There’s one of the following in every hood. The cat who was called Baby Huey when he was a kid. Or the chick with the carrot legs known as Tiny. Or baby doll known as Muffin with the muffin top. Lemme stop, this ain’t the nicknames post.
Anyway, to get back in focus, real talk, the hood is teeming with fat bastards. Oodles of lard*sses who probably eat Oodles of Noodles…uncooked…dipped in Cheez Wiz…on a kaiser roll…with bacon…baked in! Same people that have the nerve to drink a diet soda with it like they’re doing something.
It’s a really weird rule of unalike attract, alike repel or whatever, kinda like how in planes you move the flaps up to go down and down to go up. Ghetto people who can barely afford to keep their fridge stocked somehow, someway tend not to miss too many meals because somehow food with more ingredients that’s bad for you is cheaper than food with less ingredients that’s good for you. And unlike their non-ghetto counterparts, ghetto people eat like it’s going out of style, and then park themselves in front of the tube to catch up on their stories or videos or bootleg movies or whatever.
Imbalanced lifestyles leaving the hood chock full of large and in charge ghetto people built like tanks. Water tanks. Septic tanks. Whatever tank it is, it’s a tank that doesn’t move much, because many ghetto people never met an exercise they liked. Which is how the diabetes clinics keep a good attendance…even on Christmas.
While we’re at it, ever notice also that a lot of ghetto girls that have nicknames and e-mail/Internet handles with words like “Sexy” or “Cute” in them are unequivocally fat? Can’t say they’re tryna convince themselves they’re attractive and desirable, because thirsty *ss ghetto dudes already have them convinced, gassin’ em up in Myspace comments and sh*t, having them think they can walk out the rest and to the club in their brand new kits from Torrid and Abundance with swagger enough to expect three free drinks plus appetizers. Their crew of four will dance in a circle (like they’re really beating dudes away with a stick that night) and take up the entire floor. Sloppy, morbidly obese chicks that in turn have the nerve to consider themselves “thick.”
Ghetto people get uber-fat as if being so damn big builds character. As if it’s the best protection. Yeah, it’s great protection…from getting laid. Oh, who am I kidding, Big Bertha still finds a way to crank out a bunch of babies…all of which she can feed from one teat as they treat her spread out areola like the round table King Arthur’s knights sat around.
They often try to explain it away with excuses like having thyroid problems or being “big-bone-ded.” When usually it never occurred to them that BBQ cheese puffs since 3 years old ain’t exactly the breakfast of champions.
Sorry, NBC, ghetto people are the biggest losers of a different kind.
There’s three types of holidays:
-the giftin’ kind (e.g. Chrismaboxihanukwanzakah AKA the whole month of December, Mother’s Day), where women and children always want some sh*t…
-the drinkin’ kind (NYE, St. Pats, Cinco de Mayo…really, all of them, but specifically those), the bar’s, club’s, liquor store’s, and freeloading female’s best friend, and…
-the grillin’ kind (could be the whole season of summer, but specifically Memorial Day weekend, July 4th weekend, and Labor Day weekend).
This is the type of holiday where there’s suddenly not a parking space in sight, mad kids you never met will be runnin’ around, and e’ybody feel like they can throw down. Swear they got the best ribs, the best carne asada, the best chicken, best brisket or brats or links.
Vegetarians, as you have probably figured out by now, ain’t welcome and the ghetto people who make up the bulk of the crowd will feel threatened by them and make remarks about how they can’t live without meat! So they’re up crap’s creek unless they’re interested in the potato salad with paprika and eggs and green onions and other random *ss ingredients (what in holy hell is a pimento?).
Anyway, all these foods you will take a plate of home, then forget all about as it goes bad inside your fridge…because you already know too many cooks spoil the pot(luck), but you gotta humor the sensitive bastards who made it lest you get made to feel feel guilty…
And of course you know what else is gonna happen when ghetto people get pepped up. That’s right, sweet babies, your ears will bear witness to the f*ckery known as a soundclash (clash being the key part of that term). Because there will be that DJ that doesn’t give a f*ck enough to have turntables as he opts for his dual CD player and a zip case full of bootlegs and burns of the same damn Tupac and reggaeton and oldies you can hear on a day heading home from work played with no kinda blends involved. That dude is also unequivocally over 35. And his opponent: that one cousin or boyfriend who swears his trunk rattlin’ *ss Chevy is bumpin’, so he just GOTS to have his door wide open as he wears Young Jeezy the f*ck out.
Oh, but there will be a wildcard, and that’s that dude that rides the wide *ss Harley with fringes on it. He’s sure to come rip snortin’ in the dance like he’s the absolute don playin’ Teddy Pendergrass or whatever super-lover artist was hot when he was younger.
Total noise pollution (which could get uglier if the karaoke starts) to add on to the air pollution of the burning flesh of the piggy piggy. Because the ghetto cookout just isn’t fine if the attendees can’t dine on swine. It’s a party, y’all, to which the 20-somethings will have blunts in rotation, the 13-year-old girls will bang out the stank dance of the month, and that one uncle the family suspiciously knows about is in the background grabbin’ his meat.
Ghetto people spend a lot of their days hating, fearing and/or complaining about police.
Now to keep it funky, there’s much grist for the mill of police hatred. A true blue ’bout it, ready-to-set-it police hater would have been a good friend to have in the 50s, when a lot of the police in many cities were racist white Southerners who gave police the reputation they have to this day. A reputation constantly worsened by modern incidents like that one that happened on New Year’s in Oakland, as well as Amadou Diallo and Sean Bell in New York, mishaps with the special needs kid and numerous shootings in Inglewood, the recent endings of chases in El Monte, CA and Birmingham, AL, and so many others, rightfully giving your friendly neighborhood police hater some ammo.
And these incidents need to be bravely challenged, exposed early and often. The police may police us, but we police them too. We give them power.
Generally, however, let’s face it. Your average police hater is the type of cat that loves to do things he frankly shouldn’t be doing. And on top of that, ain’t even doin’ big illegal thangs. Just a loser doing a bunch of petty loser activities wasting time. Many of the police constantly poppin’ them are simply doing their jobs and probably wouldn’t even be interested in said loser’s funky *ss but for whatever law is on the books. Real talk, not that I advocate or condone crime, but if you gon’ hate police, hate them because you have penitentiary chances to take and they’re what’s standing in your way. Hate ‘em for some real sh*t, not because you were dumb enough to blaze and drink in public when you know damn well that’s asking for trouble.
Not all po-pos are the kind bashing in the heads of Black and Latino males who happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. While it does go down, to think that is what will happen guaranteed in any encounter with police, and that that is all police are good for, amounts to sensationalism. Of course, you can’t tell many ghetto people NUH-thin’ because they’re convinced it’s crazy sexy cool and politically correct to hate police for livin’. It’s so bad you have some silly bastards who are quick to yell “F.T.P.” at the top of their lungs, but hide the fact that the boys were who they called when the Caprice or their place got broken into. Wild as hell.
Even wilder is that it isn’t like a ghetto person is guaranteed to be shut out from being one. I mean hey, they’re always hiring, it’s a ticket to having one’s sh*t together, and there’s some power to be had in that profession. Street cred, not so much….
Trust, I’m no right wing douchebag who thinks police are all good all the time. Plenty of them are scumbags, and I hate that douchey, bristled mustache a lot of them have. But hating police just because they’re police officers? Even if a relative or good friend happened to be one? Something ain’t right with a person that has that feeling. Those folks are more often than not armed to play themselves right into getting f*cked with by the boys when they really don’t have to (like these idiots here):
Plain and simple, the hood needs to take a holistic approach towards the idea of police and the police need to take a holistic approach towards how they treat the hood. Both need to exercise some empathy and dead the assumption that the other is up to no good at all times, because that assumption has them making asses out of one another.
According to the average ghetto person, we all need Jesus.
Ghetto people LOVE to evoke Jesus.
If a ghetto person graduates, eats food, gets some skins, their team wins a title, just bought a new car, finds out he’s not the father, and so on and so on and so on…they’re thanking Jesus as if they just grew a Rams jersey and quantum leaped into Kurt Warner’s body.
All the good in a ghetto person’s life wasn’t just how things happened to shake out, wasn’t even by their own design. Nope, Jesus had something to do with it…he pulled the trigger on it, goddammit, and there’s no point in arguing with one who’s convinced, because they’ll likely cut you! They ride for Jesus like Crips, Bloods, Folks, and Peoples ride for the set.
That’s what’s up. It’s like riding for the local gang because it’s the safe bet. It’s traditionnnnnn….TRADITION! The whole block goes to the same church. Mama and Grandma raise the babies with guns to their head in their house of the Lawd to make dead sure that to Jesus goes the glory (but all things bad are their own fault, go figure). The offspring play along lest they end up “on punishment” (the hood term for “grounded”), beat with Hot Wheels tracks, or kicked out of the house. And once they come into their own, they generally embrace Jesus, due in no small part to such immersion.
Never mind that a lot of Christian teachings aren’t even really adhered to (“What do you mean don’t eat pork?!? I ain’t Moooooze-lum!”). Never mind that most aren’t that religious in daily life and only go to the “good Christian” card when it’s convenient (e.g. the one who pays the bills is in the hospital, or the jury is deliberating the verdict). Jesus is their homeboy when it’s time for him to be…and he’s not here to defend himelf, so they get away with using his name in vain.
This was written on a Sunday, the day after many church goers just finished a good six days of sin, capped by a wild night at the bar, rent money spent on drinks, glittery tiddys* out, and the whole shot.
Disclaimer: Not written to take a position on religion…gotta disclaim this lest this author incur of the wrath of the likes of this guy:
Ghetto people have been enjoying ribs for many years. With its succulent and sweet sauce and its ability to make one tired from eating them, no wonder it’s been a popular (if not most popular) food of choice for Ghetto folks from coast to coast.
Whether it’s at a neighborhood block party, or at the local Applebee’s, Ghetto people have been ordering up the fare with reckless abandon. While there are two different animals that provide ribs (cow and pig) make no mistake the Ghetto folk never hesitate to take the pork over the beef.
As an added bonus, after the Ghetto person sucks off the sauce he or she can then fashion the seemingly useless bone into a shank or shiv, a perfect weapon for the upcoming domestic dispute with their baby mama, or perhaps in a prison brawl which will surely be in a Ghetto person’s future.
Ghetto people enjoy reusing old cooking grease. The reason for this phenomenon is that reusing old grease is economical and supposedly enhances the flavor of many ghetto cuisines such as fried bologna. Old grease also gives an extra “kick” to catfish and fried chicken. Although there are exceptions to the rule, 9 times out 10 a jar of old grease will be found on or by the stove of a ghetto person’s house. The old cooking grease is often composed of bacon oil, old vegetable oil, lard, fish oil, and of course chicken residue. If the grease manages to go below room temperature, it will start to solidify, often resembling a big jar of pus.
Despite the potential health risk and disgusting hydrogenated oils, ghetto people really like reusing cooking grease. In fact, throwing out old cooking grease is signing your own death warrant. Try going to big momma’s house and throwing out the jar of grease. That person will probably get a beat down.
There’s three types of holidays:
You need Jesus. 
Ghetto people have been enjoying ribs for many years. With its succulent and sweet sauce and its ability to make one tired from eating them, no wonder it’s been a popular (if not most popular) food of choice for Ghetto folks from coast to coast. 
Ghetto people enjoy reusing old cooking grease. The reason for this phenomenon is that reusing old grease is economical and supposedly enhances the flavor of many ghetto cuisines such as fried bologna. Old grease also gives an extra “kick” to catfish and fried chicken. Although there are exceptions to the rule, 9 times out 10 a jar of old grease will be found on or by the stove of a ghetto person’s house. The old cooking grease is often composed of bacon oil, old vegetable oil, lard, fish oil, and of course chicken residue. If the grease manages to go below room temperature, it will start to solidify, often resembling a big jar of pus.
#52: Obesity
October 29, 2009 · 2 Comments
Anyway, to get back in focus, real talk, the hood is teeming with fat bastards. Oodles of lard*sses who probably eat Oodles of Noodles…uncooked…dipped in Cheez Wiz…on a kaiser roll…with bacon…baked in! Same people that have the nerve to drink a diet soda with it like they’re doing something.
It’s a really weird rule of unalike attract, alike repel or whatever, kinda like how in planes you move the flaps up to go down and down to go up. Ghetto people who can barely afford to keep their fridge stocked somehow, someway tend not to miss too many meals because somehow food with more ingredients that’s bad for you is cheaper than food with less ingredients that’s good for you. And unlike their non-ghetto counterparts, ghetto people eat like it’s going out of style, and then park themselves in front of the tube to catch up on their stories or videos or bootleg movies or whatever.
Imbalanced lifestyles leaving the hood chock full of large and in charge ghetto people built like tanks. Water tanks. Septic tanks. Whatever tank it is, it’s a tank that doesn’t move much, because many ghetto people never met an exercise they liked. Which is how the diabetes clinics keep a good attendance…even on Christmas.
While we’re at it, ever notice also that a lot of ghetto girls that have nicknames and e-mail/Internet handles with words like “Sexy” or “Cute” in them are unequivocally fat? Can’t say they’re tryna convince themselves they’re attractive and desirable, because thirsty *ss ghetto dudes already have them convinced, gassin’ em up in Myspace comments and sh*t, having them think they can walk out the rest and to the club in their brand new kits from Torrid and Abundance with swagger enough to expect three free drinks plus appetizers. Their crew of four will dance in a circle (like they’re really beating dudes away with a stick that night) and take up the entire floor. Sloppy, morbidly obese chicks that in turn have the nerve to consider themselves “thick.”
Ghetto people get uber-fat as if being so damn big builds character. As if it’s the best protection. Yeah, it’s great protection…from getting laid. Oh, who am I kidding, Big Bertha still finds a way to crank out a bunch of babies…all of which she can feed from one teat as they treat her spread out areola like the round table King Arthur’s knights sat around.
They often try to explain it away with excuses like having thyroid problems or being “big-bone-ded.” When usually it never occurred to them that BBQ cheese puffs since 3 years old ain’t exactly the breakfast of champions.
Sorry, NBC, ghetto people are the biggest losers of a different kind.
Categories: beauty · health · life · vices
Tagged: Abundance, babies, Baby Huey, big boneded, Biggest Loser, diabetes, exercise, King Arthur, Myspace comments, NBC, obese, Oodles of Noodles, pig, round table, swagger, thick, thyroid, Torrid, unalike