Ahhh, New Orleans. When I first arrived I questioned the emotional elasticity of the residents to such a horrific event. I was still questioning it when I left. It was the elephant in the room when I rode in the cab to the hotel my first day there. I was quiet and the cab driver was quiet. I wanted to ask about the Hurricane, but I'm sure they had to be exhausted talking about it. It permeated the city.
When the cabdriver finally talked about it, he pointed out the particulars, the "wheres" and "to what extents". I didn't know how to register it. I still don't.
When I was out in the community talking with residents, I got a lot of venom. I understood it, no matter how misplaced. I looked like I was taking pictures and fucking with them. The people on my team, the group of people from the conference that were talking about neighborhood revitalization, were all out being nosy do-gooder muthafuckas. It was a mostly white group that I was in. When this old cat told me I oughta get the fuck away from there, I already wanted to.
Muthafuckas was tired, man. I was tired too. At first drinkin' to be drinkin', and then like I was asking somebody, what if your livelihood depended on acting happy when you weren't? After I thought about it for a minute, I realized it does. So that had me continuing to drink.
I met a lot of cool people from around the country: Spartansburg, New Haven, San Jose, Nashville, Pueblo, Opalinka, Seattle, Louisville, Columbus, Chicago, Miami. A bunch of knowledgeable drunkards.
A lot of people were not so cool. There was a real stuck up contingency at the conference, broads mostly. I understand that, I guess. There's a real "lack of pussy" type smell I'm giving off. They front now, but if I was to shove "Big Fred" up in 'em, they'd be chasing my truck like Rerun during the opening credits of "What's Happenin'?"
Actually they got much better when they saw me with other women in the conference. They got chatty as fuck. Why do chicks do that shit?
I can't say I learned anything at the conference, but I gotta take a test on the principals taught. I learned one thing they didn't teach. These are the last days of this Bodhisattva shit. I'mma about to leave y'all to y'all own devices.
I gotta get over this seafood jones, man. It ain't the same in Satan's Anus.
When the cabdriver finally talked about it, he pointed out the particulars, the "wheres" and "to what extents". I didn't know how to register it. I still don't.
When I was out in the community talking with residents, I got a lot of venom. I understood it, no matter how misplaced. I looked like I was taking pictures and fucking with them. The people on my team, the group of people from the conference that were talking about neighborhood revitalization, were all out being nosy do-gooder muthafuckas. It was a mostly white group that I was in. When this old cat told me I oughta get the fuck away from there, I already wanted to.
Muthafuckas was tired, man. I was tired too. At first drinkin' to be drinkin', and then like I was asking somebody, what if your livelihood depended on acting happy when you weren't? After I thought about it for a minute, I realized it does. So that had me continuing to drink.
I met a lot of cool people from around the country: Spartansburg, New Haven, San Jose, Nashville, Pueblo, Opalinka, Seattle, Louisville, Columbus, Chicago, Miami. A bunch of knowledgeable drunkards.
A lot of people were not so cool. There was a real stuck up contingency at the conference, broads mostly. I understand that, I guess. There's a real "lack of pussy" type smell I'm giving off. They front now, but if I was to shove "Big Fred" up in 'em, they'd be chasing my truck like Rerun during the opening credits of "What's Happenin'?"
Actually they got much better when they saw me with other women in the conference. They got chatty as fuck. Why do chicks do that shit?
I can't say I learned anything at the conference, but I gotta take a test on the principals taught. I learned one thing they didn't teach. These are the last days of this Bodhisattva shit. I'mma about to leave y'all to y'all own devices.
I gotta get over this seafood jones, man. It ain't the same in Satan's Anus.
Peace,
KZ
9 comments:
Soooo Youdidn'thaveagoodtime....lol
You think d*** will get some of the stuck ups to relax. LOL. They alread got ish stuck up in them. First an enema. LOL.
and you didn't complain about the flight either way.
does that mean someone got over their fear of flying?
Not Big Fred! LMBAO!!!
That was sum FUN-TY ASS SHIT!!!! LOL
**imaginging Rerun running after the truck...**
LMBAO again!!!!
@Slish
I had to make my own fun. Seriously.
@Shai
They need to unplug and let it out.
@Miss Ahmad
Oh, hell no! I'm still scared as hell to fly. I gotta fly in a week, so I don't wanna think about it.
I didn't talk about almost getting kicked off the plane in Chicago to Satan's Anus because the plane was overweight. That was some scary shit on that little ass plane. That's only a 21 minute flight.
@Robyn
Those that don't know, don't know. What can a brotha do?
KZ
well practice makes perfect and maybe this will help you on that lay over flight to california:-)
Big Fred, huh? LOL M'kay, I see you, I see you. LMAO
For the record, I haven't flown in years...I'm talking since I was 11. I don't know how I would react when I will have to.
@Miss Ahmad
The idea of flying to California just makes my palms sweat. I'm trying to wrap my mind around it, but DAMN!
@Syn
I guess it's supposed to be safe, but I can't stand the passengers, the weird aircraft noises, or the flight attendants. It sucks!
KZ
i can only imagine what the new orleanians were going through. when the okc bombing happened i was in highschool and the way people flocked and gawked and stalked was beyond RIDICULOUS!!! glad you made it back safely though.. :-)
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