Seriously, what is it? I know what that term means because of all the dumbasses on YouTube who type like teenage slack-jawed inbreds, but is it part of some retarded dialect I've never known about? An example of what I'm referring to:
Your jst mad coz ur a looser nd ur dum nd ugly af
First of all, if you're going to insult somebody, learn how to fucking spell. Insulting someone's character when your spelling, grammar, and intelligence are highly questionable pretty much nullifies the whole insult altogether.
Second of all, stop fucking saying/typing "af" after a fucking adjective!!! It is spelled like this: ugly as fuck. Just type the shit out and save yourself the embarrassment of looking like some ignorant teenager who flunked First Grade English.
If you still don't comprehend what I am conveying to you, then click on the link at the bottom to view my profanity-laced blog in which I describe (rather vividly) what pisses me off about horrible grammar and spelling.
Ray J...you stupid, ignorant, simp ass fool!!! You don't make music bragging about some famous skank you slept with! Just like a female shouldn't brag about some dude she slept with, that is in violation of the G-Code. Not classy, man.
Now tell me this...why the hell would he put out a song about how he tapped the biggest ho in Hollywood whose cooch is stretched longer than it takes to spell "Supercalifragilisticexpialedocious" (and I still can't spell that shit worth a lifeline on "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire)?! The same skeezer he did that infamous sex tape with. The same slut who was on her knees slobbering on his dick like it was the last hot dog at Wienerschnitzel. The same bitch who let him piss on her. And lastly, the same cunt who thought it was cool to get knocked up by the biggest Captain Save-A-Ho in the rap industry while she's still married to his homeboy's employee basketball player.
What had me question this guy was the last few bars of his latest song, "...And if you were to come back to me girl, we'll make another movie." Not defending Kim Kumguzzlian (I was leaning more towards SkankAssian), but she's moved on to many more rich black dicks after you, man. If she were to come back to you (and that's a big "if) after leaving Kanye and the baby, then her pussy will be so stretched out that it'll put the 405 Freeway to shame from all the traffic that ran through it.
On top of that, why would you even come up with a song title like "I hit it first?" Even though I know the reason why you even call it that (because he shot her to fame with a fucking sex tape), you're really not the first, technically speaking. Her walls weren't so sugary by the time you ate them. A brief list of names (you might be somewhere in the middle)
TJ Jackson
Some other names we don't even know after TJ
Nick Lachey
Nick Cannon
Damon Thomas
Yes, Ray J himself
Bow Wow (Kim likes that young, tender meat)
Shengo the bodyguard
Miles Austin (who added Miles to her miles)
Reggie Bush (surprised the entire New Orleans Saints didn't run a train on her)
Kris Humphries
And many more...
And currently, Kanye West
The next wave of black men whose dicks Kim Kardashian will suck...To Be Continued
As I said in my previous blog, I won't accept that "you're just jealous because she's famous" bullshit. And don't even tell me she's got class. As far as class goes, Ray J, Kim, and Kanye don't even possess an iota of it. Class doesn't mean trading your soul for money and fame by way of a sex tape. Class doesn't mean some bogus marriage for 72 days, then turn around and let your new lover let his cum swim around in your uterus. If that equals class, then my ass may as well be royalty!
Last month, I blogged about a famous Hollywood skeezer who goes by the name of Kim Kardashian (that name alone makes me want to puke) and her rise to fame from a damn sex tape.
Yeah, this ho
What boggles my mind is that there are people who look up to this ratchet and go through all ends of the earth to defend her. Yeah, she did a few photo shoots, endorsed some shitty products, starred in a couple shows and a movie here and there, put a song out (which caused my IQ to drop significantly), and has a tawdry clothing line that I wouldn't give to my neighbor's pit bulls (they're dogs and they have more dignity than a Kardashian). However, that does not mean she is a model, actress, or businesswoman. She just slaps her name on some shit she can make a dollar from (even her abnormally large ass and supposedly pregnant belly), and her fans support her 100%. Then when you try to present her stans with the truth, they want to cuss you out and use their most classic argument against you, "Your jst a jelous hater coz shes rich n famouse nd your not. LEAVE HER ALONE!!!" But I have something to tell all you Kardashian stans: That argument is not going to work.
Firstly, nobody's jealous of some slut who sucked off Ray J, let him eat her cooch, and also let him enter through the back door and requests that he skeets on her face. Not to mention just about every rich black man in the entertainment industry walked into her 7-Eleven and paid for a Kardashian-flavored Slurpee (I do not even want to know what that tastes like [ugh]).
Secondly, why do you Retardashians go through lengths to defend this skank?! Allow me to put it bluntly in my native dialect: Stop defending this ho. Bitch don't give a shit about you and your life. She ain't paying for your bills, she ain't paying for your food or rent, and she damn sure ain't paying for your car note to get from point A to point B. But yet you still worship this lil' ratchet ass skeezer like she was the Second Coming of Christ.
Thirdly, stop using her half-to-damn near fully naked photo spreads, TV/movie guest roles, failed endorsements, trashy clothing line, and bullshit song as an excuse to say she's a model, actress, and businesswoman. She's a ho. Point blank. Even that sorry ass reality show (if you can call it that) is just another way she whores herself out.
Fourthly, Kim Whoredashian is as guilty as every rich man she sleeps with or has slept with...or married. (Kris Humphries, anybody?) She marries the dude; 72 days later, she wants to divorce him (if you're ever on YouTube, look up Snoop Dogg clowning this slut to pieces). And you steadily defend this cunt and call him all types of losers and shit (her stans call him a "looser"*) while Kanye West and lines of other rich men are out there sliding their dicks up in that wide load called her pussy, because she pulled the wool so far over your eyes that you are mentally brainwashed to the point of no return.
And lastly, just because somebody is beautiful, rich, and famous, that does not mean their looks should give them a pass. And you wanna tell people to stop judging her (or others). We are judging her based on her actions, which probably aren't heartfelt to begin with (she gets that from her skankalicious bitch of a mother).
*Brief English Lesson for all you stans out there
Loose =/= Lose. Two separate words, two different meanings. They are never to be used interchangeably, you dumbasses.
Loose means not tight, no elasticity. I shall give you an example:
"Kim K's pussy is loose because she's been run through by every man in Hollywood more than they run through red lights on 63rd & Crenshaw."
Lose means to not gain or not win. Here's another example:
"Kim K stands to lose her money and credibility once Kris Humphries is granted annulment."
There's a comment box below. Use it wisely. But if you are indeed a Kardashian Karpet Muncher or a Kim K Kiss-ass and use that same recycled argument over her supposed "greatness," then I'm going to treat said argument like some bad credit: you will not be approved.
Ah yes, Walmart. The place to go if you want to "save money, live better," according to their slogan.
As a customer, let me just say that's a crock of hot, steaming bullshit.
The above picture is the local Walmart in Baldwin Hills, one of the many neighborhoods that make up South Central Los Angeles. At first I thought it was cool, seeing as though the only way to ever get to a Walmart was to go to the one in the city of Lakewood (which I was most familiar with at the time), but as the years progressed, this particular location (L.A., that is) began looking more unkempt as I continued shopping there. Some examples:
People squirting paint all over the shelves
Lack of crochet hooks and knitting needles (most likely stolen)
More paint squirted all over shelves and yarn, too
Somebody explain why the hell people are squirting paint on the shelves, stealing knitting needles and crochet hooks, and tearing through yarn like this is a playhouse for ratchets. You don't do that!!! And that's just the tip of the iceberg. You go outside the store and it's nothing but hustlers and solicitors selling bootleg movies, music, posters and other counterfeit goods, or somebody's trying to get you to sign some petition to put whatever they're promoting on the ballot and you don't even know what they're planning to do with your personal information. Or, you'll even see something like this taped to a bus shelter in front of this here Walmart:
Don't ever call this number! It's a scam!!!
I even came across this at the parking lot in front:
That's my whole gripe with Walmart (Los Angeles), basically. It's already gotten past the point to where I have to travel to another location to get what I need. And even I have to go to an alternate location because the first alternate location is just as ratchet as the main location. By the first alternate, I mean the one in the LBC, or as I jokingly like to call it, "South Central Long Beach" (only because parts of that city are just as ghetto as Los Angeles, if not overly ghetto).
And it also pisses me off that they don't even keep certain products in stock. I can go to my local Walmart to get some yarn to crochet with, and they don't even have certain colors I want. Most of the time, they hardly have any yarn in stock. The shelves are basically 80% empty to begin with. What's also bad about this location is that it's connected to the mall (better known as the Crenshaw Mall to us Angelenos), so you have ratchets trafficking in and out the place. The one in Long Beach (by the Metro Blue Line) is no different. Ratchets everywhere!!! Because of said ratchetry, it's to the point where I have to take my black ass up to my favorite city (just so you know, my favorite city is Norwalk, CA) just to get some decent customer service at Walmart. Not that there's anything wrong with the people who work at the one in Los Angeles (I know most of the staff there, anyway), but a person can only take so much ratchetness.
Now tell me if your local Walmart is as ratchet as this one. Drop off your story in the comments box.
I'm talking about PDA (Public Displays of Affection), only cool if you're holding hands, resting your head on your lover's shoulder, or giving each other a quick peck on the lips or cheek. Nobody wants to see you exchanging one another's saliva in front of everybody or propping your legs on those of your lover (if you're a girl, that is)! There's a flea bag motel around the corner if you wanna make out!!!
One of my biggest gripes about PDA is if I'm on a bus or train with my man and we spot another couple (usually one who hasn't graduated high school yet) eating at each other's tongues for dessert. Yeah I know it's that whole "first love" thing or whatever, their hormones are raging, and they are so much into each other that they want to show everybody that they're really in love...only to break up two weeks later (and yes, I was guilty of that back in the day).
Another humorous moment was when I caught some goth couple groping each other and swapping spit in front of a Walmart in Long Beach. I told them, "Get a hotel room!" The girl's response: "You buyin'?" Note: Do not try this with all couples. This could lead to being in ICU at a hospital.
But seriously, don't make out in front of everybody whether you're on the bus, train, or wherever else you little horny asses choose to suck face and fondle each other explicitly. This is not El Camino College* (one of the worst places to study in Los Angeles County).
*A little information about ECC: This school is known for having low-key spots for couples to make out and fuck each other loco. Going by memory, the most common locations I can think of are:
The Girls' bathroom at the Student Activities Center
Piano Room 112 (no pun intended) in the Music Building
Bathrooms at the Boys' Basketball Gym (Lysol required at all times in every location)
Now can I get a witness! You got a tale of some nasty ass PDA? Then deposit your story in the Safety Comments Box.
Like many people of this world, I have pet peeves. One of them happens to be Uggs. Be they name-brand or generic, I hate Uggs. I hate them even more if they look like this...
If someone catches you wearing a pair of Uggs (brand or otherwise) that look like they're screaming "Lawd have mercy on my sole," go find yourself the nearest landfill and bury them (and yourself too, while you're at it).
Yes, for the billionth time it has been said, but they're called UGGs for a reason. It is because they are Ugg...ly. Seriously, what type of ratchet ass female walks around...never mind. I think I know the answer. Stupid broads who are stans of pop culture and all that other useless bullshit. But that's not the point.
(You dropped an F-bomb on me)
I'm curious about one thing: Why the fuck are these dumb ass skeezers wearing Uggs in some fucked-up weather?! It can be 100 fucking degrees out here for fuck's sake (this is fucking Los Angeles for fucking crying out loud) and y'all got some fucking nerve to be wearing some fucking Uggs out in the fucking heat?! That leads me to that classic, 2-word statement: Bitch please!
Or worse, it could be raining like hell and a girl could wear a pair of Uggs, only for them to later on look like a soggy version of that new burger from Jack In The Box--a Hot Mess (Thank goodness it doesn't snow in Los Angeles or else you'd really be shit outta luck). Just so you know, Uggs cannot and will not protect you from the elements of nature. You get a little water or mud on them, then...
Yeah...game over. Uggs are dead.
Also, throw away your Uggs before you tear up your feet. Let me repeat that again...before you tear up your feet. Wearing Uggs for prolonged periods may lead to corns, bunions, hammer toes, ingrown toenails, fungus, tendinitis...you disgusted now? They have no arch support and will splay (meaning your Uggs will look beat up and turned over like your feet are walking sideways on the bunion) if worn for a long time. So unless you want your precious little footsies to look like your toenails eat cement for breakfast, hang it up. Your feet will be eternally grateful.
You can start slinging your comments. What I will not accept is that same old, tired-ass argument that "u jst hate uggs coz u cant afford them," so don't come back to this blog and start crying about a nasty pound of mold growing on your feet because you took your Uggs through Hell and back.
Think of this blog as sort of a companion to trashy daytime TV. Because, that's exactly what the hell it is.
I made a post about ratchet talk shows a while back. And what would a talk show be without this dude?
The Everest College Guy - Pissing off North America, one commercial at a time
I could be lost in watching either Maury, Jerry, Steve, or Trisha...all of a sudden I get dragged back down to earth by the sound of this muthafucka.
You've all heard the commercial: "You're sittin' on the couch, you're watchin' TV, and your life is passing you by. You keep procrastinatin' over and over. 'Well maybe I'll go next year, I'll go next semester...' NO, DO IT RIGHT NOW!!!" (Watch commercial for emphasis)
First of all, Tunde (yes, I know your name, fool), I don't need you to tell me what the fuck to do with my life. You got some audacity to pop up on my TV and jump down my throat about my choices and you're standing in front of some busted apartment complex in a damn parking lot at 2am. Bitch please!!! And look at your attire. You're getting on my case about some bullshit school and you got on a dingy white T-shirt and some tired ass snapback cocked over to the right. You're not cute. And don't you roll your eyes and turn your back at me when I'm talking to you, you ratchet son of a bitch! And if you ever interrupt my daytime programs when I'm trying to find out if Damiante is the father of LaTranisha's baby, then I'm going to personally find you and drop-kick you in the mouth!
The above paragraph would be an exaggerated reaction to this TV ad during the first commercial break of Maury, Jerry Springer, Steve Wilkos, Judge Mathis...daytime TV in general. The more standard reaction would be for a person to yell at Tunde while they're fumbling about for the remote to either mute the TV or change the channel. It's obvious that his voice is more shrill than Beyonce's singing (I'm surprised I'm not deaf yet).
And one question to the Everest College guy: Who learnt you how to spoke? (Go look at that blog if you haven't yet) "They out to help you..." No, they out to throw an English book in your face if you don't stop dropping your verbs. (N-word ahead, watch out) Nobody's going to take you seriously if you talk like some ratchet nigga off Crenshaw and Slauson (see picture below).
My stomping grounds ^_^
For some reason they always show this commercial on the CW and Fox & CBS affiliates. Why is that? Are ABC and NBC not ratchet enough? Let me know if the Everest guy pisses you off as much as he does me. The comment box is your friend.
There was a time in my young life that I used to hate talk shows. I found them rather boring, and instead I would go outside with my cousin and our broken telephone cord that we'd use as a makeshift jump rope. Nostalgia trip aside, I've long since developed an interest in talk shows...to a certain extent. I blame that interest on another cousin in my family (LOL). We were just thirteen-yr-olds when we started watching trash like Jerry Springer, Maury, and Jenny Jones (who hasn't been seen or heard this past decade). Now, it's pretty much predictable (well, not all shows), and some new faces have been thrown in the mix.
First up: Maury Povich
Guy's been around for a couple of decades. His claim to fame actually started from a show he hosted called "A Current Affair," a news program that dealt with current events (pun intended?) back in the 80's. Oh, and he is also married to fellow journalist Connie Chung, formerly of CBS News. So how could a guy like Maury, given his extensive journalistic background, resort to hosting a trashy TV show? Like that classic Tootsie Pop commercial, the world may never know.
A paternity episode, save for the filler
Maury's biggest cash cow on his show are the ever-infamous paternity episodes. The formula for these segments are pretty transparent; even a two-yr-old can figure out this shit. Girl tests one guy or a number of others for paternity of her baby; guy calls girl all types of bitches, hoes, and ratchets, and denies paternity of said baby (both the girls and the guys sound like they're reading cue cards every time they bad-mouth each other); Maury brings out guy and audience boos him; girl and guy have a screaming match; Maury pulls out the results. This could end in either two ways:
If the guy is proven not to be the father of the girl's baby, she runs off stage crying and he starts dancing like he was on Soul Train or whatever. But...
If the guy is proven to be the father, then either the guy runs off stage or the girl will get up in his face and start cussing him out about paying child support.
That's pretty much Maury in a nutshell.
But he's not only infamous for the paternity shows. The lie detector episodes are just as hilarious as the paternity ones (which I've since denounced because they were predictable, at best). For instance, girl thinks guy is cheating because she found some stains on his boxers; guy denies everything and claims it was milk or powdered sugar (since when does semen taste like powdered sugar or milk?); audience boos guy; Maury shows girl a video of guy kissing "the sexy decoy"; Maury pulls out the results; guy is busted for lying by the polygraph; girl cusses out guy; Maury tells them to meet with his counselor. Yep, that's good ol' Maury for ya.
But amidst all this trashiness, Maury has sort of a protegee in the form of Trisha Goddard, a soul sister from across the pond. She already made a name for herself in her native England and has her own talk show here in the States, quite reminiscent of Maury (think of her show as more or less a spin-off). No need to elaborate on this one.
Then there's ol' Jerry Springer. The basis of the show really needs no explanation; most of his guests are comprised of rednecks/trailer trash, gays/transsexuals, or even redneck/trailer trash gays and/or trannies. Girl cheats on guy, or guy cheats on girl; other guests comes out and fights/pulls hair; mom/dad defends whichever guest; girl leaves guy or guy leaves girl. Then the audience chimes in and either makes snaps on the guests or wants to fight one of them, or some random girls flash their tits for some beads (this ain't fucking Mardi Gras, damn it!).
Another interesting bit about Jerry is that one of his former bald-headed security guards on the show hosted a few episodes, and eventually got his own talk show. That guy would be our good friend, Steve Wilkos. While he's known for the guy whose head everybody loved to rub on the Jerry Springer show, he's also the guy known for throwing chairs around and jumping down the throats of woman-beaters, rapists, and child molesters. Some people may find him to be too extreme, but so what? We need more guys like him to help eradicate the pedophiles and perverts of this country. Now I wouldn't call him trashy, but there's that whole "guilt by association" thing...
And lastly, we have another bloke who has graced American airwaves since 2011. That "bloke" I'm referring to is Jeremy Kyle, who is like an amalgamation of Jerry, Maury, and Steve with an English accent. Need I say more?
Now folks, I need to know what you think of these talk shows. You already know what to do; the comment box is waiting.
Welcome to another installment of The Ratchet Files. Today, I will be discussing...
Why the fuck are these young-minded girls getting these half-assed mohawks?! Shit ain't cute.
Not to mention, they go and get a weave added to said half-assed mohawk.
It wasn't as bad when one person rocked this style, but soon as the rest of these ratchetlings jump on the bandwagon...every 'hood became another amusement park: Ratchet Land. You got girls walking around the neighborhood looking like they intentionally wanted to get zeeked.
My thing is, if girls are going to cut their hair, they should at least get it to where it can actually be styled or just not cut it at all. I'm sorry, but if you're going to walk around the block or go anywhere looking like a half-Sinead O'Connor with a tan, then please stay in the house.
All this happened when I was traveling through a small town just east of Los Angeles. To all you Angelenos out there, I'm referring to the sleepy city of Norwalk (well, not so sleepy). I got on the bus to further explore any uncharted territory when I caught notice of every passenger holding their noses. I asked myself why everybody was doing such a thing, only to find my answer in the form of some crusty ass bum who doesn't know the definition of a bath. Not even Calgon could take me away as she was smelling foul beyond foul. By the time we got to the station, everyone cleared off the bus as though there was a mass murderer with a shotgun on the bus. Sadly, my Norwalk trip was a bust.
The point I'd like to emphasize is that one should not board any form of public transportation without making sure their hygiene is in check. It doesn't make sense that somebody gets on the bus and they don't care that every passenger knows they smell like the 10 Fwy underpass after dark (you know a person smells when you have to use a location to describe the intensity of the stench). I've run into some folks who are down on their luck and they go out of their way to stay clean and proper.
Also, don't get on the bus if you are incoherent, or just plain stupid drunk. Otherwise you might end up like this:
This video stemmed from an incident in the year 2012 where I caught the bus from Union Station in downtown Los Angeles back to my place. Once again for my fellow Angelenos, you know where I'm referring to. For all those not familiar with Los Angeles, this is LACMTA Bus Line 40, a route that will take you from Union Station to a shopping mall in the city of Redondo Beach called the South Bay Galleria, and vice-versa. The female in the front of the bus was abhorrently inebriated. Drunk beyond drunk. Watch the video to see what transpired. Seriously, if you're going to board the bus, please sober up first. You will make your and everyone else's ride more pleasant.
I'd also like to emphasize this: TURN YOUR FUCKING MUSIC DOWN WHEN YOU'RE ON THE FUCKING BUS!!! Nothing worse than when a person in deep thought only for their meditations to be interrupted by the sounds of Lil' Wayne or some other nameless bubblegum pop rapper. Headphones and earbuds were invented for a reason. Stop that shit. Or risk getting your cell phone Hulk-smashed.
