In “Marvin’s Room” with JoJo
We all know that Drake The Type… but did you know that JoJo, the early-aughts teen R&B sensation, took his lame ass song “Marvin’s Room” and made it into the ultimate party-girl-scorned song without any bullshit or frills? I KNOW - I’M SO EXCITED! After I discovered this song, I decided I liked JoJo, because she reminds me so much of my female friends who make poor life decisions, especially when it comes to the opposite of sex. So, yeah. She reminds me of me.
Here’s the song:
If you haven’t heard this gem, listen and learn. I’ve posted JoJo’s sick ass lyrics in italics, and my responses to her lamenting in normal text. This conversation is theoretical, I don’t actually know JoJo. That’s probably a good thing, we’d likely get in a shit-ton of trouble together.
"I’ve been up three days…Adderall and Red Bull.”
Girl! That’s such a ratchet combination. Was the deli outta Sparks or something? Are you trying to combat a hangover or are you afraid to call your dealer for other stimulants? Wait - is your nose bleeding? Jesus Christ, you’ve got blue boogers. You’ve been snorting it?? That’s so…sophomore year of high school.
"This call is a mistake…"
I don’t want to be a party-pooper, but I’ve gotta agree with you. Maybe we shouldn’t be calling your ex-man right now, you’ve been awake for three days on some ratchet faux-caine and you’re buzzing like a cheap vibrator.
"There’s something strong in this water bottle."
Sweet – can I have a sip? You have to pull yourself together. Hanging out with you when you’re all bummed out like this reminds me of the time I got hung up on this philandering ginger bartender with an IQ of 72. All of my friends still make fun of me for getting so worked up over him, but good dick will imprison you, TRUST.
"I hear you got a new chick…"
No. No. No. Don’t talk about the other chick. It always makes you look jealous and petty and like a yappy-ass chihuahua and those are worse than cats.
A dancing little Barbie doll
Dude, forget about basic Barbie-ass blondes. They physically age at like triple the rate as thick brunettes, my literal plastic surgeon told me that. Don’t say that - shh! Unless you can find a way to tell him that without sounding crazy. Maybe send him a pic of Renee Zellweger alongside Penelope Cruz? Our skin will stay supple and I’m willing to bet that our vaginas stay juicier. It’s because we eat so much olive oil, we’re gushy. Has anyone done a study on that? We’re gonna look fresh in our caskets and Basic Barbie is going to be melted wax like a peach crayon left on a radiator. Don’t say that to him, though. Just know it.
I feel so pathetic!
Don’t say that to him either!! Didn’t I just make you feel so much better about yourself? Even if you feel shitty you have to pretend to be confident - that’s like in the How To Be Rejected #101 Primer.
But you still haven’t heard it all.
I hope you aren’t going to keep dissing his new chick. Diss her to me but don’t call this bitch and talk about his bitch. Makes you look jealous and petty.
Fuck that new girl that you like so bad…
She’s not crazy like me, I bet you like that!
I said fuck that new girl that’s been in your bed
And when you’re in her, I know I’m in your head.
Wow. You really went for it, huh? I have to say, it’s good that you didn’t resort to making fun of his new girl’s physical appearance, and now that you’ve made the suggestion that he’s thinking of fucking you when he’s fucking her, it’s going to happen, at least once, and possibly on a regular basis. Maybe you should take adderall, red bull, and vodka together more often.
I’m just saying you can do better
I always turned you on every time we were together
Once you had the best, boy, you can’t do better.
Baby, I’m the best, so I can’t do better.
JoJo, I have no idea what kind of lay you are but since you were a child star and you seem to have more than a little life experience I’m going to assume that you’re at least an 8/10 in the sack. If his chick really is a Barbie-doll type, it’s probably safe to assume that she puts very little effort into blow jobs, unless she’s a Barbie-doll type that also goes to Burning Man because those blonde chicks are generally more sexually adventurous than your garden variety “I went to Williams College” retardlican blonde. AMIRITE?
I run into your homeboys
I didn’t even know people still used the term “homeboy” anymore. I think it’s so unhip that my dad uses it on a regular basis.
They’re all fucking idiots
You’re not even my boyfriend
But they’re tripping cuz I’m in the club.
Wait – JoJo – no disrespect, but this fool wasn’t even your boyfriend? And we’re calling him and leaving him a longer-than-10-second voicemail? Voicemails are intimate. If this was just a hook-up situation, you should have just let me help you with a text or two or three tweets…or maybe one vaguely evil Instagram. This whole Voicemail thing is a little agressive.
Yeah that’s right I’m dancing
And something cool is in my cup
A good rule of thumb is that when you aren’t sure what cocktail you’re drinking, it’s time to stop drinking. Not that I know from experience.
…Imma send a sexy picture
To remind you what you giving up
NO! JoJo we can’t go into the club bathroom and take a picture of your boobs. Stop making duckface. You’ve been pounding CVS-speedballs for the past three days - you aren’t looking your best. Jeez…
Look, this has been fun and everything but Imma walk you to the deli and buy you a coconut water and catch a cab. Text me and let me know what happens - and don’t send any selfies. Promise?
Fuck that new bitch that you like so bad…
She’s not crazy like me, I bet you like that…
My Uber is here, but before I go, one last thing: Once you admit to being crazy you can never use the “I’ve got my shit together and you don’t” card ever again. Is admitting to this fool that you’re crazy worth it? It’s seriously like cutting off your nose to spite your face. And we all know you need dat nose for the addy, homegirl.