BLOW IT OUT YOUR ASS!!!
At the request of Sarabellem and Cynicism Unbound I am posting the following:
I am starting to find out what summer here in the Stevens Community is going to be like: LOUD!! My very first night in my third floor apartment back in February was an eye-opener. I was bruised and battered and beaten down by the move itself and by a stupid, draining fight between my good friend Wicca and I and was finally ready to hobble to bed. I shut off Mindy Smith and burped from eating too much at the celebratory dinner at Red Lobster with The Nurse and Math-girl and the second the silence enveloped my apartment and my soul for the first time that night I heard: “BLOW IT OUT YOUR ASS!!!” on the street below. Shocked and insulted I limped to the window and looked three floors down to the street. A domestic was going on. I caught the tail-end of it. There were squealing tires and a woman stormed into a nearby building and slammed the door.
The other day, bruised and battered after another day of working for The Man I had just sat down in front of my DVR’d episode of “Queer Eye” when I heard the following ensue, clear as day: “BITCH, I’m aboutta LEAVE yo slow ass!!” “Muthafucka you KNOW I got the fuckin BABY! I don’t know why yo ass wants to go to the sto' when you KNOW I ain’t got my fuckin check yet!!” There was something about putting the baby in the front seat so that she could drive and then: “Naw FUCK THAT!! You KNOW I ain’t gonna sit in the back seat in my OWN FUCKIN RIDE!” Doors slam. Tires screech. The end.
Ahh, the sounds of summer in Murderapolis!
I am starting to find out what summer here in the Stevens Community is going to be like: LOUD!! My very first night in my third floor apartment back in February was an eye-opener. I was bruised and battered and beaten down by the move itself and by a stupid, draining fight between my good friend Wicca and I and was finally ready to hobble to bed. I shut off Mindy Smith and burped from eating too much at the celebratory dinner at Red Lobster with The Nurse and Math-girl and the second the silence enveloped my apartment and my soul for the first time that night I heard: “BLOW IT OUT YOUR ASS!!!” on the street below. Shocked and insulted I limped to the window and looked three floors down to the street. A domestic was going on. I caught the tail-end of it. There were squealing tires and a woman stormed into a nearby building and slammed the door.
The other day, bruised and battered after another day of working for The Man I had just sat down in front of my DVR’d episode of “Queer Eye” when I heard the following ensue, clear as day: “BITCH, I’m aboutta LEAVE yo slow ass!!” “Muthafucka you KNOW I got the fuckin BABY! I don’t know why yo ass wants to go to the sto' when you KNOW I ain’t got my fuckin check yet!!” There was something about putting the baby in the front seat so that she could drive and then: “Naw FUCK THAT!! You KNOW I ain’t gonna sit in the back seat in my OWN FUCKIN RIDE!” Doors slam. Tires screech. The end.
Ahh, the sounds of summer in Murderapolis!
posted by Shakycam | 1:35 PM
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