One of the best parts about living in the city is that I don’t have to drive far to get to work. But that short stretch of road I use is known as North Avenue, and every day I see a lifetime’s worth of crackheads, bums, thugs, toothless hookers, pimps with pouches full of hooker teeth and other assorted street trash.
Normally, I could just ignore them, but one of their character traits (besides the unmistakable odor of stale bread and gonorrhea) is that basic pedestrian courtesy is completely foreign to them. In their eyes, a crosswalk is merely a suggestion and a “Do Not Walk” sign is nothing but a pole to urinate on after downing a bottle of extra strength cough syrup.
But you can’t fault them all. A lot of them are just products of their environment, however roach-infested that may be. If nothing else, they’re a pretty good source of entertainment when you’re sitting in traffic listening to your favorite O-Town….um, I mean Metallica CD. So, when you’re driving down your city’s equivalent of North Avenue, keep an eye out for some of these characters that I’ve noticed on my daily commute.
***************
The Electric Wheelchair Boogaloo Crew
I see plenty of old men in this area in wheelchairs, but they’re always cruising in electric ones. And they’re quite graceful. Maneuvering around curbs, broken bottles, passed out meth addicts, random limbs sticking out of trash bags. These guys are like homeless NASCAR drivers. Except with more teeth.
The Crazies
These are the best. There’s no rhyme or reason to what they do. Take for example a woman that I had the pleasure to watch cross the street in front of me the other morning. She was dressed in a lovely ensemble from the latest Derelict clothing line and had a very noticeable limp. She would take one step, then bring her other foot even. Another step, then even. Kind of like if she was walking down a church aisle, about to marry the man of her dreams and become Mrs. Wonky Crackhead. But the best part was that each time a foot hit the ground, she’d say:
“Step.”
“Jomp.”
“Step.”
“Jomp.”
Now, I don’t know what Jomp is, but it’s definitely funny. And it’s definitely going to become part of my daily vocabulary.
The Crazies (with possible violent tendencies)
These guys aren’t quite as fun. At first, you might think they’re just regular Crazies, but as you listen to them babble, you start to realize they might actually turn their craziness on you. It goes from being fun to frightening faster than they can shout “The government infested my brain with Cracker Jacks!”
The real turning point is the moment when they actually make eye contact with you. You can see their soul, and even it hasn’t had bathed in months. It breaks that “fourth wall” and you realize you’re no longer watching as a casual observer. You’re about to get sucked into the constant David Lynch movie that’s playing in their heads.
If this occurs, just hit the gas. I don’t care if they’re standing right in front of you. Just floor it. The time you might have to spend in jail for running them over will be a lot less frightening than whatever they have planned for you and your purdy mouth.
The Geriatric “G”
As our population gets older, some guys that were really fly at one point never really change their look. The guy I’ve nicknamed The Geriatric “G” is actually one of the coolest playas on the block. It just so happens that he’s 78 years old and uses a walker. But he does it while decked out in a maroon leather suit.
And I don’t care how old you are…if you can rock a maroon leather suit and still look cool, you can get away with having two artificial hips and a Fixodented grill. You’re still superfly in my book.
Smelly Balls
I see this guy every now and then and I named him Smelly Balls because it looks like he’d have really smelly balls.
***************
Every town has them. So I say give ‘em a nickname and enjoy their antics. Just do it from a safe distance. You never know what kind of monstrously superpowered lice the government might have infested them with. And those suckers can really Jomp.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Monday, February 05, 2007
Happy Bell Biv DeValentine's Day! (a.k.a. - MasterFreak Theatre)
True love is in the air. But it can be a very confusing emotion. Luckily, when it comes to matters of the heart, one can always turn to poetry and find reflections of their innermost thoughts and feelings.
And who better to shed a little swanky, red-light on the subject than a trio of romantics. Am I speaking of Blake, Shelley and Keats? No, fool! I’m talkin’ ‘bout three boys who really know what true romance is all about….getting’ yo freak on.
I’m talking about Ricky Bell, Michael Bivins and Ronnie DeVoe….better known as Bell Biv DeVoe. And now ya know.
Slick, Biv and R.D. begin their lesson of lust in a poem known simply as “Poison.” As we all know, before one can freak, one must mack, which is the equivalent of a peacock showing his plumage to a potential mate. Mack correctly, and a freak will surely follow. But you can’t just freak on anyone. There has be a connection that’s deeper than simply “getting up in dem guts.” Let’s read from Ricky Bell’s first verse.
“It's oh, so (beautifuuuuuuuuul)
Relationships they seem from the start
It's all so (deadllllllllly)
When love is not together from the heart”
How true, young Ricky. How very true. Pick the wrong ho and you could be entering into what psychologists refer to as a “toxic relationship.” The girl is your poison. P-P-poison. Next, the former New Edition lads pontificate on what happens when this poison enters your bloodstream. It goes straight to your heart.
“It's drivin' me out of my mind!
That's why it's hard for me to find
Can't get it out of my head!
Miss her, kiss her, love her
Wrong move you're dead.
That girl is POISOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!”
And in their most revelatory line, the boys let us in on a little secret that it took me years to learn.
“Never trust a big butt and a smile.”
If only I had followed this mantra in my younger years, I might have not fallen into the deadly trap of a “low pro ho” who was “cut like an aaa-fro.” Only now can I see that she was simply “schemin on house, money and the whole show.”
The un-whack wordsmiths also preach of the importance of brotherhood. If the subject of our poem had only heeded the words of his friends, he would have been able to avoid the entire ordeal. Observe.
“But I know she's a loser (How do you know?)
Me and the crew used to do her!”
Oh, DeVoe! Why didn’t I take your advice to heart? If the entire crew fornicated with this young fly girl, what could possibly make me think I could change her? For she is clearly poison….and there is no antidote.
Then, one sweet day, you'll fight your way through the throngs of fly, yet fatal honeys, and you might be able to find that one dope girl that stands out from the rest. And when you do, you can read her a passage from Bell Biv Devoe’s second most famous work. Sit her down, look her in the eyes and say the three little words that every girl longs to hear….”Do me, baby.”
But it’s not always as simple as that. You have to know the girl is up to the task. Let’s read together from the first few stanzas of this literary masterpiece.
“Take a look at me
Tell me do you like what you see
Do you think you can
Do you think you can do me?
Kiss me pretty baby
Touch me all over
Girl, what makes you think you can do me
Do you think you can do me, girl?”
These questions are important. If she can’t keep up, you might give her a heart attack, or worse, you could risk having a less than stellar freaking experience. So, they offer some advice on what to do to maximize your freakiness.
“Girl, let your hair down
Take off your clothes and leave on your shoes
Would you mind if I looked at you for a moment
Before I make sweet love?”
Notice the tenderness. Ask your lady if you can gaze at her beauty, for which there is no comparison. Then freak the shit out of her.
Also, feel free to whisper other sweet nothings into her various orifices, such as:
“I like to do the wild thing”
And…
“Oh,,.come on and sweat me.”
Also, let her know it’s not all about you. You’re flexible enough that you can freak her at different hours of the day. Women love to know that a man is taking their needs into account before they flick the freak switch to the “on” position.
“Do me, baby (I like it in the morning time, yeah)
Do me, baby (Sometimes I love it in the evening, baby, yeah)
Do me, baby (Can you do me all over, girl, yeah, yeah)”
Once things get going, you’re going to need to know exactly what actions to take. Luckily, B.B.D. offers these detailed tips on how to please a woman.
“Smack it up.
Flip it.
Rub it down.
Oh, noooooo.”
Sounds simple enough, right? Just be sure to follow their instructions in that order. I can’t tell you how many times my lovemaking has been hindered by the fact that I rubbed it down first, then proceeded to flip it. By the time I was going to smack it up, she had fallen asleep.
But, if all goes well, the "Oh noooo." you hear is the precursor to a successfully timed climax and not the disappointing shout of premature new-jack-swingulation on your part.
But most importantly…
“Kinda wet, don't forget
The J, the I, the M, the M, the Y, y'all
I need a body bag.”
That’s right. Ricky, Michael and Ronnie want us to remember to always practice safe sex. Or possibly necrophilia on a guy named Jimmy. The lyrics are a little vague. But I like to think the body bag they’re referring to is that of the Magnum variety.
Well, I hope we’ve all learned a little something today. Stay away from toxic hoes and make sweet love whenever you can, for the booty is as fleeting as time itself.
And if anyone would like to join my popular fan club, The Bell Biv DeVotees, we meet every Tuesday night in El Bar, behind El Azteca.
I’d like to conclude with a practice that no early 90’s R&B jam would be complete without…the shout out.
“Yo' fellas, that was my end of bloggin.
You know what I'm sayin'?
Yeah, Rowdy Bowden in full effect
Yo', wassup to Jordo H and Southern Sports Dude.
And I can't forget about my boy, Bobby Brown and the whole New Edition crew.
Another Bad Creation for-eva!
Peace.
And I’m gone.”
And who better to shed a little swanky, red-light on the subject than a trio of romantics. Am I speaking of Blake, Shelley and Keats? No, fool! I’m talkin’ ‘bout three boys who really know what true romance is all about….getting’ yo freak on.
I’m talking about Ricky Bell, Michael Bivins and Ronnie DeVoe….better known as Bell Biv DeVoe. And now ya know.
Slick, Biv and R.D. begin their lesson of lust in a poem known simply as “Poison.” As we all know, before one can freak, one must mack, which is the equivalent of a peacock showing his plumage to a potential mate. Mack correctly, and a freak will surely follow. But you can’t just freak on anyone. There has be a connection that’s deeper than simply “getting up in dem guts.” Let’s read from Ricky Bell’s first verse.
“It's oh, so (beautifuuuuuuuuul)
Relationships they seem from the start
It's all so (deadllllllllly)
When love is not together from the heart”
How true, young Ricky. How very true. Pick the wrong ho and you could be entering into what psychologists refer to as a “toxic relationship.” The girl is your poison. P-P-poison. Next, the former New Edition lads pontificate on what happens when this poison enters your bloodstream. It goes straight to your heart.
“It's drivin' me out of my mind!
That's why it's hard for me to find
Can't get it out of my head!
Miss her, kiss her, love her
Wrong move you're dead.
That girl is POISOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!”
And in their most revelatory line, the boys let us in on a little secret that it took me years to learn.
“Never trust a big butt and a smile.”
If only I had followed this mantra in my younger years, I might have not fallen into the deadly trap of a “low pro ho” who was “cut like an aaa-fro.” Only now can I see that she was simply “schemin on house, money and the whole show.”
The un-whack wordsmiths also preach of the importance of brotherhood. If the subject of our poem had only heeded the words of his friends, he would have been able to avoid the entire ordeal. Observe.
“But I know she's a loser (How do you know?)
Me and the crew used to do her!”
Oh, DeVoe! Why didn’t I take your advice to heart? If the entire crew fornicated with this young fly girl, what could possibly make me think I could change her? For she is clearly poison….and there is no antidote.
Then, one sweet day, you'll fight your way through the throngs of fly, yet fatal honeys, and you might be able to find that one dope girl that stands out from the rest. And when you do, you can read her a passage from Bell Biv Devoe’s second most famous work. Sit her down, look her in the eyes and say the three little words that every girl longs to hear….”Do me, baby.”
But it’s not always as simple as that. You have to know the girl is up to the task. Let’s read together from the first few stanzas of this literary masterpiece.
“Take a look at me
Tell me do you like what you see
Do you think you can
Do you think you can do me?
Kiss me pretty baby
Touch me all over
Girl, what makes you think you can do me
Do you think you can do me, girl?”
These questions are important. If she can’t keep up, you might give her a heart attack, or worse, you could risk having a less than stellar freaking experience. So, they offer some advice on what to do to maximize your freakiness.
“Girl, let your hair down
Take off your clothes and leave on your shoes
Would you mind if I looked at you for a moment
Before I make sweet love?”
Notice the tenderness. Ask your lady if you can gaze at her beauty, for which there is no comparison. Then freak the shit out of her.
Also, feel free to whisper other sweet nothings into her various orifices, such as:
“I like to do the wild thing”
And…
“Oh,,.come on and sweat me.”
Also, let her know it’s not all about you. You’re flexible enough that you can freak her at different hours of the day. Women love to know that a man is taking their needs into account before they flick the freak switch to the “on” position.
“Do me, baby (I like it in the morning time, yeah)
Do me, baby (Sometimes I love it in the evening, baby, yeah)
Do me, baby (Can you do me all over, girl, yeah, yeah)”
Once things get going, you’re going to need to know exactly what actions to take. Luckily, B.B.D. offers these detailed tips on how to please a woman.
“Smack it up.
Flip it.
Rub it down.
Oh, noooooo.”
Sounds simple enough, right? Just be sure to follow their instructions in that order. I can’t tell you how many times my lovemaking has been hindered by the fact that I rubbed it down first, then proceeded to flip it. By the time I was going to smack it up, she had fallen asleep.
But, if all goes well, the "Oh noooo." you hear is the precursor to a successfully timed climax and not the disappointing shout of premature new-jack-swingulation on your part.
But most importantly…
“Kinda wet, don't forget
The J, the I, the M, the M, the Y, y'all
I need a body bag.”
That’s right. Ricky, Michael and Ronnie want us to remember to always practice safe sex. Or possibly necrophilia on a guy named Jimmy. The lyrics are a little vague. But I like to think the body bag they’re referring to is that of the Magnum variety.
Well, I hope we’ve all learned a little something today. Stay away from toxic hoes and make sweet love whenever you can, for the booty is as fleeting as time itself.
And if anyone would like to join my popular fan club, The Bell Biv DeVotees, we meet every Tuesday night in El Bar, behind El Azteca.
I’d like to conclude with a practice that no early 90’s R&B jam would be complete without…the shout out.
“Yo' fellas, that was my end of bloggin.
You know what I'm sayin'?
Yeah, Rowdy Bowden in full effect
Yo', wassup to Jordo H and Southern Sports Dude.
And I can't forget about my boy, Bobby Brown and the whole New Edition crew.
Another Bad Creation for-eva!
Peace.
And I’m gone.”
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