You know during the first month of American Idol how America laughs at the dorks who think they have talent? Oh great, because that's my life now.
I'm happy to report that this week's 8-counts were cheerleadery, so I was more comfortable with the moves and looked somewhat less like a hip-hop failure. We danced to the new Madonna/JT jam - 4 Minutes (To Save the World) and I am going to download it ASAP and practice practice practice. I had more fun this week mostly because I accented my hot moves with some psycho-happy cheerleader facial expressions. I think I was supposed to be scowling and looking mean though, but it's so hard! Bev B will probably mock me for that next week. I think she knows I'm faking my funk center.
I don't understand where everyone else got their funk centers. I think I have a caramel center, and perhaps that's the issue. It's the caramel center that helps me turn every crunk move and pop-and-lock into full-on spirit fingers Jazzercize. When we freestyle, I rock back and forth, flailing my arms and wiggling, just a little more Richard Simmons than Beyonce. It's clear I'd never actually seen myself booty dance, because I wouldn't have knowingly subjected others to that travesty.
Bev B had me in stitches again… I want to keep a notepad with me in class so I can write down every hilarious thing she says, but she would probably stab me in the leg and then make me stretch until my hamstrings fell out and I died from blood loss and hip-hop hysteria. Here are the few things I do remember:
Are you people all homosexuals? Do you not understand the meaning of straight? Straight arms, people! I love homosexuals - but they don't know nothing about being straight - just like y'all!
Are you trying to kill me? I might as well just die then, because your dancing is killing me.
Hold up, turn off the music! (Bev B and assistants laugh) Y'all mean to tell me you would actually dance like that at a club?
Yeeeeah, what? Uuhhhh. Yeaaaah! Bam! Grrrrr!
Don't bend your knees. I am not gonna keep telling you not to bend your knees. Use your brains, precious dancers. You paid me good money for this, why did you do that if you're not going to improve?
Fifty percent of hip-hop is common sense. Editor's Note: Really? I think fifty percent of hip-hop is being made of Jello and the rest is being angry.
If it hurts it's because you're neglecting your body. Imagine how much you're going to suck if you don't stretch every day like I said.
At the end of class, I thanked Bev B and she said, "I love you, Purple ('cause that's what color shirt I was wearing.)" Woot! Either I'm really good or so bad that she can't help but love me… OMG I'm the William Hung of hip-hop. SHAME!