Crips in New York City?!?

Are you f*cking kidding me?

Unbelievable.

One of those kids is yellin’ “cuzz”…it don’t even sound right in that accent, like a mockery almost.

Far be it from this author to question anyone’s thug thizzle…I don’t even think it’s about turning the streets out on that tip for these particular guys, seems like it’s a rap thing.

This could have been a “You can’t make this stuff up” entry, but it was just beyond bizarre to see this. Don’t get it twisted, I got used to NYC-style Bloods, but I also know that what they do is different. Generally though, it’s like this in my mind, if you’re gonna be thuggin’, the least you can do is stay in your city’s lane. Bay Area do their Bay thing, Chicago and the Midwest stick to Folks and People, New York should stick to Decepticons and razor blades in the mouth and buck fiftyin’ people (not that I want to see that), and Crippin’ and Bloodin’ needs to be left to SoCal and wherever it made its way to pre-The Chronic. For a style of thuggin’ to rise in a place known for a different home brew? It’s just odd.

About as odd as that Champ MC video “Keep It On The Real”, with lowrider Impalas in the middle of the Bronx.

What’s next, Nortenos and Surenos in France or some sh*t?

UPDATE: Researched it some more and it seems that Crips have been around in the Tri-State and other northeast US areas since at least ’96. Doesn’t take away from my idea that NYC just looks weird embracing a foreign style of thuggery. And they could be very true and sincere to this, showing solidarity with SoCal sets and everything. I’m just sayin’, between this and those 508 dudes, the streets are out of control, things done changed.

You can’t make this stuff up #7

So after this author gets thru watching NCIS: Los Angeles (don’t sleep, excellent show, I never miss an episode), I click over to the news, and oh so many stories in, they talk about these cats in New Bedford, MA, who get arrested for making a “f*ck law enforcement” type song. At first, you’d be like, what is this, ’92? But before you grow a tie-top hat and Zubaz, the thing was, they were naming names, not just any names, but those of specific police officers, their actual probation officers, so on and so forth. No DA worth his salt is gonna sit back and let that go down without f*ckin’ with somebody.

And as 2520 as these dudes come, they aren’t exactly the Icy Hot Stuntaz. They look like they get down for real. Who knew there was a 2520 hood out there that was that style of grimy? And though the song doesn’t sound mixed very well and these cats drop F-bombs like they’re going out of style, dare I say it’s overall actually pretty dope! Old girl from “It’s So Cold In The D” should take notes. They got a future with street cred attached once their violation lid is up.

UPDATE: As stated when this author first reported for you to decide, the actual vid is lawn gawn, so this is the closest you’ll get to hearing the sound (until maybe those cats or one of their boys cut an edited version…dare I say they should be heard from again with something, LOL. Somebody will sign they *ss even in these days and times):

Click here for the full story.

#49: Loving Mom and hating Dad

Let this author frame the following for you in a way that ghetto folks understand.

In the hood, the boys are known to go back and forth with really incendiary jokes about their opponent’s relatives. Ghetto people all know (or at least are convinced) they pops ain’t sh*t, so baggin’ on dads doesn’t rate because it ain’t that effective. But baggin’ on moms is where you can get some laughs and do some real damage. Those sessions get charged like hemi Dodges.

Not to mention note the difference in attendance at buffet restaurants close to the hood for the Champagne brunch on the second Sunday in May versus the third Sunday in June. If pops is there on Father’s Day, it’s likely he’s paying his and everyone else’s way. Whereas moms on Mother’s Day probably has a brand new Lexus with that douchey red bow on top in the parking lot when she comes back out…with an LCD TV, Coach bag, shoes from Aldo, and that damn basket gift wrapped in the trunk! All of this chipped in for by her doting offspring, as if she made them by all by herself.

It’s just something about mothers with ghetto people. They can do ZERO wrong in one’s eyes. Have kids with mad multiple different dudes (that their man-sweatin’ *sses give priority over said children), end up in prison on credit card scams (even ruining their own kids credit so they can’t finance a car or house in the future), beg for help from the kids the rest of their triflin’ lives using the “dirty diapers” trump card for pacification, and be an otherwise complete bastard to them…and they still hold momdukes on a pedestal.

Pops could give a kid a little less money than he was able to earn that week, and he’s the worst! Person! In the worrrrrrrrld! Ghetto people have daddy issues arguably worse than they do police issues. Yeah, we all know of the deadbeat dudes who only care about chasing new draws and bolt at the first sign that old girl is with child. But ghetto society got so jaded from even hearing about those guys that dudes that are out to do right can’t catch a break. Can’t win custody in court or nothin’…even when the punk *ss mama is literally a meth and crack addict on the stroll 16 hours a day.

And you wonder why muthaf*ckas wanna get married less and less each passing year…

You can’t make this stuff up #4

In the immortal words of Black Sheep’s Mista Lawnge, “Vaaaaaan Damme!”

Of course we knew Jacko’s name would be used to make mad people money (and ratings–say hi, BET!)…and of course people go mad in the process:

Because yeah, Michael Jackson not only makes people hungry on the evening dinner hunt, but in the obvious way he was out to shape his image, he really wanted his name associated with fried chicken.

Hoodie Award winning fried chicken at that. And as insult to injury, they had the nerve to not even offer white meat.

The hood shows in very laughable and shameless ways that it sometimes just doesn’t get it. Vaaaaaan Damme…

#34: Police issues

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.

Speaking of chicken…part deux (the Oprah edition)

SGPL is not gonna slam a big write up on it here…we’ll just let this and myriad related articles break it down:
http://gothamist.com/2009/05/06/kfcs_denial_of_grilled_chicken_give.php

But honestly, after debacles like this one, what was corporate thinking, let alone Oprah and her people? Surely the franchise managers were calling in their horror stories. This author thinks the individual stores learned their lesson on that fateful Monday, that lesson being that these fiendish chickenheads can’t control themselves when “free” and “chicken” form Voltron. And then to put Oprah’s stamp of approval on another run on the chain a week and change later?

Not to mention chaos was bound to ensue when folks could print up as many as they liked, with a new number for each.

Sometimes I wonder…maybe Dave Chappelle’s jokes involving chicken weren’t far off the mark.

On a related note, a cat told me that his girl got a text saying “Oprah gave the white people money and cars, she gives us chicken and it ain’t even fried!”

Where’s Stuff Educated Black People Like when you need them?

They would be most appropriate to weigh in on swine flu hitting their beloved Howard University.

Regardless, they are sorely missed.

Well, Charlee?

Speaking of chicken…

Sometimes the hood brings the pain in embarrassing fashion.

Kentucky had a promotion today where they were giving away a piece of their Grilled Chicken in order to jump start people paying for some. So your esteemed author figured to swing over to one after the morning business was wrapped up.

I walk in, there’s a line six deep, and I figured I was gonna need to grab a Snickers as I would be in for a long campaign. But that was the pick-up line. The order line was clear. Cool! So I order a couple of Snackers and ask for a free thigh, pay and wait, figuring things would be straightforward.

Not 60 seconds later, a line snakes in back of me ordering with the rush of someone who’s been smokin’ that water. Should be neither here nor there, one would think. You think?

Five minutes pass, day laborer types were taking back pieces of chicken that were exposed to the dining area, and the workers were putting them right back under the lamps! (Suspect much? They gave those same pieces out to unsuspecting folks in the drive-thru.) Suddenly this furious pack of old ladies and county broads gets worked to a rich lather…and me with my hurt back listening out for the new material.

“Why don’t they just give us the chicken?!?”
“What are y’all doing back there?”
“At another Kentucky, they would just make a box and pass it out!”

All the loudmouth foolishness you can handle in one afternoon.

One woman sees a Latino cat given three sodas and immediately assumes “Look at them, see? They givin’ they people the hook up.”

OK, cut the crap, lady. Are you seriously assuming they would pull something like so blatant? You think Latinos are incapable of ordering and paying for something? Nah, they’re just randomly dropping free Pepsis on their own kind to stick it to you. Gotta love how the racism comes out when folks get angry.

(As I write this, what’s up with Leonardo DiCaprio with a Grambling cap on his head at the Laker game? Plus, Denver whacks New Orleans 121-63. Goddamn Bizarro World in the NBA…but I digress….)

Five more minutes pass and at that point, they were about ready to break out pitch forks and torches. One twentysomething brother (see guy pointing, top pic) finally goes off, rushes the order counter, yelling “F*ck that! I want my money back! F*ck this sh*t!” I had to call him on that, just as I did the aforementioned civil rights activist.

“There’s babies in here, money. Watch your mouth.”

Of course he didn’t care. And neither did the rest of the mob, so wrapped up in needing their chicken fix that all sense of decency went by the boards.

How about going off like this at the city council meeting to get things done? Where’s this anger about the local gang making trouble or about Black-on-Black crime?

But nah, save that anger…for when goddamn chicken isn’t in your hands fast enough. Preying on people that are doing their jobs as fast as they possibly can. At a place you’ll continue to patronize at that. Not to mention being ungrateful for something that’s free and really isn’t that important in the bigger picture.

All seriousness, the hood is at once a beautiful, vibrant place and its own worst enemy.

Bet tomorrow it’ll be like that at El Pollo Loco too.

And the new product? It’s decent, nothing to write home about.

Anyways, any of you experience similar incidents?

#14: Watermelon

Watermelon is the top choice of fruit for ghetto people. Ghetto people prefer watermelon because it is cheap, juicy, sweet, and appealing to the eyes. While Black people are stereotyped for eating an abundance of watermelon, also known as n*gger apples, the truth is that watermelon is the fruit of choice for most Americans.

Black people might find this post offensive but let’s keep it real. When you go to a BBQ thrown by Ghetto and educated folks alike, what fruit do you usually see? WATERMELON. Watermelon is usually the first thing to go, even before the chicken! There is nothing wrong with liking watermelon but racist and ignorant folks have made it taboo to enjoy a delicious succulent piece of watermelon on a hot summer day.

Personally I love watermelon and usually eat it every day during the hot summer months. Watermelon is an excellent source of water and Vitamin C. Watermelon also makes an excellent margarita! Besides, what else goes with BBQ chicken and potato salad? For whatever reason, watermelon enhances the taste of chicken and no one should feel ashamed for enjoying this delicious fruit!

UPDATE: Speaking of watermelon, please bump and download this song right here!