Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Word to Project Pat. Here is the long-awaited sequel to my exposé on these niggas that just don't seem to think outside the box until it's taped shut. These niggas that don't seem to see the light until it's too bright and then scatter like cockroaches. These niggas that put 100 dollars on the blackjack table, come away with two dollars back in chips and think they won something. No, of course they haven't won...until now...time to cash in nigga and listen up!
Simply put, if you talking to a chick and you gassin' her up...YOU, my friend, are a Chevron nigga. You are contributing to a worldwide health hazard that has been frustrating real niggas like me and mines for far too long. This gas crisis has also initiated an ensuing chain reaction, the tail end of which finds us real niggas negatively affected by inflation. First, a Chevron nigga begins to pump up a chick with some of that 91 premium bullshit about how he's never seen a girl like her before and how he can't stop staring at her or he starts to spew that nonsense about her uncanny resemblance to *insert attractive celebrity here*. This in turn causes a permeation of a woman's diva cells in the lateral cortex of her brain which then causes a serotonin build up in the ahthinkumdashit region (DISCLAIMER: these scientific claims have not been evaluated by the American Neurology Council and therefore hold no viable merit). Self-perception is then immensely altered and real niggas are left to deal with the elevated levels of delusion that occur after her ego has been inflated.
With the coming of the computer age, we have suffered a sharp increase in gassing. The arrival of social networking sites such as MySpace and Facebook have ushered in a new era of Chevron niggas that take advantage of the now remote social interaction opportunities these sites provide for users. In this new era, face-to-face interaction is no longer required, leaving room for these two dollar niggas to up the ante in foolishness.
I've asked a few homegirls to hook me up with some Chevron nigga garbage from their inbox so that I may recycle it and put it to good use (Thanks ladies!!). For your entertainment (and to call out this one nigga who thought he was slick. You know who YOU are nigga!), here are some exhaust fumes...spelling and grammatical errors included...
Unleaded 87 -
"Hey whas up.thanks for addin me. How r u im good. I saw ur picture and i said damn she can get it. and ur status said single so u no I gotta holla. them lips are so sexy i wish i could be ur lip gloss haha.well get back at cha boy wen u can"
Unleaded Plus 89 -
"How you doin? I see that you havent added me yet on yo friend requests. I kno alot dudes be tryna get at u n what not so u prolly didnt get to mine yet. them dudes wont treat you like me so u should delete them lol im jk i dont kno if u got a lot of dude friends on facebook i mean. we should get to kno each other more. A little bout myself my name is *censored* i go to dominguez hills and im on the bball team #*censored*. u can come and see me pkay when we start. ok then im about to practice. HOLLA BACK"
Premium 91 (Chevron with THIRSTron) -
"Wassup witchu? Did you get my request to add? How you know mah boi Obi? He ain't never introduced me to you. You and him was choppin it up at *censored*'s party last friday and I was like damn she fine as hell. Then yesterday I was goin thru Obis friends cuz I was lookin for the homie and I seen you and I had to add you. Wassup wit u and Obi? Its coo if yall talkin and what not but make sure he treat you rite and if he not then you can holla at cha boi. In the mean time dont be a stranger get at me"
What else can I say? How do I get it through to you niggas? How do I make myself clear? Ladies, I know its not your fault when you have your big headed ego trip moments. I mean how could you not with all these two dollar niggas leakin out the side of they mouth. I've said enough. Get your worth up niggas!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Do you remember the D.A.R.E. program from elementary school? I remember that bullshit vividly. I don't know if they still have that program in effect and I'm not trying to knock it because honestly, keeping kids off drugs is a good thing and I totally understand that it is the intent of the program to make sure that this is a reality; however, having a fucking cop come into a South Central L.A. classroom full of children who are raised not to trust cops and having him try to tell them right from wrong is just not the way to go about it. I can recall those Thursdays when that jackass LAPD Officer Horton would come into our fifth grade classroom and glare at us as if we were already the drug-addicted criminals that he was trying to prevent us from becoming. Add to that the fact that most, if not all of us had immediate family members who had suffered at the hands of him and his buddies. How could we listen to a word this guy was saying after all that?
Here we are, years later, and I can say that all of us that were sitting in that classroom listening to his bullshit have all had our relationships with various drugs. Some have experimented and moved on and some have made drugs a part of their everyday life. Perhaps if someone with more credibility had came and spoke to us on those Thursdays, even the need to experiment would not have developed. The way I see it, drug addiction is a disorder that spawns from within the individual and the tendency is not universal. Its a problem that needs to be cut off at the head. We can prevent kids from experimenting but once addiction takes over, the magnitude of the issue becomes much greater. Officer Horton failed to prevent experimentation. Mission Failure. Period.
So where am I going with this? Well, I've always wanted to take a shit on D.A.R.E. and there was my golden opportunity. And of course, I want to bring up the issue of drugs. I have traversed into the world of drugs and luckily it was a relatively short trip. At no point did I find myself even the least bit addicted to anything I've come across (no thanks to D.A.R.E.). Unlike many of my classmates from grade school, I will never spend my last 20 dollars on drugs, I will never kill for drugs and I will never go into rehabilitation for drugs. Fortunately, I am impervious to that type of addiction, however, I am not impervious to other types of addiction and here is where I finally come to my point. My friends (word to John McCain)... I have suffered the effects of that pesky little drug we call love.
We all know the symptoms. Constant craving, inability to see life beyond it, change of appearance, alienation from others around you, and insurmountable money loss. Sound familiar? Love is a drug and a helluva drug it is (word to Rick James, bitch). It is a drug that no program can prepare you for. No washed up police officer can intervene on your behalf. Once you have succumbed to the effects of love you are in for a wild ride. For almost three years I was a love junkie, getting my fix everyday. Then...it came to an end.
I'm doing better now. Three weeks of rehab have set me straight and put a lot of things into perspective. I've got the right sponsors (y'all know who y'all are) and I've been taking the proper steps of recovery. Before I got off the drug I didn't see how I would go on without it but now I realize what a burden it was in my young life and how much better off I am without it.
This is for all those readers who have ever found themselves addicted to anything, drugs or otherwise. There is a way out...and it's closer than you think...
"No matter how far out on the sea of suffering we've sailed, all that is required is to turn toward awakening and no one can do that for us."-- Bonnie Myota Treace