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120 Hours

I haven’t blogged in 3 months. I hadn’t been in the mood to write and I felt like I haven’t had anything funny to write about. The recent tragedy in Louisiana with the flooding put things into perspective for me. I have a homeboy who was affected by this and when I checked on him he said he just needed a pick me up. And I know a blog post isn’t much of anything but hopefully I can give him and anyone else who needs it a good laugh or 2 and bring their spirits up. That’s why I write. So here we go, hope you laugh.
Twas the first semester of my senior year of college. I had a good relationship with my professors in my major courses as did most of my fellow students but this particular semester they decided to just throw the biggest monkey wrench they could find and toss that shit into the plans of me graduating on time.

They hired this new professor, he was from the Bahamas and got his PhD from Cornell or one of those bougie ass schools. The man wanted a paper and presentation about every damn thing we talked about and at the time I just wasn’t mentally prepared to be the student he wanted me to be in order to get a BET original movie made about his story starring Clinton Powell and Keith David. (names don’t ring a bell? Google em, you’ve seen em)

So this new professor came on campus with a syllabus and lesson plan written with Joe Jackson vibes. Nothing was gonna be good enough for this guy. Let’s call him Ho Clark. Sorry I can’t be more creative at the time.

So I struggle through the whole semester. Towards the end, I took it upon myself to give me a day off from his class. And I also took it upon myself to put my foot in my own ass cause the day I missed was the same day this man decided to have everyone pick their groups for the final projects and whoever was not in class that day, or did not get chose was in a group.

So it was me, the 6th year senior, the dude who always came to class with a red eyed hangover, and the guy who was a lil slower than everyone else but always received a pat on the back for his efforts.

And to add insult to injury, when I came to class the next day, he’s reading off the list of groups and I was hoping that the guy who I thought was my homie, Durty Vert from my previous blogs, would’ve looked out for me and add me to his group but he played me. So he reads off all the groups and then says “and the last group, that I put,together due to absences arrrrreeee”

*a collection of shit eating grins immediately turn my way*

I sit there and look at the ceiling, ready to accept my fate. I’m in the group with(in order of their descriptions above)  Boris Hellnoe, Taye Niggs, and Aubrey FLAKE Graham (boy had immaculate dandruff).

The first part of the project was to open a restaurant in the next town, research the target market, wants, needs. And some other BS. 

The name of the town is Colonial Heights. We interviewed the manager of the local McDonald’s who was not ashamed to be black and let us know “I’m the manager of a MacDonalds in the whitest damn town around, why the hell you think they call it Colonial Whites?”

That’s real.. I appreciate it.
So me and Taye were in the library putting together a presentation about this struggleraunt we finna open. Boris and Flake are off.. Being off. 

We’re brainstorming on the project, bouncing ideas, he’s a pro at photo editing so he was gonna make the logo and such. I was writing everything out. His phone goes off.

Taye: *looks at phone* Uh oh, cheeeba cheeebaa!

Me: you tryna smoke now? Ween finish nothing!

Taye: look bruh, just write the intro, I’ll take care of everything else, I gotta go.
And like a sucka… I believed him.

So we’re in class… I’m ready for him to tell me he had nothing and we gotta wing it. But he had it! So we go up there ready to present. 

I introduce myself to the class, he uploads the power point, my back is facing the screen. 

Me: My name is Mr. Belafonte these are,my team mates. We were given the task of opening a restaurant in Colonial Heights, we had to research the population and target market and we found that locally, people refer to it as Colonial Whites because of population. *looks at the screen*

This man has an american flag, and the background of fuckin trailer parks and pickup trucks as the logo and the words on the backdrop say “Colonial Whites, we’ll get ya right!”
Me: and this…. Nigga… Named the restaurant Colonial Whites and he will now take over while I go cry about something other than this L I’m taking.

I’m not 100% sure about how the whole presentation went because once I saw the professors face frown up the sight of the logo I closed my eyes and kept singing “Rain on me” by Ashanti as I go down with this ship. I do remember him going over the menu and I heard “we have corn dogs cause white people love corn dogs”. 

Me: RAAAIIIIINN OOOONNN MEEE LLLAAAAAWWWWWDDD WON’T YOU TAKE THIS PAIN FROM MEEEEEEEE

When I open my eyes this Nigga had the nerve to say “Any questions or comments?”
BRUUUUUUHHHHH.
The way Dr. Clark repeatedly called us ignorant I just felt like I was standing in front, blindfolded, whole classroom got guns.
So Professor Clark gives us the 2nd part of our project that’s like 800% of our final grade. We had to pick a state, pick a hotel to for accommodations for all the needs of sports fans… I think.. I still don’t know. I remember we chose Texas for whatever reason. 

I stayed up all night writing a rough draft of everything I think this man needs just to see if I’m on the right track. I put my heart into this draft. I made a whole pot of coffee, put it on ice, chugged it, booboo’d my life away and went to class. I showed it to him. 

Dr: No no no, Mr. Belafonte this is all wrong, you need to figure out your market, interests, average age, likes dislikes, wants, state birds, fruit, drop out rate, and Bun B’s social security number.

Me: Do I really need a degree?
So I go to the rest of my classes, meet with the group tell them everything he wanted and assigned topics. 
48 Hours. No sleep.

I go back home to rewrite it on top of everything else I have to do for school. Make another pot of coffee, chug it, booboo my life away, go to my 8am Bio class. I walk in at 8:10 And all the desks are spread out.. Why are they spread out? Cause this is the final exam. And the only thing I know is Bun B’s social security number, and the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. 

I’m pretty sure ima let Dr. Clark down so I can’t bomb 2 classes so lemme sit in the back pull my phone out and see if Google can gimme a B.

So while I’m cheating my ass off my stomach feels crazy. It wasn’t like I gotta use the bathroom pain it was just a pain. So I ask my bio professor if caffeine has an effect on your stomach.

Bio professor: oh yea it eats away at the lining your stomach.
Safe to say I have no lining on my stomach… Stomach just raw.
I show my professor what I have so far.

Clark: You’re kinda getting there, you need Dirk Nowitzki’s 3 point average in elementary school and Jerry Jones’ lineage and some other things but keep going.
Me: I WILL be a statistic.
Flake came over my house to write his part.. He fell asleep halfway through while I’m shorting out my computer by crying over the mf. 

Made another pot of coffee cause fuck a stomach lining. Chugged it. Peed Folgers. Went to class
72 Hours. No sleep.

By this time I’m hallucinating. I saw monkeys run across the interstate on my way to class. I tried to talk to someone and all I could do was mumble.
I met with Dr. Clark one more time and When he asked me what my problem was I couldn’t speak because I had a lump in my throat.

Dr: Mr.Belafonte if you don’t have anything to say I have a meeting to get to.

Me: I just… I don’t… *Derek Luke tears*

I don’t know what you want… And I’ve wrote 4 pages every night and it’s not right. And I don’t wanna be in college anymore cause of this project and they hiring at Food lion distribution. I don’t know where those monkeys came from on i95 And the news ain’t say anything about them missing and now I’m sad cause they got unclaimed chimps in Petersburg.

Dr: Mr. Belafonte calm down… Get it together… I’ve seen you’re dedicated and,it’s admirable. Just tell me how many minutes Mike Jones uses  on his phone plan since his he gave his phone number out, and you’ll be on the right track. No go to the restroom and clean yourself up.

Me: *looks in the bathroom mirror* I still don’t know shit… *boo hoos*

Flake sent me his paper so I go into the computer lab to look over it…. Ain’t a complete sentence in these 4 pages. 

I’m screaming into my hands, cussing his ass out. He not there im just venting.

This girl speaks up.

Girl: Teddy,you not right, like I feel like you going in on him you know how he is, don’t be mean.

Me: I’m not being mean, I’ve been working with him about this and all I want is a damn page of something correct. This man has an entire page of shit with red and green lines under them do you know what that means? That means that out of 4 pages this man has one whole page, 250 words that a damn computer program just can’t understand. And he’s ok with that.

So I stay up and fix my paper, and his… Drink another pot of coffee. Booboo’d coffee beans… And went to class.
96 Hours. No sleep.
I was actually very content with my life because I knew I would be admitted to an asylum before the paper was due so everything is ok. I didn’t bother talking to Dr. Clark because at this point fuck him. The paper was due tomorrow and we decided that he was gonna get whatever we had.

I go home, stay up and write my paper and edit Flakes final draft. Drink a pot of coffee. Trim the coffee bean plant in my toilet bowl. 

I turn the paper in and pray that Dr. Clark either gets fired or goes back to the Bahamas for good. 
I slept for 16 Hours. The semester was over. Boris finally pops up and gives me a phone call.

Boris: Aye bruh… Guess what… Dr. Clark said our shit was so bad he had no clue what anybody was talking about and couldn’t find a grade low enough to give us so he gave us C’s and quit.
That’s cool with me. Class of 2011 HOE!
To my brother in Louisiana I hope this raises your spirits a bit. To anyone going through this I’m praying for you and I love you.

Until next time folk!

The Mother’s Day Massacre

Happy Belated Mother’s Day to all of the mother’s out there you are greatly appreciated and I hope it was shown. Nooooooowwwww let’s get to the foolishness.

This Mother’s Day I was out of town with the BM and kids and her gift was late shipping and i, unfortunately have yet to receive it. So I bought flowers the night before but I had to do more to compensate. I figured I could at least make it so she didn’t have to be knee deep in Huggies the whole day so I was on diaper duty. JoJo was actually lenient on his pops. Just a bunch of wet diapers nothing crazy the whole 2 hour trip home. Once we got home I went out to pick up some dinner for us.

Earlier throughout the day I was thinking to myself “You always see those pictures of babies who had crazy diaper blowouts and had crazy colored booboo going up their backs and Jo made it 15 months so far without going crazy.. I have a good baby.”

So you know where I’m going with this story.

Once I return from hunting and gathering I walk in to JoJo doing his usual living room shuffle while saying “Hey DaDa, Hey DaDa”

I’m on my way into the room and this awful stench hits my nose. Does the garbage need to go out?! Is JoJo being weirdly defiant today and dropping deuces on the carpet?! I can’t find the source.

Then the source waddles past me shouting “Aaaayyyyeeee baaayybeeeeee” I look as he walks by annnndddd Pastor Hershey Thomas is making an appearance all the way to the middle of his back. This is my nightmare.

I had to get my HAZMAT suit and prepare the bathroom for this catastrophe so I threw him in his playpen.
When I changed him, I opened his onesie and up front is a whole nother party… He got Jackie Joyner Hershey running up past his belly button.

So I’m standing there, tears in my eyes, trying to figure out how I’m gonna topple this U shaped shit formation and keep my son from grabbing his smothered wee wee, chewing his fingers afterwards, and get this onesie off him without ruining the furniture.

I carry him to the bathroom without blessing my clothes, I may have held him upside down, away from me cause it was also creeping down his legs.

I get him in the tub and it immediately turns into beef broth. I just made this boy stand up and take a shower this was entirely too much he gone have to learn early.

He has no idea what’s going on, he has this big grin on his face and wants to play. At this point I’m thinking he did this on purpose so I’m ready to fight.

Let the water out and the tub looks like a wet packet of Swiss miss. If i had to see it, ya’ll gotta visualize it.

Once I’m putting lotion on him and putting his clothes on his mother conveniently walks in like “Oh… I didn’t know it was that bad”

So she’s a single mother now and JoJo is left with only memories of me playing with him…

It’s probably for the best..

See ya’ll at the NFL draft.

The Scooternator

Some folk know, some don’t. I lived in Nutsac West Virginia for about 9 months. It was quite the experience. Not bad… Not great… I was… There.

The school I went to was pretty big because it was the only Junior high in the county. And there were only 5 black people. I’m exaggerating, maybe 25ish. And of course, not everyone likes each other but there’s like an underlying brotherhood if something went down. But there’s an exception for every rule.

So I’m walking through the Hallways of General Lee Junior High and a fellow brother approaches me.
Bro: Aye Teddy, you heard what happened to me?
Me: Naw, what?
Bro: This damn red neck called me a Nigger!
Me: WHO?!
Bro: Such and such. Ima beat his ass after school Bruh.
Me: I mean if you feel disrespected then you gotta do what you gotta do.

So Bruh was small…. Frail… But I thought he was one of those small dudes that had to fight his whole life so I gave him the benefit of the doubt that he could handle himself since he had so much confidence.

Later on in the day I was in class talking to my boy JB Snooze.
Me: Aye you heard Bruh Tryna fight some red neck that dropped the N bomb on him?
JB: Yeeeaaaa everybody has been telling him not to do it cause he’s gonna lose but he won’t listen.
Me: idk Bruh sounded pretty confident.
JB: You ever seen the dude he wanna fight?
Me: I can’t put a face to the name but I’ve probably seen him.
JB: If you think he has a chance of winning, then you haven’t seen dude. I’ll show you on the way to lunch.

So he points dude out…..
Listen…..
Just listen to Me.
This was the beginning of Me being a conspiracy theorist. At the tender age of 14
I saw dude and I just KNEW that somewhere in 1967 Bull Connor was in a lab in Alabama with a bunch of Klan scientists working on a series of Red neck cyborgs to send to the future and terrorize black folk. This dude was just huge for no damn reason. He looked like a shoulder wearing tight jeans and a tight ass white tee. And folk saying he just got that big working on a farm. Aint that many hay bales in the state of West Virginia. AND by this time I had been at the school for about 5 months. I’ve seen about everybody in the school. I would have noticed somebody strolling round the building built like a Jeep. I’m traumatized and I’m shocked because One: Unless Bruh has some cheat codes or a Gamebreaker or a mushroom, star, the ghost of Jack Johnson. He not winning.
Two: this corrupt ass school is housing this Klan cyborg that Bull Connor sent from the past. IVE NEVER SEEN HIM. And I wish someone from Administration would admit that they kept his ass in a closet plugged up, charging for the first half of the school year and only let him out to terrorize folk. So let’s call him “The Scooternator”

The school day is over and I’m on my way to practice and I hear people calling Bruh name so i know he fighting but maybe they’re cheering him on. When I get closer they have the hallway doors closed. The window of the door was taller than me so I’m jumping up to look through it.
I really wanna tell ya’ll that Bruh was winning this fight. I would love nothing more than to tell you that Bruh defeated The Scooternator and saved his race.
But, instead I have to tell you that every time I jumped up to look through the window, Bruh was being used to scrub the floor. I mean Scooternator is standing there, emotionless, dragging Bruh who I can now call “The Artist Formally Known As RINSE”(RIP).
And folk are letting this go on. They’ve formed a circle. RINSE is laying on the floor looking like Frogger after he lost. And I’m just screaming “SOMEBODY THROW WATER ON HIM AND SHORT CIRCUIT HIS ASS” “FIND A BIG ENOUGH MAGNET AND USE IT TO FRY HIS MOTHERBOARD”. My screams fell on deaf ears. Bull Connor has won.

They suspended Scooternator and I didn’t see him again. So I’m pretty sure he jumped in his vortex and went back to 1967 to get his next assignment.

RINSE had all the respect from me for standing up to the cyborg. But he should’ve done his research. David had a stone and sling shot. Craig had a brick. We live in the mountains.. You’re surrounded by weapons.

To suffice for the L taken…
Have a listen

Until next time, folk.
Love

Papa Bear Chronicles Vol II

Well it happened…. 13 months later but it happened.. Papa Bear made an appearance.

I took JoJo to Walgreens to pick up some medicine for him, he’s not feeling well. He’s sitting in the cart like a grown man… We doing on our patty cake wave. Taupe kid runs up to the cart. Bout 8 or 9. The age of “Know Betterdom” , and reaches out to touch Jo. I gently pushed the cart back a tad bit out of his reach, and said “Can you say Hey JoJo?” so I won’t be 100% rude. The kid just moved closer so I just had to hit him with the “ightightightightightightightight Chill” and started to walk away. Taupe mom goes “Honey I told you you have to ask first before touching people’s kids… Although that man was very rude”

…….. Time of F*ckedupness: Approximately 5:32pm

Me:Pardon me Ma’am, am I the rude man you’re referring to?

TM: Yes, my son had good intentions he loves babies and you shouldn’t have pushed the cart away so rudely.

Me: Did I push the cart away rudely, or did I push the cart away like my 1 year old has a fever and before I got out my car I saw BOTH your sons playing bongos on that nasty ass trash can outside before they came in?

TM: Well that doesn’t-

Me: And I’m willing to bet every dollar in my pocket, the 3 of ya’ll just waltzed ya’ll asses in here, you picked up your Herbal Essence and People Magazine, told them they could each get one snack, and not once made them wash they damn hands…. Call me a liar…

TM: *blank stare*

Me: But I’m supposed to let him rub his hands all on my son face…

TM: *still staring*

Me: The hand sanitizer is on the counter behind you…. Black Lives Matter…

*Fade to Pharmacy*

5 Finger Manno

Ya’ll know I love my urban legends right? I have another one for you.

The story of 5 Finger Manno.

So I’ve been spending some time in Jersey City since my ole lady is from there.

I’m out of place when I travel up north so I have a hard time fitting in. One route I tried to take was bringing up celebrities and such that I knew was from the area since her Brothers have been there their whole lives they know a lot of people.

I WILL NOT mention their names because of the stories they have for them but at least half of the discussions went like:
“Man you talking bout such and such?!?! Maaannn 5 Finger Manno slapped that muhfugga up in the park!”

EVERY….STORY… Started like that.

Who is 5 Finger Manno?! Why is he slapping everybody?? And where is this park I need to avoid so I don’t get slapped???

Initially I didn’t believe it. But one day I went to a local bar in the city to partake and overheard someone else who I didn’t know mention someone getting slapped in the park by 5 Finger Manno.

I said enough is enough… Time to find out more about this 5 Finger Manno.
I went looking for his story…. And I got it, eventually.

So 5 Finger Manno was born and raised in Jersey City. He was very musically inclined but his favorite instrument was the bongo. As he got older he developed a short temper. And he couldn’t stand “nonsense”. So he’d be in this park I never found the name of and him and his boys would play for fun. If someone looked at him wrong he would get up and BLAAAOOOOWWW just slap fire out of em. Just cause HE felt offended HE felt it was justified.

Eventually he made a name for himself… Kinda for his music but mostly because he would slap people for no reason.
He became a serial slapper around the city. And folk knew he was coming..

See he had his bongo strapped round his shoulder as he walked through the city… And he would play a tune on it As he walked around.. So when locals heard that bongo they would scatter. But people from outside the city didn’t know and thought they were getting a free show then,  BLAAOOOWWW. And what made things worse was that EVERY night and morning he would work out with hand grips just so folk would fear 5 Finger Manno and tell other towns about him.

Eventually he became a menace society and police tried to catch him. The thing about 5 Finger Manno was that he was light brown with long dreads down his back. Fluent in Spanish and Patois so folk couldn’t describe his nationality. He spoke Clear English when he wasn’t slap happy. Folk couldn’t give a clear description.

There was this one Italian officer who was bullied by dark skin folk while in high school and he joined the force and made it his mission to terrorize them no matter the age. He hid behind his badge. His name was Blanco Privlegio. Officer Privlegio made it his mission to take down Manno but he just couldn’t.

Every time he saw Manno he would stop and frisk him but he couldn’t nail him cause he was speaking english, didnt have his bongo, and his dreads were tucked tight under a hat that for whatever reason would NOT come off. And he would always say “Manno Ima get ya black ass!” and Manno would resist slapping an officer cause he knew he would get sent up the river.

One day Manno was in the park playing and this guy looked at him funny and it pissed him off so much he dug deep down in his soul and slapped Bruh out his socks. Stood over top of him and realized Bruh was severely cock eyed. Everyone in the park banded together and scolded Manno. One lady said “I’m calling Privlegio.” Manno jumped on the first thing smoking to DC and hid out for awhile. Before he went to sleep he prayed for help with his anger. He didn’t really want to slap people he just felt it was the only thing necessary.
As he slept he was visited by an angel, Della Grease.

She said, “Manno, you have sooo much aggression inside of you… It could be used for good instead of evil like you’ve been doing. Until you use this excellent elbow grease for good, I will take one of your glorious dreads. Go against me, you will be Stevie Wonder… Follow me, and you will be Buju Banton… The choice is yours. You will know when it is time.”

If there was one thing Manno was extremely proud of it was his locks. He had worked so hard on them and they were responsible for 90% of the girls he bagged. So he couldn’t lose them.

One day Manno’s family was on her way down south to see his little sister and invited him. He figured the further south he went he would be safe, so he went.
Mama Manno’s favorite restaurant was Golden Corral. He hated the place but liked making her happy so he went. He’s eating decent trying his best to stay up beat and enjoy his food. The waiter comes and refills his drink but he reached over his plate to do it.
Manno: I can’t believe this rude mf is reaching over my bourbon chicken
Family in Unison: Manno, please don’t do it.
Manno: it’s cool… Its a good deed.

BLAAAOOOOWWW!!!

Server backflipped all into the meatloaf. Glasses landed in the green bean casserole. Whole restaurant froze up.

Manno confidently smiles…

Then 2 dreads hit the floor….

He angrily storms out the restaurant.

Manno: Della Grease, he disrespected me, he got dealt with, why did I lose some locks?!
Della: Manno, that man is doing his job, slapping him for a mistake is no good deed.

Manno continues south with his family.

Manno made it down south and stopped by a gas station for some backwoods and coconut water… Cause you gotta hydrate naturally to fulfill your slap destiny.

The cashier doesn’t hand him his money he puts it on the counter.

Manno: Oh so I’m not good enough for you to hand me my money?!?!

BLAAAOOOOWWW !!!

Manno slapped this man so hard he caught his whole face, slammed him against the register and EVERYBODY got $10 free gas.

2 more dreads fall out.

Della: Manno…. Young Manno…. You will know when you need to fulfill your Slapstiny…

Manno knew better… He didn’t argue.

Manno stayed down south for a few months with his sister and didn’t go out to refrain from slapping people. His Homie had a big show in Jersey City and he figured it had been long enough for the coast to be clear so he caught a megabus up there.

While he’s waiting for the show he goes outside  to smoke and who else does he see besides Officer Privlegio roughing up a black teenager who keeps screaming “IM NOT RESISTING MAN I DONT HAVE ANYTHING!!”

Manno is fighting the urge at first but then he hears Della.

Della: Manno…. OOOOOOOOHHHHHH MANNNOOOOOO!!! You don’t need a watch to know what time it is!!

Manno: Say no more! Hey PRIVLEGIO!!

Privlegio let’s the teen go and runs right towards Manno full speed.

Manno grows his 4 dreads back… Then they all turn Golden. He knows his Slapstiny will be fulfilled.

He begins to run towards Privlegio, reaches his hand up and came down so hard he had flames coming from it.

He connects.

Privlegio flies back and hits the side of a Bodega so hard he left an imprint in the brick. The teen fled.. The rest of the officers rushed to Privlegio’s side and are all in shock of what they see. One rookie cop says “man he can never work ag-”

The rest of Privlegio’s co workers weep softly for their fallen soldiers.

Privlegio regains consciousness in a hospital 2 weeks later. Surrounded by fellow officers giving him nalia for all that he has done for the City.
Privlegio: why are giving me this?! It’s just a small scar I’ll be back soon.

The Chief: No Privlegio… You won’t… You can’t come back.

Privlegio unravels the bandages from his face and reveals a large hand print scar that has “Black Lives Matter, Ho” on the inside also written in scars. He looks at his comrades distraught knowing it will never heal…

He screams loudly from his hospital bed…

Manno smiles as he walks around his old stomping grounds playing the bongos for onlookers to enjoy.

Hopefully one day I get to meet the new 5 Finger Manno.

Of Mice & Teddy

We all know life tests us… In my head, I think life knows that there are certain situations you haven’t been through in a while If ever and wants to know if you sink or swim…

Life is the teacher that called on you because she KNOWS that you don’t know that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell… So you either get the answer right, or you blurt out “Nucleolus”. The choice is yours.

This particular time, life just decided to make 8 hours of my life painfully awkward to see if I had it… I’ll let ya’ll judge whether I did or not.

I was waiting tables at the Musty Krab, In this small town I live in. I was the only non taupe server in the restaurant.

It’s 3pm on a Saturday so it’s pretty slow. Me and my Homie Slim Carrey are in the back cutting up, horse playing. You know, shit ween got no business doing.
There’s this taupe girl we worked with. Bout 5’0 100lbs soaking wet. One of those innocent girls obsessed with horses. So let’s call her Pony Montana.

Me and Slim get in a friendly shoving contest. I push him the exact moment as Pony comes walking our way. He flies towards her, his shoulder hits her in the nose.

The nose is a very interesting body part. Because if you get hit in it, you either sneeze violently, or you’re in excruciating pain.

Now I’m in a situation similar to when you hit your younger sibling and you pray they’re okay because you don’t want them to tell mom. Except lil brother= tiny taupe girl and mom=Chesterfield County PD.

So I went to hug her to make sure she’s ok and I can’t see her face but the way her body is moving she’s either crying or laughing. I prayed for the latter but ya’ll know my luck.
She starts boo-hooing.

Everybody in the kitchen gives me death stares, Slim screams “LOOK WHAT YOU DID!” and her boyfriend is mad but he can’t whoop my ass so he prolly slid a racial slur in under his breath.

I apologize but she not Tryna hear it. So I feel small at this point… There wasn’t but 5 people in the back but when I went to the front everybody knew what happened and I’m public enemy #1.

My manager, Kate Thinslet, gives me some words of encouragement you know “it was an accident, people know you’re a good guy and you didn’t mean it.”

So now I’m ready to work. I still feel bad but I just tried to find stuff to do to get my mind off it.

I go to clean the fish tank which is this big veiney sumbitch. It has these heavy thick wooden doors on the bottom of it. I clean it, and when I come down my apron got caught on one of the heavy ass doors which happened to be off the hinges. It fell and made this loud obnoxious ass noise.

When I turn around all these egg shell colored folk are looking at me like I just said I’ve never seen Titanic. I haven’t btw. I look to the right, and Kate has her hand over her mouth and tears falling from her eyes cause of course, my day could get more awkward with the heavy ass door that I knocked over landing on her foot the same day she decided to be cute and wear sandals.

So I carry her, princess style to the back. She’s crying her ass off. The other managers are in the back with me and she decides she wants to win a fuckin Oscar soooo..

“My FOOOOOOTTTT!! I CAN’T FEEL ANYTHING, IT’S NUMB!! I KNOW IT’S BROKEN!!”

So I get more death stares.

The owner, Bony Soprano takes her to Patient First and I continue my shift feeling the same size as a smurf while everyone prepares to burn a Teddy effigy.

Bony calls and asks to speak with me. “Aye man, don’t feel bad she didn’t break anything it’s just swollen, she’s fine and she can walk…

Ok… I don’t feel that terrible anymore. I can keep my head in the game.

No I can’t…

Cause a few hours later…

In comes Kate…. Again, working on that Oscar. On crutches,Foot wrapped up, making unnecessary ass grunts.

Folk start joking like “Look what you did Teddy, I hope you’re proud”.

I felt so bad I couldn’t even look her crippled ass in the face.

I felt like John Coffey.. Minus the.. You know..

I felt like Lennie from Mice and Men… Breaking taupe girls necks and shit…

Tell me about the rabbits, Bruh..

Rookie Season Vol. 1

So I’m bout 6 months and some change into the Daddy Game aaannnddd. I’d be a damn lie if I told you I had it under control. 

I’m getting there… But I think me and Jojo would agree I have more work to do…

However…

I came a long way from the first time me and him ventured into the world though. Wanna hear it? Here it goes.

His mother had just gone back to work from maternity leave and I was given the task of taking him to his 2 month appointment.

Getting him ready JUST got easy. Back then, I could freak a black & mild faster than I could put a diaper and onesie on him. I’ve showed up to appointments 30 mins late because I went to public school so I don’t quite understand how to put shoes on an infant.

Twas a onesie and socks kinda day for the young bull when he hung out with daddy.

Went to the doctor and he woke up as soon as I sat down. He was good at first… Then he got hungry. No worries I had breast milk in the diaper bag… I can prepared…

Not that damn prepared though… The shit was frozen…. In my defense… I could’ve SWORN it was gonna thaw out in 2 hours….

Again…. It’s my rookie season….

So Jojo gets hungry…. I’m his father so I understand.
I’m just not prepared.

He…went… Honey baked ham.
Randal CunningHAM
Anthony HAMilton
Mia HAMm
Watson’s go to BirmingHAM

Bruh screamed his soul out. When he hungry this man turns in To a Louie Armskrong Howler Monkey(best way to describe it) To make matters worse he also had a blow out and had baby boo boo running down his leg.

So I’m in the public restroom… Sink clogged with hot water Tryna thaw the milk out.
Him channeling Aretha Franklin, K Ci and Jojo
Tryna change and feed him.

20 mins later I accomplish my mission.

I come out the bathroom and this boy about 11 or 12 is running from the door cause he just had his ear to it.

Me: You mind yo got damn business….
Him: *gasp* Daddy!
*Pops mean mugs*
Me: I’ll take this diaper bag off and rinse yo ass too.

Of course I won’t take my frustration out on my son so someone gotta catch an abundance of fades.

I’m feeding the seed and waiting to be called.

They call me up to the desk for insurance info…

Again It’s rookie season So I can’t hold and feed him and hand them my insurance card.. So This polite hood hippo offers to hold him while I handle business..

She falls in love with my son and wants to keep him, understandably so, the boys handsome as hell….

But I can’t take her up on that offer cause I’m currently not in the physical state to RKO his mother…

The Nurse calls us in and I try to gather Everything together and get in the room…

Rookie season…. I forget his car seat.
The Nurse offers to hold him while I go back and get it…

Lets pause so I can Be Bob Ross and paint a picture for ya’ll..

Imagine a documentary… Some clueless egg shell colored dude… In my head he’s British. He just picked up an adorable bear cub and is playing with it on camera…. The camera man’s eyes get big..

So i come back and the nurse is holding son parading him around and she’s standing in front of the Dr. With her back towards me… I walk up to her and Docs eyes get big and she says, “Dad’s back” no threat, just a big black dude.. Although given the situation and the picture I painted for you I was almost inclined to let out a big ass roar before snatching my son away for added effect but I refrained.

The check up went well, found out Jojo was the size of a decent thanksgiving turkey. Can’t deny him.

He gets hungry again…. Shows his ass Again… I was unprepared AGAIN!

Rookie season… I’m back in the bathroom Tryna thaw out breast milk in luke warm water.. I’m vigorously rubbing it under the water giving it a happy ending and shit. I feed him and he’s back to my happy greedy son that I strangely love.. We made it home and mommy came through to save the day.

Real quick , I know this wasn’t my typical knee slapper but I wanted to take you through a day of a clueless new father… I find it strange and interesting that when he was first born he knew nothing of me besides hearing me sing Foreign Exchange to him through the womb and when he came out and opened his eyes he stared at me trying to figure out who the hell I was and I was absolutely in love with him. I pretty much had to audition for my son.
It started out rough but Fatherhood is my new favorite hobby… I like to think I got better at it.

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Until next time folk!

Love.