(Monday Night Fuckery)
As I sit here and scratch my fat belly with my tatts and chestplate out, I only wish that you could float with me to a land far beyond, where ashy legs and $2 shorts on a bag of aromatics are acceptable at all times. I’m talmbout a place where real niggas don’t have a concern the first about taking a shit in a public toilet, simply because they gotta go, smell me? Ahh, yes, the aroma of pure fuckery. Like serendipitous sex in your friend’s bathroom with someone you had your eyes on the whole MF night, and after you personally twisted like four Ls of dour and took shots from the ever flowing fountain of Hennessy, she followed you into the lavatory for drunken love (never to be mistaken for drunk in love). Basically, what I’m expressing to you good people (and fuckers alike) is that this train has no set destination, yet the ride promises to be project Kool Aid sweet. Buckle up. Matter fact, fuck it. Keep the belts off. Just ride.
“You and Diddy, y’all kill me with that subliminal shit…” Fox Boogie Brown w/CNN, “Bang, Bang”
Foxy said it best, so I’m just gon add on from where she left off. Ion do the sneak dissing shit. Either I’m gonna say your name like Bey, Kelly or Latoya dem, or I’m gonna @ you. I can’t stand that sneak diss shit. It’s the ultimate pussy way in and out of drama. You not trill enough to just state your beef on the straight up. Instead, you throw your little jabs here and there when you think and hope no one’s looking, while at the same time you hope someone’s looking. Then it’s like, “Wow. So and so said so and so about so and so.” But when it gets back to so and so, it’s quiet for you. You type MF deserve to get beat in your ass. Just state your problems with the nigga (whomever he/she is) if it’s an issue. Sure, that nigga might beat five shades of black off your monkey ass, but hey, at least you stepped to your issue. But don’t take the coward’s way out. It’s too many of y’all doing it every day, verbally in the streets and on the blogs. Y’all ain’t low. Don’t be the next victim on that iPhone video camera 4th Ward/Uptown/VA/World Star/wherever ass whooping. Because an ignorant nigga like me will bring it up whenever I get tired of you being in my vicinity or I feel like instigating my own smack the shit outta you “misunderstanding.” Kiss my ass, you, you bitch.
How in the world can a nigga be actively tracking you down to bless you with your just due for your contributions to a team cause, but whenever the nigga sees you, you duck him in the streets like that kid who owed Calogero (yes, bitch, I spelled it right, I research) that $20 in A Bronx Tale? Are you the nigga whose name is on the paperwork of an indictment on a nigga? Did you roll over the nigga grandma’s left pinky toe with the Civil Rights struggle corn on it with your shopping cart in Shop Rite? Did you steal the nigga’s J-Kwon tape in third grade? We don’t get it. But, we’re absolutely sure that as soon as we blow global you gon be in the front of the begging and pleading line, hands out looking like cups as the great, late Robin Harris used to say. And the part that kills us is you’re gonna legally be in the right. I hope you get hit by an Italian icee cart this summer and fall off a cliff. I’m just kidding. But I do hope there’s a way to low ball you when the paper starts to stack. It’s the American way. You sommamabitch.
Just for the record, if you fuck with me and you already got a nigga, Ion have a MF problem with it, at all. What it is, simple and plain, is that you have two niggas. So let that nigga know about your status change on Facebook. We can all go out to eat, you, me, and your other nigga, granted he pays. That’s drinks, appetizers, and the main course. And the cab ride home. Ion e’en want you on the weekends. I’m straight with Tuesday through Thursday. Let that nigga take you to see the new Tyler Perry movie and the other black movie that always comes out ‘round ‘bout Christmas time. Thanks.
Apparently, a man taking a selfie is now considered to be homosexual in popular culture (not that I have a problem with homosexuals, I don’t, I’m just not a member of that club). That kinda puts me in a tough position. I like me. I think I’m a photogenic individual, granted there is sufficient natural light or flash, I’ve got a fresh hairline, and my shirt isn’t tucked under my stomach in a fashion that makes me look like someone’s drunk uncle who recently gave up on life and giving a fuck in general. Most importantly, Ion have a personal photographer on deck like Joe Budden, and I’m not comfortable with getting random people to take a pic of me (or touch my phone…I know where my hands go, I can only imagine where their hands go). But, you new school, homophobic yet possibly homosexual (not that there’s anything wrong with that) niggas out there act like someone just his put Newport out on your Muslim prayer rug. Peace, god. Or just unfollow me on the IG. You new school niggas are just too hard. Yet, snitching is at an all-time high. Go figure.
Follow me on the Twitter @tymonday, where it’s a 24 hour roller coaster of a blog, where these thoughts come out at random and without warning. Also follow my squadron @crewunB. While you’re on the site, pick up some fly attire. We’ve got plenty of a la carte flavors to choose from. If you haven’t already, pick up three copies of my classic 100 Blocks Stories on amazon.com. Send any love/hate mail to firstname.lastname@example.org. If you like what you’ve been reading, tell a friend. Then tell them to tell a friend. It’s my time, y’all. Peace.