Spring Break
The Daily OrangeRelations with Ms. Fat Bootie
By Danny Fersh
Posted: 10/7/09, 12:27 AM EST Section: Feature
This week I had to write a reflection essay for CFS 388: Human Sexuality. Since my roommates find my love life pretty funny, I thought you might, too. Enjoy:
The most unique aspect of my sex life at Syracuse University has nothing to do with the Miley Cyrus action figurines on my shelf. Nor is it related to my intense hippopotamus fetish.
Rather, the most remarkable part of my love life is how closely it resembles my favorite song, "Ms. Fat Booty" by Mos Def.
Granted, since I got here I've yet to experience anything close to the nine-month roller-coaster ride Mos and Sharice have in the song, but the range of emotions the rapper goes through during this four-minute epic fits in perfectly with nearly all of my various flings.
(Yes, the Jewish kid from the suburbs of Washington just compared himself to a Brooklyn rapper. Word to your mother.)
Phase 1: In she came with the same type game/The type of girl givin' out the fake cell phone and name.
OK, I don't usually come away from my female encounters with an alias and a fake number (except for that one time my Spanish teaching assistant gave me a six-digit number and said her name was Evita Peron), but I tend to fail miserably with first impressions.
(Especially if she has what Mos Def would call an "a** so fat that you could see it from the front.")
If I'm interested in a girl, nine times out of 10 my first impression ends with a loud insult and an Ugg boot to the gut. For Mos, the results are identical:"I tried to play it low key but couldn't keep it down/ Asked her to dance she was like 'Yo, I'm leaving now.'
It's like we're long-lost relatives. (Is there any chance "Mos" is short for "Moses"?)
Phase 2: Say word, you is the same pretty girl that I had priorly observed
This is where Mos and me work some serious game, albeit from different angles. In the song, he captures Sharice's heart with the typical "I'm a famous rapper and really friggin' cool" strategy.
The most unique aspect of my sex life at Syracuse University has nothing to do with the Miley Cyrus action figurines on my shelf. Nor is it related to my intense hippopotamus fetish.
Rather, the most remarkable part of my love life is how closely it resembles my favorite song, "Ms. Fat Booty" by Mos Def.
Granted, since I got here I've yet to experience anything close to the nine-month roller-coaster ride Mos and Sharice have in the song, but the range of emotions the rapper goes through during this four-minute epic fits in perfectly with nearly all of my various flings.
(Yes, the Jewish kid from the suburbs of Washington just compared himself to a Brooklyn rapper. Word to your mother.)
Phase 1: In she came with the same type game/The type of girl givin' out the fake cell phone and name.
OK, I don't usually come away from my female encounters with an alias and a fake number (except for that one time my Spanish teaching assistant gave me a six-digit number and said her name was Evita Peron), but I tend to fail miserably with first impressions.
(Especially if she has what Mos Def would call an "a** so fat that you could see it from the front.")
If I'm interested in a girl, nine times out of 10 my first impression ends with a loud insult and an Ugg boot to the gut. For Mos, the results are identical:"I tried to play it low key but couldn't keep it down/ Asked her to dance she was like 'Yo, I'm leaving now.'
It's like we're long-lost relatives. (Is there any chance "Mos" is short for "Moses"?)
Phase 2: Say word, you is the same pretty girl that I had priorly observed
This is where Mos and me work some serious game, albeit from different angles. In the song, he captures Sharice's heart with the typical "I'm a famous rapper and really friggin' cool" strategy.
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