I was up at Boots the chemist, you know getting something for my personal itch, I ended up not with cream but got a back scratcher instead, a lot more satisfying, I had just stepped outside when I heard loud, booming music, it was like, YO YO YO, I'm a P Lover, a mother fucking brother, got my Gat, etc etc, you know the type, I'm a little old white guy I'm not into this ya ya ya banjo music, I turned slowly expecting to see some kind of pimped up car with spinning wheel hubs and several large Black guys with those panties on their heads wearing hoodies and pants around their knees to show off their boxers, I've noticed they never wear briefs is that like a fashion faux pas?, and why do they always try to stare you down?, is a little old white guy with a wooden leg so threatening?. Hold on, don't say this is racist, its what they do, ok? clear with that?, what do you mean they?, OK I love the black man, I've seen Zulu 8 times , I loved Roots and that Holly Berry girl is a pretty wee thing.
Well, I'm outside of Boots, slowly turning and what do I see?, a Black Ford Focus, the door opens, sitting half in and half out of his car, music still blaring was this skinny, white, red headed, 30 something guy, bobbing away to the music, mouthing all the words, well I had to turn away or he'd see me laughing, he jumps out, and starts yelling on his cell phone as everyone does, the guy is wearing a Hawaiian shirt, you know hes single, lives with his mum, and is a computer game designer, he also is in denial that hes white, oh so very white,in fact he glows as only us white people can, and hes in his mid 30s, please, tell these people if you know them how sad they are, start a support group and make them listen to Cliff Richards or some other very white music, but it has to stop, Stop! the Gangsta Wiggers, nevermind White Pride, how about White self respect that Wigga be a gangsta.
0 comments:
Post a Comment