Rap Wars

This week, my Facebook has been in frenzy of rhyming and rapping as my friends and I have engaged in a battle of words. The madness started when one of our friends said that he thought that my roommate Jessica and I are the closest set of roommates in our group of friends. Roommates Andrew and Nick didn't appreciate that pronouncement, and proceeded to initiate a battle to determine better roommates. For the last week or so we've been competing for roommate dominance, and it culminated this week with poetry.

I opened a can of worms when I innocently wrote a poem on Jessica's Facebook that went thus:

And now, a kind of rhyming, mostly not poem.

Ode to a Roommate:

Jessica, Jessica, you're so great!
Jessica, Jessica, your paper takes the cake!

You rock my socks,
You're a ShamWow roommate,
If you were any more great,
You'd have to wear a cape! (because you would be a super hero.)

About 15 minutes later, Andrew, taking this as a challenge wrote on Nick's wall the following:

My good pal nick just look at you
your hat is sweet I like your shoe
My roommate is the coolest guy
If you feel low he'll bring you high
Nick exercises with the goal
that he wont run into a pole
His hair is short his toes are long
now lets all join in this great song

all praise nick! the greatest guy I know
he'll help me through my struggles, in earthquake rain or snow
all praise nick! the greatest guy is he
his bathroom explosions are the best you'll ever see

Ok, so I was sitting in the Blue Line Deli just laughing out loud when I read this. I gave Andrew major props, but I didn't realize that this was only the beginning! The rest of Tuesday evening and all of yesterday produced the following, increasingly hilarious and gangsta correspondences:

Nick to Andrew, 3:17p.m. on Oct. 14:

*ahahEM*
Andrew Starita,
your name rhymes with pita.
Though others tell us we are not very tight,
I have to disagree with all my might.
You see, only true friends can sing songs in the shower,
like miley, j-bros, and tower of power.
We come from humble origins,
meek, lowly, and somehow...oh dang nothing rhymes with that word...ummm
You are oh so freakin buff,
I shudder when you threaten to rough me up.
But I know that I am stronger,
because my toes are so much longer,
than yours.
word.
So as the days go by,
I sit here and wonder why,
you would write about our bathroom races,
on this here book of faces.
But thats really okay,
I don't hold a grudge in any way;
because we are just that tight,
I think Jess and Emily know whats right,
to give up now
and stop using their imitator shamwow,
and find out that the truth,
seen by all the most novice of slueths,
it is that Andrew and I are the tightest roommates,
because his name rhymes with pita.

Nick to Jessica and Me, 11:04 a.m. on Oct. 15:

*AhEm* k...
Emily and Jessica,
you think you two are friggin hot,
but ya'll should realize you are so not.
You see, andrew and I rule this coup,
we're hot like hot dogs, baked beans, chicken noodle soup.
When the both of you simply open your eyes,
and take in all of our roommatey goodness you'll be surprised,
at how much we guys are truly made for one another,
like patrick and spongebob we are true blue brothas.
word.
So listen up you two gals,
I know you think you are great pals,
but on the inside andrew and I beat you both,
on the inside is what really means the most.
That's where you'll find the care,
that's where you'll find we share,
the tightest bond ever known to man,
woman, child in all the land.
If you feel like you two still are closer than we
I recommend taking a look in mirror and then you'll see,
that there is no hope,
yo, you chicks are dope.
But that's okay,
cuz we love you anyway,
take care,
fuzzy bear,
Andrew and I have the most bangin hair.

Me to Nick, 4:32 pm. on Oct. 15:

This is a story about two roommates, Em and Jess.
Way more ShamTastic than Spanky and A-Star, these girls are the best.
Their bangin room has a homey glow
which makes them better, don't cha know.
Andrew and Nick, their lights are fluorescent,
because their inferior friendship is not effervescent.

But hold the phone, Nick talks so big,
but their hair is whack; whackier than a jig.
Sure, Andrew loves Nick, though not as much as Em loves Jess,
for Andrew's tendency to forget his backpack causes Nick heart-damaging stress.
Nick, you may wear lavender frost,
but do you have polka dot Halloween socks?

Jess and Em are da bomb.
Together, we could beat even the mob.
You fools have no clue
what for real friendship can do.
We're homes to the core,
how can we ask for more.

Word.

And finally, it culminated last night with a truce, in the form of a truly awesome rap by shawty Nick:

Nick to Emily, 11:01 p.m. on Oct. 15:

"To the Max"
Well hold the phone right there young soul,
this poemy goodness has gotten way outta control.
It was all fun and games til you wrote on Jess' wall,
a note, a poem, whatever it was, it was seen by all.
So now it's my turn,
and I hope ya'll will learn
how to end the contest,
and put this killer rappin to rest.

(Cue the white guy doin a sick beat-box)

Emily, Emily, Emily Wood,
yo this girl is tight, straight outta the hood,
she punches numbers by day and does homework all night,
askin for nothing, only pickin a fight,
over an ibc,
or maybe some cookies from me.
But what I really like,
are her shamtastic pies,
to the max, apple jacks,
freedom fries, just relax,
Shamwow, snowplow,
this girl is hot, don't touch her, OWW!!!!
From the dub-ya-V
this thing is straight from me,
so I'm out
like a sprout,
in the springtime with no drought.
Goodnight,
sleep tight,
from ya boy, I'm so darn white.

This made my night. My friends are hilarious.

Word.