#MNR: E PLURIBUS UNUM

#MNR: E PLURIBUS UNUM
 
“See, if you believe – that you and me can change the world someday, then believe me when I say. I still love you.”
702
 
“I’d like to greet the sun each morning. And walk amongst the stars at night.”
Lionel Richie
 
“The Wally’s match the shirlon, the talk matches the aura. I’m still mourning losing Meek, I’m a liquor pourer.”
@tymonday
 
Let’s get straight to the meat and potatoes.
 
I have the same amount of empathy for tRump that I had as a teen for George Wallace when I learned about his assassination attempt. I’m not speaking from a place of hatred or ignorance; I’m merely being candid. If anything, I’m glad Cheesy didn’t get bodied. The last American I want to enter martyrdom is Donald J. Chump. It would all but usher in the American Civil War, Chapter II. Fat ass has about 23-35% of the country convinced that he's everything other than a lying, cheating, ugly, lying, stinky (Jaela voice), cheating, fraudulent, rapey, vile, lying, cheating piece of devil shit. My cousin DJ Green, in typical coon fashion, contends that all the sane Black folk who would flush tRump along with his kind down a shitty Port Authority toilet bowl are brainwashed. The nerve of you. You have convinced yourself that your intellect is something it isn’t. Nigga, sit your rich ass down somewhere and keep making those 82 MAGAt-exclusive Instagram posts everyday like you’ve been doing. You talking loud, fast, and in a high pitched voice does not make you believable or convincing. Let’s get a couple of colonizers to sponsor this debate so we can both get a bag, and I can wipe the floor with your red cap wearing ass. MAGAt versus the Centrist, First Cousin Edition. And I talk how I talk cuz in real life I’d [CENSORED]. I love you nigga. Don’t crash out behind this pissy, diaper wearing bumbaclot.
 
 
Democrats, you collectively are truly softer than baby shit. One round happens to pierce that fat ass devil’s ear and now it's time for kumbaya. Shut the fuck up. Republicans have no concern for life, especially when it comes to liberals or anyone on the color wheel. I’m lying? Ok. I brought receipts. Remember a couple years ago (10.28.2022) when Rep. and former Speaker Nancy Pelosi’s husband was brutally attacked after a psychopath broke into their abode and did him extra dirty? Do you remember any type of olive branches being extended? Do you remember any kind words of empathy for that lady’s MF husband? That’s her husband, got damn it. Fuck a political party. That woman deserved all the best in that moment. Do y’all remember any love being sent her way? No. No, the fuck you don’t. What you remember is the MAGAt world talking all types of crazy, including everything from it was a staged attack to [Paul] Pelosi being an undercover chuck and it being an attack wielded by a jaded lover. There was zero empathy or compassion. But now you libs want to sing “We Are the World” and shit while the cheesy fat ass and his sycophants laugh incessantly and move into kill mode. Democrats (as a single body) are soft and stupid. If that fat ass autocrat returns to office to officially kill America as we know it, it’s your fault. You jive turkeys stay bringing chalk to pistol fights. Lame ass niggas (Desi Banks voice – Black Air Force Ones IYKYK).
 
P.S. I called it. I knew fat ass was going to pick J.D. Vance. James David, I remember when you talked greasy about Channel Orange, back when you rocked a clean shaven and still had huevos. Do you remember when you compared fatty to Hitler? Remember? He was an “idiot” and “reprehensible.” Your words, not mine, although my words too are a bit acerbic. But you managed to dick eat and found your way far enough up tRump’s ass to tickle his prostate and secure the vice-presidential nod. Good work, you Ohio street walking hooker. I bet you could suck a quarter through a Capri Sun straw, you whore, you.
 
Ok. I’m done with politics. Pardon the cold intro, but It was a natural lead. Now, time for the fuckery.
 
First things first. Let me light my motherfucking J in this bitch and get in my zone. I’ve been hustling hard all day (Alfonzo Hunter voice). It’s time to get loose. Can I talk my shit up in this bitch? Can I? Thank you, but it was a rhetorical question. I’m a talk my shit, how I’m supposed to.
 
Good evening, America. How y’all? It’s your main man Ty Monday, no relation to Rick. Is it hot enough for y’all? It was so hot, I sang a Negro spiritual on my way to get lunch at the foo yum spot. I was humming with the baritone, Paul Robeson voice and wiping sweat from my brow like I had just finished picking my 28th bushel of cotton for the day. Harriet done left the night befo’. It’s sho nuff time for us to find some AC! It was so hot, I almost started crying like Cuba Gooding Jr did in that scene in Boyz In the Hood. Shit, I damn sure would’ve boo hooed if it would’ve gotten me the pussy like Cuba did. And not just any vagina – Nia Long’s vagina. Lawd, hammercy...
 
Sometimes I sit back with a hunnit sack. My mind is in another world, the glass is half full, but it fell and cracked. Get the gorilla glue, too late, the water spilt. By the time I was 25, I could name six or seven killed. I’m from a different ilk. The way I put words together, cooler than Herc or Keith in a Pelle leather. The Wally’s match the shearling, the talk matches the aura. I’m still mourning losing Meek, I’m a liquor pourer.
 
You remember Pinky. He used to be a player.
 
RIP to the last dirty cheeba spot on the filthy side of Chelsea (8th Ave, Port Authority to below the Garden). In true New York City weed spot lore, you reopened after recently being shut down by the pigs. Whenever I think of the true essence of New York City, I am immediately taken to memories of all the dirty reefa spots from my era, mid-90s through to motherfucking day. Do you MF know how many times the cheeba spot on [1]12th and 2nd Avenue got knocked, shut down, and reopened? Oh, y’all actually don’t? Damn. I was hoping at least one of you MF did, cuz I damn sure don’t know. All I can say is plenty of MF times. Next thing you know, word got around the Ps that it was active again. Then, low and behold, you slid your Alexander Hamilton under the door, and two limousine bags magically appeared. Wala! Sadly, those days are again gone (for now). There was way too much tax money being lost with the dirty shops. I get it. Mayor Teef Adams dem need all their ones. They have to put the migrants (who illegally crossed the border) up and feed them. And Teef needs his new tailored designer suits and alligator shoes. Do you know what I really loved about the dirty cheeba spots?  Every last one of those bitches accepted Apple Pay. I don’t always have cash on deck to pay rapper prices at the dispensary. Luckily, I’ve been smoking reefa since just after Bill Clinton admitted he did in college. Ok, a couple of years after. Anyway, I know the dread personally. And I have a guy who gets it shipped in by the metric ton. I’m good. But I’m the type of stoner who buys weed when he already has plenty of weed. Hey...it might be one of those weekends. A bruva might need a lil extra, you heard? Anyway, RIP to them niggas. It was a good run, I suppose. Hopefully, after election season, a crop of new/old dirty spots pop up, just in time for the holidays. Hoe, hoe, hoe!
 
Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck.
 
Keep your head up, CEO. We got this. I’m heavily god-ed.