Well I guess it really was “A Serious Matter”

For you to truly understand this story you must first understand the history. Here we go, this is the story of how I met Dylanta (not her real name have to leave out real names in case I actually do make this a book) so I picked Dylanta (if you know what Dylanta is you’d be laughing).

One faithful Elon Saturday in December, I was pre-gamming with some people I met thru a Physics friend. We had to get from Acorn Residents Inn to Sheridan, lets say a mile which was def. walkable but I don’t make good decisions. I offer to drive and I take the back way, now it is here is where logic fails me. I figured the faster I got there the faster I would be off the roads. I get pulled over of course doing 80 in a 55. Now there are MANY reason why I hated being pulled over in Elon,

1. I am a black male.

2. It jacks up my insurance, and consequently gets me cussed out by my father

3. BUT the main reason I hate it is because, you HAVE to go to court (to get it reduced) where is Burlington’s court house….GRAHAM!!!!!!!!! now just to paint you a picture there are only two ways to get to Graham you can either find, Christopher Lloyd, a Delorian (doing 85 set for 1956) and a Flux Capacitor OR your gonna need Jules Verne. Either way your traveling well over 40 years back in time, its like a 50s themed diner that exploded on to the streets. Oh it gets better the officer who pulls me over ALWAYS fucks up my name, it was actually written on the ticket Kyle Williams, I shit you NOT. This name change puts me last in line of the all day affair, its here you can here such amazing cases as the 3 time offender who likes to put cherry bombs in mailboxes.

For these 3 reasons I was enraged, he gave me the ticket, lectured me, and sent me on my way with the peanut gallery in my car who would have left me there if it wasn’t a dark road. We arrive at Sheridan I am sober from fear and anger, and the guys make it there mission to get me drunk, and I see a coven of black women approaching I know two of them and I can smell the Aggie pride off the rest.

SIDENOTE: The reason that this was bad is not because I don’t respect the historic, rewarding education of HBCU, but these ladies were also from YOU GUESSED IT Prince George’s County, I have found that the PG/A&T Hybrid is a unique form of Black person the ghetto, pro-black, PG blood that is already in them is now nurtured and combined with ignorance and PLEDGING EVERYTHING, who has to pledge to be in a Christian service organization JE PHI SUS NOOOOO!!!! PPL! Oh I shit you not cuz “THEY STEP FOR JESUS CHRIST” anyway this blend of Bama and Ignorance makes for Force.

So when you take a PG/A&T Hybrid drunk to boot, with a tired angry Baltimorian you get a Nigger Moment a slight period of time where educated black people channel the inner B.E.T. that haunts us all.

One girl in the group Dylanta was trying to hook up her friend with one of the white guys I was with “Bob” . So she pushes me out of the way and takes him which is fine I just need to know where the rest of the group went. I just try to ask she gives me the “Shoe Fly Wave”, I try again and she goes “Don’t you see us talking” finally I grab Bob and walk away, the conversation goes like this:

ME: You stupid Aggie Hoe, how’s you T-Cell count
Her: Fuck you, you sell out NI99ER
ME: I will take you weave tie it to a fence and stomp you out of it
Her: Faggy boy
ME: Teenage Mutant Aggie Bitch

I am walking away and her friends take her in the opposite direction but before this, a chant is born.

ME: A PG girl is what a lady aint
what a hoodrat wanna be
what a freak-hoe can't

what a nigga like
and a hobo love
what thug-life just can't get enough of
PG you assholes pg PPPPGG

To be continued……

DON'T YOU DARE JUDGE ME!