How Sir Mix-a-Lot Changed My Paradigm (Life Changing Epiphanies and Redemption Through "Baby Got Back")
With all the talk about butts on this site, I figured it was time to throw in my two cents. Hell, if Maloney, Jacobs, and Zambezi can do it, than so shall I. Maybe some day we can change the name to Food and Booty.
I can remember that cold ass winter really well. It was the winter I discovered girls and music. Most specifically, Guns N' Roses and Metallica, mostly because I had seen how girls reacted to their slow songs, but the heavy stuff really got me hoooked. It was like trying Mike's Hard Lemonade at some party, and having that lead to drinking vodka and absinthe, which is about what happened to me (another story). I was about to get schooled in rap and the secrets of female anatomy.
"There's this song about a guy who just talks about big butts," one of my brothers told me.
Wow. A guy who likes big butts. That's really weird, I thought. Everyone was always making fun of the fat girls, or girls percieved to be fat. Why on earth would anyone like big butts?
My brother brought home one of those copied cassettes we had back then, with the offending song, and we listened to it intently. Most of the lexica went in one ear and out the other, seeing as how we lived on an island in the middle of a fucking lake and had never heard street slang, but there was a lot of important stuff in there. It took years for me to really understand everything, but the message reached me from the beginning.
"When a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist and a round thing in your face you get sprung."
Just with those lines, I started to take note of what was below the waist, because Sir Mix-a-Lot said that I should. Up until then, I was all into faces, boobs, and especially hair (the longer, the better--I still have a real thing for long, healthy, light hair), with vaginas being the holy grail of universal mysteries. But then I started to wonder: could an ass too be an object of desire? Whatfore art thou to do with a big booty? In those days, I didn't have Food and Pussy around, or even the internet, and my imagination was not well developed.
Sir Mix-a-Lot had written this funny rap song, and it had gone to become a top hit, being played on our shitty top 40 radio even. There was something more to this, I knew it, but I could not take the song, it's message about big butts, seriously. Sir Mix-a-Lot's credibility, I foolishly believed, lay only in his ability to write an amusing tune. After all, butts were only for farting and pooping, so how could you find a girl and her butt beautiful? But therein lay the ultimate mystery, the ceremony of opposites, connecting beauty to disgust, and light to darkness. How could Gawd put the holes for excretion and reproduction in such close proximity?
There was one older girl I liked with long chestnut hair. It was an afternoon in mid-March, very sunny. It was like Gawd wanted to show me something important. I remember clear as day how this girl bent over slightly as she got out of someone's car. I noticed the curves of her body and the outline of her underwear underneath her sweatpants. I was absolutely mesermerized as she stood their in the long rays of a winter's afternoon sun, pondering the buns that lay beneath those sweatpants, and what underwear was holding them back. It was the manifestation of my Virgin Mary with her own stigmata to boot!
My Master, Sir Mix-a-Lot had not deceived me. From that moment on, I swore to never doubt his teachings because I, at last, understood.
I had been reborn in his image.
"So Cosmo says you're fat, well I ain't down with that!"
Later, when I started to get into Ice-T and even heavier metal, I started fancying this Turkish/Irish chick. My best bud, Kowalski, was always giving me crap for my taste in women, saying I liked the "chunky butts." I would never have admitted it, as this certain desire lurked deep in my subconscious, but it was absolutely true. Everybody was drooling over girls with dinner plate sized butts and little waists, skinny little things, but I just couldn't wrap my head around that. How could someone hug a girl like that without fearing that one would crush her frail bones? They looked like little girls. I wanted the big girls, and not just in the mature sense.
What kind of a guy doesn't want a girl who looks like a woman? And anyway, when you look at a girl with a nice butt, you know that she probably likes a nice meal, and will appreciate the luxuries you bestow upon her. Try dating a chick with an eating disorder, and you'll find out the price that goes with that "beauty." The path to that epiphany was a long ways in the future, but I had already digested the meaning of my Master's message. Sadly, most of my compatriots were to never hear the Good News.
Like a persecuted Jew in Nazi Poland, I learned to hide my convictions. When those in my class finally decided that girls were interesting, I would lie and say that I liked the same blonde bimbos as everyone else. I practiced my faith in secrecy, confiding in my trusty tapedeck, to which I could reguarly turn to hear the guiding voice of my Master and study his scriptures.
"I'm hooked and I can't stop staring."
That summer, my parents took my borthers and I with them to visit friends in Frankfort. While we got on real well with one other dude there, and he had a neighbour girl named Vanessa, with whom I fell in love, and completely destroyed everything on my radar up until then. She was a year old than me, had long, wavy blonde hair, bangs and a booty. I'm sure she never noticed me, and being absolutely socially fucking retarded, I never talked to her much. This was well before Facebook and internet, so she is lost forever, as she was then.
Crystal Lake was just a ways away, and a swimming pool, both of which we adequately took advantage of, and quite often, Vanessa joined us. I found myself hypnotized, gazing steadily at her booty in those neon green leopard prints. Every time we went to the lake, the pool or wherever, I always asked if we could invite Vanessa. Not even the CDs I had just bought could distract me from that butt. It was almost with tears that I left Frankfort several days later, listening to Slayer's "Crionics" as I reminisced about Vanessa and her booty.
I met up with Kowalski and told him of the wonders I had seen on the mainland. I don't know if he could grasp what I was talking about, but he had been hitting on some summer chick named Andrea at the campground down the street. He was talking about her tits, and I was talking about Vanessa's booty, the both of us nearly coming to blows over which was better. Kind of stupid for two guys who had never, and probably never will see the girls in question, eh?
My parents' friends came to visit that winter, and brought with them a homevideo of a birthday party back in Frankfort. On it there was a flash of Vanessa, sitting with her back to the camera. She turned her face, as does the Sun Goddess, to bless me with her rays, but she had already blessed me with her lunar aspect. For the rest of winter I was set, those few frames of video burned into my memory to bring me through the dark days.
There have been many instances in my life where I have been with a girl with a tiny booty, and it's just felt wrong. I was indeed not heeding my master's teachings, and straying from the path of righteousness. It was self deceit, denying my true nature, with which Gawd has blessed me. So it is always with a sense of coming home when I lay my fingers on the supple flesh of a massive, healthy bottom.
"Do you want to roll in my Mercedes?"
My Master also influenced my taste in cars, forever making me a fan of black Mercedes sedans. And it is only in such cars that provide proper seats for the reals booties, where they will be lovingly caressed by the plush cushions when one's hands are too busy with driving. And a Mercedes is a symbol of power from Albania to Zimbabwe, making it instantly recognizable and appealing to women of all nations.
The single greatest geopolitical catastrophy of the 20th century to affect developing nations is the proliferation of Baywatch. Pamela Anderson has become a role model of sorts, as the single greates pinnacle of American beauty. This has led women in many undeveloped countries to focus far too much on the size of the front so as to attract American gentleman. As a consequence, booties are being ignored, singled out, and even persecuted in many countries.
It is my belief that if we were to translate "Baby Got Back" into many languages, women would understand that with big booties they could definitely ride in someone's Mercedes. Perhaps an aggressive advertising campaign with the German automobile manufacturer would aid in this process.
As it stands, only Central and South America are strongholds of booty loving, as evidenced by Arnold Schwarzeneggar's 80's travel documentary masterpiece, Arnold Schwarzeneggar in Brazil. Sadly, this generation doesn't know Arnold as well as they should, given the fact that Hollywood continues blaspheming his legacy with shitty movies and sissy actors.
These are but a few factors threatening the booty. And they could be coming to a town near you, if you don't stand up, show your true face, and proclaim the omnipotence of the booty.
"Even white boys' got the shout."
Apart from getting lost in residential neighbourhoods, I am known to my friends as the guy who likes girls with long hair, strange noses, and big butts. They always said that I was part black, and maybe I am. But I follow my instincts, without questioning them. And they always lead me to plus size rumps.
To shun those females with plus sized bottoms is to turn your nose at a huge chunk of the population, with a great many of the world's people now overweight. And it's all so that you can compete for the same "bean pole dames in the magazines." What a waste.
I have seen the light and changed my ways. Without Sir Mix-a-Lot, the unchallenged guru of badonkadonks, where would I be today? Where would you be today?
Ponder that on the tree of woe.
Gospel tracks:
Sir Mix-a-Lot "Baby Got Back"
Digital Underground "Humpty Dance"
Spinal Tap "Big Bottom"
MC Creu "O DJ Controla Sua Bunda"
Peaches "My Dumps"
Corpse Maggot "Anal Fist Orgy"
Watch:
Arnold Schwarzennegar in Brazil
