Peter Parker picked peppers, and Run solved crimes. Humpty Hump fell down, and Tupac died.

Basically, what I’m saying is…everybody has a “thing.” Not necessarily a talent, but a “thing.” Some type of distinguishing quirk that is you, and only you. Its your thing. Do what you wanna do. I cant tell you who to sock it to.

Por ejemplo:

“Yo, you know Jimmy?”

“Nah, yo,  I don’t know no Jimmy!”

“C’mon, son! You know Jimmy! Jimmy from the block that do the robot every time we go to Subway!?”

“OOOOooOOOOooh! THAT Jimmy!”

See. A “thing.”

Mine is extrapolating racism. I’m like the Dr. House of this Whites Only Pies sh*t. And being that I’m such an astute diagnostician of discriminatory actions, my friends will often refer to me when they need assistance in determining whether or not something is ostensibly racist. Mostly my white friends. My black friends know what time it is when they get racisted on. Most of’em anyway. Some of’em still be on that Tia and Tamara sh*t.

Moving on…read this:

This was sent to me by a friend, who asked, “Was that racist?” 

So, I took it back to the lab, analyzed it,  threw some d’s on that b*tch,  and did alladat other scientific methodist crap. Ultimately, what I arrived at, was no, this is NOT racist. It’s piss-poor target marketing.

Lemme ‘splain

The company responsible for this colloquial travesty is Lexington Law. I know that because I called the number. #ScientificMethodist.

We’ll assume it was done by an intern. We’ll call the intern “Taylor.” That’s a good take a semester off and backpack though Europe, unisex name. So, Taylor, in hopes of infiltrating the urban market attempted to  adopt a slang representative of such. Problem is, aside from owning a Bob Marley t-shirt and knowing all the words to Fresh Prince of Bel Airs theme song…Taylor don’t nann n*gga. Nor does he/she know the taxonomy thereof. So Taylor has no idea how to speak to whom. He/she wants to reach Jamal Kadeem Huxtable, while talking to Flocka Mane Williams.

How do I know Taylor’s talking to Jamal? I’m glad you asst me dat. Jamal represents the everyday, bad credit havin’ a** mooncricket who fell behind on student loans…and compounded with the cost of hospitalization due to a basketball injury, he became overwhelmed and fell victim to fiscal sadface. Lamenting his budgetary backset, he actively wants to restore his credit to good standing because he knows it’ll make his mama proud.  Meanwhile, Flocka Mane is in the streets making Shmorldstarshmipshmop videos and gettin fat white b*tches pregnant husslin’. He don’t give a sh*t about his credit, cause he aint ufckin with banks. All shoebox everything.

That aside, let’s take an expository look at Taylors attempt and see why else it fails to connect:

A.) Taylor, n*ggas ain’t ufckin with myspace no more. Rappers, maybe. But they tend to fall into the Flocka Mane phylum.  B.) Your euphemisms for  “sh*t” are inconsistent, as well as incongruent. The same n*gga that says “ish” ain’t sayin’ “sheet” or “shyt.”  C.) What n*gga you know is checkin’ for a Camaro!? Let alone, scrambling the innanets looking for Lexington Law to rectify his financial situation solely to attain one? I’ll wait. D.) Spelling out the first number  in a phone number? Wheredeydodatat? E.) Lastly, “Yall” is one word. I know…you were under the impression it was the conjugation of “you” and “all.”   It’s an honest mistake. But ufck the dumb sheet. The word is “Yall.” It’s in the dictionary. Like Bootylicious.

Taylor, look at me. I’m fresh thenna muhfuggah. I dont think you’re a racist, I just think you’re horrible at your job (but your employers are DEFINITELY racist for not hiring Black people). Anyway, I really want you to climb the ladder over there at Lexington Law, so yahmo give you the appropriate versions of your monolithically incoherent missive. As told by Jamal, and Flocka.

Jamal:

Hell yeah, nigga! It’s ’bout time….I FINALLY got all’em bill collectors off my ass! I was broke as ish for ’bout fo’-fi’ years! F’rills yo, I had to cop the new J’s a week AFTER they dropped!  I’m good now tho. Just got that 10k loan, so Im’a go see whats up with that Scion TC with the Zeus bolts on it.  Son, handle yo’ ish quick and we can both get one! Just call 877-667-4052. Three months and $44 later, that ish was deaded, son! Swag!  You know my boy Hammer, right? He was doin hella bad too, and I think he finally got a one bedroom spot out in Oakland next to V-nasty. Holla.” 

Flocka:

“THAS DA PHUK IM TAUMBOUT! MY SHIT GOWNE, NIGGA! DEM BOYS HAD ME PHUKKD UP FOR 5 YEARS, BRUH CUH. A NIGGA WONT PHUKKN WIT SHIT! DEM NIGGAS AT LESSINTON GOT ME DAT 5 G’s LOAN, AN YA BOI BOUTSTA PHUK WIT DAT MAYBACH!!! I’ONT NO WHUT DA PHUCK TYPE  FUCKSHIT YOU ON, BUT GET LIKE ME CUH! HOLLA AT DEES NIGGAS MY NIG. 87776674052. SHEEEEIT, THEY HAD MY SHIT RIGHT BY THE TIME I GOT OUT, BRUH! MY NIGGA ROUND THE WAY GOT HIS TO!! THAT NIGGA BOUT TO START A RECORD LABEL!!!!!!! LEH’DOIT CUH.!!!!!!!!!!!!WE OUTCHEA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

You’re welcome.

BOK!

 

 

 

 

 

2 comments

September 14th, 2011

I almost spit this fine Evian water out all over these leather bound books and mahogany shelves. You’re a funny dude.

September 14th, 2011

Every blog I read, I learn a new word…thanks Jamal

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