Crazy White kid

As I have attended college I have learned a few important things 1. you spend four years to learn how to become an employee 2. there is always a kid who listens to only his opinion in every class 3. there are alot of people trying to find themselves in college. So going off the third point that I have discovered in my college life, when people are trying to find themselves they usually base it off others. So the other day I am sitting in the hall of flags studying, making fun of others, and sipping on a Gatorade i took from the cafeteria, I notice a young white man. Now this was no ordinary white boy. He actually looked quite gangsteresque to say the least. This is how he appeared, Caucasian, baggy shorts, long black t, a Montreal expos hat tilted to the side straight bill, i pod, and a pair of air force ones. So anyways you think to yourself this guy is "hood". He comes and sits beside me, because one of his homeboys is a seat down. They start talking. This is how I appear at that moment, slacks, leather loafers, pinstripe shirt, paisley tie, hair fixed, and sipping on Gatorade. I think to myself, man this cousin of bubba sparks could only be from l.a or off the cast of I love New York 2. Anyways so he is talking to his boy about underground hip hop. I lean over to the guy eventually and say "hey man where you from?". This guy replies Wyoming.
WYOMING!!!!!!!!!!! you are hood from wyoming.

This is the part where i wanted to slap this son of a cattle driver in the face. I grew up as the minority in my high school, I understand hood and speak some ebonics. This fool is from WY. Thats right the state where there are more cows than people. The state where they have a white point guard and a white running back. The state where they carry guns to hunt not for protection. There population is 97% white and the state motto is equal rights. Equal rights for who? oh wait all the white people.So it goes back to my question: how can you be hood when you aint got a hood? I guess the mountains are ghetto. The only doo rags they wear is bandannas to keep dust out there face while ranching.

So this hood guy is talking like he is off of a lil wayne mixtape. He is using slang and garbage. The moral of the story is if you were in a real hood you would be dead. This guy was shooting dice at yahtzee with his family instead of shooting a dice in an alley sipping cognac. I dont run around saying vato or homes because i dont know any mexican gangsters.

Homelessness

So i recently decided to make a last of things i am grateful for as part of a class project. Stuff like i am grateful not to stink, to have a nice family, and to be able to survive in the wilderness for long periods of time with no contact from society. This made me think: could i be homeless? And then i realized oh wait! I dont like homeless people. This has come thorugh continual exposure to homeless people. For two years i saw them. First i was christ like and was like oh wait a homeless person i will be nice and give them money. Now i am to the point if you are homeless and i am nice and you dont have manners, i am going to punch you in the throat. Example, the other day in SLC, I spy a homeless person I grab a random wad of cash and give it them. They respond with nothing. No thank you, No smile or headnod, I thought about saying your welcome to be a jerk. I refrained. Instead I walked away just knowing that if I become homeless I am going to be a grateful, portly, homeless man. I will dance for nickels and sing for quarters. This is not being mean or a punk, its just simple If you want my money homeless people, you better get loose to get your bottle of grey goose. also i would suck at being homeless cause i cant grow no facial hair because my momma is asian

tailored pants and obnoxious honkeys

So this blog is basically dedicated to the white trash saltines that bring me down. So i like to have my pants tailored to make me feel like i got cash flow. the other day i go to a new tailor (ess), she looks at me all with the stank eye. i look at her with the stank eye. She then ask in her white trash mannerisms "what chu want", I then reply "this is a tailor shop, what you think i want?", I got to get my pants fitting right lady. So i step up on the stool she then proceeds to grab and tuck and asking how do i like my pants. I then tell her. The white trash queen then has a phone call probably from one of the following 1. her cousin who is the father of her child 2. her meth dealer 3. or a payday advance place looking for thier cash. She is talking on the phone frantically while still pinning my pants. Take into mind that this seamtress looks at though her hand eye coordination aint nothing to brag about. I could tell when somebody is uncoordinated. Or maybe its the massive amount of Pabsts Blue Ribbon that she gulped on her way to her seamstress haven. She might have been swervin you never know. Anyways so she is still talking and pinning. She is in the zipper region pinning. So next thing you know my white trash love affair is over as she has stabbed me with a pin and violated my happiness.Moral of the story: I got stabbed in the junk with a pin.Honkeys and pins dont mix. The End