Why you think these mothas fuckas always tryin ta bring up the past?
Fuck the past!
My Black broke ass can't do shit bout that shit!
Now if ya wansta pass a playa a lil some'in, some'in, playin the victim? Shiiiiiought!
You ignant Black motha fuckas! You!...
Fuck!
And me!...
(Peace! More to come...)
There's somethin there playa! Somethin...that sounds the fuckin same for some damn reason!
Can't quite grasp it!
But the sound...the mood...the feel...somethin?...
Shit!...
(Peace! More to come...)
Playas and Playess'!
If yo sorry Black ass thinkin they singin bout dancin?!
We need to talk!
Seriously!...
(Peace! More to come...)
I loves me some Steve Arrington. And when that motha fucka was with Slave, shiiiiiought! You already know. Slave be jammin, straight up! How can a nigga like me not like a band called: "Slave"? Come ohn naw?!
"Nobody Can Be You" is the first song, yea you read that right, I really listened to the lyrics believe it or not. Before...if the shit had a solid hook, shit had a bad beat! Nigga I'm there! Ya heard may!
But this was the beginning when they didn't wantcho Black ass to sit up there and speak your mind about freedom and love no fuckin mo. Ya feel me?
This was during the time the transition was starting to go towards the negative Black American music that is so pervasive today.
And we won't even talk bout that motha fucka hittin that bass on "Just A Touch Of Love," when he was with Slave! That motha fucka thumbin on that shit, beatin that shit up! Fuck Arrington! That shit is the shit!
I can't skate for shit! Just ain't that type of nigga. But if I could? I'd put some buds in and skate my motha fuckin ass off, rollin down the motha fuckin street! Oh, shit! Be like that old motha fucka that I'm lookin like, with that hat on (but I don't wear hats) goin down the street skatin my ol ass off on "Instagram", like he sure in the fuck did and lookin like he was in peace like a motha fucka! You see that shit?!
I'm thinkin that's some cool ass shit! Go head Ol School! You makin ol motha fuckas like me proud! "Keep on keepin on!" and please...Keep skatin!
You ol motha fucka you...and me!
"Send fire through my spine, just a little bit..."
All I've got!...
(Peace! More to come...)
I don't think they really meant to do it: Can't you just hear the repetitive "AWOLNATION's" score while witnessing (Oh, you ah witness playa! Whether you like the shit or not!) this fetid, putrid Human life?
And I guess I would have to agree with the band's beautiful, yet elegant rapid fire hook:
"So burn it down (burn it down baby burn it burn it down..."
We some absurd, stupid, ignant...motha fuckas!
MC Breed's "Ain't no future in yo frontin" very apropos!
So strike up the match!
And get Our souls ah burnin!...
Shit! Fuck it!
Ya know...
(Peace! More to come...)
The Black American experience is unique like no other! No! Other!
No one gave US a shot! But here Our Black asses still Be! And fuckin free! Understand what it really took to get where Black America was and what We have become? Use yo One of kind energy and tap into that energy filled spirit running all through US and around US... and all you have to do is reach out and grab it! Just reach out!....
You will beg for forgiveness for all of US stupid! Absurd! Human so-called Beings behavior! You'll get on your knees and beg:
Our Father! Just give US One more shot! Please Our Father! Just One more!?...
(Peace! More to come...)
I think the most precious innate abilities of US is the natural overstanding of Rights and motha fuckin Wrongs!
Say what you want to! I don't give a real good shit! Too old and too motha fuckin tired! I sees it as I sees it! Fuck it!
I!
Am!
Me!
Don't know how to be you! Nor do I have enough time to want to learn!
I!
Am!
Me!
God Damnit!
(Peace! More to come...)
Motha fuckas always talkin that bullshit, "Oh, I always got her with me sir! Always!"
And a nigga like me definitely understands! My bad! My Brotha! I totally understand!
A nigga gotsta protect them and themselves! (Oh, shit! I like the way you put that shit playa, themselves? Cut that shit out! Big ups! For real!)
But check it?
"Do you honestly think anyone of them motha fuckas would sale you some bullshit out on the street?! Shit, at a gun-show?! Or at the motha fuckin local gun shop without havin a plan B?"...
No matter how yo Black or white ass wantsta look at it! That's some good ass shit! All my broke Black ass can say is, Yo's a motha fuckess! The most fuckess!
Well Played! And my Black ass may just have to move to Idaho! Based on a Brotha I watch on his website, they just may be the first state to secede. And I say, that's some good shit too! Damn! Straight!
The Fed done sold Our American asses out! And it's high time to protect Ourselves! People talkin that gun bullshit!? The fuck! That ain't gonna get yo motha fuckin sorry ass nothin but shot! And kilted!
Dumb ass! The best thing We have found out to hurt those motha fuckas where it hurts the most, it is not from their bullshit balls (cause most of'em don't have 'em and the ones that did, don't no mo!) but in their God damned motha fuckin pockets! Believe me, research the shit, has humbled 666 billions and sadly counting throughout Our human history....
But anyway I just have to give a shout out to the Lieutenant Governor of Idaho! I didn't see that shit comin! At all! Brilliant! She would scare the shit out of me if I were her political opposition!
Shit the only thing the otha motha fuckin candidate runnin against her could do is: to start a witty nasty campaign against that ass! Some slogan, "that went a lil somethin like this! Hit it!"
"IdaHo? No she's the Ho! IdaHo? No she's the Ho!"...
Oh, It would work playa in times like this! Oh it would work playa! Be a shame but...
I'd still vote for her crazy Ida-'Ho' ass!
Ya know...
(Peace! More to come...)
All I can tell you is like this here. When one has a book, studies that same book extensively; after which one deems as truth, then my Father, it is the truth.
But coming from that same book, you have one that disbelieves in this book that has not only written, about the history, but has witnessed Our same Human history informing US of this cautionary tale, that, we have researched; and seeing it going down the same road, and ain't nobody that matters saying "Stop!" ...that matters....that can actually stop the shit...
The Holy fuck!
Do We really have to go through all this bullshit again?...
And I guess...the only way to really know this life, and I'm speaking in the Biblical sense of course, is to: Fuck it! And I mean, fuck it hard!...
It's just You and Me Sonshine! And a motha fucka now and again from Germany or Austria! But otha than that! It's just You...and lil' ol Me! Well on this here Blog, you can track shit! Why? I guess...for some motha fuckin bullshit like I'm gonna express to yo One and only ass! Ya feel may? I mean I made the blog counter public but that didn't mean the same thing! It was about the one constant that I was getting all over Europe. That's how I knew, wasn't anybody else save for a few passersby now and again making the blog counter tick the way it was. 'Blogger Analytics' done tore you and me a new one because we signed up for it, unbeknownst to our Bloggin asses! But, it is what it is!
"...But let your communication be, Yea, yea; Nay, nay: for whatsoever is more than these cometh evil."
Solid! I'm finally startin ta pick up whatcha layin down Our Father!
And to you my constant through all of this!
Good lookin out! For real!...
(Peace! More to come...)
The fuck kind of hot yous talkin bout? But you see, that's stupid talk! Talk, that's coming from one that doesn't understands a thing of a pepper or two, three, four...
Negro! So, I'm in Big Lots lookin round. Oh, I see this shit on one of the food aisles: Carolina Reaper Hot Sauce. Should have known by the name, usin Hot Sauce at the end should be one's clue. Because once experiencing the shit! Listen! Hot Sauce is: "Frank's Red Hot", "Louisiana", "Tabasco", "Texas Pete", ...this shit here!? Nah playa! This shit ain't none of that bullshit! For real!
Hot sauce my ass! Don't get it twisted, this shit ain't no hot sauce in standardized conditional protocol. This shit is: Insanely Hot Carolina Reapers Sauce! See the difference? It is absurd! You know when you hear these motha fuckas say on these various television cooking shows, "Oh, it's hot! But not insanely so, because Habaneros have that fruity intense heat..." That ain't sayin shit ta me! But afta tryin this shit and some Habanero sauce that I've tried, thinking about the shit hard...I did catch a little sweetness. But this shit here?!
Cha-powee!
The only way I can describe it to you My Dear Sweet Sistas and Brothas is like this: yo Black ass invites niggas ova fo ah get togetha and the non-payin mortgage motha fuckas have the nerves, Not ta know when ta leave! Just chillin' fo free! And all yo Black ass, neva gonna do this bullshit again, thinkin is: "When y'all motha fuckas gonna leave!"
But shit! You invited them!
Ya heard may....
(Peace! More to come...)
There is no one person that populates and disseminates all the information taken in, Like You! You do understand that I would assuredly hope! You have True Lenses based on the information that you are witnessing! Shit, by the way, psychosis notwithstanding. Ya know?...
So, with that information for however long you have owned it to be true, my question is..."The fuck you waitin on!?"
Some type of reward given to a motha fucka whom comes up with easing this human dismal plight?!
Oh, I'm sorry! My old ass forgets fo sho! Please forgive my ol Rascist ass! Thank you!
It is in fact: "All about you!"
So here we are once more....
(Peace! More to come...)
...Fuckin shit! Lying old ass mother fuckers! Dick stared at the phone and the callers name: Thirteen. Dick had seventeen more rings before he had to answer. The cellphone was only used for the purposes of the 'Thirteen.' So the caller was always the last one he had to call! So what the fuck did they want? I'm out bitch! You said it just two-minutes and some change ago! Lyin sacks of shits! Nine rings were left.
"Dick. Listen. You have to answer that phone within three rings okay? Deal." And ol' Kitz was shocked by Dick's response, "That ain't happenin Mister Kitz-Zinger. No, ain't gonna work at all. I'm dropping some logs and the phone is right there. And what, you want to watch me droppin logs while I'm speaking with you Sir?" Kitz started his laugh, and while trying to speak around his laughter, "Dropping logs? Oh, that's a good one Dick? That's marvelous. You're the best. Have I ever told you that Dick?"
"Yes you have Mister Kitz-Zinger," Dick said.
"And I mean it every time I say it Dick! This I mean as truth! Dick! You're the best! Dropping logs?" Kitz-Zinger said affectionately to Dick...
Thinking, with only six rings to go...
(Peace! More to come...)
I ain't got nothin against gays motha fuckas! I say fuck-it chil'! For real!
Cause I'm quite sure, there're some bad motha fuckas in the LGBTQ! Shit did I leave a letter out! Damn! I done lost my train of thought again! We did speak earlier about this age thing? Makes ya forget shit...alrighty then!...Shit! Wasn't going to go where I'm fixin ready ta go, maybe that shit will come back. Hopefully! But for now! Fuck it!...
Everybody always wantsta make things more difficult and shit! But chil' I calls'em like I sees'em! And when ol' Lemon had the nerves ta puff up ta ol' Rogan?!...alls I could thinks chil'! And I'm so sorrys fo this! Lawd please forgive me! Please! Cause you know my heart Jesus!
Okay.
All I's could think of is: That Lemon man, bout ready ta be a dead fruit!
Chil' please!...
(Peace! More to come...)
They're supposed to take Random Samples when they do live videos from the various voting places? Really? You're in Morgan County? Republicans?! Do tell!...
All these damn Think Tanks' give these percentages on various bullshit you don't give two fucks about! And not based on a goddamned thing other than: USERERROR...
(Peace! More to come...)
What's wrong with US? And let me speak from the perspective of growing up around and of course, bein a nigga! So for the purposes of exactness, when I say US, for this vomitous blog, I mean US niggas in this America? Don't chall know nobody like US darky asses! No-fuckin-body! The Moors tore that shit up way back in the day. Nomads my ass! They took over and stayed awhile...then had nerves ta get tired and shit, with their Black asses, of their surroundings, say ta one and all, "Y'all ready ta take ova some more shit!"
Them Black motha fuckas made it bad for all US!
White, brown, yellow...pick your poison motha fuckas, what the Moors did to those motha fuckas in their Mother country a millennium or more ago. Fuck that got ta do with US? You got countries to this day that can't get enough pork cause the Moors did not allow it to be consumed. When and afta they took ova their shit! Research The Moors? Please!
Oh, you already did? Some bullshit wasn't it! Nothin of substance?! You say? Oh, that just can't be!
Oh, it be playa! It be!
Shit no motha fuckin culture on this firmament likes Our Black asses! No motha fuckin culture or religion, save for Muslims (The Moors), like Our Black asses for that matter of...fact!?
Every religion has its day! Every single one of them have had their given day in the Son! And the religion that is Up now will soon meet its pre-destined downfall somewhere down this road of life apiece. Fuckin 'Farmer's Almanac' for the human culture and shit! Never fuckin fails until... it stops growing!
Motha fuckas wanna burn books, missile libraries, shut down the Internet (Oh, it's comin playa! It's comin...)...whateva the case may be? But always rememba,
"Yo shit's only for a motha fuckin season! And ya still fuckin it up fo erbody again!"
Next!
(Peace! More to come...)
...Dick hit the End button on the cellphone. He hit stop on his car stereo. And listened to the silence of his vehicle. "Wait three minutes to decompress, then everything is fine."
He looked at the cellphone again 9:26 PM, the screen informed him. He went into the Timer section and started the stopwatch, set it to '3:00' minutes.
He just waited and thought. And after one minute a smile started forming on his face, that he hadn't experienced in some 23 years of serving the country in one capacity or another. He thought like all the rest of the time that he wanted to get as far away from this shit as he could have possible could get, it would be difficult to walk away.
But the time had come. He thought some more and listened to nothing and everything...then the cellphone rang and he looked at it, and realized what he was informed was in fact correct, to wait three minutes, because one second into the third minute he looked at the name and the dreaded: Thirteen; was the caller...
(Peace! More to come...)
There'll never be a time like now! Ever! In all human history because we are making history right the fuck Now! And people don't appreciate that shit, how all of US are here as a witness Now! Humbling, to say the least.
You have Christians right the fuck Now, scared shitless about this here COVID. Christians did I say? Yes! You read that right, Christians. We have become some hopeless motha fuckin ungrateful heathens!
'Fuck the Father! Fuck God! Fuck all that religious bullshit Now! I wantsta live chil'!'
Uhm!
Two more tests, then Prophesy will be complete!
Then the uproar of wailing and gnashing of teeth shall commence amongst many, forthwith.
Shame before Our Father!...
(Peace! More to come...)
...Time to make that call. He hit repeat on his car stereo, turned the volume down a wee bit..."I don't believe in fate/no psychic vision..."
"Dick?" Kitz-Zinger asked.
"Sorry Mister Kitz-Zinger. I know it's late but I've got bad news..." Dick said.
"Don't tell me! The O-K is not Okay!," Kitz-Zinger paused to let out joviality of the Roi est Mort! Or soon to be. "Still listening to the same song I hear. Bad?"
"Uh! Bad to the thirteenth power Sir!" Dick joked, and not, with ol Kitz and Kitz picked up what he was layin down. Dick liked Kitz
"You have always cracked me up Dick! You're the best! We'll take care of Mr. O.K. Kay," Kitz-Zinger tried to ring off.
"Mister Kitz-Zinger! With all do respect may I respectfully resign and bring along another to serve?"
"Of course Dick! You have been good...Dick! You have Our blessings. And please bring along this young Man you speak! He will serve US well also. Goodbye Dick. And Thanks." Kitz-Zinger rang off...
(Peace! More to come...)
We boys right?
Yes. We are boys.
Ya see that's what I'm talkin bout! She said, "I do!" not, "I don't!" The fuck wrong witchou playa!
Life.
The fuck nigga! We's all goin through that shit motha fucka! What? Can't handle it?! Oh, you poor thing, you are more sensitive than others...
The fuck you want nigga?!
"A fuckin cookie!?"...
(Peace! More to come...)
...Dick knew the ins and outs. The roundabouts in the White House. He never had any title. The only one that didn't wear a name badge or had to...ever. He was that type of nigga. Straight up! In The White House! He was witnessed ta tell ya:
"Check it. I come to the dough, ya know, the security bullshit? Start goin through it, shit goin off, that ain't my fuckin business. Y'all should know! I mean fuck it! Or at the very least find out soon motha fuckas if stopped?! And what the motha fuckin nigga do? Braced my ass! You betta recognize! Then I hear the other Capitol policemen say to this one in front of me, "Yo Ty! He cool man!" Ty, I would guess understood somethin in the otha Brothas voices ta make this Brotha understand, "Warning nigga! You ready to loose yo job fo doin what they told you to do for every Goddamned body?! Really? Your choice?.."
And Ty with the utmost professionalism said to Dick, "I'm so sorry sir. I just started I'm just not familiar with you. But they said everybody; so I guess you are one of the exceptions. So in the future can you just tell me your name so I will at least know your name for my superiors?"
Dick liked him. He didn't know why. They're weren't too many young Black men trying to do the right thing civilized as The Capitol Police Officer surely was trying to do.
Dick said deadpan, "Dick. And no jokes." And the Capitol Police Officer couldn't contain himself, and the CPO laughed a genuine good laugh. Dick liked him fo sho.
And Dick knew instantly The White House needed someone like this young man in its fortress. To hold it down for the rest of US. Cause as far as he was concerned in about six weeks? This motha fucka be ghost...
(Peace! More to come...)
...think about the nigga last names you have heard throughout Our lives: Samuel L. Jackson; Rafer Johnson; Magic Johnson; Jesse Jackson; Van Jones; Al Sharpton; Denzel Washington; Martin Luther King; Malcolm Little; Michael Jackson; Michael Jordan...My Black Ass: Meredith Hopson. You see? Are pieces at least starting to form? And when they do.
The most frightening epiphany will finally come to the fore:
It has always been with the niggers mind you! Puttin up with their ungrateful nigger shit! To be able to say to the other breeders:
"You see! Now that's part of my niggers! Damn it!"...
(Peace! More to come...)
I'll give you a POP! What is POP? Point of Ponder. Any Black American should research their given last name. Once you start researching the shit you find the true origin of the slave trade and of the Genesis of this here Black America.
And more than surprised You may be about the Truth turning this Eden to a sho nuff shithole? Hopefully. Indulge me this one time. While you still have the information out there to do so. Come ohn naw?! POP, bka, The Father/GOD...Shiit! "Ain't nothin new! Only the playas involved!"
And you finally start overstanding: Who Massa really Is and Was.
Black Americans are the only living Truth to what really transpired in this America. What better way to deal with the truth that you do not want to deal with anymore, then to:
get rid of the Truth...
(Peace! More to come...)
"Defund the police!" The fuck!
And what they s'posed ta do now when a nigga gets out of sorts? Like Private Frost said in the solid movie "Aliens,":
"...And what are we supposed ta use now? Harsh language!?"
Now you and my Black asses know that shit ain't gonna work! At-the-fuck-all! Cause in the Black community, Our shit is replete with ignant hard headed motha fuckas.
And my Blue ass just may have ta tap yo sorry botherin ass just a lil...or a lot...your choice mind you? So what's it gonna be?...
(Peace! More to come...)
Pop two 1000mg of Milk Thistle. Wait 30 minutes.
Imbibe with your favorite alcohol beverage. Use throughout the function or at home, PRN.
"You're welcome!"
(Peace! More to come...)
What motivates You? That's all it's about! You! Ain't that the shit now? You Boo?...
Then after that; you have to start understanding the fact, if that is in fact your truism? Because if it is Sonshine...yo shits fucked! For real!
How can a sentient being think more of one, than the other sentient being? Cause you have been conditioned, in fact, you are? Status? Conditioning of the mind?...
After it is all said and done, didn't you say, "It's all about you?"
And what be you?...
(Peace! More to come...)
...He used to be a Major Gunnery Sergeant way back in the day when shit meant shit. Dick had enough of this bullshit. When they coined the phrase, "Shit rolls down hill!" They weren't talkin bout shit. If ya didn't understand it befo.
Shit is, what the Neither-Wells have to deal with, though you don't give a good shit bout their social upper-environment.
'Socialites,' he thought now that they called them. It made him smile even ta this day how absurdly stupid the 'so-called' upper class had no idea what motivated which they are tryin to control and failing miserably? Stupid fucks!
All that money...and fucking dumb son! Shame fo Our Father!
As he hit repeat on Young the Giant's, "Superposition."
That call can wait one more round! As he drifted...
(Peace! More to come...)
...He heard the eleventh, "Make the call!" And what the twelfth motha fucka do?
"Well what's wrong?"
Usually My Dear Sweet Sistas and Brothas it is clean. No problems whatsoeva! Easy money. Yao Ming?
"Do yo job nigga ta the best of your abilities and they can't fire you. That's all Son!" Dick's Father's Rah-Rah Speech!
He had found out that's some rhetorical bullshit! His Father was speaking about Men, that had morals. Men, that their word was bond...I remember that Daddy! And a whole lot more! And...this ain't right! And you's a lie!
Now! Now?! You's a lyin motha fucka Daddy! For real! Things sho nuff change!
You didn't tell me bout that!?
You motha fucka! You said Daddy. "Rules are rules! The law is the law!" Ain't that what you said? He was thinking as he made the twelfth...
And when the motha fucka had the nerves ta let come out of his fuckin mouth: "Well what's wrong?"
And he repeated with a three count beat in between the numbers, he repeated himself, "Nine-One-One!" Then the twelfth motha fucka got it! Yes! You dirty motha fuckas! You!...
"Make the call please, Dick! Dick please make the call!" And Dick started singing an ol Michael Jackson hook, "She's outta my....life!" Fuck it! I'm Free!...
This is a cautionary tale fo sho! Shit ain't eva been that easy! Eva! But he and 'Young The Great', all the same, and sang right along with the motha fuckin song, "Superposition." Oh, yes he did My Dear Sweet Sistas and Brothas!
Before he had to make that one time call! Then he'd be free!...
(Peace! More to come...)
...Well Dick knew there weren't that many calls.
But he was hoping he would only have to dial thirteen. When his ass gotsta Thirteen...Shiiit! He was here ta tell ya!
My Black ass don't has nothin ta do with this shit now! And I'm outta of this bitch afta this! If, I can make it ta Thirteen...
(Peace! More to come...)
"Well shit Dick we can't keep them like this forever," Beiden suggested.
"Why not?! We've gottem' by the balls now! Trumps negated for the next four years! Fuck'em! They're primed! And you will go down in history! Why in the fuck should we release the grasp?" Dick asked.
"Because we are all Americans, Dick! We are all Americans! Damnit!" Beiden said.
Dick couldn't get ahold of himself fast enough, he busted out laughing right in the President's face. Then he started worrying; then he said with red alert in his voice, "Please tell me it ain't so?! Joe?!"
And when Ol' Joe didn't respond looking out of the fucking window like the old kook that he is. Damn! When Dick righted himself. Dick started making a hellafied amount of cellphone calls cause the credo was forever in an emergency like this,"...and one more thing! No fucking texts allowed, ever! Just make the fucking call!"
Damn! Right bout that! And can do!...
(Peace! More to come...)
So the motha fucka says:
"Just because you have a predisposition to Diabetes, Hypertension...doesn't mean that you are predetermined to obtain the health condition. That's where We in the medical field are getting it all wrong. And I know amongst my peers what I'm going to have to say to keep with my divine devotion, honesty and ethics in tact; I have to be honest, so I must say the 'H' word: Homeopathy.
Homeopathy, in all truthfulness, is going in the right direction; and modern medicine is going in the wrong diection..."
Oh, shit motha fucka with yo dumbass! You just said the 'H' word! Your medical license just been put on hiatus...or indefinite suspension at the very least!
(Peace! More to come...)
...I mean look at it. It's been over nine months and President Kamala Harris hasn't acquiesced. But they were all in a tizzy when they thought President Trump wouldn't succumb to what they knew would be a defeat four years ago. And look at the Democrats now? Soros et al funding that ruse where an innocent American female citizen was shot and killed to take over the capitol to assure President Trump was going to leave the white house when the fake votes were tallied...
Look at the media? What in the world is happening in Our country? Do people forget what transpired less than four years ago? Have we regressed as a society that badly?
I don't think so. Not by a long shot. You keep wanting to get back to the Sheffield reference I made before. That's the problem. I'm not you, a supposed reporter. A researcher. I'm a spokesperson for President Trump. I made that reference to make a point. But here we are again wallowing in mud. Throwing it even. And how does the old saying go, "When you throw mud someone's enviably is going to get dirty?" Or something to that effect? This has got to stop. The truth is the truth Like the old saying goes once more, "What is good for the gander, is in fact good for the goose!" President Harris, You're fired!...
Is President Donald John Trump going to win the election in 2024? Of course. He has the pulse of the people. He doesn't have to kowtow for rich people because he indeed in fact, is rich himself. So when he says something it is from his heart, his introspection.
And to me that speaks volumes about an individuals character, rich or poor. Look at me, I'm broke. I don't have too much money. Just enough to sustain my meager existence. But that's just me. I've never cared about money. But what I do care about is character. I remember Gary Sheffield, an ex-baseball player was criticized about what he believed about a certain subject. And I also remember he was criticized for his beliefs. The subject matter you will have to research yourselves, that is not the topic of the subject aforementioned. But the reporter asked him, "Why now?" And I remember Mr. Sheffield saying something that took me aback; he said, "Why not? I've made my money! I don't have anything to stop me from saying what I want to say. It is what it is."
Touche mon frere Sheffield. I was fond of that man ever since he had spoken those words. And now I'm saying the same thing to you. I am a Black man. And President Donald John Trump says to you, "Why not? I've made my money! I don't have anything to stop me from saying what I want to say. It is what it is."
Now that's...a special character!
Motha fuckas kill my Black ass! Straight up! "When is my ass gettin my stimulus check?!" Nigga! For real? Do you even know the definition of 'stimulus'? You sorry motha fucka you! Yo ass ain't lost a motha fuckin Goddamned thang! For real! Yo Black sorry ass ain't entitled to a Goddamned motha fuckin thang, motha fuckas! You! Whetha they send it ta yo broke Black ass or not! Who gives a real good fuck! Yo sorry Black ass ain't worked fo shit fo that motha fuckin money, Goddamned it!
Just the motha fuckin shit you think you entitled to cause massa tells yo sorry black ass so! Thee fuck!
I gotta a stimulus fo yo broke Black sorry ass: read a fuckin book! An excellent one at that by the greatest Black, or white, author eva: Alexandre Dumas, "The Count of Monte Cristo."
Then motha fuckas! And only then, our asses can have a civilized Goddamned conversation! Shiiiiougt! Otha than that...shut the fuck up! And...wait for it...fuck you boo-boo!
Fuckin Heathens!
And that is...a Beautiful thang My Dear Sweet Sistas and Brothas! Ya know?
Holla!...
(Peace! More to come...)
