There’s a fuckin epidemic sweeping across our nation and it needs to be stopped. Someone get the motherfuckin CDC on the phone in dis byitch. Is their number still 1-800-HELP-BITCH-HELP!? No, I’m not talking about ebola, whooping cough, or Birdman flu. That last one is similar to the bird flu, except this particular disease makes your dumb ass rap horribly and make god-awful cockatoo-like sounds as a replacement for hooks in your songs. Those aside, the epidemic I’m spittin about is fancy ass fucking food. I’m talking about flavored foams, popping “caviar style” liquid bubbles, and making shit look or taste like some shit it shouldn’t look or taste like. Im talking about that molecular gastronomy bullshit. If you’re a cultured, refined, and well traveled motherfucker like me, then you know what the fuck I mean. But you’re probably not, you dirty derelict. But hypothetically, if you was, you go to a dinner, get a bunch of one-bite dishes of some picasso-on-a-plate looking bullshit, eat it, don’t know what the hell you just ate, pay $200, and then go hit Del Taco or In-N-Out after. This fuckery has gone too far.
BLING BLING BYITCH!
Ya’ll know me. I enjoy talking about any shit under the sun. Even things like cars, tech, and other materialistic things. But the reality is, it’s like window shopping for me. I’m thrifty as a mother fucker. Just talking about it more than satisfies any curiosity I have about those things because I learned at a young mother fucking age to save my money, live within my means, and get a good fucking deal when it finally was time to buy something.
This shit goes back to my youth. When I was young and wanted some dumb ass G.I.JOE SR71 Blackbird or Zap-it disappearing color water gun or whatever, my dad would always make me trade something in exchange for it. Sure I could have that water gun if I took out the trash for 2 weeks straight. Or mow the lawn a few times. Or recited all the motherfucking states in the U.S. a thousand times.
YO BABY DUMB.
I’m a dad now, so my life has drastically changed in the last few months. Some for the better, some for the worse, but irreversibly changed, nonetheless. When you become a dad and you’re as motherfuckin observant as me, you notice things. You see things. And you know what I see? Dumb fuktard parents buying up useless expensive shit for their dumbass babies, all to try and feel like they're being good parents.
Look, I grew up in a house where I literally thought we were going to be on welfare every day. My parents made it seem like we were a fucking pack of Upper Deck basketball cards away from being broke, and it wasn’t until only recently that I realized that they were pretty well off. I should mention they’re both doctors. I guess I should’ve known earlier, but they were (and still are) so goddamn cheap that any motherfucker would be fooled.