Random guess – you are one of those hip hop freaks who thinks the title of this post is in some way a reference to the (terrible) lyrics of a certain black guy whose fashionsense is limited to tattoos, tank tops and boxers, right?
No?
Okay, go back to
bed.
A female dog
(c’mon don’t make me say the word) is notoriously known for not knowing which
one is the “dog father” of its puppies. It is only natural to infer that a girl
who sleeps around a lot should be called that. So if someone calls you a bitch,
find it in your heart to smile.
Because humans stopped giving a crap about the dictionary a decade ago – thanks to the escalation of Lil Wayne’s career.
See, when I’m listening to Lil Wayne’s music, I try to rummage through the thick cobwebs of heavy bass beats, insane lyrics, incessant screaming, gun shots and sex sounds generally characterized by poorly adjusted auto tunes to find anything that makes even a little bit of sense. I can be there nodding my head vigorously like a gecko, second guessing what he’s about to say until I get the lyrics straight.
This is considered cool in some circles although I must admit; most times I end up sounding like constipation.
So at some point in some song he says, “…and they say time flies, well mine is first class!”
I went like, “yep! I think we’ve got one! Time flies! That makes a whole lot of sense. I – I don’t really care for the first class bit of it, Lil Weezy just spat (that’s how they call it) some real shizzz!”
I turned down the volume and realized, time really does fly. I’ve watched my baby sister grow up. She’s now sixteen and going through all these changes. She now wants to sit perched sideways on that boda-b like older girls. Even when mum and I can clearly see that she’s struggling to strike the balance between looking hip and not falling off the thing.
To mess with her I said, “That’s nothing. Babes from UCU sit sideways and then cross their legs to show off their very smooth thighs. I bet if you can try that!”
And she did.
The other day, I escorted her to see the dentist. I realized she was getting a lot of stares from the fellas. From general street juveniles to full grown ass men, every dude was checking her out – y’know, throwing her lustful looks. All this of course got me a little upset. When some toothless old man smiled at her I was about to go loco on the Nigga like,
“Ay, that’s my
litto sister you fuckin fossil! You should be checking out her Granma – she’s
still kinda hot – also kinda dead. I could send you to the afterlife so you can
introduce y’self. Granpa should be in there somewhere so you’ll be all good.”
But I looked at her and saw how composed she was. It was like she was totally used to the drill. She flicked her hair sideways from time to time, swung her hips a little excessively, bit her lip every now and then and all I’m thinking is,
“Oh my God, my baby sis is probably stuck somewhere inside this woman.”
I can see how excited she is when her phone rings…then the disappointment on her face when she realizes it is just her girlfriend next door beeping. Lately, she is less inclined to listen to instructions and prefers to first eye ball someone before doing whatever she’s supposed to do. I pity mum in all this.
How do you keep her in check while at the same time making sure she’s able to spread her wings and fly?
It all makes me wish I’d go back and make life easier on my mum because it must have been hard raising me up too. I never listened to her much and therefore didn’t turn out quite right. This is rooted in the fact most of my tight friends are perpetual smokers, dedicated drunkards and serial womanizers.
Their careers are either “Sports Betting” or “Upcoming Artist.”
There’s this homeboy I know; we went to high school together and we were both at the top of our respective classes. We used to smoke weed every Friday night in the girls’ toilets – it was our thing. We called it “Friday Night Heights”. It felt so good being able to get high and get top grades. He liked to say we are the h!gh grade cartel. We felt invisible.
I met the guy and I’m real happy to see him. Like most of my childhood friends, he now speaks two languages; street vernacular and job interview. Of course we stroll for a joint – for old time’s sake so while we’re in the ghetto puff puffing and passing, I try to catch up with him;
Him: Aaaah man, nothing much…just beating a chill. You know how it is, pushing these blunts like a zib. Gwe, have you checked out the joints from *insert your drug dealer’s name*? Those things are ILLEGAL! The purest grade I ever smoked, where the fuck you been? I’ve been getting high on your sorry ass!
Me: The fuck you think? Of course I’ve done that guy’s Kush before. Shit is sick! Man, I’ve been at campus…getting high as a muff. I’m trying to chase this Engineering thing. Where you at?
Him: Hahaha…dude, I chall out (past of chill out) on that shule ruckus. That’s some Babylon crap right there. Here, get this weed and put some sticky icky in that brain. That’s all you need.
Me: You sick son-of-a-bitch…so you’re just smoking blunts because that’s all you need? That’s real tight man.
Him: Yep, that’s basically what I do these days.
Me: So you’ve got no job? Where’s the cheddar for the reefer jetting from?
Him: I told you, you’re pershing on the job. I’m making sick dime and you’re just there masturbating through your misery.
Me: I’m all ears you needle – d*cked moffo.
Him: I met some dude who threw me some sick plan. Have you heard of Potassium Permanganate?
Me: I hated Chemistry…still do.
Him: Now, Potassium Permanganate can melt shit.
Me: What?
Him: It can melt shit. Like human shit – faeces. Okay, it doesn’t melt. Decompose is more like the word, right? Anyways you’re the English guy so I’m sure you get. Instead of someone hiring a cess pull to remove shit from pit latrines, I can show up with my formula and bang! The stuff vanishes in a move!
Me: What the –? Know what, I won’t even dignify that with an answer.
Him: - I’m telling you, that thing is legit! It is going to get me mad loot (er, a lot of money).
Me: So this Potassium thing…it has no side effects? Like it doesn’t react with the shit and give off some hazardous gas or something? You’re the Chemistry guy…don’t you think it’ll kill the maggots? Maggots are good for latrines, you know that right?
Him: *thinks* Okay, the thing is…this whole thing is a scam. That’s the truth. But you believed it for a moment, didn’t you? Not many people are as sharp as you are and no one will figure out that maggot theory. I am going to spin (con) people, get sick paper and fly to the States, just wait!
This is my longest post yet…but the share button still works just right. Keep sharing and thank you very much for reading!
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