Reports from the bus stop is a euphemism for all things related to the alternative life style (no, not that lifestyle dumbass, the homeless lifestyle).
Anyhoo, I normally have a great deal of disdain for people who just roll up on me and seek financial favor with nothing more complicated than "Hey gimme some money". Regardless of whether it's urban leisure technicians on the street or corporate fund raising telemarketers, the answer is usually the same.
Naw brotha, I ain't got no spare change, but I got a spare lawn that needs mowing and some spare hedges that could use some trimming. You know anything bout dat? Crickets chirping.
Good morning sir, I'm calling you on behalf of the coalition to help left handed, one eyed, big headed, foreign babies where well under 2.5% of your tax deductible contribution goes directly to provide environmentally conscious fly swatters to those in need. Can I count on you for a lump sum donation of $100 or would you prefer to use your credit card to contribute monthly. Crickets chirping again.
But every once in a while somebody approaches me with a hustle that reflects honesty, intelligence, forethought and just plain resourcefulness. And I have to give credit where credit is due, as well as a couple bucks.
I encountered just such a hustle this weekend on the way to an out of town concert with a bunch of friends. It seems that at this particular downtown venue, there is an error in the mapping algorithm of many GPS units that basically directs travelers down a dead end street where you must make a U-turn.
Now homeboy, being the enterprising individual that he is, has strategically positioned himself beside the sole point of ingress and egress to this little fishing hole. When the unsuspecting prey, is snared in the net homeboy commences to flailing about vigorously so as to get your attention. If you choose to roll down your window, you are generously rewarded with turn specific directions to the concert venue. Of course, once your path is recalculated, this urban leisure technician avails himself of the opportunity to determine if, per chance, you might happen to be in possession of a few unneeded currency notes that you could bear to part with.
Bro, I have seen a lot hustles in my day. Run a few of 'em myself in hard times. But I swear this is the most original and intelligent hustle I think I have ever encountered. Normally, I try not to reward the devil's workshop. But playa, I'm gonna have to give you a dollar on that one just on technical merit alone.
There are big things waiting for you in life, cause you got something special. Keep your head to the sky.
Not just a side man, but "THE" side man. Arguably, the greatest wing man of all time. Without Bobby Byrd there is no James Brown (several times over). Without James Brown the course of western civilization takes a completely different tack.
Sure JB was the hardest working man in showbiz, but the funk he rode to the top was not his own. The funk was in large part created and fueled by he of the call and response.
Nothing less than the fate of western civilization hangs in the balance. So unless you like eating grubs and pooping in the woods you will join my quest to stop mybook and spaceface or whatever the hell they want to call it.
We used to be vigilant against all perils. Now, all the forces of evil will have to do is simply drive into town and set up camp because you dildo's will all be checking your bookface pages to see if they want to be your friend so you can increase your self esteem a notch or two.
Damnit this is what happens when everybody plays every game and everybody wins a trophy. When I was growing up there was a place for everyone on the team alright, it was called the bench. And if you sucked that is exactly where you stayed all season long.
But I digress, the reason for my little rant is my email provider just converted everybody to this stupid setup with all these networking craplets and whatnots. I don't want to know if you are online, I don't want you to know if I am online. I don't want to connect to your Mybook page, I don't want to be your buddy I don't give a damn what your vacation pictures look like if I am not in them. I just want my elfin email.
Somebody stop the world and let me off because no good can come of this.
1. Square plates WTF is that about. Is this crusty assed food supposed to taste better if you put it on a plate with a different shape. If God had intended for plates to be square (s)he wouldn't have invented circles. Let's get this fixed.
2. People who keep pit bulls in urban and suburban settings. Is this supposed to be some kind of trend or something. I don't care that it's a puppy, or that it is a naturally gentle breed, or that it's bad owners who make bad dogs. Pit bulls are nothing less than furry alligators. Nobody thinks its cool to take an alligator to the park. My philosophy on pit bulls is pretty much the same as my philosophy on snakes. The only good one is one that ain't nowhere near me. People who keep snakes are usually kind of weird and not to be trusted.
3. Overweight smoking babies. Not to overstate the obvious but WTF?
4. Elementary school fundraisers. I mean come on, really? Who do they think wants to pay 20 bucks for a cheesecake the size of a cupcake (and that's the cheap shit). Listen kid, what say I give you 5 bucks to go away, I take the other $15 to buy a real cheesecake and we call this whole thing even. Better yet, where's Nana and Peepop. That's why God gave you grandparents, so you would have somebody to pawn this crap off on. When my kids were in school I didn't try to pimp my coworkers (yeah its like that, that bitch better have my money today) I just quietly bought it all up and sent my kids to school with a check. Its time for your parents to take one for the team.
OK that's about it for now. But plan on seeing this updated and posted again.
Oh, and check out bruh man. He raises bitching to an art form.