I went to Florida last week.** On the flight home, I ordered a $7 plane drank to help me fall asleep. It did help me fall asleep (#respect), but not before getting me a little lightheaded and then inspiring me to write down the tweets I would have tweeted had I had netwerk connectivity.
I’m going to share them here. I would share them on Twitter, but there is nothing worse than when someone you follow clogs up your timeline. I used Photoshop to make them look like real tweets to keep it more fun.
Disclaimer: I feel very fortunate that my plane did not have netwerk connectivity.
**My trip to Florida was fly. My cool ass cousins and I went to the beach, went to the pool, went to the movies, saw friends, RODE ON BOATS, ate pizza/steak/shrimps/fresh fruits/other good things, drank drinks, learned the lyrics to Disney songs, and practiced rapping. (Side note: I think I could be a rapper.)
If I suddenly found myself in a universe where I was the main character in Beyoncé’s “Partition” song, but had never heard the whole thing before, these are the thoughts I would think and the feelings I would feel.
Lyric: Driver roll up the partition please Driver roll up the partition please I don’t need you seeing Yoncé on her knees
Thought:
OK, if I’m Beyoncé then I’m telling my chauffeur to roll up the partition because I don’t want him seeing me on my knees. Why would I be on my knees? I must have… dropped my earring on the limo floor? That’s got to be it. Yeah, the driver definitely needs to roll up that partition. If I’m on my knees, then my booty must be up in the air. Ain’t nobody need to see that harvest moon.
Feelings:
Lyric: Took 45 minutes to get all dressed up We ain’t even gonna make it to this club
Thought:
Wait a minute–we’re not going to go to the club just because I dropped my earring? I’m not much of a clubber but if it’s a club Jay-Z and Beyoncé go to, I’d like to check it out. Plus, if it took me 45 minutes just to get dressed up, do you know how long it must have taken to do my hair and make-up!? Upwards of two hours, fool. We going to that club.
Feelings:
Lyric: Now my mascara runnin’, red lipstick smudged
Thought:
How did that happen!? I must be crying or something. Maybe we shouldn’t make it to the club, I guess I’m sad.
Feelings:
Lyric: Oh he so horny, yeah he want to *F WORD*
Thought:
Oh my! I seem to have misjudged this situation in the worst way, and I don’t at all like where it’s headed. I know Jay-Z’s supposed to be my husband in this scenario, but even if I can accept that, we’re in a moving vehicle! And our driver’s like two feet away! I think we ought to hold off on this for… ever, probably.
Feelings:
Lyric: He popped all my buttons and he ripped my blouse He Monica Lewinski’d all on my gown
Thought:
Shout out to Jay-Z for popping my buttons and ripping my blouse and doing his freak business on my gown. Very cool of him, to wreck all my clothes en route to the club. Guess that’s why we’re crazy in love. Drunk in love. Crazy and drunk in love.
Just kidding. That’s effed, Jay-Z. Damn!
On a side note, why am I wearing a blouse and a gown at the same time? Who dressed me? Did Jay ruin all my clothes on purpose because my outfit didn’t make sense?
Feelings:
Lyric: Oh, there daddy, daddy didn’t bring the towel Oh, baby, baby be better slow it down
Thought:
Wait a minute–are we going to a club with a swimming pool!? Hot diggity I don’t care if you forgot the towel, we’re going swimming! Forget slowing it down, put the pedal to the metal! I’m tryna get my Marco Polo on!
Feelings:
Lyric: Took 45 minutes to get all dressed up And we ain’t even gonna make it to this club
Thought:
Yeah I remember you saying that earlier but if there’s a pool involved in this outing I’d really really like to make it to that club.
Feelings:
Lyric: Take all of me I just wanna be the girl you like, girl you like The kinda girl you like, girl you like Take all of me I just wanna be the girl you like, girl you like The kinda girl you like Is right here with me Right here with me Right here with me Right here with me
Thought:
None of that is true.
I don’t want anyone to take all of me, for starters. I have dogs who need me, and nephews and a niece, and plus I’d like to keep at least a quarter of myself for myself. I got lots of hobbies, nah mean? Secondly, I guess it’d be cool to be the kind of girl Jay-Z likes, but it’s not like that’s my only goal in life. I want to be a lot more than just the kind of girl he likes. Just the kind of girl Patrick Stump likes? Yes, sure. But Jay-Z? Jay-Z better make like Bruno Mars and think I’m amazing just the way I am.
Feelings:
Lyric: Driver roll up the partition fast Driver roll up the partition fast Over there I swear I saw them cameras flash
Thought:
Damn that driver. I already politely asked him TWO TIMES to roll up the partition. Either he never rolled it up, or he did roll it up and then rolled it down again. Neither is acceptable. I’m going to have to fire him. Eff! I’ve never fired someone before, but I bet I suck at it. Maybe Jay-Z will do it for me.
Feelings:
Lyric: Hand prints and footprints on my glass Hand prints and good grips all on my ass
Thought:
Not this again.
Feelings:
Lyric: Private show with the music blastin’ He like to call me Peaches when we get this nasty
Thought:
Private show for who!? Jay-Z or the chauffeur?! Who is calling me Peaches?!? IS THIS SONG ALMOST OVER YET?
Feelings:
Lyric: Red wine drip filth talk that trash Chauffeur eavesdropping trying not to crash
Thought:
Is some of this gibberish or am I currently too distressed to understand anything? Motherfunker I hope we don’t crash. Imagine if I die like this: all my clothes ripped and soiled, my lipstick and mascara smudged, booty out. Please, I hope that chauffeur don’t crash. Also I wonder if he’s rolled up that partition yet.
Feelings:
Lyric: Oh, there daddy, daddy now you ripped my fur Oh, baby, baby be sweatin’ on my hair
Thought:
TAKE IT EASY ON MY GEAR, DAMN. Barf, there’s sweat dripping on me. I wonder what Jay-Z would think if I vomited on him, cause it’s bout to happen.
Feelings:
Lyric: Took 45 minutes to get all dressed up And we ain’t even gonna make it to this club
classygallie 