Something about ghetto people and raising bad *ss kids. Off the hook *ss kids…some with hook heads. Throwing things at the teachers, cussin’ around town, running around the f*ckin’ store treating it like it’s an Olympic track meet where they can win free Kool-Aid for a year. (Who else resists the urge to trip one?) Since when was a Kmart run a day at the park? If the kids need a place to play, take them to Chuck E. Cheese. Repeat, Chuck E. Cheese, not Cheesecake Factory. This author wants to enjoy the herb-crusted salmon in peace.
Is it that being bad as a child is believed to make you tough enough to handle the real world? Is the parent that burnt out to do any serious child rearing (meaning child development in community college was a waste of financial aid and she may as well have taken cosmetology)? Does mama need her Newport or Black & Mild–or blunt–to cope anymore? (Who knows where daddy is–probably ran away because he knew going in it was no use even tryin’.) Ghetto parents let their kids do just off the wall things. As much sugary bullsh*t as they’re allowed to eat, it’s no wonder these kids just go a million miles an hour tearing up toys, knocking down the glass furniture, making a big mess, and making a parent think of selling them on the black market like Shaniya Davis’s mother (never too soon).
And there is no “it takes a village to raise a child,” because ghetto parents ain’t having anyone say sh*t to their precious jewel of a child. No matter what they did. So of course you can forget about a ghetto child knowing the meaning of accountability, because they’ve been taught they’re bigger than society. There should be a law where you’re allowed to intervene under the right conditions and circumstances, allowed one exception a year of “going chimp” on someone when they’re just doing too much at your expense. OK, maybe not go chimp, because that leaves pretty ugly results, but you should be allowed to dish out a good sound beating like Mister once in a while. Or just flick one like Superman did those beer nuts in Superman III.
Nope, can’t go there, times have changed, so you’re just *ss out like we all are. The kids will be bully-footing their schoolmates and everyone else in the vicinity. Girls hella fast getting knocked up at 13, boys will always itch to wanna do some dirt, drinking and smoking way too young, something illegal or else all isn’t right with the world. This is how they get tried as adults. They may as well be the adults because we’ve turned the world over to them, spoil them, let ’em do whatever the f*ck they want. After all, at the month of this writing, parents ghetto or not ghetto are out breaking themselves to get their kids the latest expensive gadget or a jacket they’ll get too fat for in a few weeks or a toy they won’t give a sh*t about by MLK’s birthday, all for the sake of holiday spirit. Rewards their ADD-having behinds won’t appreciate because they weren’t taught to.
The babies are not the greatest because instead of teaching them to be, we’re teaching them they already are…and getting results like every douche on My Super Sweet Sixteen.
This could go a billion directions…so could ghetto kids if this author had a 32 oz. Louisville Slugger at his disposal.
Posted in family, home
Tagged ADD, babies, beer nuts, bully-foot, Cheesecake Factory, Chuck E. Cheese, go chimp, Kmart, knocked up, Louisville Slugger, My Super Sweet Sixteen, Newport, off the hook, Shaniya Davis, Superman
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
Once upon a time, the American afternoon was the home of Mike Douglas, soaps like Another World, game shows, reruns of prime-time hour dramas, and the greatest cartoons one could possibly wanna come home from school to. Maybe even a random movie…and this was on a Big 3 affiliate! As time passed and cable penetrated more homes than Ron Jeremy has college dropouts, habits began to change. Two people worked instead of one (the cable had to get paid for somehow!) and there was increasingly a different demographic at home. That’s when the car insurance companies, personal injury lawyers, for-profit vocational schools and such began advertising to replace the dishwashing liquid and peanut butter commercials. And the soaps, reruns, and especially the cartoons started getting s-canned in favor of judge shows and very. Trashy. Talk shows.
Let’s examine the messages presented here, shall we?
“Yo’ *ss need to be in SCHOOL, you non-workin’ muhf*cka, so you can go get a job to feed all them bad *ss kids with!”
“You can’t drive that bucket parked outside to go find a job with (since no one will hire folks who ride the bus) until you insure that b*tch! But it’s a bucket, so you can forget about full coverage.”
-weight loss surgery:
“We’re here to help the nation of fat bastards like you get a job and a date. And since you’re mentally and physically bankrupt enough not to mix in a walk or two and quit eatin’ bullsh*t, we’ll be more than happy to take your money and make you financially bankrupt as well!”
“Come to us, we’ll get your baby daddy outta jail so he can help raise them kids and pay them bills for you…or not.”
-tax and credit services:
“Fix your financial issues so you can move out your mom’s rest! So she can invite a man over and do naughty thangs without having to look at yo’ triflin’ *ss on her couch.”
-talk shows and judge shows:
“Do you really wanna look like these pathetic, uneducated, ugly, ghetto/fat/queer (probably all three) pieces of sh*t?”
“See the makeover these ex-nerds and miserable shrews got? They couldn’t buy sex at one point, yet look at them now! This can be you!”
“What kinda superhoe has no idea who fathered her kids? This bet’ not be you!”
“Raise your damn kids right lest you want some random dude in prison shouting at them. While longing to finger them inside their underwear.”
“We need guests dumb enough to air their dirty laundry and show their lack of decorum and intelligence on television. You need money. Give us a call.”
“Then again, don’t. All you’ll do is play yourself and millions will laugh at you just like you laugh at these bozos on the screen now.”
“Your mama didn’t raise you right and your daddy probably doesn’t even exist…let me be the parent you never had as I give you a crash course in the real world with this ruling.”
“Don’t you dare raise your kids on shows like these! We cancelled away the cartoons in order to make you buy cable for them to watch Nick and Disney on so they can talk about it with their little friends on the schoolyard. But what good parent plops them in front of the TV so that they think like these twerps? Send their Flamin’ Hot Cheeto eatin’, red-fingered *sses outside to play so they don’t end up an obese roly-poly like you!”
“If you’re lowbrow enough to watch this, you deserve this bad writing and bad acting we phoned in for you. And you actually tape this sh*t? Well…actually you have to tape it because people like you can’t afford a DVR.”
-all of the above:
“You have too much time on your hands. After a few days of this, if not mere hours, maybe it will sink in. Se habla espanol (even if you don’t, which keeps you from getting hired in CA, FL, and TX)”
The time slot between 10am and 4pm on the Fox, CW, MyNetworkTV, and independent stations (+ Big 3 affiliates in those podunk markets) is now home to television aimed at making you feel like a loser for being at home to watch it (instead of at work like every other red-blooded American is!)…or at least slightly better than the losers cast on it (who are ghetto to deeth for a reason). Social engineering at work free to air.
This has been a public service message from the SGPL Get A Life Association.
Posted in entertainment, home, leisure, money and economics, society and community, vices
Tagged babies, beauty, commercial, education, insurance, lawyer, loser, lowbrow, makeover, rerun, Ron Jeremy, tacky
You can tell who the clubhoppers and carhoppers were by the names their kids have.
Lexus. Alize. Remy (on a girl). Mercedes is a traditional name, but ghetto folks think of the car brand. Same inspiration behind Porscha, derived from when folks would pronounce the car company Porsche like Portia (of Julius Caesar and Ellen’s wifey fame). It’s a surprise no one has seriously named a child Cadillac or Hpnotiq.
Girls tend to be the victims of such names and are doomed to be turned down out of hand for legit gigs and forced onto the stripper pole or into the porno industry, with the only bright side being no need to invent a handle.
The comedian Renee Hicks once clowned the mentality behind it with the example of a then-popular Volkswagen slogan. “Fahrvergnugen…that’s a pretty name. Fahrvergnugen Rashawn Johnson!”
There’s nothing pretty, classy, or exotic about it at all. Chlamydia sounds exotic too but should it be a baby name? Waaaaait a minute!
And A-list celebrities aren’t much better in this regard either. Gwyneth Paltrow and Coldplay’s Chris Martin named their daughter Apple. They must have laughs about it in retrospect. Apple Martin? Imagine the Spanish pronunciation of the last name. Musician Frank Zappa named a child Moon Unit…sounds like the shape of a deuce dropped in the toilet.
Far be it from this author to tell parents what to name their children, or to discourage originality with the snobbery of the corporate world in mind, but how much foresight blurring does it take to sign these names onto the birth certificate? It’s like my rule on tattoos: will whatever you get etched into your body at 20 represent you at 60? If not, you the responsible party get the punishment you deserve.
For example, the guy who had his love of watching ESPN in mind when he named his son needs to be drawn and quartered by his head, arms and balls.
Posted in celebrity, family, gender, life, people
Tagged apple, babies, carhopper, child, coldplay, Gwyneth, kids, moon unit, name, original, tacky, tradition
Nothing makes a ghetto person feel better than seeing someone with a worse situation. Why else do you think daytime talk and judge shows get such great ratings on the Fox, CW, and MyNetworkTV affiliates of the world?
When we heard that a woman gave birth to octuplets, surely we figured it was gonna be some brand new Jon and Kate + 8 situation. But oh, WERE WE IN FOR A LOVELY SURPRISE A WEEK LATER! Details come fast and furious of how trife the whole thing reeeeeeally was! And you know it’s all bad when your own mama is selling you down the river to reporters.
Damn woman already had six other kids, all under 8. Dashiki from Don’t Be A Menace come to life. And where was the father? WHERE WAS THE FATHER? The woman is bone single. No job. Living at home. Obsessed with poppin’ out babies (but apparently not raising the ones she already got…just like ghetto people when you think about it, wanting new toys because the old ones are played out). And greedy too, because she wanted ALLLLL the embryos dropped into her…waaaaait a minute! Yes. 14 kids. To a single, jobless woman. All from frozen embryos. Test tube babies. Their future classmates would have a field day in Robin Harris’s time.
Where did the money come from to do all this? Did she save up all the tooth fairy change from each of her kids already around?
She says she knows she’ll be able to take care of them soon as she finishes school. Word, really? Way to go, you ambitious little scamp! Need I remind you that you have 14 kids, not 14 junk cars you want to overhaul. Children require immediacy of income. But what is she doing right now? Chasing her 15 minutes of fame. Doin’ the interview thang in front of the camera, pallin’ around with Ann Curry and them. Yet she says she doesn’t want to exploit her children by doing a reality show. Hmmm, then why do the national television interview, genius? Talk about a brain in search of a clue. This from a woman who studied to be a psychiatric technician.
And the press dubbed her “Octo-Mom.” Surely that’s based on the fact her lips look like suction cups (Angelina Jolie indeed…Angelyne that drives the pink Corvette in Hollywood looks better than her). Nadya Suleman is the joke that writes itself.
She even gets death threats. We all know the single motherhood epidemic pisses people off, but never to the point we wanted to have one whacked. Maybe those people are who she got the fertility clinic money from?
Suddenly Laquita with four kids from five different dudes doesn’t feel as bad, even though she has to move every year once one of her kids breaks something in the apartment or does that naughty thing to their classmate at school. Compared to Our Miss Suleman, ghetto single moms are living the charmed life. Won’t have to drive a 15-passenger ex-probation department community service van the next 18 years. Maury and Judge Hatchett couldn’t provide better reassurance than that.
Posted in celebrity, family, ghetto, humor, in the news, people, society and community
Tagged babies, crazy, fame, mama, mother, Nadya Suleman, octuplets, pregnant, single
Ghetto people love shacking up and getting knocked up. Why bother to get married when it’s much easier to hook up with Da’Quaylin or Jamarcus and produce Lil’ Ray-Ray? Marriage is a concept that is not very familiar to younger generations of ghetto people. Older folks respect the value of marriage and recognize that having a solid union contributes to uplifting communities, stabilizing of families, and better economic conditions in most cases.
Younger generations of ghetto folks have chosen to shack up and produce children out of wedlock out of ignorance and immaturity. This is called the baby momma/daddy syndrome. Unfortunately there are a large percentage of single parent households within the Black community where oftentimes the woman is left to raise the child(ren) while the father is nowhere to be found. If the father is involved, in most cases he is not married to the mother. Sadly, there are cases where there are women with multiple children with different baby daddies. Shacking up is no longer a social taboo because many people are opting out of marriage. Everyday we see couples in the media and individuals of higher socio-economic levels shacking up with their mates. However they do not suffer the same economic consequences as ghetto people do.
Regardless of what the rest of society is doing, ghetto people fail to realize that there are social benefits to being married. Marriage is a union recognized by the law and affords those couples many rights and privileges not available to the rest of the population. In the event that one of the spouses passes away, the other person is entitled to a various benefits such as Social Security, Pension, etc. If there is a death and no will, the property and other assets automatically go to the spouse. In the event that a marriage is dissolved, the law takes several factors into consideration to determine if one of the spouses must continue to support the other, i.e. alimony, child support, medical expenses, and the division of property.
Let’s compare the situation with 50 cent baby momma and Heather Mills , the ex wife of the Beatle Paul McCartney. 50 cent baby momma was getting 25k per month in child support which is more than enough to sustain a luxurious lifestyle for herself and provide for the child. 50 cent was never married to this woman so he has no legal obligation except for the care of his child. When 50 cent received approximately 400 million dollars when Vitamin Water was brought out by Coca Cola, his baby momma showed her ugly gold digger ways and wanted an upwards of 50k per month in child support. 50 cent took his baby momma to court and the child support payments were reduced to 6k per month. Talk about irony. The latest news is that now 50 cent baby momma is being evicted from the home that was purchased by 50 cent. There is more to the dynamics of this story but stay with me.
Now let’s talk about Heather Mills for a moment. She was with the ex-Beatles legend Paul McCartney who has a net worth of approximately 1.2-1.6 billion dollars. Paul McCartney earned all of this wealth prior to marrying Heather Mills which logically means she would not be entitled to any of that money. However Paul was in love and he married the one-legged wonder without a prenuptial agreement. Fast forward three years later and Heather Mills receive a divorce settlement of 50 million dollars, property, and child support.
If Heather Mills was a baby momma would she have received such a large settlement for getting knocked up? Would the courts haven taken into consideration the lifestyle she had grown accustomed to by being married to Paul McCartney? Unfortunately for 50 cent baby momma, once her son turns 18 years old, the child support payments will stop. No court will take into consideration her wants or needs for a particular lifestyle like Heather Mills. Many a ghetto woman like 50 cent baby momma are only seen as breeders, females who got knocked up with no real commitment and procreating without a purpose.
While many Educated Black People legitimize their long term relationships with marriage, ghetto people continue to shack up and get knocked up with little regard to the socio-economic consequences for their decisions. While 50 cent baby momma is trying to figure out her next steps, Heather Mills has the luxury of deciding how she wants to spend her wine budget.
Posted in community, dating, family, life, money and economics, people, relationships, society and community
Tagged babies, boyfriend, girlfriend, pregnant, tradition, wedlock