Thursday, September 25, 2008
Like a Crack House
My mom’s house is becoming more and more like a crack house. Let me explain. Everytime I go over to my mom’s house there is some new negro laying up in my mom’s house. I don’t even get it. Yesterday, we I went over, the first thing I do I go say hi to my mom and see if she is okay. Then I ask where my nephew is (in school, where he belongs). My niece is outside, talking to somebody and my little brother has just driven up. I go into the family room, to hopefully look at some television, but there is somebody already in there, sleep/looking at television.
My first thought is, why is my nephew Ant over here? I know he still living with my mom ‘nem, but only in theory. The reality is, he is normally somewhere shacking up with his fianicie. But there he is, slumped in the big chair, sleep, 48 hours on televison (or whatever the name of that reality cop show is). So I go back into my mom room and hang out with her. She starts gripping to me about how some inspector came over and turned off theiir water heater and they have no more hot water. What the fuck? Yeah, she called the inspector for some reason and he found that they were involation and he had to turn off their water heater. She was so mad at the man, but I told her that she couldn’t be mad at the man for doing his job.
Anyway, so I’m sitting right there and my mom starts calling for my brother and calling for some guy name T.J. Who the fuck is T.J. Anyway, after a minute, this T.J person comes and to see what my mom wants and guess what…It’s the person I thought was my nephew. LOL. Okay, I can explain this, because I know you are wondering how I don’t know my own nephew when I see him.
Okay, my nephew Ant is about 6 foot, two-forty and blue black in color. We are talking so black that you can’t tell where his skin ends and his hair begins. So, good look making out his features, if your are not right up on him and the light is poor. Well, this T.J. guy has the exact same build and complextion. Who know.
I ask my mom who the hell he is and she says , “Oh, that’s T.J. He lives down the street.”
“Okay, why is it that every time I come over here, yall got some new stranger laying all up in your house.”
“He’s not a stranger. He lives up the street and friend with Stace (my Niece) and Duce (my brother). He went to school with them or something.”
My mom drives me crazy. I lived in this house and I know everyone that both my neices and brother and sisters hung out with growing up. This T.J. is not one of those people and even if he is, why is his ass laying up in your house at two something in the afternoon? We know this much about him. He is either 26 or 29...either way why is his ass not in college, work or at his own damn home. I don’t get it and my mom still doesn’t answer my question, so I ask it again. “Why is it that every time I come over here there is some new, random guy up in your house.”
Her answer: “He’s always over here.”
Well, he’s not always over here, but this is the first time I’ve seen ass over here. What kind of communal, group house for the lazy is being run over here. It’s not like my mom has anything. Hell, they are living just above the knee sockets of poverty. It’s not like she is always whipping up these outstanding meals. I just don’t see what the attraction is, except for the fact that you see other grown ass people in and out of there, not working. Not unlike a fucking crack house.
And yall all know by now that I worry. I get to see man’s inhumanity to man on a daily basis. I know how crazy people are and what they will do and I hate that my mom allows herself to be put into a situation where someone can do harm to her. You are over weight, paralyzed on one side of your body and virtually immobile. Negroes are crazy, I don’t want them in the house with you! Plus, I don’t like all these random dudes hanging around my nephew. I don’t know them and I think everyone is a potential pedophile. I’m not trusting a single motherfucker. Does it really take something drastic to happen for them to get the message? Well, no….we know that’s not the answer because about a year and a half ago some little punks robbed my sister and cousin in the driveway of my mom’s house. (I WAS LIVID!)
But what’s a man to do? I can’t tell my mom who she can and can not have in her house. I can’t tell my little sister how to raise her son. I can’t tell my little brother to get off his ass and get a job. Well, actually, I CAN and DO do all of those things, but it’s like talking to a brick wall, a cactus and a deaf pussy cat. They ain’t listen.
AGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Drives me crazy! Fucking, none crack smoking, crack-heads. How pathetic is that shit?
-One Man's Opinion. Peace.