Ludacris and I would beg to differ on who can be turned into a housewife. (Also, wow, I’d never seen the video for this song. Wow. Bad computer animation of pole dancing? Really?)
I mean, this is in my oven
(See that Luda? I’ve got crack cake, not a crackpipe)
I kick some booty at being a housewife. This is put away
I changed the sheets and made the bed
I packed my fiance’s lunch, poured his coffee, and got the paper
Emptied the dishwasher, washed the coffee pot, took out the trash…
And sewing an apron (custom made, custom paid, and custom fitted buddy) is on my to do list.
What now Luda, what now? I’m doubting you tell the truth at all now friend. I bet parties in Atlanta stop before 8 in the mornin’ too, don’t they.
See if I tell you my fantasy now Luda.
Besides being a housewife and telling rappers whats up I made a crazy good breakfast
Killer Bread French Toast! With crack on top (I chopped up a nectarine and nuked it for 3 minutes with some agave. Tasty!)
And last night’s dinner was crazy good too:
Whole wheat pasta with roasted peppers, tomato, basil, parm, garlic, and a splash of cream. This housewife put the peppers basil and tomatoes in the crockpot for a few hours, which made the flavors all blend amazingly, but kept a chunkier texture. Super good.
(The internet tells me it enhances the flavor of the tomatoes. My brain tells me it’s fun to add booze to things)
But sorry Luda, even with one more drink, I’m not going to end up believin’ you. 503 is staying off your list of area codes, at least as far as this housewife is concerned. I’d recommend you get back, cause you don’t know me like that.