concrete jungle where dreams are made of
up your nose wit a rubber hose.
I chopped up the K with my metro card, like i always do, and i snorted it with the twenty twenn twenn rolled up between my pointer and thumb. it’s still over there on the table waiting for round 2. or three whatever round this is. i forget.
they say that baby monkey tranquilizers help with depression. they say it does something for you. knocks you in the head till you’re ok.
I feel better already.
though strollers have been pissing me off lately.
Z took me to the grove this weekend. the grove is a mall. a mall is a place where you buy bullshit. In the the good ol days, the mall was the place where you bought bullshit and met people. now you just buy bullshit and meet online.
I used to pull chicks out the mall.
youngsters use facebook. you got all day to come up with something clever to write, spell check and press send. woo her that way champ.
that’s not how we got down young buck. hand to hand combat. see how your mouthpiece is. run up on a broad spit game. get a number, get dissed. whatever.
I used to walk to school 10 miles in 2 feet of snow, whippersnapper! eggs cost a wooden nickle and you had to slice your own bread and if you wanted some butter on it, you had to churn that shit too.
back to the grove. back to the honeycomb hideout.
the grove’s special because it has all the quaintness of small town main street with none of the mom and pop shop keeps to harass you, just nordstrom’s and banana republic.
god bless america
that’s the future my child. much like how the 80’s had the fake ass 50’s malt shops with betty boop on the menu, we have old timey, days of old, shopping areas, packed with kiosks selling bootleg sunglasses, apple computers, and disposable charm.
i think my lips are chapped.
just throwin it out there.
I got a theory on banana republic. i think it fell off because of sex in the city. well that and the fact they got bought by the gap and started making shitty clothes with crappy material. but sex in the city did ‘em in too. they put people in middle america up on game. now these chicks weren’t just hittin the Limited or BR to get clean, they needed jimmy choo and prada and gucci and all that fancy pants top tier shit. thus, the republic of ba-na-na, fell the fuck off.
It’s just a theory, I got lot’s of them.
I gotta theory that the new sex in the city’s gonna be garbage. just a theory but, come on, they’re riding camels and shit?
i was telling Z my banana republic theory whilst at the grove.
He was looking at women, i was dodging strollers.
now that i think of it….
I dont think he gave a fuck about my theory.
he was telling me he needed some new pussy
i said, “i don’t. fuck pussy.”
i need love. like LL cool j.
but this whole not banging thing is cramping my style. not used to it.
i woke up on the plane with a raging hard on shooting down my leg. throbbin against my dockers.
thought to myself, ” well, aint that a bitch.”
tried to throw the jacket on top of it but the friction just made it harder.
i’m over here listening to this book on tape about lee harvey oswald, bout what led him to kill kennedy, bout him being a redneck, dyslexic, commie, living in the bronx and my dick’s jumpin out my pants.
aw hell naw! shit’s embarrassing. what am i 15? what is this math class? i look over at the chinese girl next to me, she don’t even notice me she’s playing on her iphone. all in her phone and don’t even notice this dick.
everyone’s got a fuckin iphone.
look at me bitch.
bell dings. i get up with the coat in front of my crotch, help her get her bag out the overhead and I’m on my way.
shit got hard again in the cab. hope the jamaican didn’t notice it wasnt for him anyway.
sidenote - everybody in first class had an itouch. perhaps if i purchase an itouch, i could fly first class too.
oh to be young, sexy and savvy, with white teeth and a disposable income. I’ll get there before i’m too old. I’ll get there.
do you understand the level of concentration it takes to type whilst on this shit?
this shit’s for porcupines and koalas. but it’s f-u-n!!
this chick rolled by me at the grove with a dog stroller. she had her dogs in a fuckin stroller. I wanted to punch her in the face for that. truth be told, it was less about her and more about how lousy i was felling, but still, a fucking dog stroller?
I’m sure there was a perfectly good reason she had some puppies in a stroller. that reason being, she can’t get a man to ejaculate inside of her and give her some human babies to push around in a stroller. thus the dogs in a stroller. now go home and cry puppy mom. go home and cry.
but even the human baby strollers are out of control and they’re everywhere!!! I saw this bitch mob through the grove’s fake cobblestone walkways with some knobby tires, suspension, ground effects, neck holder, roll bar, and 2 cup holders by the handle on her stroller! 2 cup holders! one for her drink and one for her blackberry. the baby she was pushing, was about 27 years old, big as hell. and the kicker, wait for it… me and this bitch had the same color blackberry skin.
pink.
my power color.
aint that a bitch. and here comes another fucking lady with some more dogs in a stroller.
i look at Z, i say, “I see this shit and know why they fly planes into our fucking buildings.”
i say that a lot.
what’s better than winning a gold medal at the special olympics…..
psssst i aint proof read shit. so dont say shit.
i was just about to hit my cuz up on the im, see how he was doing, then i remembered a doped up im convo we had many moons ago and i opted not to. it went like this..
d - what up cuz
me - shit chillin, i’m buck naked snorting vicodin watching this jesus documentary.
silence
d- uh so you’re busy. i’ll talk to you later then….
