derrieres de allison & co.

mark twain once sed sumn to the effect dat he din waan be part of anyting dats exclusive. fuck dat. i crashed beepat's private party for soca artiste allison hinds lasnite an beleev me it was worth it. but there were a few anxious moments wen me an a bredren approach de gate. a displaced guyanese by way of N.Y pose off at de gate with a list. i din too worried den cuz me bredren popula-ish. i thought it wudda be a shoo-in. dis guyankee scan he list...john sing, ram sing, peter tosh, annoyance crew...no bakanal. i start tinkin bout de embarrassment. is a lang walk back to de main road. dis time i got on me passa passa shoes an a tite jeans. couldnt find me sista jewel box fe get she version of a platinum chain. i wudda really be passa passarin. i even wear drawz...anyways, we get in afta anotha bredren i.d'ed us an i finally saw how de otha 5 percent does live. anyways...allison an she entourage appeared an my o my!!!! if u see de ass on dat woman! but it wasnt she who made me nite. one o she dancers got a tail like an alligatuh. some gravity-defying-symetrically crafted-taut, luscious buns. then again, jeans are da best ting since slice bread. but on da real. small waist with flarin hips...mmm mmm mmmm. anyways de nite couldn done witout licka. tried one impulse. dat was enuff for me. dont exactly hav de outlet for de energy. switched to vodka...mo my speed. so i mixed an mingled wit de cream of de cream of de in crowd. was like bein on gtvibes.com. i tried to sneak in front of a coupla cameras but de ppl did wise to me. anyways de nite wear on an de party bruk up early. we end up at de only tursday nite party in gt. de "line top." home of passa passa. guiness bar at plaisance. aye. i see a gyal who drawz longa dan she skirt. fu real. we start beat de guinness. de flippin ting comin fasta dan i coulda emty me hand. at one time i had four. is de firs time in me life i had to run from drinks. den to top off de evenin i end up in a cyar way de driver still learnin the fine art of stickin to his own lane. apparently he din like de soun of tyres pon asphalt so he kep tryin to drive pon de embankment. talk about runnin from jumbie an buttin up to de coffin. dahlin bring de fiya wata!!!

shenanigans

The raucous voices of boys at play disturb the otherwise quiet environs just beyond the wall where i sit. It's 1.10 p.m...Friday. They should be at school i think. I can hear strains of jamie foxx and ludacris belting out a refix of ray charles' haunting 'georgia.' Two lots away someone is hawking the phlegm from their throat. A nasty sound that puckers my ass and crawls my skin. Time does its thing.
Some of the boys depart. Those who remain are now subdued. their backs thump against the thin wall as they sit. Their voices carry quietly through to me. The usual chatter..."you eva see da movie...
I try not to make a sound. The job with which i had been preoccupied for the past 23 minutes almost forgotten with this hark back to days gone by. Even the traffic seems to have stopped... as if a siesta had descended on this most urban of areas. Not a dog barks. Serenity.
then BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP! A fart rips free from my ass and careens off the sides of the toilet bowl, reverberating within the walls of the steamy shithouse. My nose burns, my eyes water, my ass erupts.
Yes! Yes! Freeedooom! Hasta manana la constipacion. Viva la shit!

what the....?!

fcuk! an i dont mean french connection. bakanal gaan large! weekend confidential an shit. but i gat som issues. "insomniac slacker?" nite club aint mek fe dag an cyat star. sombady gatta do de partyin. shit..ppl now readin de freakin blog. fuck it. went in de ravens/pacesetters game lasnite. whole nite setters got dem pon lockdown. i luvin it. u know dem idiots run ouuta steam in de 4th qtr? they like west indies. shit. betta not go there. anyways...ravens blo dem out. so is gt ravens and linden's kings in tuesday's finals. cyaan miss dat. aye...next level entertainment shoud giv me a cut o de takins fe promotin they game. all in all i had fun. is de firs time i sport pon heineken. up and down de stands. de fookin beers had me pissin all de time. u see...dats why i prefer me vodka an cranberry juice...or a guinness. so we end up in de club after de game. a few men an nuff gyal. jus de way i like it. a side note...a fren seh u know a club goin down wen they start de passa passa ting. but i see a new club de other nite had passa passa too. anyways... i had a nice lil ting fe wine pon. din even get high. but guess wha...me fuckin thighs killin me. she short. i cyaan do dem squat an wine ting no mo. one time i wine an go down wid she an almost coudnt mek it up back. is a good ting me bredren de deh nearby an give me a brace. ah true dat!shit...shit! me boss comin i gon.

lata.

Oscar night

So the Oscars have come and gone. Hurrah , Brokeback Mountain didnt win. Long live Crash...and Capote actor phillip hoffman...at least i think that's his name. its the only category i knew would be a sure ting. he was exceptional. now bear with me. im celebrating...slightly inebriated but thats to b expected. sunday nite and all. But turnin to the local actin scene i think commisioner effex should b tossed in jai l at the least.