Beyotch Slap The Audience
Damn. I feel for my man Ron Artest. I know that’s a minority opinion, but I still feel for him. He didn’t deserve the drama that went down in Detroit.
Well, maybe he did. I mean, he is an asshole. And he did want a couple of months off so he could complete and promote his rap album. He’s a hot head on the court. And I don’t think he likes babies. Or little kittens. Or white people. He really hates white people, especially if they’re babies, and really especially if they’re white baby kittens. I think I remember him kicking a white baby once. Or maybe that was just one of my dreams. Who know, maybe I’m the one that wouldn’t mind drop kicking a couple of white babies. Who can tell.
So, my man Artest, chillin, goofing off at the announce table, minding his own damn business. And all of a sudden some drunk ass bastard throws a nice tasty beverage on him. And what happens next is understandable, because none of the drink happened to reach his mouth. He was never able to taste that nice frosty cold one, and a person needs a nice frosty one after a couple of hours of running back and forth on the court. Not that I would know. I haven’t ran back and forth, or forward and back, or a couple of feet in front of me since I was 12. Fuck running when you can walk, and you got a car, and there’s public transportation. I’m the kind of bastard who’ll jump in the car to go see a friend a corner away. I’ll jump on a bus I see coming just to go a block downwards. I’m lazy like that.
Anyway, when Artest gets beer mostly on his body, and not in his mouth, he goes berserk in a nice crackhead Rollie rage and races upward in the direction the drink came from, and asks the dude nicely if it was him who threw the drink, and if he was really trying to aim for his mouth, and by mistake, missed, and it hit his body. The man goes beyotch and shakes and pisses on himself and denies he even exists. And Artest starts beating the shit outta the dude. And who can blame him. I would have beat the man’s ass myself, so to speak.
There are several things you don’t do to a man: you don’t spit on him, you don’t punch or kick him, and you don’t throw wet shit like beer and wine on him. Sorry people, but that’s grounds for an ass-kicking. People been watching too many movies, people pouring drinks over each other’s heads, and slapping each other. This ain’t the 40s or the Three Stooges or an episode of Dallas. This is the real world. In the real world, all that crazy drunkin’ shit ends with a foot in the ass.
People think if they’re up in the stands, they’re immune to an ass-whupping. People spit on players at football games. They jump out of the stands and onto the playing field in baseball. And now dumb ass fans are throwing drinks on players in basketball. And these asshole expect that no one has the right to react to that shit? I’m sorry. Fuck you. I’m glad Artest went up there and started whupping ass. That’ll stop the next drunkin’ asshole from thinking of even doing that shit. Now he knows big ass black dudes will come up those steps and fuck that bloated ass up.
And it won’t be in an Elton John, late night candlelight, sweet lovin’ kind of way either.
Assholes.
Recently
Leave a Reply