You little F..., I got money stacks bigger than you
I was on the empty back seat of a taxi over the weekend, listening to the BBC on the phone radio because all the other stations suck. Outside, a young boy was was being dropped off at the stage by his mommy.
He was around nine years old. Clearly one of those kids who grow up to be the sort of person who attends LC 1 meetings. He was dressed in Sunday best: a cream shirt ironed to within an inch of its life, trousers that stopped above the ankles exposing the school socks beneath, and some battered-ass shoes. The whole ensemble was the sort that makes you admire the kid for making the effort if for nothing else.
He had a cob of roasted maize in his hand.
Mommy dropped him off, and he climbed into the taxi, ending up next to me.
He didn’t sit at the other window, he sat right next to me, which was perplexing. I still remember the time I was caught in a taxi from Entebbe with these women who were swankling groundnuts. That means chewing with their mouths open. And talking. It was disgusting. They had peanut-breath. I didn’t want to go through that again.
I cast a glance at the kid, hoping to see him put his maize cob in, I don’t know, his pocket or something. No, he was preparing to dig in.
When he saw me look at him, he— you will now think I am lying, but I swear, even though I tell many lies on this blog, this time it is the truth— the bastard offered me some of his maize.
What the shit! Did this runnynosed rugrat runt think I was "eyeing" his mangy decrepit maize cob? Did he imagine that I was aching inside for a bite of it? That my heart was burning within my chest, that my soul was screaming, that any similar internal disquiet was taking place, and that he needed to assuage this discomfort by offering me a …. What the shit?!
Did this impudent little skidmark really think I could not buy my own personal maize if I felt that there was need?
I wanted to grab a fifty thou from my pocket and slap him in the face with it while snapping, “Look, Lil Bow Wow, I can throw you out of this taxi with just one hand, and then give you return cab fare with the other. You better recognize and act like you know and other phrases that were popular before you were even born! And moreover (extremely offensive and snobbish comment removed by author on second thought)”
I mean, this kid didn’t know my pedigree?
He probably didn’t mean it as an insult, but still, fuck him.
He was around nine years old. Clearly one of those kids who grow up to be the sort of person who attends LC 1 meetings. He was dressed in Sunday best: a cream shirt ironed to within an inch of its life, trousers that stopped above the ankles exposing the school socks beneath, and some battered-ass shoes. The whole ensemble was the sort that makes you admire the kid for making the effort if for nothing else.
He had a cob of roasted maize in his hand.
Mommy dropped him off, and he climbed into the taxi, ending up next to me.
He didn’t sit at the other window, he sat right next to me, which was perplexing. I still remember the time I was caught in a taxi from Entebbe with these women who were swankling groundnuts. That means chewing with their mouths open. And talking. It was disgusting. They had peanut-breath. I didn’t want to go through that again.
I cast a glance at the kid, hoping to see him put his maize cob in, I don’t know, his pocket or something. No, he was preparing to dig in.
When he saw me look at him, he— you will now think I am lying, but I swear, even though I tell many lies on this blog, this time it is the truth— the bastard offered me some of his maize.
What the shit! Did this runnynosed rugrat runt think I was "eyeing" his mangy decrepit maize cob? Did he imagine that I was aching inside for a bite of it? That my heart was burning within my chest, that my soul was screaming, that any similar internal disquiet was taking place, and that he needed to assuage this discomfort by offering me a …. What the shit?!
Did this impudent little skidmark really think I could not buy my own personal maize if I felt that there was need?
I wanted to grab a fifty thou from my pocket and slap him in the face with it while snapping, “Look, Lil Bow Wow, I can throw you out of this taxi with just one hand, and then give you return cab fare with the other. You better recognize and act like you know and other phrases that were popular before you were even born! And moreover (extremely offensive and snobbish comment removed by author on second thought)”
I mean, this kid didn’t know my pedigree?
He probably didn’t mean it as an insult, but still, fuck him.
Comments
you really are hilarious-
I recently read and article in the Wall street journal about how Rachel McAdams is one of the most sought after actresses but she is too busy turning down roles leaving $5M on the table each time.This is just making producers more fascinated with her. Once she flew to Los Angeles for a meeting and after which she headed to a bus stop to take a public bus to her hotel.
And the girl won't even leave her Native Toronto.
And before I forget,I have always thought that commenting anonymously is for pussies.
Shyaa.
Anonymous, you can get a blogger profile without having a blog. I am with Savage anonymous commenting is for pussies.
As for your splutter...splutter.....'pedigree'?LOL times 100!
ROFLOL @ swankling.
All you bozos hitting the anon person chill out. You've all done it before and your ideas were not any lighter.
i could name a few things that would have been gladly taken from a sweet little nine yr old.
(Degstar, you see how I can store beef?)
But seriously, most people posting and blogging are anonymous anyway. Very few of us use our real names.
(Especially those who don't want to sell copies of their springsteen CDs but that's neither here nor there.)
Sometimes I also comment under another name.
However, just to avoid confusion in case anyone else posts anon, use the "other" option and then make up a name.
Anyway. I am going to buy a Corolla next weekend. You will see me.
Also I was probably afraid of him.
And you're correct, the headline IS from a Jay-Z song. Congratulations