#MNR: THE VAPORS

#MNR: THE VAPORS
 
 
“But they can’t do it how I do it. Copying Curren$y, that’s counterfeit and useless. And stupid.”
 
“To stand in front this money train doesn’t make sense. I never hustled with no lames, why would I begin?”
Curren$y
 
In 14 hundred and 92, Christopher Columbus – brought venereal disease to the new world. What? What you thought I was going to say? And if you take I for joke, go on YouTube.
 
All jokes aside, have y’all heard about the nigga on Beyonce and Taylor Swift’s internet walking around with 3 STDs (one, two, three of them MF), openly promoting the fact that he’s “still fucking bitches” on Instagram Live as he strolls through the club? He is not only unabashed, but he also fancies himself as a figure of atonement, a catalyst for accountability. As expected, he comes off as an ignorant troglodyte, refusing to go to the doctor and get his shit checked. He says he plans to naturally cure himself through diet and self-affirmation. Yes, Niggarachi. Both are available by prescription at the local pharmacy. Smmfh. What in the Dr. Sebi (respectfully)? He also claims that he’s not suffering from “the big one” and knows who infected him. If you reside in the great state of Texas (specifically DFW), be careful. Everybody is a suspect.
 
I swear these stories write themselves...
 
I wasn’t even fishing. I simply went on the Twitter earlier for my daily six minutes of fuckery (I am a former Twitter addict) and the first thing I see is this nigga Gucci Third Leg (yeah, I know) is spreading the herpes simplex virus like Nazi propaganda in Germany in 1938. I didn’t know who this disease-spreading derelict was until today, although I’ve seen his face on the internet in passing. Apparently, he’s a porn actor who makes his own content with Only Fans models, aka [CENSORED]. He brags about having slept with three thousand women (that’s a lot of counting fingers and toes) and has been spreading the herpes since Covid travel bans were lifted (2021). The word on the social medias is that he’s bodied a lot of women that internet celebrities break their necks to fuck. As a journalist I do not spread hearsay, but if you go online you’ll see more than a few celebrity/influencer names caught in this disgusting web, both women and men. It appears we have a superspreader in the building. I’m not his doctor nor have I gone boogemz  in any of the women he’s allegedly infected, so I can’t confirm or deny this report. But when there are women on the social medias claiming that after fucking old boy they are infected with the simplex, it’s possibly in the Top Five of the safest bets in the history of betting. Be careful. There are all types of nasty work outside in 2024.
 
Can you feel it? Nothing can save you. Cause this is the season of catching the vapors. I know. I’m the one always talking about keeping it real and always staying loyal to the hood. Yup. That’s what I said. But as soon as they cut the check – I’m gone (Uncle Elroy voice)! I don’t owe not nayah nigga a MF thing. I’m throwing the Tyreek Hill peace sign while I enter the suicide door (I hate that name) of my four wheeled spaceship like that pimp in the old Vine reel. A nigga is going to have to hate on me from three time zones away. Go on ‘head. But make sure you tell your mama and auntie I said hi.
 
I’m not much for coincidence. I believe that it’s all a part of a well-crafted work of tapestry. Earlier today, Ju, Janay, Jorge, Aary and I were in the classroom vibing, chit chatting and listening to music. I played my favorite Ursher (Usher) song, which happens to be “Think of You.” I said that this was the first song of his I’d ever heard. I remembered that he was like 14-15 and that we must be close in age. Ju thought he might’ve had me by a year or two. I too thought that he was older, but only by a cuticle. Surprise, surprise. I went on Wikipedia to check his birth date. He is [in fact] a month and four days younger than me, born 10.14.2024. Today is his 46th earth day. How ironic. Many blessings, Ursh Raymond. It’s your born day, so I’m going to keep it positive. But there are a few questions that I have...
 
“On My Mama” by Victoria Monét is now over a year old. I haven’t heard a better R&B song in that time. I’ve heard more than a few good songs since it was released, but I can argue that none can fuck with “OMM.” It’s the bass guitar for me. And the trumpet. And Victoria got super busy. I guess it was imperative, but her putting Mama in the video touched my soul. I also loved the shot with Mama, Victoria, and lil bit. Three generations of Black excellence.
 
All I need? You know just I want, so do it.
 
A hero ain’t nothing but a sammich. I told you try-hards last week that all that knight in shining armor bullshit is taxing on your health insurance. Look, I respect a man taking up for a female stranger in public – if the situation involves a man that isn’t her man (I stay out of stranger domestic disputes for my own safety). But when it’s two women in disagreement, both of whom are strangers to one another AND you, stay your caping ass the fuck up out of their beef if your aim is anything more than being a peaceful arbitrator. You’ve got to be a damn fool to choose a side after a ten second assessment. Mind your damn business. It promotes good health.
 
It ain’t what you wear, it's what you drive. It ain’t what you drive, it's where you park. It ain’t where you park, it's where you live. It ain’t where you live it’s how you die. It’s either how you died or who you killed.
 
I can’t explain why We do some of the things we do. I know that some things are rooted in tradition while other things are used/implemented to mask or stifle pain and trauma. I never drank lean, which is a mixture of codeine, promethazine and sweet, sugary drinks like Fanta, Faygo, or even Kool-Aid. I was introduced to the term and DJ Screw mixtapes my freshman year of university when I met and befriended my brother Mel Patterson (RIP Pop Patterson). Screw (RIP) was the first known DJ to chop and slow songs down. It went right along with sippin’ drank. Lean slows you down. I’ve seen niggas literally leaned to the side, suspended in time. It inspires driving your slabs extra slow through the city. The double cups keep the ice from melting. Lean is said to have killed several known H-Town artists, from Screw to Fat Pat to Pimp C. I have my own theories, but I’m no doctor. I know outsiders wonder why in the fuck would anyone drink prescription cough syrup mixed with soda. I often reflect on what Bun B. said at the end of “Purple Rain” (Beanie Sigel’s version). The song (of course) is about pourin’ up. Bun’s verse is about the first time he drank lean. Screw put him on. He was extra faded, as stated in his bars. But the end is what captured my imagination, when he saluted all of his fallen palz who “poured up real big when they was here.” How in the duality of self can we affectionately praise the very thing that is the reason our friends are in the essence? Like I said, I have no answer. I suppose Mr. Cheeks said it best at the end of “Renee.” I’m from the ghetto, so yo, this is how I shed my tears.
 
Thank you all for stopping by and supporting the movement. You are all loved and appreciated. I’m a see you when I see you, unless you see me first. Au revoir.