iLL to the g.C.
With Gabe Clinito
To all the skank-faces and fist-smellers at MacArthur Middle School...
What’s up, fudge pirates?
G to the Clinito here, and it’s time to say 'what it do, pimpin’ for ’08. First up, my holiday break was a full-time freak show. Got home from military school on a Friday, forced to rake leaves all Saturday, and then we leave for my aunt and uncle’s place on Sunday at Oh-Gay-Thirty (that’s what they call 6:30 a.m. at military academy, fools). Obviously no time to chill in the hood and scope some hot A.
Me and my punkass brother have to share the back of the Astrovan. So I flow some dope tunes through my ear buds, and get to strategizing my label’s next release. And check it, thanks to that beat-ass corncob hole Danny Eggleston stealing back his drum machine because his brother was taking it to college, Ultimate Bad Boy Recordings is going unplugged this year with your favorite local hip hop artists throwing down mad rhymes over raw beat box, yo.
Peep this: Russ Green’s killer single: “Let Me Put It to You (That Way, Boo)” over four different layers of ice-fresh beat boxing from yours truly. Total hotness.
Anyway, back to my in-quotes vacation. Aunt Karen and Uncle Rick live down in Lexington, so you know it was a long-ass drive to nowhere. I hadn’t seen my cousin Andy in like two years, and he’s totally porked out (my mom said it was a pancreatic problem and not his fault, but that’s B.S. -- you should have seen him put away that can of Shoestring Potatoes, homes). I wasn’t looking forward to bunking with him (his room is all Patriots crap and you know this O.G only rolls with the Bengals; yeah!), but once it was lights out, Andy showed his cool side: he totally orchestrated a plan for us to sneak out and stage a major crime spree across his neighborhood. Peep these numbers:
-
Andy and I took turns peeing on people’s front yards. Check it, dude, your lawn got OWNED!
-
For the night’s finale, we decided to go big: we stood on either side of the main street in his subdivision, holding a rope that we laid across the road. Then when cars drove by, we yanked the rope tight and clothes-lined their cars. When people saw the rope come up, they would throw on their brakes and yell at us…it was fun for two or three cars, but then we got bored and decided to try it on this old couple out doing a power walk in the middle of the night. They totally tripped on the rope and wiped out on the asphalt. The man was screaming at us, and his wife was all like, “Oh, oh, oh!” We were laughing so hard, but we took off and totally booked it back to Andy’s place.
Things were looking up for my vacation, except that the next day, we had to go shopping at the Brooktown Mall. Supposed to be some fancy-ass shopping experience, but it looks just like any other mall I’ve ever seen.
So Andy and I ditch our folks and go into Borders to look at some art books with photos of naked chicks. But listen up, fools. I wound up in the wrong section and instead of finding a book on naked art, I picked up a book called “The Art of War” by some Chinese guy. I didn’t really read it, but I did flip around and it looked like it was about how to kick someone’s ass without them realizing you’re kicking their ass. You know, like reverse psychology or something.
Anyways, it got old so we headed down to the food court for what else, Hot-Dog-on-a-Stick, bitchez! We’re standing there in line and there’s all this commotion over on the other side of the food court, and we look and there’s this black guy in a leather jacket and shades getting ice cream with some hot babe. And we’re like, who’s that? And some woman goes, “That’s Jaleel White!” And I’m like, "Who the hell is Jaleel White?” She looks at me like I have AIDS, and goes “He played Urkel on TV.”
Whoever he is, Andy and I decide we’re going to play that retard like a keyboard. We get our food and go sit down about two tables down from Urkel and his chick. They’re talking all sweet and you can tell he thinks he’s the biggest thing to ever happen to this mall, and she’s so hanging on every word he says, and that’s when Andy throws a handful of mustard packets at him. We both play it cool and pretend we’re just eating and stuff. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Urkel look around. He sees us, and he knows what the score is, so he shakes his head and turns around.
Then Andy goes, really quiet like in this high-pitched voice: “Urkel. Urkel. Urkel. Urkel.”
Urkel looks around, and sees us. He says something in our direction, but I can’t hear him because I’m pretending to enjoy my corn dog. Urkel turns around again. His girlfriend looks peee-iissed. Then Andy yells out really loud, “Jerkel Face McGee!” Everyone turns around. I’m about to die laughing. Urkel gets up and comes over.
“Do you have a problem?” he says.
“No, do you, Jaleel?” Andy says.
“Are you trying to start something here? You know, you’re being a little bitch-ass punk.”
“Go back to your skank-ass ho, Urkel,” Andy says.
That’s when Urkel grabs Andy’s shoulder, real firm, and leans in close and says something to him that I can’t hear. But everyone’s looking now, and I think Urkel’s a little afraid of starting a fight here.
He lets go of Andy and walks back over to his girl, shaking his head and laughing…he actually says to some of the people watching from the other tables: “Sorry folks…you know how it is with some kids, these days…what are you gonna do?” And the people laugh. Someone claps.
And that’s when I realize I don’t want anymore of my corn dog. I wait for Urkel to sit down, then I dip my dog all in the mustard left on my napkin and get it nice and wet, then I turn and yell, “I got your corndog, bitch!” and I throw it at him!
The corndog gets a wicked spin on it and hits him on the ear, keeps going and lands on his girl’s chest. Right on the boob! There’s mustard all over his head and her rack!
Andy yells “Snake eyes, beeyotch!”
You can see Urkel’s cool melting, because he knows he’s just been FACED. He gets up to come after us, but Andy and I totally take off running, hanging a hard right past the Great American Steak and Potato Company and throwing a bunch of chairs down behind us! It was just like you see in the movies, only the chairs don’t really slow Urkel down that much, because when we make it out of the food court, I look back and there’s Urkel, right on our asses.
I’m like, dammit! Why doesn’t he just let us go already? We cut left into the Robinson’s May and Andy goes for the ladies’ section, I go for shoes. Urkel sticks to my trail like he wants to kill me. I’m trying to figure out where to go next because he’s gaining on me and I’m not sure I can outrun him (I mean, hello, he is black!), and I’m starting to think I may have to stop and give his crazy ass a beating (you can take the player out of the street, but you can’t take the street out of the player!)
But that’s when I hit that rack of woman’s casual shoes and went flying across the floor in front of everyone. Some woman screams, and I try to get up but then something tells me, “Yo, Clinito. Just chill out here on the floor for a second. I got a plan.”
I looked up and saw Urkel’s face. He was so mad! You should have seen it. And I remembered that book, “The Art of War,” and I tried to imagine what the Chinese dude would do in my situation...he would beat Urkel without letting Urkel know he was being beaten. Then it came to me: I grabbed my leg and pretended to start crying. “Ow! He pushed me into the table! Why’d you do that? It really hurts!”
Everyone stared at Urkel like he had just taken a dump in his pants. He stood there and touched the mustard on his ear like an idiot. But he could see what time it was. I turned on the crybaby routine a little more and a woman bent over to help me. I totally looked down her shirt. Flabby bitch.
Finally Urkel swore and walked away. I found Andy over by the escalator and we met up with our parents at Abercrombie and Fitch and I got a pair of jeans out of the trip. Not too bad, suckers. It pays to read up on Chinese crap.
Clinito out.
Recent Comments