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.
Posted in 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
There’s just something about her like there’s something about New Balance 574s on your feet. You can’t place a finger on it, but it feels right.
Adele Givens tells it best. She’s just such a f*ckin’ lady!
She ain’t no video vixen and she ain’t tryna be no hot mama or anything else out of pocket. She’s just straight up woman. Fits Barack to a T. Those factors alone make her bad as hell. And she got badder as she got older! How many women can you say that about?
A woman like her could say “let’s get it on right here right now!” and a ghetto dude wouldn’t even accept because he’s just floored by her general steez…just wanna lay on her bosom and listen to her tell stories or something. And as he lays there, two milk 20-something freaks could come by ready for a three-screw, and he’d turn them down out of hand like “nah, I’m good” with a Kool-Aid smile on his face for a month.
Michelle Obama is the wife every man ghetto or otherwise wants next to him on every date and vacation, let alone bearing his children. And a lot of dudes don’t even know or won’t admit it! Queenly without tryna be some overbearing diva. Comfortable in her own skin just like the President. She knows where she fits in this world, doesn’t have a pretentious bone in her body. Whether wearing shorts in public or getting physically close to Queen Elizabeth, she pulls off being her.
Yo, kcuf the dumb….this author fox with Michelle Obama. Period.
Posted in beauty, celebrity, fashion, in the news, life, people, politics, relationships, society and community, style
Tagged girlfriend, lady, Michelle, Obama, swagger, wifey
Out on the town a few weeks back, I spotted the following:
Yeah, it’s the ghetto Lady Deathstrike. A female Freddy Krueger. And she looked about 40 something running with her boyfriend that was probably 28 or 30. So she’s been studying at the Cougar Den. And her thickness indicates she was taught to kill her own food using those.
You guys can’t tell in the pic, but those things were quite thick and sturdy lookin’. Can’t imagine bangin’ her walls out and her carving one’s back up with those talons (not saying I wouldn’t poke–she had a nice meaty rack and, as you can see, a serviceable rump). What practical use could she have for those things? Maybe to sniff 2 lines worth of coke at once? And why do chicks with these swords on their fingers always have jobs that involve typing?
Author’s note: Yeah, it’s the first post in 30 days. Had been out enjoying summer for one (freaks, sneakers, drinks, you know the deal). Beyond that, what’s the point of casting pearls to swine, AKA these recent commentators who take this blog on face value and swear they know what this author is talking about better than I do. Reminds me of people who buy magazines for the pictures and not the written content. Those who see me drop it over on Kicks On Fire and Very Smart Brothas know the real deal. Anyway, all that is to say I’m alive and well.
HAIR shows! F*cking hair shows.
The convention of feminine and campy flamboyance. Where the home-based stylists and their clients get their ideas. One of many reasons the stores run by Koreans sell the fake hair. And there’s a chance styles seen at one will turn up at a prom or two.
Alright, here’s the analogy to paint the picture for you:
Hair shows are to ghetto people what fashion shows are to the wine-and-cheese, Fancy Dan gay guys and child beauty pageants are to those loser Middle America redneck moms.
Some of the most ridiculous, impossible, Pantone-damning primary colored, Flavor of Love, job interview reject hair styles are what you’re gonna see at a hair show. Even hair magazines will steer clear of hair shows. But ghetto people get up for it like Texas gets up for high school football…and this author crams to understand either one.
So instead of a massive write up on it, it’s pictorial time….observe:
Posted in beauty, business, fashion, leisure, style
Tagged cake boy, camp, campy, convention, expo, extension, fabulous, fierce, flamboyant, fun boy, hair, hair show, multicolor, tacky, weave
Cell phones, business cards, little scraps of paper and pens are always kept ready–maybe even the old school little black book–for that phone number that will make a day. It’s also why the clubs let ladies in for free.
The hood is thirsty for freaks. Thirsty to turn out someone’s sister, daughter, girlfriend, wife…grandmother? Yes, ghetto people have a weak spot for women. And why not? This author agrees that the hood is crawling with cuties, in every Sentra, on every bus bench, at every swap meet, stopping at the liq store for drinks on Friday night, wherever; plenty of sexy young slimmies (and sometimes fatties!) worth taking a flier on.
This fact has caused the hood dudes (and the lesbians) to lose their minds when it comes to getting after it. A lot of these ghetto superhoes will flirt with anything that walks at any time. Hey, closed mouths don’t get fed, but it is a good idea to curb that hunger depending on situations. (Really…tryna bag the court reporter when you’re a defendant? Might be time to cut back on the Too Short just a scosche.)
Funny thing is this has another effect. Due to so many macks gassing up everything female, A) the women generally clean up nicely and stay ready for when Mr./Ms. Right walks up (though some hood girls are golddiggers, so said mack has to be careful) and B) those women will give the one she chooses props for capturing her imagination. This is more likely to happen if that dude or dudette doesn’t do the following:
[woman walks by]
“Sup, shawty! Hey, ma, you got what I need!”
[woman somehow indicates she’s not interested and keeps going]
“Well, f*ck you then, B*TCH! You ugly anyway!”
Women in the hood go through experiences like these alllll the time, with all kinds of folks who lack self-control and home training and apparently can’t handle rejection very well. But why would said hunter in the example pursue her in the first place if she was ugly?
A lot of this has to do with the art of picking up women being a numbers game. (Gotta be able to back it up when you ask “But do you got mo’ hoes den me?”) Just to keep the sword sharp, a lot of heads just holler, holler, holler whenever they’re in position, even if they’re not reeeeeeally feeling the particular girl. That mud duck could be a super-ten on some lonely night…might even be worth some money! One never knows when a diamond is uncovered in the rough. Because that’s basically what picking up women is, mining. And the hood is one hungry prospector.
Hungry to f*ck that one ready girl….and likely her friends too, if they’re up for it.
Posted in beauty, community, dating, leisure, life, people, society and community, street
Tagged bag her up, bitch, broads, dips, freak, girlfriend, golddigger, hoes, john, mack, pick-up artist, pimp, slut, superhoe, thirsty, Too Short, tramp
Meet your average ghetto female, and there’s a 70% chance she has one of two occupations. Doing hair, and singing. Since these girls never really sing unless their song happens to come on 106 and Park while they’re in the shower, we’ll focus on the doing hair part.
How can a ghetto female from 17-70 not get her thalers up on any given Saturday? Chicks always want their coiff did up, to get ready for the club, chu’uch, court, that hot date with the next sugar daddy, er, baby daddy, er potential deadbeat dad, whatever. (Can’t forget the dudes that want the braids, rows, or “dreads” hooked up, but let’s not lose focus here.) Rent or the car note is due, or the kids gotta eat, or old girl wants to stack to get a new pair of heels? Do a couple of heads and be good to go. Hey, why let the semester in cosmetology up under nosy loudmouth chickenheads and gay guys go to waste?
In some cases, all that skilled living room stylist has to do is show up with her hands ready to make magic, as it’s often the client’s responsibility to hit the Koreans up for all the supplies. Otherwise, she might already have that blackened pressing comb that doesn’t even require a dedicated stove, as she only needs to throw it on the range. And she can take her time, as girls are always prepared to be around all damn day to get it done (and some styles still require that lucky girl to come back the next day). The stylist can watch her shows, talk about the latest neighborhood highlights, smoke a tree or two, cuss her boyfriend out on the phone, smack the kids up for spilling the quarter waters on the originally white carpet and all that. Might even dance a little. The client is fully entertained for the trouble, and the stylist will still get paid, lest the client wants water thrown on her dome (you know the ghetto girls hate to get their hair wet) or the fake hair yanked clean out.
Some of these ladies who do hair for the hustle are able to parlay it into renting a booth at virtually any beauty shop in the hood, secure that the buzzer-activated iron door will keep the clients in and the ex-boyfriends out. (Some even ban children! Great quick vacation.) And there’s plenty of these shops to choose from, as some streets have them lined up two to four in a row on the same block. Veterans of visiting Crenshaw Blvd. in Los Angeles know what this author speaks.
It’s a seller’s market.
Posted in beauty, life, money and economics, style
Tagged beauty, boyfriend, fake, fashion, girlfriend, glamour, hair, hood, hustling
There are several devices the human species utilizes to express themselves and get their point across during a conversation. For most people, raising the pitch of one’s voice, and hand gestures would suffice, but ghetto people are a little different. Speaking loudly, snapping one’s neck/teeth/lips to punctuate sentences, and the sprinkling in of curses, obscenities, and slang for emphasis may come to mind, but ghetto people are far more complex than that. Ghetto people have come to depend on small, yet effective hand decorations that not only look great, but also exaggerate their hand motions to help their listener to better comprehend their message. Hence acrylic nails with intricate designs.
While acrylic nails have been around for ages and are worn by nearly everyone, only ghetto people have mastered how to use them to maximize their effectiveness in day to day life. Only a lime green, three inch long acrylic nail with rhinestones and a piercing could catch the attention of a man with a straying eye. That is why you can often spot a ghetto female pointing and clicking her nails while reprimanding her cheating man. When he sees those nails flicking rapidly and clicking, he knows trouble is astir. Nails can also be used to elicit fear into the hearts of young children. Kids tremble at the sight of a pointed finger adorned with intricate nails, because strength and size of the hand that is about to whip them is emphasized.
This breakthrough in communication has garnered so much success for ghetto people, that sometimes words are not even necessary. This form of communication is comparable to sign language. A beginner can tap her nails against a hard surface to show boredom. A ghetto observer will notice the nails and pay more attention resulting in both ghetto people no longer being bored.
At the intermediate level a ghetto person can alternate the use of nail clicking, neck/teeth/lip smacking and multiple sighs to express anger to onlookers. But a fluent ghetto person can convey every emotion, be it excitement or rage, with a simple point or hand flip. This is very impressive. If you find yourself unable to understand a fluent ghetto person, do not panic. Try complimenting her nails and saying, “Wow. I never thought of that!” No matter what she was talking about she will like you because you like her nails. However, if you suspect said person may be upset, do not try to diffuse the situation by commenting on how beautiful her nails look. She may become irate. Try instead to focus on where she is pointing and study her hand motions. When, and only when, she notices you understand and calms down, try saying “You have a beautiful way with words… Hey, nice nails!”. You will have won yourself a new friend.