What up family? I'm kinda running late for work right now, but f**k it...All's fair in love and prose. I guess I really gotta quit the weekday Yackery (drinking) if I want to be successful in life. Yea right.
Anyways, there was no O.J. the Juiceman Thuggin' going on for me last night as I missed the concert. Something about the fact that the two supposedly hottest rappers in the game (he and Gucci Mayne) are named after a woman's bag and America's favorite breakfast drink made me think....Isn't there a better way I can spend my 35 dollars? That being said I was productive (at least at doing productive nig*a shit), and successfully managed to finally cop a living room set (that costs less than my bracelet....smh), get drunk and cook dinner for Shanga and Lefleur. No homo. Paella was off the chain.
What's the point of your fuck*ing boring ass life story, might you ask? Well, its funny you should mention that chump. It was while eating dinner, that Shanga, Lefleur and I began recanting more hoodrat stories for that ass!! That's right...we're in the Hood like our big homie Buttahman (Shout outs to him, everybody in the V.I, and his new show Hood Fab on MTV2). And everybody knows what you find in the hood...Hoodrats. Oww Owwwww.
Showrocka Presents: Hoodrat Report Card Part 2.
Now yesterday I god a funny ass Gmail from a blog reader that I just had to chronicle for yall. I swear this is all true and my homie "The Pessimist" can verify. Trust me, you can trust him. he's a Pessimist!
As the Pessimist and his wingman S.Rogen leave their homecoming party, tipsy off that Cruzan and Brugal, they decide to give in to their liquor induced hunger and libido driven instincts. Thats right niggas and niggettes, they committed the cardinal sin of taking some hoodrats out to eat. SMH (Shaking my head.) Lord Forgive them, for they know not what they do. LOL.
The Pessimist: This food looks good. I know what I'm getting.
S.Rogen: Vibes, Vibes. It's about to go down.
Waiter: Do you ladies and gentleman know what you'll be having tonight? What you like something to start?
The Pessimist: I think we're just gonna order our entrees. I'll have the Mahi Mahi with mixed vegetables.
S.Rogen: I'll have the sirloin steak with potatoes please.
Waiter: And what would you ladies like for your main course?
Hoodrats: Oooooh yea. We will both have the Shrimp cocktail.
The Pessimist: "are you sure you don't want an entree?"[verbatim]
Hoodrats: "Shrimp sounds good." [Verbatim]
Here's how the rest of the story goes according to the pessimist:
"After beings served they ate their 3 shrimp in two minutes, and then stared at my fish until i finally gave in and passed my date the damn plate. They complained for a full hour about the size of their dinner portion, but I didn't have the heart to enlighten them as to what appetizers were all about."
Hoodrat Grade: D- (This is some of the dumbest hoodrat shit I've ever heard, which is perhaps the reason its so damn funny. Who thinks shrimp cocktail isn't an appetizer! Have you never eaten in an establishment without the prefix "Mc" or suffix "King"? Its OK, you can laugh. It's funny. Don't front people, I know I'm your guilty hood pleasure...Call me Showrocka aka Buffets to fat bitches.)
This one here is a bit shorter but nonetheless funny, and once again, involves the homie Buck Dinero. After meeting up with some hoe and text messaging back and forth she is down to come visit him for dinner, drinks and some late night bedroom thuggin (shouts to William H. for the "Thuggin" vernacular which I've been killing lately.) Enter the restaurant....and.....action!
Buck Dinero: I think I'll have the salmon with rice pilaf please...and a Blue Moon.
Hoodrat: And I'll have the Maine, Twin Split Lobster tails.
Buck Dinero: No the hell she wont!!
Waiter (Dumbfounded and shocked): Ummmmmm. I'll give you guys a minute and come back.
Hoodrat Grade: C-.( Ladies, even if you do plan on giving up the ass please don't order lobster on the first date. It's extremely hoodrat-ish. Yes, I'm aware Buck Dinero's response was even more hood, but it was hilarious so he gets a pass. Sorry. Double standard (this time...)
I know some of yall are saying damn, if that's a C- and the previous offense was a D-, then what the f**k is an F? I will explain...firsthand.
Upon going to an all you can eat buffet, which is undeniably hood in and of itself, I find myself stuffed after about plate # 2 and a half. At this time, I see my older, female cousin looking around as if someones looking for her.
Show: What are you looking for?
Cuzin T: Where's the manager?
Show: in the back.
Cuzin T: Cool. Ill be right back. I asked because they hate when you get the sccccrimps (shrimp.)
At this point I have now idea what type of hogwash Tom-thievery she is planning until she returns with a plate FULL of fried shrimp. She then proceeds to open up her purse, which is empty, but LINED WITH A GIANT ZIPLOCK BAG!!! Yes, Nigga. She dumped the whole plate in her purse and went for seconds!
Hoodrat Grade: F- and F**k anyone who says there's no such thing as an F-. ( F level hoodrat-dom is achieved when no matter how funny the act is, the overall embarrassment factor trumps the hilarity. This is a perfect example of such case. )
I know, I know...making fun of the hoodrat misfortunes of others is so juvenile, but it's my guilty pleasure. And If you don't like it (catch phrase time) you can swallow an entire tube of medical waste from Planned Parenthood. EWWWWWWW. OK, maybe that was taking it too far. Whatever. I'm almost late for work and have some Fantasy Football shit to do. I'll holla....Bitchesssssssssssss.
Live, Love, Other Peoples Hoodrat Misfortunes.