I love my little brother and sister. They are both college graduates and twins to both. In November they will turn thirty years of age and they drive me crazy. That’s right….CRAZY! And let me tell you why.
As you know by now, this week I worked eleven days straight (not by choice). It was fine, I got to know a lot of good people, did some head sketches and made over-time money out the butt…and I found out recently that my over time rate is a little over fifty dollars an hour. Yeah, I know it ain’t much, but it’s like a good blow job to me. No offense. Anyway, since it had been a while since I had time for myself I took the next four days off. This is day one of those fours days and I went to see my mom, nephew and the rest. Just the thought of seeing my little nephew makes me smile (and I realize how sick yall are of hearing that, but it’s true. That little boy brings me joy.)
Okay, let me tell you how why twins drive me butt scratching crazy. Lets start with baby sis. I need for her to stop bringing every dead beat ass nigger she meets over to my mom’s house and around my nephew. I don’t know what it is with black women, my sister included, and sorry ass men. Example One: Manny’s dad. She meet his ass at the 7-11. He was a man hoe with children all over God’s creation. An unemployed man hoe to boot. I will say this much for the man…although he didn’t do much by way of financial responsibility he gave his time to my nephew. To the point that I was jealous whenever my little buddy was over his daddy’s house. However, I loved and appreciated the time that Manny’s dad spent with him, because I think that quality time is way more precious then money. I was said when he died in automobile accident before Manny reached the age of two years old. Then there were others that came and went in the wink of an eye but the one that comes to mind is the Murderer. She hates when I call him that, but that’s what he is. He killed a man last year. She met the Murderer at a chicken place. And my sister can believe the hype, but I don’t believe that shit was a accident and I need him away from my mom and my nephew. This bastard had a job, so I am told, but he didn’t have a place to live. I still don’t know why they were allowing this nigger, who she didn’t even know for a good month to be living all up in their house and sleeping all up in her bed. Now she’s messing with this twenty three year old, who just got released from prison for Aggravated Robbery and Robbery. Yeah, he spent five years of his young life in jail. He hung out with us when I took my family to the Univer-soul Circus. She swore up and down that she was not dating him, but I’m not stupid. Of course with his criminal history and the fact that he didn’t graduate high school, it is making it hard for him to get a job. I was criticized about giving him the third degree, but I don’t know this little mother fucker.
Don’t get me wrong. He’s a nice kid, very respectful and all, but I don’t know him. I want to give him the benefit of a doubt, but as far as I know he could be a child molester, rapist or still have those other criminal tendencies. I had to let him know that I am a cop (sergeant) and I am always packing. Evening show him the gun strapped to my hip. He needed to know that we were cool up and to the point that he fucked up. That’s when I become the Felon. I ain’t playing.
Then there is my little brother. Got arrested for position of Marijuana before he finished college, because his ass is hard headed. Came back home to help little sis take care of mom after my step-father passed away. Has yet to hold down a steady, full time job. I think the last one he had lasted all of six month (because he lied about his criminal history). Two of my guy friends gave me a hard time about calling him out on not having a job this past Fourth of July. They said he was embarrassed. Fuck that. They don’t know my little brother and his nonchalant ass. If he needed to be embarrassed about anything it would be the fact that he was twenty nine year old ass was asking his big brother for money, so he can go out, in the first place. That shit ain’t cool.
He and I had a talk, as I left the house and I laid it all out on the line for him. The fact that his ass was about to turn Thirty years old, without a job history to speak of. The fact that he can’t wait for the perfect job to just drop out his ass. The fact that I think he is still smoking the wacky-tobaccy. The fact that the older he gets the harder it is going to be to get a job. The fact that I’m not going to help raise his ass, since I don’t help support grown ass people (unless they carried me for nine months, no charge). I told him that he had too many people trying to help his ass get a job and he to busy playing at it. That shit is ridiculous and yall all know it. Then I brought my ass home.
I love my family. Lord knows I do. I try to get us to do things together as a group, even if it means me playing. But damn it, I need them to do right. I have made a hell of a lot of mistakes, believe you me, but in the end I support myself and have never and I mean never asked anyone for a helping hand. It’s just not in me. That being said, I am willing to lend a hand, but damn…I only have so many hands to give.
-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.