4 conversations had at the juvenile detention center on Wednesday:
Conversation 1
Young brother 1: Oh, who dis nigga?! Aye Joe! Who the fuck is you?
Me: Ask me again in a manner I can actually respond to.
Conversation 2
YB 2: Aye man, what dat is on your chest?
Me: a crown
(everyone in the room turns to look at the 1 latino kid – of course the unspoken dialogue ia about whether or not it’s a Latin King claim being made by my crown)
Me: why y’all all lookin at him?
(silence)
YB 2: Yo lemme see the whole thing
Security Guard: it would probably be inappropriate for him to take off his shirt here
(2 beats of silence)
YB 2: Aye lemme see that crown nigga
Me: Brother, for reals I’m not taking off my shirt
Conversation 3
YB 3: Aye Joe, you ever been locked up?
Me: No.
YB 3: you ain’t never done NO time?!
Me: never
YB 3: (more incredulous) NEVER?!
Me: No
YB 3: How the fuck you so swole den?!
(I fall out laughing)
Conversation 4
YB 4: yo, you be fuckin with dat UFC fighting
Me: you mean like actually fighting?
YB 4: yeah, like MMA shit.
Me: nah dawg. Why you ask?
YB 4: you look like you could fuck a nigga up!
Me: Once, maybe. But I’m too old for people to be hitting me in the face
YB 5: No Homo, but I could picture you in them little ass shorts fuckin a nigga up!
Me: (slowly) so… did you just say No Homo AND you can picture me in little ass shorts?
YB 5: yeah. But for real, you know what I mean?
Me: I’m afraid I do
*dead*
May I add that sandwiched among all these conversations, these boys, only one of whom will claim to be a writer, are writing the sickest battle-rhymes ever. Their images are sick, including the line where kid says: “…I got a long knife, you’ll get a long slice / no Kimbo / the AK ha you leaning back like limbo.” Of course all the rhymes are about killing dudes then fuckin they girl, but you know, for right now, I’m glad they want to participate. That is not a given with every session.
Conversation 1
Young brother 1: Oh, who dis nigga?! Aye Joe! Who the fuck is you?
Me: Ask me again in a manner I can actually respond to.
Conversation 2
YB 2: Aye man, what dat is on your chest?
Me: a crown
(everyone in the room turns to look at the 1 latino kid – of course the unspoken dialogue ia about whether or not it’s a Latin King claim being made by my crown)
Me: why y’all all lookin at him?
(silence)
YB 2: Yo lemme see the whole thing
Security Guard: it would probably be inappropriate for him to take off his shirt here
(2 beats of silence)
YB 2: Aye lemme see that crown nigga
Me: Brother, for reals I’m not taking off my shirt
Conversation 3
YB 3: Aye Joe, you ever been locked up?
Me: No.
YB 3: you ain’t never done NO time?!
Me: never
YB 3: (more incredulous) NEVER?!
Me: No
YB 3: How the fuck you so swole den?!
(I fall out laughing)
Conversation 4
YB 4: yo, you be fuckin with dat UFC fighting
Me: you mean like actually fighting?
YB 4: yeah, like MMA shit.
Me: nah dawg. Why you ask?
YB 4: you look like you could fuck a nigga up!
Me: Once, maybe. But I’m too old for people to be hitting me in the face
YB 5: No Homo, but I could picture you in them little ass shorts fuckin a nigga up!
Me: (slowly) so… did you just say No Homo AND you can picture me in little ass shorts?
YB 5: yeah. But for real, you know what I mean?
Me: I’m afraid I do
*dead*
May I add that sandwiched among all these conversations, these boys, only one of whom will claim to be a writer, are writing the sickest battle-rhymes ever. Their images are sick, including the line where kid says: “…I got a long knife, you’ll get a long slice / no Kimbo / the AK ha you leaning back like limbo.” Of course all the rhymes are about killing dudes then fuckin they girl, but you know, for right now, I’m glad they want to participate. That is not a given with every session.
2 Comments:
My fave phrase is "how you so swole?"
That's my new mantra in the gym— Time to get swole!
Glad to see ya bloggin here again, brotherman.
I'm glad you were there for them. That's God's work. My mom used to teach sculpture @ a FL state pen.
I'm with Oscar on the fave phrase tho'....
:no sucio:
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