Thursday, December 24, 2009

I’ve Got Impudence Down to a Science; Care to See an Experiment?

Man, it’s so hard not to act reckless…


What it is, what it look like and all that good ol’ stereotypical shxt that I say, have said and will continue to say because I don’t give a gotdang and I can do what I want as this is my own personal slice of cyber-space? How be all of ye? Ready to choke the next person who starts humming or singing the chorus from the maudlin and oh so very depressing song “Christmas Shoes? Feel as though you need a good three cups of Christmas Cheer, two blunts and a partridge in a pear tree to make it through Christmas dinner this year?

You are not alone.

How art I? Fine as a muhfxcka, dandy like Yankee Doodle and peachy keen like um…something that’s keen and full of peaches. I can’t be expected to be brilliant and awe inspiring with my wordplay all the time. Dang, cut me some slack, it’s the holiday season, I’m stressed yo. What is it about Chrismahanukwanzakah that makes people go crazy?

Yesterday, when I first began this post, I…well, peep what I had written

I am not, let me reiterate not in a good mood. Hence this particular title.  If you’re one of the many sitting there trying to master the English language and figure out what it is that I’m saying and what Impudence happens to mean, allow me to define it for you, my mental midgets.

Rude:  showing a lack of respect and excessive boldness

Got it? Good, gold stars, hand-claps and Jello Pudding Pops for you.

So anyway, like I said a paragraph or so ago, ya girl is not in a good mood. Matter of fact, I’m in a quasi-homicidal, cut a bxtch nigga from east to west with a dull butter knife then stab him in the left eye with my second favorite mechanical pencil type of mood. Seems like Dora and her explorin’ ass has pulled the map out of her backpack and told people that it’s in txt messages, in person and over the phone to my last good nerve and these muhfxckas have proceeded to do the merengue, salsa and cha-cha slide all over it.

I’ve got a headache. The Egg Donor must have forgotten that I don’t like to be touched and insists on doing so and I’m actually entertaining the thought of throwing something at her—as I said, not in a good mood but I have managed to retain a bit of my God given sense. Then, there’s the situation that I’ve gotten into because I’ve apparently pissed people off who routinely piss me off with their own special brand of idiocy mixed with inanity…

But, I didn’t finish it. Doing so would surely ensure the dropping of coal into my nonexistent stocking by a non-existing Santa Claus and as I’ve been a pretty decent—if you ignore that incident with my water bottle that one time and a few other incidents that haven’t been put on the blog due to the statue of limitations still being in effect—girl this year. Beside that, I snuck (sneaked?) and took a peak at the Christmas presents that mom has “hidden” in her trunk. I’ve got good shxt comin’ my way in the AM, I’m not about to risk that, you crazy?

I’m done wit’ this one boys, girls, those in between and on the outskirts of each gender, but here’s another present from me to you:
A Huey Freeman Christmas

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