Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Mr. Mulato's List Part 2 (Don't be Mad)

After yesterday's post I was inundated with emails from friends who simply wanted to tell me that they enjoyed my selective sharing of cross cultural secrets. Others, however, informed me that they used my blog "Mr. Mulatto's List of White Things Black People Should Try" as an attempt to authenticate how "black" or "white" they themselves actually were. While I do not condone or condemn this practice, (as I myself find it quite f**king hilarious), I would simply like to say that this was not the intent of the post. I can wholeheartedly say that I am not one to pigeonhole individuals and stereotype them as acting 'black' or acting 'white' (if there is such a thing), however, I'll be damned if anyone were to disagree with the notion that blacks and whites do things very, very differently.

As a mulatto male, navigating the muddy waters of negro and Caucasian-ness better than Michael Jackson himself, I believe that I myself am better qualified than anyone to discuss this topic both freely and honestly. Yes, I've been called a few 'not-so-nice names' due to my own blurring of racial boundaries and desire to surround myself with an eclectic bunch, but in the end these harsh words only serve to show the ignorance of those from which the spew. I was called an Uncle Tom once and labeled a so called 'Oreo,' my reply to which was simply the following statement: "my uncle is doing life for murder...I'm from the hood son...and in terms of being an Oreo, I'm sure your girl will be more than happy to dunk me in her Lactaid... Bi*tch."

This being said, I once again summon the power of my inner Othello and present to you, the second half of a most interesting post...

Mr. Mulatto's List of Black Things White People Should Try

5. Matinees
I know for a fact that white people go to the movies. I see white people at the movies a lot. One thing I cannot decipher, for the life of me, is why they simply insist on paying full price. While matinees usually run you about half the price of a regular ticket, the hours during which one may see the show are usually a bit earlier. Now...If white people were all flocking to the movies at 11:00 pm then maybe it would make sense for them to say, f**k saving money, I'm attending the movies "on my own time"; this, however, is not the case. White people don't even go to the movies late at night because they're scared that we black people will be there causing trouble, a fact which is only half true (LOL.) If the matinee show starts at 11:00, white people tend to show up for the 1:00 show...strange...Whether this is Caucasians' own valiant attempt to help stimulate the economy, or merely a ploy to avoid the negro-fest which is a matinee (complete with home cooked contraband snuck inside of counterfeit Chanel purses), the world may never know. Either way, White America listen up! There's no excuse for not saving money...yall n***as still owe us for reparations. LMAO.

4. Spades
Honestly, is it really a surprise that black folks have becomes the masters of games which require no batteries and or fancy equipment? In the same way that we excelled in sports which required little equipment (i.e Basketball and Track), and sucked at sports which required expensive gear (such as Hockey), African-Americans (God I hate that word), have become masters of improvisation and low maintenance pastimes. Whether kickin it with your homies, or killing time with your celly in the bing (your cell mate in jail), spades is the sh*t. While many people play with different variations, the basic rules are translatable from coast to coast. Maybe we like spades because they're black (unlike hearts or diamonds), or maybe just because Its a game created by ancient ni**as in Africa who used to play with carved tree bark. OK, I made that up. What the f**k ever. Spades is a wonderful game people. There are no pieces to get lost, like in Monopoly or Jenga, and nine times out of ten, someone has a deck of cards handy. Next to C-Lo, (a complicated hood dice game which I will explain in another post) spades is the most defining characteristic of an urban summer. Turn up your DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince CD and bring your spades skills to the picnic...who knows....you may even pull a nappy headed hoe.

3. Pork Rinds
The Hood Prosciutto. Enough said. Howard's pork rinds (the hard kind, not the soft chicharonnes) are like small, crunchy pieces of heaven which marinate in your mouth (no homo) before sending more good vibrations through your body than Marky Mark Walberg (no homo again.) Available in barbecue, salt and vinegar and the hood favorite Chilli Lime, these snacks are sure to satiate your appetite and placate your taste buds. Actually, part of the reason pork rinds are so fulfilling is that they are so hard, that you eventually get tired of chewing and don't want to eat anymore. True story. All I can say is that you cannot knock pork rinds until you try them, and this advice is coming form a ni**a who will not eat pig's feet or any of that southern coon soul food, give me a heart attack and diabetes, Big Momma's house bullsh*t. Trust me baby, I'm a mulatto.
2. Wash Cloths
LMAO. I have lived with, eaten with and even slept with white people and I still do not have an answer to the question of why they will not use wash cloths...I mean really...It is not OK to have Pubes on your soap, or to let other people wash their hands with a bar of Oil of Olay that has graced the presence of your inner ass. I guess, in their defense, this is why white people always have fancy antibacterial hand soap on their counters. Nevertheless, I urge you to come into the light and just give it a try. Wash cloths help you exfoliate, not to mention scrub off dirt. You can wipe the coal out your eyes, erase the toothpaste crust from your mouth and even help to soothe mosquito bites with alcohol or witch hazel, all using this small, simple magical cloth. They are not expensive nor are they hard to acquire or maintain...I just don't get it... Yall mutha f**kas have no problems buying Shamwows. LOL. Get a washcloth. Or at the very least, buy an extra shamwow to wash your self, you nasty...

1. Thick White GirlsOwwwwww. See this one I understand completely. While at first I was led to believe that white men were all gay, passing on the Kim Kardasians for the Mary Kate Olsens, I soon developed a theory about why these varying tastes in women came to exist. Not only are white boys afraid that they may come up 'inadequate,' and not able to handle all that 'junk in the trunk,' they also fear that by engaging in copulatory behavior with these ethnically curvy white women, they may actually begin to like black girls! Ahhhhhhhhh!!! LOL. It's ok to laugh, its funny...and besides, I'm a mulatto so its OK. Whatever the reason for this phenomenon, I urge my Caucasian brothers to partake in the bounty which is booty. In the words of that punk ass, b**ch ass, flabby bodied, non-rapping bum Ludacris, there is a new phenomenon..."white women with ass." Owwwwwwwwwwwwwww (Max B. Voice. Google Him).
White people don't be mad, because the black people weren't mad yesterday. I love you, your women and their sweet white nectar. LOL. As a matter of fact I love all women, all races, all colors and all creeds. Learning the different habits and customs of different races only serves to make me us better individuals and add more sazon and Adobo into the mixing pot which is America.

Live, Love, Turing my Blogging Swag on


1 comment:

MW said...

Various remarks, in no particular order:

3) I think white people loofah, with body wash. Something about a washcloth grosses me out. And they aren't as powerful and tough as Shamwows when we need to clean up all that whore's blood. ShamPOW!(punched another hooker)

9) White people play "sophisticated" card games like Pinochle, Euchre, and Fifty-Two Pick-Up. I'm not sure why Spades doesn't catch on, as it is related to that perhaps Whitest-Of-All card game Bridge (so says Wikipedia!).

1.5) White people need to have at least two mimosas (mimosæ?) at brunch before we can stomach anything playing at a matinée. We also have to be seen among with evening crowd at the newest Gus Van Sant or Michael Moore head-up-his-ass wank-piece so we can talk loudly afterwards as we exit the theater about how powerful it was. That's something black people shouldn't try: an inflated sense of cultural entitlement.

4a) And you know my feelings on thick girls! But there's a world of difference between a fat ass booty and a sloppy cheesesteak gut, and many (white) girls can't seem to navigate between those, in my humble opinion. Thighmaster, anyone? Sheesh!

Keep up the spot-on cultural analyses, Super-★.