Tag Archives: Newport

#56: Not making New Year’s resolutions

It has likely occurred to you from observation (as it has this author…read along) that of all the bandwagons ghetto people hop on, they ain’t makin’ no resolutions. If they smoke, they smoke. If they fat, they fat (hoo boy, are they ever!). Look around the ghetto first few days of the year, you know ghetto people ain’t givin’ a f*ck about changing! At least not immediately. Ghetto people make changes when they get good and ready, bottom line. Otherwise, they’re perfectly content with how they do whenever you met them, and you’ll have to just deal.

In a way, that’s not a bad thing. Because it’s admittedly kinda silly for a bunch of cornballs to be pigging out and shopping till they drop and drinking like a fish, pounding all these things they usually partake of like it’s going out of style, only to suddenly dead it all cold turkey on January 1st…”new year, new me!!” Uh, what’s that Chad Eight Five says again…oh yeah, that’s right….child, please! Try to all perfect and without sin and sh*t as if the sinful ways are years behind you and you got it all nailed down. Most people who try to get religion and make resolutions distill back to who they were sometime around Valentine’s Day.

Maybe ghetto people are on to something. Change is a process. A process one embarks upon when the time is right, the heart’s really in it, and the mind can invest in it properly…not all willy nilly simply because it’s January. So while the lot of folks start slappin’ on nicotine patches and plunking down CNBC mad money for LA Fitness memberships, the ghetto people are getting in IHOP to get in those all you can eat pancakes (with bacon or sausage) and washing it down with a Newport when they’re done.

#55: Raising bad kids

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.

#48: Talking to people any kind of way

shrewsYou ever text someone and get the response “who the f*ck is this?” and wonder why that was even necessary? You think to yourself that you could see the need to ask who someone is if you’re just curious, but did it require the seasoning of such a hostile fighting word like an F-bomb?

Ever been in line at the liquor store or the chicken and Chinese spot to see an interaction where the customer begins to flare his or her temper and begin spewing forth curses and racial and sexual orientation epithets and such as if that’s really going to get them better service as opposed to their dinner spit into? Way to resolve a dispute. The Newport you just smoked didn’t take the slightest edge off of your stress apparently.

Ever get on the bus or train knowing damn well once you get over by the local high school, parental discretion is advised? Have these kids heard nothing about how to act at home and abroad among polite and other mixed company?

Have some ghetto people lost their home training or are they simply showing they never had any in the first place? Are these folks having a series of bad days, are they just A-holes like that, or were they taught that this kind of language and attitude towards any random *ss person really is peace? And the majority of these twerps dare to assert what kind of “good Christian” they are…

Surely these same people don’t like being talked to any kind of way…unless they’re Likes To Fight Guy on the “I wish you would” tip looking to take it to someone’s chest. Oops, almost forgot, women fight with their mouth, and if you get into it with a ghetto girl, you just might shed a tear or two…because they’ll cut loose and be meeeeeeean! Really mean! You kiss your kids with that mouth, booch?

All this vulgarity, rowdiness, and belligerence from so many hood folks. Desensitized to the point zero empathy is there, zero decency, zero sense of how to treat people, even those you disagree with.

The disease has fully infected the hood, polluted Hip-Hop as a whole, the children are a bunch of potty mouths…I mean this ain’t the 50s and all that, a little colorful language expands minds every now and again…but don’t you the reader find it gets a bit over the top? Wouldn’t it seem uncalled for and inappropriate if you heard it, for lack of a better example, on Saturday morning cartoons?

What is the ghetto person’s hypertensive fascination with using cuss words?

Or the other one you should love that ghetto brothers especially drip like water? “My n*gga.”

Every five words if you eavesdrop on one of their conversations (or are forced to hear it due to the obnoxious loudness), it’s “my n*gga this, my n*gga that, my n*gga my n*gga my n*gga.” You would think they just saw Training Day for the first time the night before. It replaced “you know what I’m sayin'” earlier this decade for most overused ghetto verbiage.

It is said that people who can’t control their tongue can’t control their actions. Now if you notice such behavior in a person, why would you think it’s a good idea to make them company you keep? Or in the case of one of those Bridezilla grooms, marry it?