A few weeks back, I found the most hilarious and interesting woman on MySpace ever.  Well, “find” isn’t the best term–she befriended me, I was intruiged by her lack of cascading dollar bills and Scarface wallpaper, and she had a picture of Pete Wentz going downtown (word to SWV).  Turns out, she grew up across the street from my grandmom, and her brother was one of the “old heads” (read: 3 years older than me and my friends) who would let us play baseball on cement with All City Public League All-Stars.  We truly couldn’t grasp how fortunate we were then, especially when we slid into a graffitti box that was second base, covered in broken Frank’s Beverage bottles.  

The point is…South Philly is overflowing with skinned knees )that probably could use tetnus shots).  And ill bloggers.  You, the loyalist of Clap Cowards, win again.

This is the first installment of Lady Killer, a column from Nicole, wrtier of the greatest MySpace haikus in history and owner of the world’s only working Sega Saturn. 

 

Haiku and the Gang

 

Well-behaved jump off,

Who hates phones, MySpace, talking—

Where can I find one?

 

On Robitussin:

Legal poison, red as death.

Decent high for cheap.

 

My Sidekick is the

Only person to whom I

Show my tits and ass.

 

Hot wings and pizza:

I dream of you in my sleep

And cum ranch dressing.

 

Digital Gravel:

Helping white boys fake the funk—

A cause that is lost.

 

Remember the song

“No Pigeons” by Sporty Thievz?

That shit was decent.

 

Thin, white, v-neck tees.

Where to procure such items?

Really, let me know.