Moms, Don't Let Your Kids Grow Up To Be Crackheads

I was going to update this with more stories about someone mentioned here. Believe me, I have some great material. But I am too tired for that right now. But I was made assure everything I thought was true. Some folks you just cannot trust or believe. But mooooving right along.

I have spent too many years drinking. Now only recently I have been drinking in the house more often then when I go out. I was what you would call a “binge drinker.” Meaning that, when I went out to a bar, I would get so fucking drunk, that when I woke up the next morning, I was surprised my car was in okay condition. Or that, I didn’t have a set of wings and a half of a halo over my head. I should have been dead along time ago. Seriously.

Binge drinking at bars will most definitely allow you to sleep with the boogawolf of the month member, shit, I have had occasions where as I was with the presidents. Shit. I mean, there’s a story about a midget, so why wouldn’t a boogawolf be appropriate as well?

However there are those grand moments when the boogawolf is not your only option. I’ve had many lucky nights. But stories about that don’t sell. People love pain, and I am willing and have a lot to share. I remember once while my car was in the shop, I went to a bar I would frequent after work, when I was taking the bus everyday. Not a bad spot. But, when I went back after about 6 months of being away it was turning into a Mexican bar. It was half and half before, but this time, it was wall to wall Mexicans. And when I looked at the jukebox I saw that most of the R&B songs were gone. I was relegated to listening to Selena and shit. She did have a phat ass though.

So wile I am there, a friend from a job I had years ago and his moms came in. Now the bar changed, but they didn’t. They get fucked up something serious. And when we were all together, it was shitface city. I love those people. So we are there chilling, and a couple of young ladies come in. maybe two years older then I was. One of the chicks just has the saddest face I have ever seen. I am sure when she covered her eyes she was hiding tears. I wish I could turn charisma off sometimes. But hey, the shit seems to ooze out.

So, moms tells me that I should go over to the girl and buy her a drink, and see if I can cheer her up. I do what moms says ya know. Plus I was feeling good, it was Friday, I just got paid, party jumping….
You need to realize there is a Spanish version of Johnny Kemp’s song called; Apenas Conseguido Pagado. I shit you not. Look it up, perhaps.

So, I go over to the young lady and ask her what the issue was and why she looked so sad. Bought her a couple of drinks. Now, this could have gone anyway, because she was having issues with her man or some shit. I don’t normally get involved like that. Seems kind of vulture-ish. However, I was drunk and horny, and it could have been either revenge pussy, or it could have been one of those, “I’m not ready for this yet” pussy. Every time it went the latter route:
Me: Aye barkeep, get the lady another one of them drinks with all the shit in it. Please and thank you. “I am a gentleman and shit ya know”


Bingo, that one did it. Now I had spent all of this time bullshitting, when I could have got her the all of the shit in it drink an hour earlier. I was supposed to roll with my man Rome and his moms, but chick was feeling me, and offered a ride home. Cool right? Hells naw. She had with her cousin, and her cousin’s boyfriend with them, or whatever he was to her. So the shit turned into an even longer night because she was driving, and had to taxi these two fools around town to get shit.

We leave the bar, go wayyyy across town to where I am from originally. Now, uh, this isn’t the type of place that your ass wants to be around at 3am. Just not a good look. So she says she had to get her phone from her sister’s house. Fair enough. I’ll wait for the pussy some more. Shit!

Now, we still have the cousin and her somewhat man riding with us. So I hear them in the back arguing, over what I didn’t know. Turns out that the dude wanted us all to come back to his crib, for some more drinks. I am no longer in shit face city, but now I am in cut a nigga township. This dude had to be like 215 lbs and had that beyonce look in his eye sort of, so wasn’t taking any chances. Looked in the bag, made sure I had my 3 incher. And on that note, I would like to thank Officer Hogan for arresting me a year earlier when his search turned up a big ass knife in my bag. He didn’t buy that whole studying to be a taxidermist bit at all.

The Fuzz: Uhhh Mr. Flav, we are going to let you leave, but you cannot be walking around with a goddamned 6 inch blade. Taxidermists my ass.
Me: Thanks officer, but tell me, just how many inches of blade can I walk around with?
The Fuzz: three inches, why?
Me: No reason, please and thank you.

So, we go into the dude’s house. And damn if it wasn’t the stereotype of the hood. He lived in his momma’s basement. Shit shit shit. I mean the guy had to have me by at least six years. I truly wanted to throw my Malcolm ten glasses on and have a heart to heart with him. But wait the fuck up. Why all dude had in the basement was a 2 inch black and white TV, hanger out the top, a weight bench and a kitchen chair, and a lazy boy with a blanket on it. Assumed that was the bed. The other part of the basement you could tell the sewage tank was probably just fixed or about to break down. What the fuck did I get myself into this time?

I am sitting talking to this chick ignoring them other two, when low and behold I start smelling some strange shit. It was making my stomach hurt it was so nasty. I turn around, and these mutherfuckers are smoking a crack pipe. A gat damned crack pipe, With Actual Crack In It. No, I mean real live crack. Not some soap chips, naw. Crackkkkkkkkkkk. I was looking at these bastards, not with disdain, but amazement. It was like a PBS special. I mean I have seen the shit in action when I was kid on the block and shit, but this was amazing. I stared at them while the transformation took effect. I swear to you, they went ape shit in 7 minutes flat. The two of them was comedy. First the crack dude takes his shirt off, lays down on the weight bench, while ole girl straddles him, and did what had to be 4896782 sets of ten in 3 minutes. And then crack dudette take HER shirt off. Titties everywhere. Just a flopping all around. Now I’m guessing that these two were fairly new to crack. Because she was thick as hell at that time. But I am sitting there in abso fukkin lute amazement. And this is not a lie. The fuckers got up, and started dancing. There was no music. There was no fucking music. There was no fucking music.

I mean, I am bugging at this point. I turn around from the crack head versions of Fredpipe Astaire, and Gingercrack Rogers to talk to ole girl. And I look at her, and I say;


Me: “Yo, do you fuck with that shit too?
Surprise: “HELLLS NAW, FUCK THAT SHIT, THEM NIGGAS CRAZY”
Me: “Oh, aight, lets leave them to this shit, and bounce out of here>
Surprise: “Okay, just give me a couple minutes”


Now, what I cannot show anyone is the look on my face that time. I wish there was a camera around, because SURPRISE!!!!! THE CHICK TAKES OUT TWO BAGS OF HEROIN AND PROCEEDS TO SNORT THE FIRST ONE. I know for a fact that my face at that moment had turned yellow, and I was looking like a yahoo “what the fuck” smiley. Man listen, I wasn’t mad at all, but I just shook my head. Looked back at her snorting the shit. And cracked the hell up. So, of course at this point, pussy is not even on the menu. Matter of fact, at that point I decided that I would jerk off for a month daily, wait. That I would ONLY jerk off for a month daily, because this shit was just too much for me.

Of course, while she snorts the shit, the two in the back of me got in a fight that rivalled Sam Jackson and Halle in jungle fever. She was mad that he kept feeling her tits, and he was mad that her tits were cold. And I think the crack had run out. Awww shit.
So, I'm asking this chick shit. Like, why you fucking with that? You sure you don’t fuck with crack? You be shooting that shit up? Is this nigga behind me going to hit me with a barbell? Does that shit impair your driving? You think she’d let me feel her titi? Can we go now?

Sighs, I put my jacket on, and I’m heading the fuck out laughing my ass off. I look back to see the chick just put her jacket on without her shirt or bra. I got a feeling this night would not be over soon still. Surprise is coming out, and look back to see the other chick, and what the fuck do ya know?! Crackhead Jackson had his pants down and was humping air. Pipealina Jackson called him ignorant, and stormed out pushing us out the way. I never knew what ironic meant in school, but I learned that night.


We finally get in the car, finally. Thank you Jesus, Moses, Muhammad, Budda, Anne frank, and foghorn leghorn. Finally out of the crackopera. Oh shit though. It aint over. LOL. The duke of crack dancing came out, and started bangin on the windows, and the nigga looked like he was crying or some shit. that fast? Shit. So ole girl peels off. We drove in a circle for maybe 10 minutes. Because ladies and gentlemen, the simple bitch was crying uncontrollably. I am trying to calm the bitch down; the chick in the back is mumbling some shit about how you shouldn’t slide down escalators with long hair. Wtf.

We end up at dunkin donuts. I had 3 dollars. I bought surprise a coffee, myself a coffee. I wasn’t going after the pussy at this point, but she deserved a reward for such entertainment in my opinion. So some sobering coffee it is. You just can’t make shit like this up. You just cannot. We get in the car; she backs up and hits this off duty cop’s car. A Lexus. She gets out, starts screaming and crying and goes into her story about her man, and shit. blah blah blah.
The cop gets out, tells her to calm down, it’s okay and for her to just leave. I get out looking at the damage. It was nothing. The cop gets out the car, Officer Hogan. I just walked away and wrote this shit the rest of that night.