Ask A G
I'm not entirely sure I've offended quite everybody yet, so with that in mind, today I am happy to launch a new feature here at Damn It Feels Good to be a Gangster, a little something I like to call, "Ask a G." Your queries will be answered seriously and frankly by my good friend, Tyrone from the Future. Tyrone is not actually from the future, but he thinks he is. He's a little crazy, but he gives great advice. Anyway, we go now to our very first letter. Tyrone?
"Dear G,
I live in New Orleans and my house and city have been destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. My whole property is now a lake. What do I do?
Sincerely,
Underwater in N.O."
Alright Underwater in N.O., I'm gonna make this REAL simple for ya. Basically, there ain't nothin' you can do. You're fucked like McCauley Caulkin at a NAMBLA meeting. You could have done somethin' a month ago, but right now you're screwed up and down and all the way around. My only advice for you and all the rest of your neighbors down there is simply this: LIVE ABOVE SEA LEVEL, ASSHOLES. Same goes for Venetians. Next?
"Dear G,
My brother and I are Shiite Muslims and we were on our way to the Mosque the other day when someone yelled something about a suicide bomber and people got crushed in the stampede, including my brother. Now he's dead. How can something like this be prevented in the future?
-Lonely Shiite"
Give up your ignorant fucking religion and think for your goddamn self. And LIVE SOMEWHERE ELSE, asshole. There's never NOT going to be the threat of suicide bombers there, so just pack it up and move to a civilized country. Or save the rest of us your burden and just fucking shoot yourself. I'll mail you a gun and one bullet.
"Dear G,
My baby momma took the kids, the truck, the dog, and she roll. How do I get them back?
-Abandoned"
Okay, judging by your situation, initially I'm guessing you're a brother, but the truck thing is tellin' me you're a cracker, and your lady was probably a cracker too. Let me tell you somethin' I know by experience. Cracker ho's don't like trailers. A cracker ho thinks the projects is paradise compared to the trailer park, so if you wanna find her, just take your white ass to the nearest 'hood. But you won't do dat. Last thing a cracker need, and for that matter the last the projects need is a big lonely cracker wanderin' 'round the hood lookin' for his trashy ho, so basically my advice to you is to just let that bitch go. 'Cuz now you ain't gotta go to da store, you ain't gotta be changin' no daipers, you ain't even gotta walk no dog! Consider it a favor, and get your ass back in that trailer and cook some meth or whatever you honkeys do. Peace!
Thank you, Tyrone, for that thoughtful and sage advice.
That's all for today, we've gotta go get some 40's to calm Tyrone down. But we look forward to your questions and promise we will treat your problems with all the indifference with which we treat our own. Thank you and goodnight!
"Dear G,
I live in New Orleans and my house and city have been destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. My whole property is now a lake. What do I do?
Sincerely,
Underwater in N.O."
Alright Underwater in N.O., I'm gonna make this REAL simple for ya. Basically, there ain't nothin' you can do. You're fucked like McCauley Caulkin at a NAMBLA meeting. You could have done somethin' a month ago, but right now you're screwed up and down and all the way around. My only advice for you and all the rest of your neighbors down there is simply this: LIVE ABOVE SEA LEVEL, ASSHOLES. Same goes for Venetians. Next?
"Dear G,
My brother and I are Shiite Muslims and we were on our way to the Mosque the other day when someone yelled something about a suicide bomber and people got crushed in the stampede, including my brother. Now he's dead. How can something like this be prevented in the future?
-Lonely Shiite"
Give up your ignorant fucking religion and think for your goddamn self. And LIVE SOMEWHERE ELSE, asshole. There's never NOT going to be the threat of suicide bombers there, so just pack it up and move to a civilized country. Or save the rest of us your burden and just fucking shoot yourself. I'll mail you a gun and one bullet.
"Dear G,
My baby momma took the kids, the truck, the dog, and she roll. How do I get them back?
-Abandoned"
Okay, judging by your situation, initially I'm guessing you're a brother, but the truck thing is tellin' me you're a cracker, and your lady was probably a cracker too. Let me tell you somethin' I know by experience. Cracker ho's don't like trailers. A cracker ho thinks the projects is paradise compared to the trailer park, so if you wanna find her, just take your white ass to the nearest 'hood. But you won't do dat. Last thing a cracker need, and for that matter the last the projects need is a big lonely cracker wanderin' 'round the hood lookin' for his trashy ho, so basically my advice to you is to just let that bitch go. 'Cuz now you ain't gotta go to da store, you ain't gotta be changin' no daipers, you ain't even gotta walk no dog! Consider it a favor, and get your ass back in that trailer and cook some meth or whatever you honkeys do. Peace!
Thank you, Tyrone, for that thoughtful and sage advice.
That's all for today, we've gotta go get some 40's to calm Tyrone down. But we look forward to your questions and promise we will treat your problems with all the indifference with which we treat our own. Thank you and goodnight!
posted by D at 31.8.05
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