Over 16,513,758 people are on fubar.
What are you waiting for?

So I haven't told ya'll about my neighborhood yet, huh? "Oh Lawd Kaviar! You gonna talk about Midtown AGAIN?!?!? How many gay jokes do you think we can stand???" I know. I know, ya'll. But I just can't help myself! There is just so much blog-worthy material here! I promise though… no gay jokes! I won't even say…errr, type… the world gay! Ummm.. I just did, huh? For the THIRD TIME already! Ok, ok…. except those previous three times, no more gay shit!! Oops. So I moved into this house that's 1200 square feet of the pure bomb shit. It sounds small for a house, but to my budget and in Cooper Young, 1200 sq ft is on the bigger end. But the true beauty of this crib is its architecture and the view. No lie… my pad looks like some gangsta-ass-Al-Pacino-Scarface-in-Miami-type shit! (minus the "gangsta"… ain't no guns or gators in this muhfukka… and the only coke up in here is that of the Diet variety…*well these days anyway* silver cans for me please! Thank you.) But on the strenf — which has to be the best saying hip hop popularized in the late 80's, though I still don't know how "on the strength" basically translates to the millenium version of "fa real fa real" …. must be some NY shyt… all my Hip Hop Heads, step in any moment here — my shyt is kinda gangsta. It looks like a summer home for some rich muhfukkas that stay draped in Bulgari — which I just learned is some designer and not just an eastern European country! Oh wait… that's Bulgaria… somewhere over by Carjackistan… no wait, Carjackistan is a suburb of Newark…. or is it Compton. All I know is a nygga is the mayor…. or is it governor? This schyt is confroosing. Anyway, my crib… it's hardwood floors throughout with a big ass series of ceiling-to-floor windows overlooking the lively residential diaspora. Dude, the shyt is bangin. "Ummm so like…. so. There's gotta be some slightly homophobic story that follows all this braggin!" Oh how right you are. And I ain't braggin. Bytches. First of all, when I came to see the house, it wasn't the one that I'd seen pictures of and previously posted on this site. The agent brought me to this one first thinking I'd like it better. Oh how right she was. And Oh how gay it is for a grown ass man to keep saying, "Oh how…." — so I shall cease… starting now. So real estate agent chick — older Japanese lady who I'm willing to bet three of those white boxes with metal handles and red Chinese pictures on'em could smell what the Kav Boogie is cookin — drives me out to this place which is rather removed from the hustle and bustle of the rest of MemphriKKKa. The first thing I noticed when I got out the car, besides the house and the view, was the damn smell. It smelled like a bunch of Asian muhfukkas with that special brand of halitosis they have …. like they just had a Talking Contest to see who could exert the most breath in the pronounciation of the letters s, t, and p. Dude! Their halitosis — a word whose origin stems from the Ebonic phrase "Hella toe shit" — decided to have a meeting all up in my atmospherics. It smelled like the airplane coming here from Cali — where the air consisted of 6 hours worth of the recycled breath. The agent, sensing my sudden urge to vomit all over her kimono, showed me the large garden/crops that were growing across the street. Apparently the owners use manure to fertilize their field and that caused the smell....what in the hell is a family doing growing a gtarden in the middle of the neighborhood....not like a little back yard garden either.....Im talking some shit where you need to hook bessie up to a plow and break out your kunta kinte whip! No, she didn't really have on a kimono. And yes, Asian halitosis smells like cow-shittized-fertilizer…. which is better than the Negro version halitosis of the Olde English and fried chicken variety. We roll up in house, and she shows me around. I'm sold on the spot right on the… umm…. spot. So we head back to her office, do the paper work, and a few days later I moved in. I remember recalling on the first drive to my new home how quiet and serene it was, even with the odoriferousness in the air. I couldn't wait to settle in and sleep in the new crib with nothing but the sound of the railroad down the street, the cars traveling down parkway, the recording studio on the other side of my house and Midtown's cool breeze blowing across my taco-meated chest hair. Oh how wrong I was. *I've got to stop that* Just as I was settling in the bed, with a big ass smile on my face in the pitch blackness of my room — looking like a cartoon character locked in the closet… nothing visible but a row of teeth and some blinking eyes– what do I hear??? At 11 pm… as in 11 o'clock AT NIGHT…. I hear…. A.fuggin.ROOSTER! A ROOSTER?!? At 11?!?! PM???!! What the fugg kind of backwards shit is that???? A gahdamn rooster on Eastern Daylight Savings Time!!!??? This rooster apparently lives a few houses behind mine… all up 'round the midnight hour talkin' 'bout ERRR-EH-ERRR-EH-ERRROOOOOO!!! *smh* A few days after I moved in, my neighbors stopped by and brought me some lettuce from their cow-shyt garden as a "welcome to the neighborhood gift." First of all, it wasn't cleaned thoroughly, so I think some of Bessie's grassy bowels was still on it. Second, is this a damn gift??? Where I'm from, bringin a muhfukka vegetables with shyt on it isn't perceived as a kind gesture. Now if they'd brought the cow…. I'd be sounding like that dude on the Temptations Christmas song … "I want my babyback-babyback-babyback ribs." But for your information and cocktail knowledge, lettuce grown in cow-shyt tastes hella good. Damn right I washed and ate it! It was a gift!! Anyway, while the neighbor was here, I asked her about that damned rooster. Know what she told me??? She told me…. that that damned rooster….. CROWS…. every time it sees….. HEADLIGHTS! What?!? WHAT?!?!? So wait a minute… you mean to tell me that this dumb ass rooster thinks every pair of headlights is the SUN RISING?!?!? Dude, this shyt is ridiculous. The rooster's name MUST be Corky. LOL I guess Life DOES Go On…. when you come back reincarnated as a damn rooster. I've heard of jerk chicken, but dammit, this is taking shyt too far. And I wish I could say that was it, but oh no! They have a ton of barking ass dogs around here too! And of course they don't start making all that damn noise until the middle of the night. I have just one question. One simple ass question. There are a lot of Asians moving to Memphis right? Can I get a few more into the neighborhood please? I mean, don't they eat dogs 'round these parts?? Can't they dice them bitches up — pun intended — so a Brutha can get some sleep?? I mean, damn… don't the Gravy Train make some stops up in here??? Shyt man…. ain't Beni Hana low on Fido Fried Rice? Maybe Rover Ramen Noodles??? I mean why are so many gay dudes dawg owners? Shyt. Ya'll made me say gay. Oh how a nygga was set on not jokin on gay shit. Dammit. I said "oh how" again. Double shyt. AND I said the n-word again too!! Triple Shyt!!! … which, by the way, grows the bomb ass lettuce. that is all....
Leave a comment!
html comments NOT enabled! salute required.
NOTE: If you post content that is offensive, adult, or NSFW (Not Safe For Work), your account will be deleted.[?]

giphy icon
last post
17 years ago
posts
83
views
12,257
can view
everyone
can comment
everyone
atom/rss

recent posts

17 years ago
Call Me...
17 years ago
Manhood
17 years ago
That Magical Phrase
17 years ago
Must See DVD!
17 years ago
I gets it on....
17 years ago
Ive been tryin....
official fubar blogs
 8 years ago
fubar news by babyjesus  
 13 years ago
fubar.com ideas! by babyjesus  
 10 years ago
fubar'd Official Wishli... by SCRAPPER  
 10 years ago
Word of Esix by esixfiddy  

discover blogs on fubar

blog.php' rendered in 0.0408 seconds on machine '175'.