The Hate List! It’s Been a Long Time…

Today’s Hate List is brought to you by me. If it seems like I have been gone to long, well I have been. Blame it on me finding love. It’s true; love came in the form of a crack pipe and a lady of the night name Danielle. So as you can tell, I found it a little hard getting to my computer, especially after I sold it. Don’t judge me; my baby deserves the biggest rock she ever seen. But enough about my misadventures, now I am back like Whitney Houston. With that said you might get one Hate List or you might get many list, who “F'” ing” knows. Here is the Hate List!

1. I hate my gay cousin’s punk ass friend who asked me, “Bryans (he ends everything with an “s” it’s not a typo). Bryans do you like carpet or hardwood? Me: “I don’t know, carpet is ok, but hardwood hold up a lot better.” Punkass gay friend with eyes really wide: “I knows that right.” Me: “Bitch you better be talking about flooring”

2. I hate that women fail to realize that the statute of limitation on cheating for men is: when the women is naked in front of us. Sorry that right there is the point of no return.

3. I hate the Black Eyed Peas even more now, not because of the Super Bowl Half-time Show, but because they continue to be regarded as Hip Hop.

4. I hate when I have to go the bathroom really bad (i.e. poop) and I am nowhere near my house. If I am driving, the entire ride home my ass is clinched, left foot pressing down hard on the floor to provide extended re-enforcement. If I am walking home, it is 20 quick steps, 10 slow steps. Whether driving or walking in both situations, once the home is in eye site, there is a mad dash to the front door. And for some unknown reason, I am always ass naked before I reach the top of the steps, except for my socks. Once I hit the toilet it seems like I just made it in a nick of time. I would be sweating and holding my head in exhaustion then when I notice the socks take the off to complete the feel.

5. I hate the fact that I tend to be a bitch ass sometimes. For example, instead of teaching my son how to fight, I teach him the best shortcuts home.

6. I also hate that my bitchassness puts my son in harm’s way. For example, one day outside with my son, this guy was riding down my street exceeding the speed limit. So as he rode by, I yelled, “SLOW DOWN BITCH!” He heard me so he stopped, got out of his car and said Who the “F” you talking 2. Me: (paused) then I ran to my house, I actually beat my son in the house. I had to go back and open the door for him.

7. I hate I forgot about Black History month. That is because, first they put the Super Bowl in the first week of February and for the next week after the Super Bowl we talk about the game. Then we get ready for Valentine’s Day. Ignoring the heritage that laid the foundation for the privileges that we have today. Then after Valentine’s Day we are consumed with being in the dog house or being in the house because of the winter blast outside our doors. Finally, when we realize it, the month is over because 28 (or if it is a leap year) 29 days can go by so fast. The Jewish community never forgets. The Anglo Saxons never give up on their past. Why should you?

8. Dear Black Community, What happen to us? For so long we have been slowly transforming or morphing into what society have deemed us. What do we stand for? Do we recognize who we are? Who are we? Why are we so lost? When the fuck will we wake up? I am growing older and more tired of the antics, politics, stupidity, ignorance, and disrespect from us and our children. With this said, I still love us. You and all your downfalls. Me and my downfalls. By design the Black Community has always been followed by everyone else. Now it is time to lead in the fashion which we were designed to. Men, we need to learn how to become leaders again. Women you need to learn humility again. Children you need to learn how to imagine again. Family we need to learn how to be one again. We all need to learn shame. Because we should be ashamed of what we have become.

9. I hate the soap shavings that were sold to me instead of my lovely, precise rock of crack.

10. I hate that love made me stop hating for some time. Now I am back. And I hate Danielle crackhead ass for failing to tell me that she was or is a crackwhore. I love that damn woman.

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