Sarahs Views on the World

Tag Archives: cracker


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Slight Cracker Jack…

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Subtle Cracker Jack…

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Tacky Cracker Jack…

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Sexy Cracker Jack…

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Full On Cracker Jack…

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Too Much Cracker Jack…

Sarah

Sarah Ain’t No Cracker Jack…

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I was wondering just how special of a person you have to be to talk “loudly” in public on your cell phone???  Are you that important???  Or are you just that pathetic…..  After listing to your conversation that of course I and anyone within a 20 foot radius was forced to endure…  I am starting to lean a bit more in the “pathetic” direction…  I mean really…  Do you honestly think myself and everyone else needed to hear about your day???  What you ate???  What you deposited in the bathroom??? Yes, No, Yes… not sure…   Ooohhh..  not sure???  That in itself is disturbing alone…

What makes you feel so damn important that it is necessary for all of us around you to know about your life???  I really don’t care what time you pick up your kids…. I really don’t care what happened in your day… and I am fairly certain the person whose ass you are riding in line due to your pure ignorance of respect of personal space cares about the fact that your baby girl has a snotty nose and you had to stop by your mom’s house on the way home from work so you could borrow $20 bucks to buy your baby girl some stuff for her whittle stuffy nose… Hey,  I am only repeating it the way you told your friend or should I say “friends” on the other end of the phone call …  because it was quite apparent you made lots of calls….  to lots of people… I would have loved to been able to speak up and say… I don’t see any stuffy nose medicine in your basket, that look more like a bottle of ghetto cat negro white wine at $3.99 a bottle… ooh baby….  nothing like a cheap hangover… that is if one bottle will still give you a hang over.. though judging by your complexion.. I would feel safe to say NO… oh and Hell no… baby….  I am fairly certain your baby girl is home with the neighbor brat and feeling quite fine and the rest of that money will go for gas, some smokes and some drive thru off the dollar menu..  Bt you keep on a calling and talking and baby girl as my cracker ass white ghetto Auntie likes to say… you just have a good night and you give them all a call after you have taken care of that bottle… “baby girl”…  you really have the stuffy nose… and the cell phone to be important…  Real important…

Could be worse… as I experienced the other day standing in the DMV line… which brings up a very important thought.. Is there an IQ requirement to work there???  I am fucking pretty damn sure… answer is NO.. and I could go down the list of a few other govermnent agencies.. but why… I was the DMV….  they are special.. but hell, what could I say, my sorry ass was there too.. right???  Replacing some mis placed ID…the kind that losers who use their cell phones they paid for with other peoples ID’s when they help themselves to their wallets… Oh, wait… get off the soap box and trash tweakers another day.. ( mental note… trash tweakers )… LOL..  like I could forget that.. so back to DMV…where IQ’s to be employed, not required… but better yet…. if you go to a place like the DMV and are forced to endure standing in line for any period of time, you will not only observer or should I say… hear tweakerville mentioned above.. but you also get to experience “texters”… speed  texters… people whom are so engrossed in their new phone that they don’t hear tweakerville, they don’t even know that anyone or thing exists other than their phones that are color coordinated to match their personalities…  they text, they don’t ever look up…. they are texting at least 5 different people at the same time…  They don’t see you, hear you or the person in front of them.. the only reason they move is their head is bent forward looking down at the phone they are texting on and they notice the space of distance now in front of them from the person whom has moved up ahead.. these  people are truly amazing…. However, I am not sure they would be able to engage in an actual oral conversation….  they are only able to communicate thru text… so their phone makes them as important as tweakerville… but we shall call them….hmmm… I am thinking… we shall call them.. BFS Texters… that will stand for Big Fucking Special Texters…  Ahhh… my day at the grocery store and the DMV…  just doesn’t fucking get any better… now does it…  Howver, I now know how important a cell phone can make you… lol!!!  NOT….

Ciao Bella.. Bitchy Ass Sarah B…. I think I will go pour myself a glass of white ghetto wine, make a few calls and text a few people before calling it a night, so I can fit right in…



Atrist Gregory Hergert

While chatting with a girlie friend of mine over a bottle of cheap white wine the other day, making fun of the the mullets that women still wear and simply asking each other “Why?”….Do they not own mirrors???    No honey, the wine we were drinking wasn’t Chablis… But we have been down that road a time or two in the past and have pinky swore over the toilet the next day that we would never take that trip together ever… no matter how fucking god damn dirt poor we are… get…stay… will be… LOL!!!  While, we are able to recognize that we were not in the most of upscale places… but instead a bit closer to the hood – ghetto – crack central, whatever your neighborhood calls it, where they sell cheap ass white, red or worst yet pink wine.. Honey, we aren’t that proud…   We consider ourselves “Thrifty” spenders… maximizing our dollars!!!

We now have begun to notice of what we call several G. C.’s sitting amongst us while on our upscale night out…  G.C.’s???  You ask what is that???  Come on Muffin… you gotta know what a G.C. is… don’t you???  Really,  I mean, who doesn’t???  What could G.C. possibly stand for???  Oh please… get over yourselves… you simply aren’t that high up the ladder to think it is something nice… I mean, really get over your wide ass load self…  Everyone has a definition of what G.C. stands for… Now, in our case a G.C. stands for the following…

Ghetto Cracker…  “Our definition”  is a white, wide ass,  mullet wearing, 80’s hair with poofy bangs, blue eye shadow, pouring herself into a pair wranglers with what I like to call a super “double muffin top”… one above her belt.. and one that is stacked on top of her real set of boobs… ( god I hope those are real, cuz they are scaring the hell outta me and any kids around!!! )  You know the ones, they pop out the top of the bra she should have thrown away 3 cup sizes ago or should I say, 3 kids ago, but she holds onto as it is the only way she is able to keep those “puppies” remaining pointers and not setters… that is a Ghetto Cracker…  Now G.C. can mean a few other things… let’s say…

Good Christian… please do you really want me of all people to give you the “Sarah B” view of a Good Christian… OK, you asked for it… and here is goes…  The same lame ass Ghetto Cracker listed above who is hung over on Sunday mornings after picking up her multiple children from multiple fathers at the all night baby sitter…. oh please, let not forget to add multiple races… (gotta keep it in the hood, bario, crack central)  She chugs a few cups of yesterday’s cold coffee, lights a few smokes… (ooh!!!)   Wipes off last nights make up and put on a jean skirt and boots and drags her wide ass load and 3 chicklets to church for 3 hours Sunday morning… 1 day a week… give or take a few extra trips on holidays… that is my definition of a “Good Chetto Christian Cracker”…  Now we could expand and say G.C. stood for the following…  Got Child???  Here is the meaning…  Mullet man is hitting on mullet woman in a western bar and wants to get some action that night… but is wondering if she’s “Got Child or Got Children” at home or is he going to have to bring her to his mom’s house to do his wild monkey love dance…   (ooohhh!!! YUCK!!!)  OR… it could mean or should I say silently whisper… Got Child!!!   So, mullet woman is on the hunt for a mate for the next few months…  Welfare isn’t quite making the bills… so, she is on the prowl and needs to weed out the weak and the smart… she seeks the longest mullet with the most empty cans of beer in front of him… cozies her big ole double muffins up to him and catches his eyes… then whispers a few things in his ear…  she is fully aware he is wanting some big yummy muffins for breakfast… so she silently mouths… I Got Child!!!… He doesn’t run…cuz he can’t get his eyes out of her muffins cups… and  baby cakes, those beers make damn fucking great goggles…  so they hop into his firebird and now the rent is paid for a few months…

Now.. G.C. could also mean… “Gonad Crusher”… I love this term… because after our “Ghetto Good Christian Cracker” that’s “Got Child” ( multiple!!!)  is done, used up and movinng on from her mullet man… cuz all his money is gone and his firebird is in need of  a new ashtray; the right side sits just a ad bit bit lower… So she is about to become theMaster “Gonad Crusher” and move on to the next unsuspecting mullet man and maybe try to move up the food chain a bit, find herself someone who drinks from a bottle instead of a can and drives a thunderbird – shit at least he won’t be drinking it sugar… After all of that, her rent will be taken care of for a few more months while the 4th baby from the last mullet head is incubating… away… Ahh… gotta love those G.C. women… don’t ya… Hell No!!!

Keep them as far away fromme and honey, you should stay the hell away from all G.C.s… OR… you know what you will be doing the next 18 or so years…paying for it…and baby, there ain’t no box lunch that good…beer goggles or not…

Ciao Bella…. Sarah.. B

 Artist Gregory Hergert



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