5 QUESTIONS For Gucci Mama

This hot momma for a blogger has won my heart very recently, as she is my most recent addition to my blogroll. Her name, well, not actual name, is Gucci Mama and she runs a spectacular blog named Mama Still Wears Gucci. That's her, at the top.

I first happened upon her site through the One Crazy Brunette Chick's blog. After reading quite a few of Gucci Mama's post entries, you'll realize very quickly that she's honest, down-to-earth and quite adept at writing well written opinions and personal accounts in which she let's the reader know just where she stands. And she does it with great humor and style. Addictive reading, for sure.

Check out Mama Still Wears Gucci and see for yourself!

Here are my amazing 5 QUESTIONS and Gucci Mama's titillating answers:

Having just seen your very Patriotic video, involving a sparkler and your cleavage for Independence Day and the other one where you balanced a slice of cheesecake on your boobies, it made me wonder.... What is the weirdest thing anyone has requested that you do for their video entertainment? I mean, besides balancing a horse on your boobs. Also: Did you comply with the request or did you not? If you did, please tell our gentle-hearted, wholesome rabble of readers here what happened if you went ahead with it. And if you didn't do anything, just make it up. Either way, no one will know for sure.

Well, it's only fairly recently that I've shared my gift of balancing things on my epic bosom with the world. You're welcome, world. So people haven't had time to get too out of line with their requests. The horse one was really weird, since the person who suggested it specified that it had to be a real horse. Not sure why that person wants me to die, crushed to death by a half ton beast of burden, but it might hurt my feelings if there was anything where my heart should be other than cobwebs and empty booze bottles. My old boyfriend from college asked for a private reenactment of the cheesecake. He didn't get it. He's an old boyfriend for a reason. Other than that? I'm just waiting for people to get creative, quite frankly. Maybe if Crazy Brunette and I get together I'll fold her up and carry her around in my bra. She's so tiny and cute it could totally be done.


* Rum, whiskey or tequila? And how should any or all be drunk?

Okay, whiskey and I have not been on speaking terms since 2003. I love a tequila sunrise and I will drink rum any way you want to give it to me. Obviously, any and all of these should be sipped delicately from the cup of my cleavage by a hot man who may not speak English, but cuts a damn fine figure in a loin cloth and a smile.


* What would you wish for, if you had 3 wishes?

Who's going to make my dreams come true, love? Find me that person first. That will be my first wish. Someone who will make my dreams come true. And then I will wish for a time machine, so I can travel back ten years or so and go right instead of left. Shit. That almost made it sound like I have a heart after all, which I definitely do not, so my third wish will be as frivolous and vain as I am. For my final wish I will ask for all those dumb bitches I hated in high school to get grotesquely fat. It's seriously one of my favorite things to run into someone from my past who's always just really needed to die and see that she's fatter than a Waffle House line cook.


* Describe the best party you have ever been to or had?

I don't have parties because I hate having people in my house. But, I have been the life of some fabulous parties. There is one that comes readily to mind and it was centered around, ah, me. Specifically my amazing boobsters. There's a bar in the town I went to college in called The Fifth Ace. Every year they have a wet t-shirt contest. Now, I'd never entered before because, really, it just wouldn't have been fair. But the owner of the bar talked me into it, and I gave in. They promoted the shit out of this thing and I was, apparently, the headlining event. Yay me. This little tiny place was meant to hold maybe 75 people. That night people were crammed in there like sardines and, I shit you not, there were people outside fighting over spots at the window. There were easily a couple hundred people there. I can't take all the credit for that; there were some damn hot girls on the stage with me, but I will say that this was the biggest turn out they'd ever had for their little contest. It's a point of pride.

So they had us stand in a kiddie pool, and the guy that won the raffle (I still cannot believe people paid for the chance to win the privilege of dumping ice water over my head) came up on stage and dumped ice water on us. It was no contest, quite frankly. I hope those other girls didn't cry too much over it, but seriously. They needn't have even gotten wet. I emerged from the kiddie pool, transparent shirt clinging to my devil's dumplings to the appreciative cheers of the crowd. I won, obviously. And then I went back the next year and won again. As far as I know, there's still a picture (which I was kind enough to autograph) of me standing in that kiddie pool, soaked and indecent, hanging up in that bar. I am a legend.


* What advice can you give us?

You're a peach to think I'm qualified to give advice, love. If you want to know how to think right, vote right, and act right, find my political posts. They're brilliant and indisputable. If you want to know how to have a fabulous love life, look at what I did and do the exact opposite. Also, don't ever cut your own hair, don't get caught in bed with a living boy or a dead hooker, and never ever EVER ask a man to show you what he means by "adventurous" unless you're VERY sure you won't be repulsed by the answer.

Thank you, Gucci Mama for participating in 5 QUESTIONS.