Tag Archives: ultra exciting

Life sucks and then you die (or how I joined a sitcom and never looked back in anger)

What up mofos??? It IS most certainly UP in ma hood at this very mo – most mo’s to be fair.

Or perhaps not so UP at this particular very mo. Have to admit it has indeed been a thoroughly painful eve fo this lil’ gangsta. Holy crap (YES. Let’s bring holy religion to the table at this latish hour. Or not.). NO RELIGION. I agree to agree with yo scheweet-ass-self on this one.
Yep. NO religion. It’s no fun. (unless it’s Bad Religion – neva get sick of that ultra-special-high-quality-shit. Epic fiesta-FUN material all day every day).

Kinda sucks how ma beloved boyzzz lost (quite fairly) tonite. NOT a fan of that, honestly speaking.

Ima ’bout this impressed…

Gah gah gah gah gah gah. GAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH.

Gah gah gah gah gah gah.
GAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH.

So let’s not speak honestly anymore, kinda boring shit. And not very gangsta. Let’s get excited, let’s have FUN. So what’s FUN? I reckon being a gangsta moviestar is fun.

And what do gangstas do when they wanna have fun and be gangsta-moviestars? And make some sorta statement ’bout da riddicko title-obsessed world we live in? Correct answer would be they create their own dreamish gangsta-fun-title-criticizin’ reality… (or they just smoke shit, but hey – why not do both?).

So ya, that’s what ellagangsta did (apart from referring to herself in 3rd person (which could be considered lame… but not if yo is ellaGANGSTA) ).

YO is indeed a very lucky lil’ wannabe-fun-ass-lovin’-criminal-gangsta… one could say it’s yo lucky day! You get to check this shit OUT.

Check it OUT.

Pretty please lemme know if yo didn’t laugh yo lazy ass OFF – and I’ll refer yo to some sorta lame ass helpline. Back to da honest track again; hope it won’t come to that. And if it does – DO ASK SOMEONE ELSE FO SOME SORTA ASSISTANCE.

Cannot save yo lame ass soul on this one. Not today. So fo everyone’s best well-beingish state of mind, let’s just hope yo enjoy this fine piece of A(ss)rt.

Gonna head back to ma ultra-exciting life now, pinky promise it won’t be too long till ima back. Stay tuned beloved mofos.

 

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Return of da ellaG (or how I will never smoke weed through ma pxxxy)

cooooooool yo.

cool yo.

Soooooooooooo, what up peeps? It’s mos def been a bit of what some would call a while. But that’s no wokkas. I can, and will, explain it all. What happened was, it got massively ultra-dark here in ma hood, and I did this test on FB, “what animal are you?”. Turned out I wazza bear. Shortly after that I went straight into hibernation. Natural thang to do when yo is a bear, duhhhh. Kinda felt good, since I don’t sleep all that much for some, or most, of da time.

Either way, woke up at some point, to: “Welcome to the year of the whores. People around the globe celebrate.

I don’t think I need to explain ma lil’ gangsta ass much, when I admit I went right, and straight back into hibernation. Felt pretty good. Let’s face it peeps, ima no whore, ima muttafucking gangsta bear. Word.

Anyhoo, at some point I did wake up again, it was a very strange smell, still, to this day, I cannot say if it was good or bad. Deffo some good vibes to it, so ya, this smell, and the way it made me feel… Strange combo, but hey, kinda got me goin’, to say the least.

Then life went on, as ya’ll know it’s A supa-ultra-exciting-times-life fo this lil’ gangsta allova time. so ya. For a bit I guess I forgot who I was until…. wait for it… I heard ma song! Yeyo, true story, woke up somewhere, somehow… and heard this – ellagangstaisdamothafuckengaloregangstaofalltimes – So, consider yoself to be a lil’ bit in luck to experience the return of this G.

As yo can see, ima lookin’ mo G than eva… lotsa filters to explore ma gangstaness – ma personal favs are the “food”one, and also the “pirate”one… cray cray pirates FTW me reckons. If yo ass guesses right on which those 2’s are, you will get to smoke some serious shit with me (not like the “this smell” link, that shit is nAstay).

Anyhoo, sharing is caring, and I care a lot boutcha’ll, so ima back with a vengeance, or blog, or whatevz, (same shit, difoo wööörd), to share ma shit whithca all, ultra exciting life as always. Do ya self a favour, and STAY TUNED. (NO MO HIBERNATION BS FTWWW. wööööörd on dat one.)

 

 

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Ma girl crush/Oranges + men = 1 (or how ima sharing the secret to eternal youth with ya’ll)

ellagangstaextensions

ellagangstaextensions

So, still cold in ma hood it appears – no surprises there. Harsh reality galore. Luckily enough I’ve got a new crush to keep me warm these days…. Her name is Yvonne and she is pretty and lovely and inspiring and just… hmmm, what’s the word I’m lookin’ fo here?

A M A Z I N G.

Kinda funny story actually, I first met her in da elevator at work, and she’s always lookin’ so fresh, so clean (as ma bros in Outkast would word it), and she is always supa-lovely and happy. So yep, become one of ma lil’ highlights of ma days, to see- and interact with this broad in da elevators… so naturally a crush developed. Images of her constantly Flickers in ma head-kinda-thang. Which is un ultra-nice aspect of ma ultra-exciting life. Anyhoo, was tellin’ ma boss-crush, (which happens to be ma boss, who I still have no chance in hell with… but hey, still coolio to have two crushes in the one building I spend most of ma days in FTWWW), about this amazing woman. I described both her-, and ma feelings towards her, and he goes, “C’MON lil’ gangsta – don’t you know who that is?” I responded, a bit perplexed, I must add, “NO.” I mean, sure she looked familiar in some ways, but just thought it’s cause she’s so lovely and beautiful and I felt as if we had some sort of connection, and that is why da good ol’ familiar feeling came creepin’ on unda ma wanna-be-in-da-sun-all-da-time-and-therefore-black-skin… Anyhoo, turns out she is Miss fucking Universe…!!!! In Sweden-town we only ever had three Miss Universes:

1955 – Hillevi Rombin

1966 – Margareta Arvidsson

1984 – Yvonne Ryding

So guess who ma Misses U is? Lucky #3 muttafukkas! And I belive there is an explanation to her ultra-supa-extraordinare-freshness – the secret to eternal youth perhaps perhaps – she now works with her own skincare line. What can I say, CLEARLY IT WORKS.

Apart from crushing ma crushes, I’ve also been crushin’ fruit in ma kitchen of late. Tonite when I got home I went on a mission to make massive amounts of smoothies, involving a bunch of fruit (duh). Basically lotsa celery, apples, kiwis etc., (won’t go into too much detail as this is no fucking food-blog – gangsta remember…!), but I must mention that it involved nothing less than 7 blood oranges and 7 regular oranges. I do believe the regular oranges were Spanish, not sure bout the origin of da blood ones.

To think of it, I kinda treat, and think of oranges the very same way I treat, and think of men. Don’t care much bout the origin – if they taste good I’m happy to put ‘em in ma mouth. Sometimes they may look a bit off… and then I usually politely refuse… or I still go for it, but then end up in an awkward spitting-out-situation, which is not healthy for anyone’s self-confidence, neither orange, nor man… also makes me feel a bit sicklish, so in general that is not something I’d recommend to maself, or anyone else for that matter. But ya, origin is neva an issue when it comes to me. To think of it, oranges and men do have lotsa things in common:

For one, there is the issue of seed(s), and there is also the fact that both oranges and men tend to smell very good, amongst a wide range of other shared attributes and qualities. Basically, I like oranges and men a lot, for many different, mutual reasons.

But alrite alrite, bit of a classic off-the-topic-scenario happening here… As you were: Fruit. So yeah, turns out I left my smoothie bottles, I need for ma smoothie machine, at work, so now ima stuck in a serious fruit-salad-gone-wrong-massacre in ma lil’ kitchen, (this funnily enough makes me think of one of ma ex hubbies, who strangely enough isn’t *Moroccan. We used to call him Fruity. Hens the ex-factor when it comes to him in particular). (*Even though I tend to not focus on origin of ma men and/or oranges, most of ma ex-hubbies are Moroccan, since I happened to marry a bunch of ‘em in less than 24 hours… blogged bout that one –  do yo homework homie).

But yes, plenty’o fruit in ma kitchen tonite, deffo some sorta party goin’ on. I should probs not be rude, and instead go on and join it, while it’s still fresh (if ima lucky it’ll be as fresh as ma Miss U).

For those of yos who’re into ellagangstaextensions, there’s a good one today, I will no doubt fall asleep pondering bout how I’d possibly be able to reveal all ma insecurities on ma tiny amounts of skin – not so much space, and epic amounts of inc is ,indeed, a challenge I must face one of these days.

Ultra-exciting life much? da peeps ask me from time to time. “Hellz yeah, ultra-exciting galore“, is ma humble response. Stay tuned.

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From da Gangsta’s Paradise to Big Bro to Celebrity Cook-Off (or how Coolio walked through da valley of da shadow of death)

ellagangstaextensions

ellagangstaextensions

So ya, it’s pretty fucking dark in da Swedo hood right ‘bout now. Sure we finally got some snow, but it’s still dark as hell most of da time, which kinda suits a gangsta in some ways. But in some ways it’s just not very much gangsta at all. So instead of discussing my climate disorder issues, I wanna talk bout anotha gangsta, who mos def has been going through some dark shit too. Da question of da mo is, what da hell happened to Coolio…. ? Ima sure ya’ll been pondering bout this one from time to time…lucky you, you got ellagangsta to tell it how it is – to yo FACE!

So after walking through da valley of da shadow of death, while takin’ a good ol’ look at his life, and realizing there was not much left, probs cause he’d been blastin’ and laughin’ so long, that even his mama thought his mind was gone, he decided it was time to make some changes. While makin’ these changes, he naturally did not cross one single man, or woman, who did not deserve it. No surprises there.

But ya, he was sick’n tired of being treated like a punk – clearly that treatment was not called for. So what did Mr CoolYo do? Yup, this G, da lil’ homies wanted to be like, decided to make an ultra-smart career move, (FYI, this is after he was dropped by Tommy Boy Records, and also managed to tattoo a misspelling on his precious skin), he basically got on his knees in da nite, while sayin’ prayers to da street lights. His prayers was answered and he got to be one of da house-homies on Celebrity Big Bro. This is obviously HUGE. And it was a great success, which resulted in him appearing on anotha Big Bro event, this time it was da ULTIMATE Big Bro.

However, this educated fool with money on his mind, could clearly not live a normal life, since he was raised by da strip, and ended up bein’ removed from da show, due to… WAIT FOR IT… Unacceptable behaviour towards peeps who just weren’t gangsta enough. The way things were goin’ at this late stage… I don’t know. But CoolYo knew, he had to be down with da hood team, and decided it was bout time to find out what was really goin’ on in da kitchen. He did not know what was cookin’, so he took matters into his own hands, and decided it was time to… WAIT FOR IT… cook! Yeyo, this G was no fool, next destination was a Celebrity Cook-Off. Turned out to be a great success, where he ended up bein’ the runner up, raising ten thousand dollars for charity. His menu featured a variety of dishes, mainly consisting of different versions of fried chicken. Some of them were perhaps a bit debatable, but regardless, great success.

Once finished with his fried chicken extravaganza, he still felt incomplete. It was like no one understood-, or could reach him. He felt he was outta luck and everyone was a fool.

Clearly no fool, as previously mentioned, he made the wise decision to appear on the renowned and respected show Wife Swap. Unfortunately his GF left him once the show was recorded… but hey, you win some, you lose some, right? Ain’t no thang for Mr CoolYO. After all, this G has achieved a lot, including producing 6 mini G’s from four diffo intercourse-ships, successfully bullriding a woman (is it just me, or WTF does that even mean???), punching a GF in da face & being charged for it, and appearing the epic show Sabrina the Teenage Witch.

Woah, I feel so much better right now. Who cares ‘bout da darkness…? Things could clearly be worse. Lovin’ ma ultra-exciting life. Stay tuned.

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A fist in ma mouth (or how I bring da P to da Party)

Image

So, been a while. Plenty’o reasons for that one, but mainly thought ma blog was somewhat not an appropriate item in da wake of the passing of a legend and inspiration of our time. Considering he spent 28,42% of his life in prison, and still achieved what he did,,, yup. Not much to say. Glad he stayed around for as long as he did.

So YES, gotta lot to cover here, so gonna return to the “points-format” I efficiently tend to use in these situations. Ready? Here we go – ellagangsta style naturally:

–  There was a storm in Stockers this week, kinda nasty. Yup, “Sven” was creeping all ova da city, like an oldish, retardo force of nature. Hit ya in da face like… Hmmm, well, a real force. Much unlike Miley C. So ya. It also happened to be ma very much beloved father’s name-day. Swedish father I have. Naturally his name is Sven. No fucking surprises right there, (or anywhere to be honest). So this storm I had in ma face was named after ma dad, since the particular storm hit us at da exact same time last year. And last year, on the very same day, was also ma father’s name-day… WOAH. Epic huge galore coincidence? Or… Wait for it.. Wait fo it some more… No more waiting! Is da Swedish climate becoming as predictable as its habitants? Ugh. Very scary, boring thought. Predictable even when being unpredictable = boring.

–  Ok, some more funnish stuff. Had a party at work on Friday. Was some good times, and I DID indeed introduce ma homies to ma one and only state of the art party trick. YES. I did put ma fist in ma mouth. I think everyone had a great nite, and particularly enjoyed the segment where my fist was IN MA MOUTH. Epic hawtness right there fo sho.

– Met up with DA girl I met last week again (am I betting for the other team these days one may wonder?). And we went out to an extra shady hood part of Stockers – man, it was ROUGH to say the least – to this debatable party. It was a bit of a dangerous situation. But we did make it through, and had a blast, while barely surviving.

–  Also, some laundry action (gangsta or not, still live in Sweden town). For the record, I washed ma shower curtain today, so now ma ultra clean self will be even more ultra clean – FTWWW. Gangsta style no doubt.

–  Went to a skateboard competition yesterday, was fucking awesome. Haven’t been a part of that community for a while… and was pretty cool how time pretty much have been standing still. Everything was exactly the same. Loved it bt. Sweden’s got some amazing skating talent, fo sho.

–  Naturally I did put some sushi items in ma mouth on several occasions since I last communicated  with you, tonite was extra good, cause I went to da place where they have two diffo kinds of miso soup. #saynomore

–  Also, this one goes out to all yo pervs out there, it’s almost become custom, me blogging in bed. But keep in mind, I’m still in Sweden-town, and it’s freezing… so, hawt in all da pervie-wrong ways. Will keep you posted and let you know if I ever take ma clothes, including the double layers of socks, off, fo sho.

– Now I’m gonna go fall asleep, pondering bout why it is that Ludacris has absolutely no hoes in Swedish area codes. Swedish women have come a long way. Clearly.

Guess yo probs predicted Ima ultra-excited bout ma ultra-exciting life right bout now. A predictable fact/educated guess that’s da opposite to boring. Stay tuned.

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How to put the V into da I and da P (or why I’m too high to go to sleep)

How to put the V into da I and da P (or why I’m too high to go to sleep)

So, on our last nite, in what we now refer to as “da Kesh”, we went OUT to a club, where a sista from anotha mista used to work (sista from anotha mista is similar to something I’ve described in an earlier post. You just replace brotha with sista, and motha with mista. If you don’t quite get it, I suggest you re-read – naturally assuming yo non-lazy ass already read it – the post I’m referring to, it’s called “Goodbye my almost lover”, and it’s really good). Anyhoo, out we went, and naturally we had a blast. Since my almost lover G used to work there, they took really good care of our harem and us, and we enjoyed some serious VIP boozing and met some new homies. Good times fo sho.

Had a pretty coolio last day too, and managed to find a dealer who sold us our drug of choice, (bein’ da most gangsta of ’em all; sweets/lollies/candy), so we were pretty set when we headed on over back to Stockers… however, by the end of da flight, we’re all feeling ultra-sick, due to our riddicko consumption of lollies, and now I’m so high from all the sugar and cannot sleep. Epic fail indeed. BUT, it did taste pretty good, so c’est la vie on dat one.

Anyhoo, back in Stockers now, very much a short’n sweet sorta trip-thang to do, but we mos deffo had a blast, so all good in da hood right now. Will have to go back to take care of ma husbands pretty soon, can’t wait fo da youngest one to grow up, and be the man I know he already is, (yup, his mos def ma fav hubbie at da mo). Infinite ultra-exciting life galore. Stay tuned.

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THE SPIDER THAT ALMOST KILLED MY FATHER ALSO ALMOST KILLED AN EXPENSIVE HORSE (OR HOW BLACK CAVIARS’ BRO IS FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE)

THE SPIDER THAT ALMOST KILLED MY FATHER ALSO ALMOST KILLED AN EXPENSIVE HORSE (OR HOW BLACK CAVIARS’ BRO IS FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE)

So about 5 years ago ma beloved master of the universe father was in good ol’ Aussie town and got bitten by a white tail spider. However, he somehow did not realize this till he got to Bangers (AKA Bangkok), and he only survived due to the strong meds he received back in the very north of Sweden (don’t ask me how he travelled around half the world dying, that’s just how he rolls basically). Anyhoo, there’s right now an outrage in Australia, cause Black Caviar’s bro (Black Caviar is a 5 million dollar race horse, and Black Caviar’s bro, Jimmy, is a 2-year old, money-making-factory-in-da-making) has been bitten by one of these nasty-ass spiders too! And he’s barely making it. HOLD UP! The latest news just came in, and I quote: “Jimmy developed major complications during treatment. Prognosis 50/50 but he is receiving great care, including overseas consultants”.
In ma world this tragic scenario can only result in two outcomes:
Scenario 1: Jimmy dies, and therefore ma dad is stronger than a horse (AN EXPENSIVE HORSE TOO!!!)
Scenario 2: Jimmy survives, but ma dad’s still stronger, due to the fact he did not seek help from overseas consultants (semi-contradicting maself here, since he got bitten in Oz, and received meds in the most northern parts of Sweden, but hey – he still travelled the world dying, AND it’s my blog!), and he is therefore stronger than a horse (AN EXPENSIVE HORSE STILL!!!)
So apart from having a father, in fact proven by science to be stronger than a horse, I can also declare that I do indeed spend too much time in elevators (will go more into details on that one at a later stage – bet you can’t wait to hear what I get up to in elevators), and that I’m, in fact, having some blood-bro love in ma life tonight. One of ma actual brothas from the SAME motha is visiting (AKA a blood-bro). And we are, quite naturally, havin’ a BLAST (just look at the gangsta/beiber/terrorist photo). My life is almost more ultra-exciting than eva. Stay tuned.
Oh, and here’s the link if yo wanna read more bout Black Caviar’s blood-bro.http://www.theage.com.au/sport/horseracing/black-caviars-5m-halfbrother-fighting-for-life-20131114-2xhpk.html

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