Coldest Winter Ever, you know exactly what I’m talking about. She wasn’t the type of woman I could smack and walk away from casually and confidently, she was the type of woman that would stomp my face into the ground and then spit on me for good measure. After a couple more rounds of “do ya tink I’ma punk,” I ended my silence and started laughing hysterically. The GC (ghetto chick) was pissed that I bumped into her and I couldn’t believe she was being so hostile about it. It was hilarious, like something out of a low budget movie. I continued to laugh and turned to walk away.

As I was walking, I thought two things would happen. 1) The GC would hit me with her umbrella and try to cut me with a piece of broken glass she kept in her pocket for good luck. 2) After hitting me with her umbrella and trying to cut me with the broken glass, I myself would start fighting like a GC and we would both end up in jail. She kept yelling as I walked away and I was waiting for her to strike. Turns out that GC was a punk after all. She did nothing but continue to yell things that I couldn’t understand. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m a little outspoken and a wee bit brazen. However, I know how to pick my battles! I had absolutely no interest in getting my ass kicked in the middle of a train station by an immigrant with an orange weave. I would’ve never been able to show my face in this town again.