Close Call b/w I'm in love with Regina King
its saturday and its pouring down rain in brooklyn right? and ive gone through like, every single episode in my tivo list waitin for my dog larry's ass to holla so we can burn some trees and play some records and get down on the playstation for a wee bit but after about 4 hours i've given up on this fool. this day has been called. and i aint got nuthin left to do. its only 5pm.
so i decide to reach out to my boy Dubba from disco. i heard he had been going to N/A meetings and had to hear the score about this. i mean, me and Dubba go way far back. back to when oprah was fat and easy e was fuckin crackhead hookers in the ass bareback. i could see him leavin alone certain chemicles, but to get into the N/A scene you gotta give it ALL up. even beer. and if i know Dubba at all, he aint givin up no beer.
so i get him on the horn and he breaks it down to me: seems he had a little episode that got him shook. this lead to the moral heebie jeebies and he decided to check out the square scene. well, like i figured, he couldnt give up the sauce, so he couldnt get down. but this episode he went through, lemme tell it to ya:
so its st patty's day. he is drunk as funk at some bar in the mission. its after 2 cuz the bars have poured their last shot and shut their doors [i know, california drinking laws fist ass. 2am? pfft] and ol Dubbs decides its time to take a trip to the tenderloin to pick up some of that dirty shit [sometime Dubba gets down like that, i aint gonna hate. who hasnt?].
now Dubbs is white and not of the most fit frame, but like i said earlier, hes drunk as shit and his mind is made up so he goes to the seedier section of san francisco to score him some rock. fuck what ya heard, this cat was on a mission.
he meets up with this one crackhead and gets his shit. now it should be noted that most crackheads kinda stick together, so conversation will most likely ensue during a purchase or a deal, and this conversation usually involves smoking crack. the dealer dude is like -yo, i got this girl upstairs that will let us smoke rock in her room and fuck her for $40. and of course Dubbs is down cuz at this point in the evening the idea of smoking crack with a strange man and his hooker friend in a cramped downtown hotel room seems like paydirt.
so they get up to the room. get they anti-social drug puff on, do the dirty three thing, and are just about to light up again when all of a sudden mad fools start knockin on the door tryin to get up in on their space. turns out this was a popular crackwhore whom all the rockstars loved to kick it with. oh yeah, she was also a heroin addict that had to boot up before she blew Dubba silly.
next thing ya know there are five fools in a tiny ass hotel room and Dubbs is getting the feeling hes bouta get jacked. too many crackheads in one room = trouble. lemme tell ya. so he starts plottin his exit and finds the perfect out when some fool wants to "take him to the ATM" to get some money for guess what? more CRACK. Dubbs hands him an expired credit card but gives the real pin number in hopes that he will bounce to the ATM in which Dubbs will then pull a -oh yeah, i forgot something in my car, and bone the fuck out move.
but ya boy with the expired credit card goes and comes back mad fast, even before Dubbs can execute his masterful plan. damn, crackheads be quick! and of course dude is trippin cuz there wasnt any money to be had [not like he woulda came back if there was any]. so hes kinda bitchin but W is too fucked to even listen. hes off his head high and just needs to find a cab home. hes sick of the crack scene at this point. too shady [i know, when ISNT it shady.] but just as hes about to get up and straight walk out mid conversation without saying bye like a person going to the bathroom that KNOWS they are about to puke some other crackhead fool walks into the room and starts yelling at the entire crackhead lot of em. Dubbs doesnt know who the fuck he is yelling at, but gets it in his head that it him. this is when Crackhead #1, the initial dealer dude, says to Dubbs, all nonchalant like -come on dog. lets bounce. and grabs Dubbs arm to leave the room, but Crackhead #2, the guy that bust in the room, pulls out a gun and starts waving it around.
as ive mentioned W aint the biggest player on the field, so he just puts on the burners and bolts from the room. past the gun and the crack and the smack and the hooker and the pipes and the 'heads and down five flights of stairs into the lukewarm 4am that is san francisco night. and he keeps on running. cuttin corners. against traffic. with traffic. duckin behind trees and dumpsters and shit, and when he finally turns around to see if hes escaped motherfuckin Crackhead #2 is a block behind him still, panting and waving a gun in his hand. jesus christ, this rockstar had some determination! i mean, say what you will about crackheads, but they have no problem running long distances [as long as there is some potential crack in it of course].
anyway, Crackhead #2 is hollerin at Dubbs something about "it was all a misunderstanding" and "come on back, we'll party" but Dubba aint fallin for it. he keeps his distance, finds himself a cab, and heads back to the crilla happy hes still breathing. of course the next few days he thought he had 'reached the point' and needed some help so he went to a few meetings and we all know now how that turned out. he asked if i had any valium to send him. i told him to just sit next to the mailbox and eventually it would come. dumbass.
man, its raining in brooklyn but its storming in disco. only in the sucka free can that type of shit still go down.
on another note: i just watched the movie Ray and there is a scene in it that kills me everytime i see it [ive watched the movie once, but the scene five times]. its when they are in the studio doing the song "Night time is the Right Time" and Regina King's character goes into the 'BAAYBAAAAAY!' part and she has so much hunger and lust in her eyes which are glued on Ray the entire time shes singing. right then she is so desperate for him and her heart is just breaking for him and its so sweaty and intimate and intense... i kinda have a crush on Regina King now.
so i decide to reach out to my boy Dubba from disco. i heard he had been going to N/A meetings and had to hear the score about this. i mean, me and Dubba go way far back. back to when oprah was fat and easy e was fuckin crackhead hookers in the ass bareback. i could see him leavin alone certain chemicles, but to get into the N/A scene you gotta give it ALL up. even beer. and if i know Dubba at all, he aint givin up no beer.
so i get him on the horn and he breaks it down to me: seems he had a little episode that got him shook. this lead to the moral heebie jeebies and he decided to check out the square scene. well, like i figured, he couldnt give up the sauce, so he couldnt get down. but this episode he went through, lemme tell it to ya:
so its st patty's day. he is drunk as funk at some bar in the mission. its after 2 cuz the bars have poured their last shot and shut their doors [i know, california drinking laws fist ass. 2am? pfft] and ol Dubbs decides its time to take a trip to the tenderloin to pick up some of that dirty shit [sometime Dubba gets down like that, i aint gonna hate. who hasnt?].
now Dubbs is white and not of the most fit frame, but like i said earlier, hes drunk as shit and his mind is made up so he goes to the seedier section of san francisco to score him some rock. fuck what ya heard, this cat was on a mission.
he meets up with this one crackhead and gets his shit. now it should be noted that most crackheads kinda stick together, so conversation will most likely ensue during a purchase or a deal, and this conversation usually involves smoking crack. the dealer dude is like -yo, i got this girl upstairs that will let us smoke rock in her room and fuck her for $40. and of course Dubbs is down cuz at this point in the evening the idea of smoking crack with a strange man and his hooker friend in a cramped downtown hotel room seems like paydirt.
so they get up to the room. get they anti-social drug puff on, do the dirty three thing, and are just about to light up again when all of a sudden mad fools start knockin on the door tryin to get up in on their space. turns out this was a popular crackwhore whom all the rockstars loved to kick it with. oh yeah, she was also a heroin addict that had to boot up before she blew Dubba silly.
next thing ya know there are five fools in a tiny ass hotel room and Dubbs is getting the feeling hes bouta get jacked. too many crackheads in one room = trouble. lemme tell ya. so he starts plottin his exit and finds the perfect out when some fool wants to "take him to the ATM" to get some money for guess what? more CRACK. Dubbs hands him an expired credit card but gives the real pin number in hopes that he will bounce to the ATM in which Dubbs will then pull a -oh yeah, i forgot something in my car, and bone the fuck out move.
but ya boy with the expired credit card goes and comes back mad fast, even before Dubbs can execute his masterful plan. damn, crackheads be quick! and of course dude is trippin cuz there wasnt any money to be had [not like he woulda came back if there was any]. so hes kinda bitchin but W is too fucked to even listen. hes off his head high and just needs to find a cab home. hes sick of the crack scene at this point. too shady [i know, when ISNT it shady.] but just as hes about to get up and straight walk out mid conversation without saying bye like a person going to the bathroom that KNOWS they are about to puke some other crackhead fool walks into the room and starts yelling at the entire crackhead lot of em. Dubbs doesnt know who the fuck he is yelling at, but gets it in his head that it him. this is when Crackhead #1, the initial dealer dude, says to Dubbs, all nonchalant like -come on dog. lets bounce. and grabs Dubbs arm to leave the room, but Crackhead #2, the guy that bust in the room, pulls out a gun and starts waving it around.
as ive mentioned W aint the biggest player on the field, so he just puts on the burners and bolts from the room. past the gun and the crack and the smack and the hooker and the pipes and the 'heads and down five flights of stairs into the lukewarm 4am that is san francisco night. and he keeps on running. cuttin corners. against traffic. with traffic. duckin behind trees and dumpsters and shit, and when he finally turns around to see if hes escaped motherfuckin Crackhead #2 is a block behind him still, panting and waving a gun in his hand. jesus christ, this rockstar had some determination! i mean, say what you will about crackheads, but they have no problem running long distances [as long as there is some potential crack in it of course].
anyway, Crackhead #2 is hollerin at Dubbs something about "it was all a misunderstanding" and "come on back, we'll party" but Dubba aint fallin for it. he keeps his distance, finds himself a cab, and heads back to the crilla happy hes still breathing. of course the next few days he thought he had 'reached the point' and needed some help so he went to a few meetings and we all know now how that turned out. he asked if i had any valium to send him. i told him to just sit next to the mailbox and eventually it would come. dumbass.
man, its raining in brooklyn but its storming in disco. only in the sucka free can that type of shit still go down.
on another note: i just watched the movie Ray and there is a scene in it that kills me everytime i see it [ive watched the movie once, but the scene five times]. its when they are in the studio doing the song "Night time is the Right Time" and Regina King's character goes into the 'BAAYBAAAAAY!' part and she has so much hunger and lust in her eyes which are glued on Ray the entire time shes singing. right then she is so desperate for him and her heart is just breaking for him and its so sweaty and intimate and intense... i kinda have a crush on Regina King now.
posted by -jkg at
3:03 PM
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