Beyonce Sells

Today as I was watching television out of nowhere I was bombarded by no less than four ads featuring one Miss Beyonce Knowles. Now, I know she's a hot commodity. I get it. But does she really need to be slinging a fragrance by Armani, new DirectTv, the American Express card, thousands of Cover Girl products, and the brand new (cleverly titled) B'Phone? Is it really necessary? I mean sure, she's irreplaceable, or bootylicious, or maybe America is just still crazy in love with her...look I get it, but really?

Well as long as she's throwing around her body for every product in modern knowledge I've come up with a few more for her to endorse:
Introducing "Beyonce's Eve!":




For girls (and some boys) who want their privates to be BEYONCE FRESH, comes the revolutionary new product from the people who brought you the Nicole Ritchie and Joel Madden line of Trojan condoms (Specifically formulated to break during intercourse so that you too can accidentally on purpose get pregnant to skip jail time!)

Comes in these three rejuvenating scents:

Destiny's Douche
With the standout fragrance of magnolia and hair extensions, and two other scents that no one really ever pays any attention to. Everyone knows that they're there but no one really cares.

BenGay and Aspirin
This is a personal favorite of Beyonce's real life senior citizen lover Jay Z.

Beyonce Rain
Because Beyonce is too busy promoting every other product under the sun to be able to have time to come up with anything else that is original

Also, introducing the newest menu item from Kentucky Fried Chicken
"BEYONCE FRIED CHICKEN" or as the kids call it: "BFC"

As you may or may not know Beyonce has one of the best personal trainers in the business. Someone who is there to slap her on the wrist whenever she reaches for that ninth brownie. And that's why KFC is happy to announce BEYONCE FRIED CHICKEN, our first life of edible fried birds to be completely trans-fat, calorie, and carb free! With the tried and true recipe of eleven secret herbs and spices we now would like to introduce a new comer to the spice and herb market to our recipe. This new spice which is made out of detritus from Beyonce's never ending supply of wigs introduces a spicy undertone to our fried chicken that we think you'll fall crazy in love with.

P.S.
We at Kentucky Fried Chicken would like to clarify a rumor that Beyonce Fried Chicken is actually battered and fried pieces of ex Destiny's Child members, and Rhianna. We would just like to go on the record to say this rumor is completely unfounded...we think.

There were more, but to be honest I'm too lazy to actually post them. Sorry, bitches.

I am not that Jordan Gribble

I'd just like to say for all of those people out there searching on Google for a high school football player named Jordan Gribble, this is definitely not his site. We do not play, watch, or talk about football or any such sports that have to do with balls on this site. We do not believe in ball sports, in the Church of Postarita; sorry. That being said, you have found a Jordan Gribble, just not the one that you were looking for. Although I can definitely say that I am more than likely one hundred percent more literate, funny, and charming than any other Jordan Gribble that you could possibly be searching for. So you might as well just stop with all this football business, and come over to the Postarita side of life, bitches.

Hot Shit of the Month December 2007

I just realized that I haven't done one of these in months, so I'm getting on that shit right now. I can't think of any must haves as of right now, and I know that this is the season of getting, and giving. If I think of any material goods to surprise your loved one, or your Jordan I will let you know. However I do have a list of Christmas songs, that you all must have on your Ipod play lists this Christmas season. These songs are guaranteed to make you want to frolic in a nearby snow field, or decorate everything in your home with shiny tinsel.

"Hard Candy Christmas" by Dolly Parton
(interesting fact this is the only Christmas song that I know of that is actually about a group of prostitutes being separated from their whore house. Still, a worthwhile listen.

"All I Want for Christmas is You" by Mariah Carey
I usually don't like Christmas songs that are really just love songs disguised with some mention of snow, Christmas trees, bows, or a combination of all above. But this song is a classic.

"Another Auld Lang Syne" by Dan Fogelberg
This song makes me want to weep. Although not even technically a Christmas song, it is always played on the radio around this time. Instead of being about presents, or sex under the mistletoe this song is about an accomplished singer running into his ex on Christmas Eve and then getting drunk with her in her car. An all around good thing.

"My Only Wish This Year" by Britney Spears
The reason that this song is on the list, should be a no brainer really.

On why I am always late

Usually I do an annual "Things I am Thankful of" list. This year is pretty much no different. I'm a one trick kind of guy.

grateful
Being completely surrounded by love
"I love New York"
Friends I've had since childhood
Friends that only recently entered but made an impact
Knowing that it's alright to miss some people even though you haven't seen them in years
Britney Spears and her never ending hot mess of a life. She makes me feel domestic, and tame.
Postarita it fkeeps me focussed
People who laugh at my jokes when they're funny.
People who laugh at my jokes when they're not funny.
Memories of "cum" parties. (This isn't as nearly orgy like and disgusting as it may sound)
that I didn't actually see most of my family for thanksgivng

This is why it's worth it

Him: "If I had an album, and I released a song I know what it would be called"
Me: "What's that?"
Him: "Gimme Less (The Jordan Gribble Song)"

A sliver

An Excerpt:


Sorry, edited because my story is changing directions.


Remember it's not supposed to be groundbreaking or anything. It's just trying to get out as many words as possible in a limited amount of time with no editing. So keep an open mind bitches.

Okay listen, the jig is up. I know who you are. Stop that shit. Right now. GODDAMNIT STOP IT.

NanoWriMo

You may not know this by reading my blog, but I'm an aspiring writer. Maybe not the best one, or the most original one, or maybe one who doesn't even know the proper usage of commas. But really who's counting? Anyways there is a contest, well not really a contest but an organization called "NanoWriMo" that I am now a part of to see how many people can write a 50,000 word novel in a months time. And I will succeed. I will, and I must. The charachters will be underdeveloped, and the metaphors will be clunky; but it matters not. It will be fifty thousand words written...well typed by my own hand. And when I finish this feat, I will post all fifty thousand words on this site. Aren't you excited, aren't you thrilled? Aren't you ready for me to shut the fuck up? Well yes, I thought so.


I'll keep you bitches posted though either way.

Blackout

It's November thirtieth...did you already Blackout?

BUY THE NEW BRITNEY ALBUM TODAY, RIGHT NOW, DON'T WAIT BUY TWO COPIES ONE FOR YOU AND ONE FOR YOUR MOM, AND MAYBE ONE OR FOUR MORE FOR ANYONE YOU KNOW!!!!!!!


Wow, that was awesome.

on why I love Natalie

Yesterday my friend Natalie stumbled upon Postarita (because I was admiring it, and her being a nosy bitch got all up in that shit), and she noticed that there are hardly enough mentions of her wonderful self. So, I've decided to rectify the situation by telling you all why I love her so much, and why you should go out into town and find yourself a Natalie. I'm telling you that bitch is a hot commodity, and everyone needs one or, twelve of her.

I love Natalie because:
She's a combination of all the best parts of people I'm no longer friends with without all of the qualities that pissed me off with the other people.
She is an intergal part of the syrup, and as we all know syrup = life.
She doesn't fault me for my everlasting love for Britney Spears, even though she doesn't quite understand it herself.
She understands that even though I play stupid most of the time, it's all a game.
She understands me when I say the stupidest, inane shit.
Because I know that one day she will finish reading the Harry Potter series, even if it takes her years just so I can have someone to talk about it with.
She will let me talk her into playing drunken karaoke with me.
She will also watch the Disney channel for hours with me, and understands my great love for all things "Phil of the Future"
Because the bitch is my soul mate, the yin to my yang, the SYRUP on my pancakes, the Justin to my Britney, the drugs to my Courtney Love.
Because she'll read this list and won't think it's stupid at all.

of tupperware and being pissed off

Several things are happening in my life all at once right now. And none of it is fun, or exhillerating, it's just pissing me off. I don't want to get into details in case members of the Gribble clan get it into their minds to look me up on the internet and find that shit. But let's just say that someone is moving into our house, and that someone is bringing with them approximately thirteen tons of slightly warped from the microwave tupperware from the nineteen seventies. We now have a box that is meant specifically to keep celery cold. Some might say that first of all "Who the fuck eats celery?", and second of all "Can't a refrigerator do that on it's own?" All that I can say to those people is, "I have no fucking clue, unless that shit is in Chicken Noodle Soup, I'm not touching it", and as for the second "One would assume, but apparently not so much." And moreover besides the multitude of tupperware products there is also an overabundance of ceramic angels, cats dressed up as angels, babies with angel wings, and just a whole other realm of winged collectibles.
I guess the real reason I'm posting is not to explain my current tuppeware situation, but to tell you how much of a bad person I am. I should be happy, and I should be glad, and I should be a lot of things. But instead of that I'm selfish, and pissed off, and completely one hundred percent NOT FUCKING AMUSSED. All I know is that I'm an awful selfish person. I don'tknow how I became this way, or how to stop, but I can't. All I know is every time I see someone move more stuff in here, I freak out. I think of how my life is going to change, and how everything will be different, and how I'm not into change and it's just motherfucking ruining my life. And you can call melodramatic if you'd like, I am very much so. But that does not change the fact that as far as I'm concerned things will never be the same and I'm just not alright with it.

Somebody stop me before I post something sentimental again.

A list of things that are exciting the fuck out of me:

Pay Day

The Halloween party I'm throwing at Natlie's house in a few weeks. Oh, and also the amazing Elvis costume I'm designing/making for said party. What you didn't know I was throwing a party? That's probably because you're not invited. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.

No, seriously....payday.

November 20th because the DVD of the century is being released

November 13th because the COMEBACK OF THE CENTURY is being released

November 21st because the light of my life (no way, did I just write that about my sister, but no seriously) is turning nineteen

Christmas because I want a new fucking ipod realllllll baaaad

Oh by the way, I was just kidding about that Halloween Party thing where it said you weren't invited if you didn't already know about it. That's total bullshit, everyone is invited, have we ever met? Have I ever accidently run into you with my car? Have I ever shouted obsenities in front of you? (this includes most of the free world, and all of southern Louisianna). I want you all there, because I love ALL OF YOU. No, really that's total bullshit. I just want to rub it in your faces that I'm going to be FUCKING ELVIS.


Good lord, I can't even remember what the fuck I was writing about.


Peace out bitches

Dr. Shoalls

You know that old saying about "walking a mile in someone else's shoes"? Yeah, I always hated that one. I never imagined myself figuratevely "walking" in someone else's shoes to see how their life played out. Until today, when I started a new job and at breakneck speeds around my house looked for my black shoes. I searched, and combed, and tore the entire fucking place apart. I was livid, I was crazy, I didn't know what to do. I never found them, so I go to my father's closet and take his black shoes. This might not have been that bad of an idea if he didn't wear shoes two sizes smaller than my own. So let me tell you that I have finally walked in someone else's shoes....and it fucking hurt. I've got the bloody stumps to prove it.

Numbered lists are the enemy

I hate to go all lazy, and pull a list on you, but here at Postarita you get what you pay for. I'm always a good value.

Four people who as of yet have not failed to make me smile this week:

1. Yesterday my father decided we need to do some work on my car and that he desperately needed my expertise (read: none), to help him. Help involved two hours of me standing there listening to him cuss at the "Goddamn motherfucking lug nut", which just so you know whatever a lug nut is...I have no clue. Also, this great important task involved me holding things. Apparently the ground, or the hood of the car couldn't be used for the same thing. No, I needed to stand there and do what I do best, which apparently is to hold things. But then I ended up putting them all down on the "FORBIDDEN DINING ROOM TABLE" and then he was all "Goddamn motherfucking Jordan." I really needed to hear this, trust me so do you.
2. My mother has just decided that clearly she is the world's best singer. And even more so she is the world's best Justin Timberlake impersonator and clearly needs to do this about twice a minute. Although you should really hear her when she's sings "I'm bringing sexy back.....YEAAAAAAAHHH!" in her best middle aged white woman, posing as a young white guy, who wants to be a black guy impersonation.
3. The other day I took my Grandmother grocery shopping. This is all well in good, I enjoy her she amuses me to no end. Or at least she did, up until the point where she's screaming obscenities in the middle of Market Basket because the "BROCCOLI IS TOO DAMN EXPENSIVE!". But what really made our shopping trip special, is when she decided that she didn't want to spend a whole $1.49 on a prepackaged bag of grapes. Oh no, that's much too many grapes. No, she just wants a part of them. So she opens one of the prepackaged bags, tears off what she wants and puts it into a plastic bag. And as I say "Grandma, I don't think you can do that." She looks at me with a loathing that should never cross a grandmothers eyes, and says "I'm eighty seven years old...who do you think is going to tell me no?" I swear to God, it was one of the scariest moments of my life. If you had just seen her sweet elderly face, turn all malicious over some grapes you would have nearly shit yourself too.
4. Today Natalie and I were talking about how we hated ambulance sirens and how I thought that they should do away with them and instead just have a nice loud, clear voice, calmly say "PLEASE MOVE THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY, PEOPLE ARE DYING YOU ASSHOLE!" And then Natalie confessed to me that every time she hears sirens she's afraid it's the po po, and she starts throwing shit out of her car and screaming "PROVE IT WAS MINE, BITCH! PROVE IT!"

I like the word absurdly

For some reason in the past few weeks my site has become absurdly popular in Washington state. I mean ABSURDLY. You know it's important when I bust out the all CAPS. Apparently people in India dig Postarita too.

All I'm saying that is if you insist on reading, then I insist that you comment once in a while. That way I don't end up writing something that offends you. Let's be honest though, it's probably going to happen eventually. I'm just an offensive kind of person.


Also: This just in, there is currently a tropical storm heading for a Lake Charles near you as we speak. Winds of upwards of 75 miles per an hour are currently knocking on your door, knocking down your walls, more than likely molesting your children. I'm just saying, that "Hueberto" sounds like a sexual predator.

God Damn It

I know I just made a header, but I pretty much hated that one. So here is another one already, like a week later. If you hate it, fine. If you love it, let's meet out back tonight.


And in case any of you were wondering "Postarita" is an eleven point score.

DEAL

So I made a new header, it's not exactly how I wanted it to turn out but what the fuck ever. I'll try again in a few days, and until then you'll just fucking deal with it.

Full of Grace

I'll admit it, I had my doubts. Yes even the most devoted believers, sometimes have their doubts; all this proves is that sometimes you just have to have faith in a higher being. Sometimes you just have to know that there's something bigger, and greater than you or anyone you know, or anyone you know, happens to know; could ever possibly hope to be. Now, I am again completely devoted again after having heard the brand new Britney Spears single entitled "Gimme More". After having downloaded it, and listened to it repeatedly you will also have joined the Church of Britney. If you weren't already a follower, or had somehow strayed in your beliefs; have no fear. Britney is a merciless being and will grant you forgiveness as long as you promise to say your "Hail Britney's" as penance.

My Rose of San Antonio

San Antonio, Texas; sometimes it feels like I spent a better half of my life there. In reality it was more like a couple weeks a year. Every summer, and Easter, and some Thanksgivings, and holidays, and weddings were spent in San Antonio. I feel like some of my greatest childhood memories stem from that place, on Tropical Drive.

It's old stone front, and the once majestic looking cement lions guarding the front door. The pink room with it's plush couches, and fur throw blankets. I remember being in that room, on that couch with that fur throw blanket thrown over myself at the age of seven or eight. And I remember as I closed my eyes, to take a nap, I was smiling. And as I was listening to the adults talk around me, I remember trying to pretend like I was asleep, all the while still smiling. And I remember hearing her say "Look at him, what could be better than a child who smiles when he's sleeping?" And I just remember thinking that no matter what happened in my life; I would always have San Antonio. I would always have a safe haven to return to. I would always have a chance to be happy. I would always have her in my life. But, I was seven or eight then, not yet smart enough to know better.

My safe haven ended two years ago, and I haven't been back since. I've had chances, and opportunities, but I've turned them down. I wasn't ready to go back, in fact I'm still not ready to go back. I want to remember what was, and not what is. I don't want to be disappointed that she's not there. I mean I know she's not there, but I just don't want to be disappointed about it again. I don't want to feel safe again, and I don't want to feel like I'll always have San Antonio. Because the truth is, I might not be, and I probably won't. And that might be cynical, but it's the truth. I'm not a child anymore and I don't want to confuse myself with delusions that won't come true. So I've never gone back, because I said I never would.

If you know me at all, you'll realize that I'm usually wrong about these things. I'll be leaving for San Antonio on Friday. And I will probably be disappointed that she's not there, and I'll probably feel like there is no safe haven for me. But I could be wrong about the last part....I might always have San Antonio after all.