My Chick(s) Bad

March 19, 2013

I dance.

In the shower.

Every day.

Maybe every other day. Showers require A LOT of energy. I think they’re entirely overrated (unlesss we’re talking about my bangs, I wash my bangs EVERY day).

In any event…

This morning, one of my favorite Ludacris songs surprised me in my playlist.

I felt particularly inspired.

Not only did I work the bathtub like I was auditioning for Nicki Minaj, I was also reminded just how bad a$$ my friends are…because they are…they’re @#$%ing unreal.

I’m saying…my chicks do stuff yo’ chicks wish they could…

Meghan puts ranch dressing back like a boss. Not a little ranch dressing. A lot. We’re not talking ramekins of ranch. We’re talking 12-packs. I think she pours bottles of ranch dressing out on her kitchen floor and makes ranch angels…right before she mops it all up with crinkle cut fries. Meghan doesn’t mess around with ranch. Or zerberts. I love blowing on her bare skin almost as much as she loves the sound of me blowing on her bare skin (in public places no less…love you Golden Bear).

Katie’s teeth glow in the dark. This chick will lure you in with her pearly whites, then she’ll eat you with them, with the most beautiful smile on her face.

Kearsten…well…she just doesn’t eff around. Ever. This chick is legit. She doesn’t let you get away with acting like a complete a$$hole (because I try, ALL the time). And if you’re her friend, and anyone ever tries to be an a$$hole to you, she’ll put a stop to it…real quick.

There’s no reason to tell you why Sandra’s bad. See for yourself.

Ashley never ceases to amaze me. She has this dance move where she bends over backwards, like, at the waist. But somehow manages not to fall over. Even though she’s about eight feet tall. And she has Rapunzel-ish hair. You’d think, that alone, would weigh her down. Nope. She has perfected this incredible dance move. Outside of her dance moves, I’m pretty sure Ashley would lay down in traffic for me. For any of her friends actually. Once upon a time, she practically laid down in traffic to save one of my hats. College was fun.

Adrienne ran, for miles, with a triple-stroller. WTF. Who does that? One bad a$$ MILF. That’s who.

I’m not sure what’s more impressive about Maren. Her generosity. Her ability to have fun ANYWHERE. Or the junk in her tan trunk. Not gonna lie, she’s totally my type.

Peggy works (manages actually), cleans, cooks, runs (fast), parents, teaches, helps, loves, listens, forgives and fixes. Just to name a few. Seriously. That’s just a few.

Cindy isn’t afraid. And even if she is, she’s dreaming big anyway. She’s dreaming bigger than big. She’s not letting anyone get in her way. Right Cindy?

Shana’s bad too. Obviously. This makeup artist makes Sacramento’s socialites/brides AND the smallest stick-on sunglasses look good. No. Great.

Amy cares in a way that is sometimes unbelievable to me. And fully supports my love of HBO and Sauvignon Blanc. Need I say more? Yes, I do. Her text messages are off the chain. But she has a great job…so I shall not put her texts on blast.

Lori would knock a bitch out. Without saying a word. Not one word. Just a glance. Needless to say, I try to keep this mouthy Puerto Rican on my team.

No one keeps up like Kolea. No one. And if you know Kolea. You know exactly what I mean. This chick is one Salty D-O-DOUBLE-G.

I’m almost positive Amber could be wife, daughter AND mother of the year, make it rain (I mean this in the nicest possible way) and throw some serious punches at the same time. Not verbal punches (although she can throw those too). Real ones. She’s also smokin’ hot. Short. But hot. Wham BAmber is badder than you.

Miss Red Pants drinks coffee. The most delicious coffee. And she can have any man she wants (she’s got Bob Daly wrapped around her little clawed paw). If she doesn’t get the attention she wants, she draws blood. She’s fierce like that.

Carolyn is inexplicably bad a$$. She doesn’t know it. But she will one day. And then instead of asking her to listen to us, or asking her for help…we’re all going to need to get out of her way. I can’t wait for that to happen.

JMy is bad. But she’s perfectly good at it.

I could go on, and on, and on. I really could. But I’m tired. I’m hungry. And my head seriously hurts right now. I blame pollen. Then estrogen.

Before I say goodnight, I have to say…

This only scratches the surface of the bad a$$ chicks in my life. I’m a seriously lucky girl. We’re all a lil’ crazy (admit it ladies). Regardless, we comin’ down the street like a mother@#$%in parade…Macy’s…

Note: If you’ve never heard of Ludacris, Nicki Minaj or the aforementioned song (My Chick Bad) – this post (and the lyrics I included) probably made very little sense to you. If you chose to Google the aforementioned people and song, this post (and my taste in music) probably made even less sense to you. Sorry about that.




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