My Guilty Pleasure Song of the Week

I was going to post a Wordless Wednesday about my love for ZGallerie but something more pressing has come to my attention, and I feel it's only fair to share it with you, the ATOTS readers.

Since I didn't seem to have an issue just coming out with my J.Biebs U Smile I Smile obsession last week,  I decided I'm going to start a new segment every Wednesday called Charlie's Guilty Pleasure Song Selections That Make Her Loved Ones Hang Their Head In Shame (working title). So without further ado I present to you this week's guilty pleasure...

Flo Rida-Club Can't Even Handle Me ft. David Guetta

Yes. I won't lie to you people, I LOVE this song. Why? Why NOT? Could it be the punchy beat? Catchy lyrics? ("You know I know how, to make 'em stop and stare as I zone out...The club can't even handle me right now...watchin' you I'm watchin' you we go all out...." Move over Shakespeare, Flo Rida is in town.) Who knows. All I know is whatever Flo is selling...I'm buying.

See, I sort of have a problem with liking rap/hip hop music. I mean it's not really a problem other then when I start to rap to songs, in the car for instance, and Joel looks at me with eyes that say, "If you don't stop immediately I'm going to pull the car over and make you walk home. Run and tell THAT!" I blame my many years of AAU basketball where perpetual wearing of sports bras, combined with my Allen Iverson bball shoes made for one GhEtTo FaBuLoUs little blonde girl. I'm seeing someone about it, OK? And his name is Doctor...Dre. ZING!!

This

+

This

=

Woopsies!

(Ew, no. Neither one of those lovelies is me. How could you even think such a thing? Everyone knows my chest tattoo is on my left side, duh.)

But let me just settle one thing real quick. I am by no means a "clubber". I'm pretty sure the last CLUB I was at was The Old Firehouse circa 9th grade (shoutout to any NOVA people reading). But that doesn't stop me from being obsessed with this song and everything it represents! Was I JAMMING OUT to this song on the way home from work today? Yes. And was my yet-to-be-born-but-totally-with-the-program baby silently judging me in utero being like, "Really mom? Fist pumping?! Really? 'Beating up the beat'? Isn't that alittle 'Snooki' of you, ma?! I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed." Well...yes. But I say pish posh little baby. This is just THE START of the many things I will do that will embarrass you through out your life. Welcome aboard.

So am I alone on this one? Help a sister out!

-Charlie