Ninja Please.

'Oh shit!

Dat nigguh done ate a whole bag o' Oreos! Move it move it move it!'

And the blood flows from your brain to your stomach to handle dat shit.
And y'all know what dat meeans: system shut down. Black folk call it niggeritis,
The Japanses call it nijaritis...Ninja please.

Wutta Disasta Hole!

What's this?

Wutta distasta hole!

Welcome home
To the zone
Seeped deep down to the bone
Where you've cloned the rows you've sown
To keep your dome from gettin' grown
Hey
To each his own...

Montreal weather's like a schizophrenic girlfriend.

So it's been awhile snce I went out on the town. I suppose the weather tunred me into a hermit. Montreal weather's like a schizophrenic girlfriend. I think we forget ourselves when the weather takes over. When it ain't sunny, neither are we. It's incredible how rain can affect one's attitude.

I love rain. But I think it's a gyp when there's no thunder or lightning. When you were a kid your parents had an explanation for just about everything and when there was thunder & iightning you were probably scared at one point. What'd mommy say to her little white kids? 'Oh that's just God bowling and his wife taking pictures with a flash.'

What did a Black momma say?

'God's just washin' the stank mutha fukkuhs off the street.' No explanation for the thunder or the lightning, just the rain. And that's all you had to work with. When you're poor and stressed out, all your imagination skills are commandeered for survival techniques. Makin that bowl a chili last a week. Collectin bottles to buy a quart of milk. Sewin different ripped up shirts into one. I'd get ridiculed by all the kids for a shirt made of three. Even the sleeves weren't the gawtdamn same. Nowadays it's in fashion. Ahead of my time. Again!

What was survival for the poor back in the day has become the delicay of the privileged. I bet your boss over at the Office knows more slang than I do.

The Hole You Can't Fill

9 to 5
Times 5
Take a deep breath and dive
In this sea of mediocrity that blankets his hive
A living lie
Powered by the hour by the toils of you and I
2 out 7 days reserved to feel alive...

If you're a guy, you ain't neva bought no plant!

Plants are incredible creatures. All they need is water dirt & sun. Water, dirt and sun! That's it! Okay and maybe a little bit of love. Now you buy the plant, the dirt's taken care of. All you gotta worry about is the water and sun. you put the plant next to a window, the sun's takin care of business, so all you gotta worry about is the water.
Chances are, if you're a guy you ain't bought no plant. Your girlfriend momma or sister bought that shit for you. Chances are if you are a guy and hava plant it's a cactus.

Most guys I know don't have plants.

Dirt and sun is doin they job, so why can't you get your water on? Every place I know gotta tap. But plants are resilient bastards. If you ain't givin them no liquid love they downsize. Inside the plant it’s like:

“Captain we ain't gettin enough nutrients, dirt's turn to sand, three stems is dried the fuck out, we lost the flower on the west side, wutta we do?”
“Gawtdamn! That nigguh can take a shower for half an hour, but we can't get a cup of dat good shit? Retreat! Pull it in boys!”

And they be droppin leaves like your fingers get cold in the winter. When stress comes plants cut they losses. Damn, if humans were designed like that I'd be in a fuckin wheelchair right now.

I'm fired?

Plop!

There go my arm.

Evicted?

Plop!

There go my leg.

Your last boyfriend was...better?

PLOP!

There go my dick.