Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Mean Begats Mean

I am mean.

Today, I had a moment of clarity and just realized...I'm mean as dog shit. Just mean for no damn reason. Mean cuz I can be mean, gotdamnit. Mean cuz you can’t do a damn thing about it mean! Mean cuz I got it from my momma...uh.

Yeah. I did get it from my momma.

You see, my mother was that MEAN mother on the block. Everybody was scared of her. And she ain't like NONE of them children. You know how MOST mothers try not to talk bad about other peepo's children? Uh...not Moms.

I do NOT want that little nappy-headed nigger on my property, [Nina]. If you don't tell him, I will.

Who's little porch monkey is that? Tell him to stop ringing my doorbell, gotdammit.

That little girl's been outside ALL day. Doesn't her mother let her come inside? It's not like she isn't ALREADY black as shit. Any darker and she'll be a mist.

And she’s supposed to be the cute child? Hell...I’ve seen cuter dogs.

Why is his face so ashy? What does he wash it with...dirt?


Just off the CHAIN, she was. And imagine this – she would enunciate every syllable. Nig-ger. Mo-ther-fuck-er. We called it "talking proper," and that's how she talked. Tongue as foul as two clubs in hell, but her diction was perfect. She punked the whole neighborhood. I never understood why everyone was scared of a 5'3" woman with breast cancer, who most days, was screening such King’s English obscenities out of her sick room window. But she had 'em punked.

Good thing she was a 70’s mom and not a 2000 mom though. Cuz somebody would have shot Mommy.

Maybe it would have gone down something like this:

Mommy: Get your little nigger ass out of my flowers!
Little Boy: I’m sorry, Miss G. I’m sorry!
Mommy: Damn right you’re sorry. I’m sorry just looking at you. Get out of my fucking yard.

*a few minutes later, Little Boy’s mother stomps up the hill*

His Mother: What did you call my son?
Mommy: Who’s asking?
His Mother: I’m his (pointing to her son) mother. And he told me you called him out his name.
Mommy: No, I called his little nigger ass out of my flowers, that’s what I called him…

*plakow! plakow! plakow!*

Mom? Uh...Mom?

Maybe I need to get my mind right. Either that, or don't ever plant any flowers in my front yard.
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3 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Girl...my mama is mean. Her mama is mean. They been trying to tell me I'm an evil ornery good for nothing...for all of time now. They probably will for the remainder of it. Does it feel good to just accept it? AAAAAAAAH must be. I been trying so hard to be nice to people goddammit it aint in my nature. I think I'm just trying to prove the bitches wrong or something. Nothing good comes from trying to be nice. Let me tell ya.

July 28, 2005 1:34 PM  
Blogger Nina MM said...

You're preaching to the choir, iice. Every time I'm nice to somebody, a fool catches me slipping. I gotta be mean just to keep muthafuckas off my back! LOL

July 28, 2005 5:36 PM  
Blogger Fresh said...

Damnnn, Mommy wasn't just mean...she was R.A.W.

July 28, 2005 6:25 PM  

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