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#a drug addicted shit-hustler…
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by unofficial
Freudismes
somewhere in a chic salle d’attente with 3 Eames chairs and a Rothko.
———
Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and they will come forth, later, in uglier ways.
Sigmund Freud
——-
Freud was a…
fuk’n wanker…
a perpetrator of blah blah blah…
a drug addicted shit-hustler…
perfecting behavioral health farming…
to keep the cash rolling in…
by guiding miserable sheep…
to genuflect…hail mary…& suck cock…
whilst imparting erudite stuff…
and brain sequencing obtuse mysteries…
that you can’t possibly cram into one session…
——-
goddess grant me serenity…
before I go way Oedipal…
and start smashing the maternal kitty…
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Pain Hustlers
It was such a good movie about the opioid crisis in the US, especially about the drug called "Fentanyl".
The actors were very good. It was nice to see Andy García again.
The movie is based on the work of journalist and author Evan Hughes, who broke the story of pharmaceutical company Insys and its kickback scheme which incentivized doctors to recommend the fentanyl-based drug Subsys to other prescribers. The Zanna of the movie, and its drug Lorafen, are thinly-veiled analogues of Insys and Subsys.
Three things that didn't make sense : 1. Liza and Pete not having at least fucked once. 2. Liza going to the FBI to denounce her own company (before vest her shares), caring about the deaths (overdoses) knowing that Pete was saying at the beginning of the story that she didn't give a fuck about anyone. 3. Not having enough money for her daughter's operation.
Some quotes:
"- Look, the thing about Liza is, she didn't give a fuck...about anybody." (Pete)
"- If it's such a terrific medication, why is your market penetration under 1%?" (Liza)
"- Brent Larkin, VP of marketing, a backstabbing snake hired for his bionic ability to make you wanna buy the opposite of whatever he was selling. " (Pete)
"- Big Pharma's about finding that gray line, getting close without crossing over."
"- What I hate are insubordinate shitheels who's risk the reputation of this company. This company has no reputation 'cause you never risk shit."
"- Dr. Jack's rule. PhDs only. (Pete) - Well, none of them are PhDs. (Liza) - "Poor, hungry, and dumb." In your case, the "D" stood for "desperate". (Pete)
"- Oh, I can pay full tuition. Money's dignity. Not having to beg for a break. Can't tell you what it meant to finally be one of those people you can't shame, shake down, or fuck over." (Liza)
"- No, I mean, I don't feel any different. I feel just the fucking same. (Liza) - What is it? What? What's up your ass? (Pete) - Don't you sometimes wish that we were here 'cause we done something remarkable, something meaningful, and not because everyone's a greedy piece of shit? Ever think that? (Liza) - What do you want me to tell ya? (Pete) - Fix the programs. (Liza) - Can I see your tits? You know, I really love you. Just... (Pete) - Stop this. Stop. (Liza) - Is there any version of this where we end up fucking? (Pete) - Never. Never. (Liza)
"- Must've been good to get a greedy fuck like you to rat before you cashed out. (Pete) - Oh, you don't know me. (Liza) - I am you, Liza! We're just selfish pieces of shit. Only with you, there's no limit. (Pete) - No, I'm nothing like you. (Liza) - I hope you fucking die." (Pete)
"- The study was false? (Interviewer) - The study was accurate. Out of a test group of 200 patients under clinical observation for two years, there was only one confirmed fentanyl overdose. What they left out was that the drug was administered to opioid tolerant patients by responsable doctors who weren't being paid to crank the doses and addict people. Not only that, the clinical subjects were stage 4 cancer patients. So before abuse became an issue, most of them were dead. For non-terminal patients, they concluded that the risk of overdose and addiction were all incredibly high... because, um, well, pardon me, but no shit, it's fentanyl."
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Whenever I want to raise my vibration to prove I'm worthy of being spoiled, I:
Watch movie scenes of iconic sirens and seductresses getting exactly what they want.
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I turn on my speaker, listen to the hypnotizing music that plays as the women do their thing to tantalize these poor, wealthy men, and remind myself....
I can do that with pure ease, if I really wanted to.
Now, hear me out....
Sharon Stone in Casino as she throws the chips and wins over the heart of Ace, (or whatever his name is.)
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Maddy from Euphoria making her shitty boyfriend fall for her, and doing it with pure ease to get whatever she wants, since she knows he's bad at sex, and, she has tons of options outside of him. He wants her, but she doesn't need him.
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Even Karen from Goodfellas, despite her bad fate, has that sexy scene where he impresses her with seats at the front of the house, wines and dines her, gives her champagne in her car. It's sexy as hell.
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They're RADIANT, glamorous. They impressed the man with their amazing looks, their confidence, their swagger, personality, charisma, cockiness, and by also being a liiiittle unattainable.
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And being the right woman, at the right time.
Sharon Stone's character was a hustler before she met Ace. (And after, but still.) He didn't give a damn about her circumstances. He just knew he liked her, and, he wanted her. Did anything he could for her. And if she played her cards right, she could've lived a good life. Wealthy as hell, gorgeous and a perfectly secured lifestyle.
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Maddy was just a pretty girl, not from the most well off home, but they would never have known, and didn't care. Because she was so gorgeous and intriguing, who gave a fuck?
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Karen from Goodfellas was a sweet girl with a religious family. Guess what? Did that stop this absolute thot of a man with money from entering her life, showering her with affection and high end items, then beating the shit out of a man for her? Hell no. He still liked her.
Even the annoying blonde chick from Scarface was gorgeous enough to bag several wealthy men. (Except I'd love to avoid drug addiction, or marrying a narcissist that sees me as an item.... UNLESS I can leave happily, and get alimony from it.)
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Even the blonde woman from Wolf of Wall Street was glamorous. AND taken by another man. Didn't stop Jordan Belfort from flooding her house with roses, and trying to hold onto her.
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You could be anyone, and if you're what someone wants, you're what they want. Taken, single, virginal, "whore", rich, poor. If you're what they have their sights on, they will do anything they can to be with you.
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They made their men weak in the knees enough to do almost anything for them.
Give them gold, diamonds, beat other men. Even kill for them.
You don't even have to change yourself. If you're the right girl at the right time, you can have it. You're the Morticia to someone's Gomez, the Dita VonTeese to someone's Marilyn Manson, (but ideally don't date goth pedos,) the cosplaying weeb of some rich Twitch streamer's wildest dreams. The blonde marxist bombshell to someone with big goals and pockets. No reason you can't get what you want.
If you're disciplined, and beautiful in whichever way you feel, you can get it. Just keep at it, of course.
So, whenever I'm in a funk, the audios and monologues of women in these scenarios make me reinvigorated, and excited yet again.
Just up those sirens skills of course.
Peace out.
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redemptioninterlude · 2 years
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EUPHORIA HOMEWORK HOUR - 
from @notcruel - what were her thoughts when leaving laurie's? did she have an idea of what laurie wanted to do to her? is she at all worried about her own consequences at all or is she still just worried about dying?
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okayyyy... well that was a whole ass trip, and i mean you in particular saw me losing my mind as we all watched together but like, i’ll say this. i am afraid for rue. i am afraid, because this woman is a stone cold hustler, and she takes no qualms in drugging and selling a 17 year old girl. it wasn’t even about the threats laurie gave when she handed rue the suitcase, she’s been planning on fucking doing this the whole time. laurie can tell rue is an addict and knows all the hallmarks. the way that she told rue she had no pills but had them in the suitcase and purposefully gave rue her drugs via a needle tells me this is all premeditated on her part. and with that, that she’s trying to spiral her down a worse path of addiction so that she can get what she wants ; someone to work as a prostitute for her.
now like when waking up, rue probably felt a ton of panic. it’s a room she doesn’t know, a bed she doesn’t remember getting into, she has vague memories of all the fucked up shit that happened last night, and she genuinely, truly blacked out. that’s fucking petrifying, now add in all the weird shit she KNOWS happens at laurie’s ( like that dude coming out naked? now i feel that shit was on purpose to test her reactions ) and honestly wouldn’t be able to tell anyone if she was sexually assaulted or something like that that night. like rue wouldn’t be able to tell you shit, and i think that’s something she knows and terrifies her. 
would she know the full extent of what laurie’s planning? no. we’re lucky that most of us have the insight of being adults and knowing how to spot a predator’s behaviour, but rue’s fucking 17 and a drug addict and half the time can’t even trust herself. she’s thinking now that she isn’t dead, she’s going to owe this woman a ton of money and that she might end up super fucked. that’s why she goes home. rue doesn’t know what to do or where to go and she’s totally terrified. so the safest place to go is home to her mom, like, she’s not worried about dying ( let’s be real here, rue has talked multiple times now about not wanting to live so... ) but rather what she suspects will be worse ; being stuck owing laurie a ton of money and having no way forward, and no way back. she’s done this to herself and now she can’t even die the way she planned to with that suitcase of drugs to help make it easy for her, and she can’t go to fez for drugs because she seriously fucked up with him.
all around, she knows things aren’t looking good. but registering the depth of laurie’s plan isn’t really on her mind, she’s just terrified that laurie’s going to come for her mom, her sister, and fez, and we’ve all seen, rue doesn’t really consider herself fuckable ( blind ass bitch she is ) and because of it that whole vibe, whatever the fuck part of it doesn’t factor in. she’s on a whole ‘i fucked everything up oh my god what can i do’ panic zone right now, like she thinks she’s lost all her friends, her girlfriend, and her family, and that’s it, no thoughts, just brrrr, you know?
anyways, assignment complete!
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rykerelias · 3 years
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WISHLIST.
CRIMINAL INFORMANTS.
   Including but not limited to, strays and street kids that he has a habit of checking in on and making sure are as okay as they can be, buying them a hot meal, doing what he can to make sure they’ve got a line on a bed or clinic if they need it / if he knows they need it. General low lifes and small time hustlers that he doesn’t see as LEGIT scumbags that he can let slide / pay off / etc. for information now and then whether on the quiet or as official CI’s.
LOCAL AND/OR LAW ENFORCEMENT TYPES ET AL.  
   Fellow cops, homicide or otherwise, defense attorneys and prosecutors, lab techs, CSIs, blood splatter analysts, the mechanics that maintain the cop cars, medical examiners, local crime reporters, anybody and everybody that’s involved in the general day to day life of a homicide detective.  Passing acquaintances, ex lovers, ex partners - good or bad standing, internal affairs, court clerks, you name it.
   FBI, CIA, NSA, NCIS, WITSEC, CTAC, any other alphabet agency that might be working w/ his department or for some reason because of his undercover work or something w/ his military history and training need him / want his help with a particular case, or need information that he had / has access to, etc.
DRUG DEALERS / USERS, INCLUDING SPONSOR AND NA.
   Whether they were ones he knew when he was a hard core user, ones he knows through Narcotics Anonymous, those that are criminal informants, the ones he gives shit to and sometimes beats up for information / takes their stash and money (whether bc he needs a fix or just to flush / spread the wealth), there’s a lot of options here.  An ex-lover who’s still a user that he sometimes hooks up with / sometimes gets a fix from even when he shouldn’t maybe.  One relationship I’d love would be someone to write with that has a relationship of some kind with him on a semi-regular basis but is also his NA Sponsor and is who he turns to when he fucks up, needs help, or needs to stay clean.  This could be legit or could be someone holding info on him until they need to leverage him for something big time.
LAW ENFORCEMENT PARTNER(S) & BOSS.  
  Preferred time period for this is during the years as a homicide detective.  City is variable.  Canon is Bay City, Earth.  Looking for a partner or two during the 3+ years that he works in homicide; his career in the police has been slightly … colorful.  He was pulled out of the Academy towards the end of year one to work undercover, starting out in general narcotic related deals and stings, did one or two long-term (4-8 mos) stints inside larger crime syndicates.  He ended up becoming addicted to meth during the last year undercover; while it never made it to legal prosecution or official write-up status in his file, he was pulled from undercover and did a few months off the books getting cleaned up and getting his shit together (sort of) before finishing officially returning to work.  Bounced around narcotics and major crimes before a huge bust taking down a corrupt politician gave him the boost / leverage he needed to take his detectives exam and move up to homicide.  
   His reputation is still a little on the leery side; he has a penchant for resorting to scare tactics and violence with criminal informants and suspects when they are outside of police custody and tends to kinda waffle on the line of police brutality when it comes to getting the information he needs for a case, especially if it’s something that involves a potentially still alive victim, be it a missing person or kidnap victim etc. etc. Meaning, he’d need someone as a partner that could either rein him in and keep him from going too far over the dark side, or, someone who knows how to play it just safe and legal enough their own selves that it doesn’t bother them when he gets hands on.  It is VERY important to note, however, that even if Ryker does sometimes beat the shit out of a potential suspect or two bit gangster or drug dealer etc and take their money …. he ends up usually giving most of it to neighborhood people in need, homeless, sex workers in trouble, that kind of thing so – byTECHNICAL definition he isn’t corrupt and would NOT tolerate a corrupt or on the take partner.
   He is, however, stuck under a corrupt Lieutenant or Captain, which is one of his biggest pet peeves of the century.  In canon, Captain Tanaka is very much in the pocket of the Meths, the Elite Rich & Powerful of the city - feeds them information, misdirects inquests, loses paperwork and evidence here and there.  I’d love to have someone of a similar position to generally just throw Ryker off his game and keep him from really being able to go all in on a case now and then, some general high key / low key tension / constant source of pressure in the back of his head especially since w/ his outbursts and trouble with suspects there’s a potential for that being used against him / leveraged against him / forcing him to cover something up or get him dragged into the exact kind of corruption that he is looking to avoid and fight against / clean up within the department.  
   Any character that works for / with internal affairs or legal teams that might be trying to make a case against him, trying to find evidence to debunk an arrest or otherwise destroy a case that he’s worked on or is working on as well would be fun to play out!
ENEMIES.  
   This one is definitely one of the wider ranges of desired relationships and story arcs.  This could be someone from the days when he was on the streets, someone from the gang he used to be a part of, someone that he injured or killed / family member etc. of someone he killed during his military service, someone that he was responsible for putting in prison whether through his undercover years, his time in weapons and narcotics, homicide – could be a spouse / friend / relative / loved one etc. of someone he put away (wrongly or justly); could be someone he pressured, beat up or otherwise influenced for information on a case, could be a jilted lover or a friend / family member / spouse of a jilted lover.  Really wide range of options here.  In the series, Ryker had made a LOT of enemies in the underworld that were all far too happy to join in collectively to see him punished, beaten, killed, see his lover beaten and killed in front of him etc. – he’s made a LOT of enemies, guys.  I’d love to explore this, whether it be through subtle manipulation or outright physical attacks or long term subterfuge / revenge.  All of it’s good with me so come at me.
HIS FATHER.
   This could be one of two things; a pre-existing canon or original character that you write that would fit closely enough into the backstory of Elias’ history that we could merge them together OR it could be a temporary character that someone is willing to write for me / with me for a couple of threads / interactions.  If it’s the latter, I’d be happy to return the favor if you ever want something similar.  I do ask that if this is the option chosen that we have written together / plotted together / ensured some degree of writing chemistry and compatibility as this is a huge part of Elias’ back story AND extremely filled with emotional landmines for Elias (potentially his father as well) and there’s a varying degree of physical and emotional abuse that happened during Elias’ childhood and early teen years as well as a lot of neglect in general so – very mature / potentially delicate material etc.  Some of these details are negotiable but the general gist should remain intact:  Elias’ mother left when he was around three, four years old.  His father was a crook, could range from small time petty crimes to full on wet-work / cleanup guy for a local gang or mafia etc.  
   He hadn’t wanted kids, didn’t want anything to do with Elias and Elias was generally left to fend for himself, be taken in with other kids in the area - the handful of moms / grandmas in the area that tried to make sure everybody got fed and cleaned up and whatever.  Someone else registered him for school, he got hand me downs from other kids / families in the apartment building / neighborhood, kinda just straggled along and generally swept up with the crowd.  Attended school primarily for free breakfast and lunch, attended bare minimum to keep child services off his back, did jobs around the apartment building, neighborhood, etc. etc. to get pocket money for food and from time to time to pay rent etc.  Ran packages, learned to pickpocket, small time penny pinching from street vendors etc. etc.  His dad was arrested when Elias was thirteen - he didn’t even know for almost a month when child services finally showed up to put him in care.  
   Dad disappears into the system for 20+ years.  Elias does not keep in contact, cuts all ties.  Dad eventually gets out, decides now’s a good time to reunite with Elias and try and worm into his good graces for:  INSERT REASON HERE.   Now, sure, there’s a SLIM chance that the guy really wants to make amends but chances are more 99.9999% that he needs information that Elias has, needs contacts, needs money, needs a place to lay low, needs Elias’ protection, you name it and basically I’d just really love to explore that dynamic between Elias, who is TRYING to be a better person, trying to be a good cop, trying to do some good in the world, is LIKELY in a steady romantic relationship and trying to put his past behind him, now getting caught up in this ugly reminder of all of the horrible things he sees in himself, in the flesh and torn between wanting to keep his dad out of his life altogether and maybe still clinging to that little tiny sliver of hope that maybe there’s something better for him, maybe it’s worth the chance, maybe it’s worth that tiny tiny bit of him that always WANTED to be loved and wanted by his dad ….
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rossodelgiorno · 3 years
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2020/ Chain of Fools
2020 was the year I adopted a boiler suit and gas mask as a daily uniform. The world had gone into a global lockdown to combat the COVID19 virus which meant we were only allowed to leave our house for essential reasons such as grocery shopping and exercise. When outside, we were government mandated to wear face masks to prevent the spread of the disease. They made me feel like a muzzled dog and I resented no longer being able to smile with strangers on the street. Feeling like a prisoner in his own home and under extreme stress from job insecurity, my boyfriend Jake’s amphetamine addiction began to spiral out of control.
As a result of Jake’s addiction, we had accidentally befriended a posse of drug dealers and prostitutes- bonded by our love of having a good time and a general disregard for consequence. We met Dani through a call girl friend of mine who had realised the difficulty of making a living through writing online fashion content. Dani had big brown eyes, fat, botoxed lips and dressed only in high end labels like Gucci and Balmain. Born into a wealthy family, she had acquired a taste for expensive things but lacked the work ethic to maintain this taste without selling her body for sex. Dani began to visit more throughout the lockdown to deliver Jake drugs, hidden in a bag of a groceries. One night, she played Carole King on our old vinyl player, while Jake rolled us a joint to share. I flirted with them both, knowing that it would lead to a threesome. We smoked Jake’s joint, snorted lines of cocaine off each other and then took turns going down on each other.
A week later, Dani introduced us to a crew of “script kiddies”- long haired, internet hackers with a love of mumble rap, cryptocurrency and ketamine. I made cocktails for everyone and established that one of these kids shared a mutual friend with Jake. They seemed fascinated by the genuine sexual chemistry between myself, Jake and Dani and expressed gratitude for our generous hospitality. Eventually I came to the conclusion that by associating us with this crowd, Dani had managed to successfully pray on the vulnerable- trusting junkies like us who were lax with internet security and keen for a good time. In retrospect, I wish I had known that Dani was a hustler at heart- making money in any way she could without considering the impact of her choices. At the time however, I felt like we were fully living life in the moment- something I was certain would bring me happiness, meaning and didn’t question her motives for a moment.
Ella, Dani’s best friend, had a boyish pixie cut, high cheekbones and was tall and slim. She had gradually joined in on our shenanigans, along with Mark, a dealer with a steady supply of the best gear available north of the river. We all hung out together in our plant-filled, converted warehouse listening to electronic music and sharing stories about our favourite mind-altering substances. My stories were consistently focused on MDMA. As a notoriously private person, I’d discovered MDMA helped me open up and allowed me to dance, free of fear of judgement. It had also helped Jake open up about the sexual abuse he experienced as child, a fact I doubted would have ever come up without the influence of a truth serum and something which I was certain had driven him to substance abuse in the first place.
While we laughed, chatted and danced with Dani and Mark, Ella, who claimed to be a part time poet and part-time model, entered a viral script virus onto our wireless network by requesting our wifi password. Something we provided willingly, without second thought. This meant remote access to every digital device we owned and access to all stored personal information including scanned copies of our passports and birth certificates.
The issue with Mark, despite his criminal lifestyle, was that he was excellent company. Intelligent, engaging and a DJ in his spare time- we thrived off his love of hip hop and old-school funk. Similarly, he thrived off our property location in the Inner North- close to his regular customers and discrete enough from the prying eyes of authority. We welcomed him into our home with open arms, deprived of social contact through social distancing practices enforced by the pandemic. We held COVID19 illegal gatherings where we got high off Mark’s supply, enjoyed each other’s company while Ella hacked our electronic identities. When you’re lonely, it doesn’t really matter if others are using you and you’re using them. As long as everyone is filling a clearly defined role, the maladaptive social ecosystem continues to function.
It’s unclear exactly how many international drug smuggling routes were established using our stolen online identities before Jake clued on that something wasn’t right. He told me that he had been locked out of his email account, that the speed of his phone had slowed and that he could hear clicking noises during his phone calls. He was certain that his was a breach of online security and started to question the motives of our new friends. I wrote him off as crazy, blaming his excessive use of amphetamines and the psychological effect of social isolation. I was determined to keep my online identity public, obsessed by the idea of becoming the next millennial therapist and too blinded by Dani’s beauty to believe that she would want to harm us in any way.
Eventually Jake’s distress became too extreme to ignore and he shook me violently one night, yelling at me to believe what I had assumed was a paranoid conspiracy theory. A sinking feeling in my gut became apparent when he started to coherently piece together his concerns about his online security issues. I realized that my sense of reality had been clouded by my lust for Dani and by a dark depression that had developed through my work as an essential worker during a pandemic. Based on Jake’s erratic behaviour, I knew we had to get out of the warehouse immediately, but I had no idea where to go and was fearful of drawing attention to any law-breaking activity when police presence was so prominent.
We agreed to seek refuge with our friends Trish and Rick, former 90s British ravers who had channeled their drug-fuelled benders into successful and respectable careers. I called them panicked that night, shaking and rambling about what had happened. Without hesitancy, Trish told us to come over right away. Rick’s brother back in the UK had recently killed himself and they were struggling too. Trish and Rick lived in an affluent area in the inner East which meant we needed to blend in quickly through a disguise of expensive athleisure and an almost painful sense of normality. It appeared that our efforts at disguise were successful and it seemed to result in freedom from any unusual online activity on our devices. We bought new phones, changed our phone numbers, email addresses and disconnected from the outside world for an entire week. We spoke about going to the police, however we both agreed that this would place us at too much risk to the criminal world to be a viable option.
When your online identity is stolen, you quickly start to daydream what it would be like to steal someone else’s identity. For example, what exactly would you do with those proceeds of crime? Which tropical island would you escape to, what designer clothes would you wear, which car would you drive? I quickly became entranced and jealous at the thought of this fantasy life, but then spent time reflecting on my own morality and these feelings subsided. Instead, an intense anger developed at the thought of others taking advantage of Jake and his mental illness. High on a sense of ethical superiority and new found fury, I decided to employ my favourite psychological defense mechanism, repression, to cope with my latest traumas. May you rest in peace, memory, I said to myself before engaging in my daily mediation ritual.
While repressing my consciousness, I also began to focus on the importance of social support. I knew this shit was important but didn’t fully understand until Trish brushed my hair one night, my arms too frail from fear and stress to function. Trish and Rick played familiar Britpop, drank tea and encouraged us to embrace the therapeutic benefits of music through use of the guitar and keyboard that we had brought to their house. We took turns cooking for each other, played board games and counselled each other through each personal problems, one at a time.
Jake and I stayed with Trish and Rick for two weeks until we could establish an exit plan from the city. We migrated to rural Victoria like many other Melbournians, traumatized by the lockdown. The pace in the country was slow yet calming and people genuinely seemed to care about your welfare when they inquired “How you going, mate?” After such an extended period of social isolation, many of us forgot how to interact with others. We valued and craved human connection more than ever, and yet we seemed scared of what we might connect with. We continued to develop our own deformed version of sign language to communicate through the face masks and focused on re-developing social skills that had been lost through extended disconnection.
Jake and I continued to battle through the challenges of online identity theft and the consequences of his addiction issues. Jake’s substance use had subsided substantially without the influence of Mark and Dani and we eventually adjusted to living normal, routine driven lifestyles. He had cycled through periods of problematic use before, however I still felt somewhat shell shocked by the intensity of his most recent relapse. However, one day late in December I found myself wandering through the tranquility of the Otways, fully freed from the constraints of the lockdown which had finally lifted and contemplating my progress in life since leaving this place as a teenager. The rainforest sounds were vivid and the smells of the ocean salty in my nostrils. I wasn’t where I had planned to end the year 2020, but I was alive and I had Jake. And for that, I felt eternally grateful.
Rosso Del Giorno
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jacobports · 3 years
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Hotaru Futaba’s posthumous album: Futaba Crimelord Legacy was released after her death on May 11, 2021.
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Kasumi Futaba: This is Kasumi Futaba. We finally released Hotaru Futaba’s posthumous album: Futaba Cartel Legacy. It contains 73 songs. This album is dedicated to Hotaru Futaba, who was brutally murdered by Jacob Ports in San Diego on May 11, 2021. She is the main antagonist in Garou: Mark of the Wolves. She became a druglord in Korea and was arrested by authorities in Asian countries. Hotaru Futaba has several warrants for her arrests, including murder of millions of people with Coronavirus when she was an evil Coronavirus scientist during the pandemic. She was murdered several times by Jacob Ports and was resurrected since 2020. She also died from COVID-19 as well. She was also responsible for spreading Coronavirus in the entire country, except antarctica. She became a NWA rapper in Compton, Thug Life rapper in New York, Darkroom Familia in Northern California, Platinum Dope rapper and NCP rapper in Modesto and Stockton. Hotaru Futaba was also affiliated with most wanted criminals, terrorists, drug dealers, arms dealers, mafia, triads, mobs, gangsters, smugglers, traffickers, crime bosses, drug cartel and other criminal organizations. Thanks for your support.
Tracklist:
1. Last Man Standing
2. The Unexpected
3. Still Don't Know
4. It's Horassin'
5. Ill Shit
6. Fuck My Enemies
7. No Hesitation
8. Money Hungry Bitches
9. Live It Up
10. Firebreather
11. Another One
12. Serve the Feinds
13. The Fake and the Counterfeit
14. Cock-a-Holic
15. Still Here
16. 5 Vegas
17. Come Get It
18. Platinum Dope
19. Your Worst Nightmare
20. Not Your Average
21. You Don't Know By Young G , Twista J & Unknown
22. Bitches N Cats By Young Los , Young G & Unknown
23. Game Tight G'z By Young G & Unknown
24. Do It Like That By Young G , Twista J & Unknown
25. Explicit Shit
26. Heatin It Up
27. Lavish
28. Thug Money
29. Mobb Shit
30. No Losses
31. The Drunk Song
32. My Bucket
33. Got the Party Hoppin'
34. The Weed Song
35. Thugs Reign
36. Hustlers Make the World Spin
37. Cruel Intentions
38. Freestyle
39. In the Dark Part 2
40. What the Game Will Be
41. Norcal Factoz
42. Cali Livin
43. When Slugs Fly
44. Stack a Grip
45. We Spit Venom
46. Northern Cali Savage
47. Killaz
48. Light It Up
49. Hard Head
50. Motherf*ckin Fool
51. Ain't No B*tch Sh*t
52. I Hate to Choose 1
53. That's What's Up
54. What I Really Need
55. Addicted to the Hustle
56. My Blunt Keeps Burnin
57. Northern Cali Thang
58. Back to the Blocc
59. Still Here
60. Miss Me With That Bullsh*t
61. Brain Full of Game
62. Tha Goggles
63. Smash My Whip
64. Addicted
65. Pimp Shit
66. Takin' What's Mine
67. Gettin' Mine
68. Mobb
69. Put the West On
70. Intro
71. Inflow
72. All Nighter
73. Thugged Out
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rapuvdayear · 5 years
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2000: “Ghetto Qu’ran (Forgive Me)” 50 Cent (Trackmaster Ent./Columbia)
It’s been over a year since I teased the idea of doing a post about my favorite 50 Cent tracks, so I guess now is as good a time as ever to get around to it! 
With the exception of maybe Kanye, I can’t think of another rapper with more raw talent whose career has been more disappointing. Obviously both Ye and Fiddy have been monstrously successful, but IMO they either burned brightly before descending into white supremacy apologia (Kanye) or never achieved their best possible trajectory (50). It’s not an accident to put them together in this way, either; just 12 years ago next month they faced off in what turned out to be a very underwhelming battle over whose album would sell better (this was back when album sales, not streaming numbers, still meant something). In many ways, it was a crossroads for each artist: Kanye dropped what I believe was his magnum opus, then followed it up with his fourth-best album, third-best album, and second-best album, before dropping off a cliff, while 50′s release basically removed him from the conversation about who was relevant in rap (“My Gun Go Off” and “I Get Money” are honorable mentions for the list below, but otherwise Curtis is entirely forgettable). 
These days, 50 has gone the Ice Cube route and is probably more recognizable as an actor than as a rapper. So, it’s hard to remember that once upon a time he was the savior of gangsta rap and (co-)author of one of the 25 greatest albums of all time. He beat the odds to survive a shooting, link up with the two heaviest hitters (at the time) in the rap game, and even be included on some GOAT lists. He also essentially established the “flood the streets with mixtapes before your album drops” strategy of self-promotion that Gucci, Weezy, and even Drake would follow in the days before Soundcloud was the go-to resource for building a rep. He singlehandedly destroyed a rival’s career, launched a clothing line, video game, and music label, and made a halfway-decent biopic. And then... he just sort of petered out. 
But! 50 is also responsible for some of my all-time favorite raps, which is why it’s so frustrating to me that he never lived up to the buzz surrounding him back in 2003. These are my five favorites, listed chronologically, with some commentary:
1) “Ghetto Qu’ran (Forgive Me)” (2000) Before the G-Unit days and before Eminem and Dre helped launch him to superstardom, Curtis Jackson was an up and coming rapper from Queens who had attracted the attention of another rap legend, Run-DMC’s Jam Master Jay. A mutual friend introduced 19 year-old 50 to Jay back in 1996, and the veteran producer/DJ gave him a crash course in how to write songs and signed him to his fledgling label. The business relationship didn’t work out, but it helped lead 50 to Columbia Records’ Trackmasters imprint where he recorded Power of the Dollar in 1999. However, this debut album would never see the light of day after 50 was shot nine times while sitting in a friend’s car and subsequently dropped by Columbia. In the wake of the shooting--and then later, after 50 blew the fuck up in 2003--it became a sort of “lost cult classic” among rap fans. “How To Rob” got the most attention at the time, a funny-yet-vicious song demonstrating 50′s hunger through fantasies about sticking up famous rappers and R&B stars (the song was also clearly an homage to Biggie’s unreleased “Dreams,” and provoked an oblique diss from Ghostface). But “Ghetto Qu’ran” has had a more lasting impact, primarily because of how it was rumored to be the source of 50′s shooting, Jam Master Jay’s murder, and the Ja Rule/Murder Inc. beef. While all of that intrigue is important to rap lore, it distracts from the fact that it’s a near perfect rap song from a technical perspective: a catchy hook, a fantastic beat and sample, an effortless flow, and a well-crafted story that is equal parts celebration of the Queens underworld and subtle shots at street legends. Seriously, this is akin to what traveling bards used to do in medieval Europe, what poets in Ancient Greece wrote, what west African griots did/do, and what narcocorrido artists do now. If you want to learn about the Supreme Team, Pappy Mason, the Corley Family, and the Rich Porter/Alpo crew in Harlem, then this is a good place to start; as 50 puts it, “consider this the first chapter of the ghetto’s Qu’ran.” The secondary title to this track--“Forgive Me”--has a double meaning now. It was initially a plea to forgive 50 for the pain he caused in his criminal life but in retrospect an appeal to the figures whose names he drops. Also, it’s interesting to listen to this first and then compare 50′s voice with the next four tracks: this was recorded before the shooting, which left a bullet fragment lodged in his tongue that affected his speech and gave him his now-distinctive flow.    
2) “Heat” (2003) There are several standouts on Get Rich or Die Tryin’ (“Many Men,” “Back Down,” “What Up Gangsta,” “Patiently Waiting,” and “Poor Lil’ Rich” spring to mind, and I will always love “21 Questions” for the “I love you like a fat kid loves cake” line alone) but this one has always been my fave. It’s a perfect distillation of the image that 50 was trying to project when he burst onto the scene: a hood-hardened gangster who wouldn’t hesitate to do his enemies harm. And given his recent history, you could believe him, too! There’s really nothing about this song that should be praised in any way, but I’ve been thinking about the gravity of the following line a lot in the past month or so: “The summertime is a killing season/ It’s hot out this bitch, that’s a good enough reason.” Also, 50′s boast “the DA can play this motherfucking tape in court” *has* to be one of the inspirations behind this great Key & Peele sketch, right? 
3) “A Baltimore Love Thing” (2005) The Massacre was incredibly disappointing on the whole. I can remember clearly sitting around with my friends in a dorm room at the Shoreland listening to it all the way through the day that it dropped, wanting to love it but slowly realizing that it wasn’t going to live up to our expectations. “Ski Mask Way” could be an honorable mention on this list, and “Piggy Bank” is kind of funny, but otherwise it’s a steaming pile of shit. “Baltimore Love Thing,” though, is a masterpiece. It’s incredibly dark, rapped from the perspective of heroin itself (sort of like what Nas’s “I Gave You Power” does for guns) in order to detail the destruction that addiction--and, by extension, drug trafficking--leaves in its wake. Even more fucked up, 50-as-heroin voices an abusive partner addressing a woman, threatening her should she ever try to leave him. For my money, “You broke my heart, you dirty bitch, I won’t forget what you did/ If you give birth, I’ll already be in love with your kids” is one of the coldest lines in the annals of rap, full stop. In the second verse, he switches to the flip side of an abuser’s mindset: “I never steer you wrong, if you hyper I make you calm/ I’ll be your incentive, your reason for you to move forward.” All in all, it’s a great concept song that shows off 50′s range as a rapper... and is a testament to what he could have been.
4) “Hustler’s Ambition” (2005) Goddamn, I fucking love everything about this song! The beat is fantastic (great sample, btw), prefiguring the sound on a future great mixtape from the G-Unit crew. 50′s flow here is flawless, arguably the best, smoothest he’s ever been. This was basically the “theme” for 2005′s Get Rich or Die Tryin’ film, and tells the story of his come up in the drug game (or, at least, 50′s version of his carefully constructed hagiography). The lyrics are the true gems here, so I’ll just let a few of the standouts speak for themselves:
“Check my logic: fiends don’t like seeds in they weed, shit/ Send me them seeds, I’ll grow ‘em what they need”
“I sell anything, I’m a hustler, I know how to grind/ Step on grapes, put it in water, and tell you it’s wine”
“I made plans to make it, a prisoner of the state/ Now I can invite your ass out to my estate”
“Pour Cristal in the blender, make a protein shake”
and finally
“The feds watch me, icy, they can’t stop me/ Racists pointing at me, ‘Look at *****race’: Hello!”   
5) “Ghetto Like A Motherfucker” (2011) I remember first encountering this track on a Tumblr compilation (I think?) called Don’t Fuck This Up, Curtis! and allowing myself to get excited that the old 50 was back! As the compilation’s name implies, around that time 50 had been releasing a string of online-only singles that were better than anything he’d put out in five or so years, and so there was some hope that he’d soon be making a triumphant return to the rap game. Sadly, this was not to be. But I still bang this track every month or so. The idea here was that 50 had written something, set it to a very sparse, stripped-down beat, and posted it online as an invitation for DIY rap producers to play with it and layer their own compositions on top of it. In that sense, it represented a melange of rap’s earliest roots--dudes spitting over vinyl cuts in basements and parks, just fucking around and having fun--and the possibilities afforded by the digital age and rap’s embrace of online platforms for mixing and remixing material (on a side note, I like to think of this as part of 21st century rap’s “punk rock” aesthetic, and would argue that this genre has done it better than any other). As with “Hustler’s Ambition,” “Baltimore Love Thing,” and “Ghetto Qu’ran,” this track gives 50 a chance to really showcase his talents as a writer and a rapper. The lyrics are as grimy as the beat, painting a picture of urban poverty and pre-fame 50, and 50 switches up his flow at multiple points throughout. Here are some of my favorite lines:
“Slim chance I’ma go back to killing roaches/ Be quiet, you can hear the rats in the wall/ Make you wanna pump crack ‘til you stack racks”
“Dice game, shake ‘em up, praying’ for a 6/ The wolves out there hungry, they lookin’ for a lick”
“****** pissed on the staircase, in the elevator/ Now I’m pissed cuz I’m starting to smell like piss, player”
and
“All a ***** need is a block and a connect/ And a box of 9 MMs to load in the TEC.”
50′s last two studio albums--Before I Self Destruct and Animal Ambition--honestly weren’t half-bad; I would venture so far as to say that they were both better than The Massacre and Curtis. But for 50 it was too little, too late, really. Too many rappers had come along since then doing what he did, only better and fresher. This is a Migos world now; we’re just living in it. And so, I’m left to ponder what could have been. 
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breakfastsqueen · 5 years
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Have you ever noticed that ( LENNY BUSKER ) from the ( MARVEL UNIVERSE ) looks a lot like ( AUBREY PLAZA )? Having the ability of ( HUSTLING & BEING A REANIMATED CORPSE ) sure makes them a force to be reckoned with. They’re known to be ( OUTGOING ) but also ( SARDONIC ) and they’re ( THIRTY-TWO ) years old. 
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Guess who’s here with another crazy girl? That’s right, it’s me, Valky! I’m so, so excited to bring Lenny to the RP. Here’s some stuff about her.
TW: abuse, drugs, death, underage drinking, suicide
First things first, my version of Lenny is only canon up until episode 3x04 of Legion. Everything that happened after that episode is trash, and I don’t believe that my girl deserved any of what happened to her, so I won’t be sticking to that storyline.
Lenore ‘Lenny’ Busker was a patient at Clockworks Mental Hospital. During her childhood, she started drinking with her grandma at the age of 9. Her upbringing was a very unhappy one. Her parents divorced while she was young after her mother found out that her father was a piece of shit (I don’t wanna say what he did, it makes me wanna vomit). In high school, Lenny came to the realisation that she’s a lesbian. 
Sometime during high school, she ran away from home. In order to survive, she became a hustler, and as she got older, she dabbled in drugs and became an addict. To afford her addiction, she turned to prostitution. 
Lenny was arrested 13 times before being admitted to Clockworks. Nobody knows what all of her past crimes were, but I’d assume that they were petty robbery, and soliciting. She has an ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude, so the arrests could’ve been for anything, really. 
 After being admitted to Clockworks, she became friends with David Haller. They spent a lot of time together, and she shared her Twizzlers with him, so it was obviously platonic love at first sight. 
Unfortunately, Lenny died during season 1 of Legion. When David kissed his girlfriend, Sydney, he didn’t know about her powers. Or his own. When it happened, they switched places (Syd’s power) and because she couldn’t control David’s powers while inside his body, she caused a psychic blast. Lenny’s body was partially phased through a wall, which basically cut her in half, kinda?
Lenny's consciousness was absorbed by Amahl Farouk/The Shadow King, a mutant parasite that was residing within David's mind. He used Lenny as a way of concealing himself from David, and it was through Lenny that Farouk communicated with David.
She was used as a distraction or shield whenever Farouk needed her to get to David. The Shadow King used her to torture and mess with David and his friends. A lot of people suffered, including Lenny. Being repeatedly used and abused by Farouk was hell for her.
When Farouk finally revealed his true self to David, Lenny appeared and begged David to kill her, saying that the Shadow King was holding her consciousness hostage. She revealed that she had tried to kill herself several times but the Shadow King kept reconstructing her consciousness. 
A short while later, Farouk hunted down his physical body to resurrect it. He wanted to test that the method of resurrection would be safe for him, so he killed Amy Haller (David’s sister) and transferred Lenny’s consciousness into her body. After he’d done that, he left Lenny to be found in the desert. 
Lenny was kept inside a cell after being found by Division 3, begging to talk to David, but getting nowhere. Nobody trusted her after what had happened with Farouk. Eventually, she escaped.
These days, she lives with David and his hippy cult. She is his righthand woman, and she adores him, even if she wants to literally kill him sometimes. Her girlfriend, Salmon, is pregnant with their child. Lenny wants to be a better person for her family, and is off the drugs, finally ready to break away from the cult. She’s had enough of that life, but we’ll see where I go with that.
Okay, bbs, I tried to keep this as short as possible, but I couldn’t. Lenny has been through some bad stuff, as you can see. If you wanna plot, hmu through IMs or on discord. <3
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starlingsrps · 5 years
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tabitha malone char. dev.
BASIC INFORMATION
FULL NAME: tabitha rose malone
REASONING: she's never asked because she knows she's  going to be told tabitha from bewitched.
NICKNAME(S): nope.
PREFERRED NAME(S): tabitha
BIRTH DATE: september 1, 1986
AGE: thirty three
ZODIAC: virgo
GENDER: female
PRONOUNS: she/her
ROMANTIC/SEXUAL ORIENTATION:  bisexual
NATIONALITY: american
ETHNICITY: caucasian
CURRENT LOCATION: los angeles, ca
LIVING CONDITIONS: https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/3143-Waverly-Dr-Los-Angeles-CA-90027/20749242_zpid/ but with like, a pool
TITLE(S): doctor
BACKGROUND
BIRTH PLACE: petaluma, ca
HOMETOWN: same
SOCIAL CLASS: upper middle
EDUCATION LEVEL: all the degrees and certifications. all of them.
FATHER: bobby malone, 71, retired real estate agent
MOTHER: laura malone, 67, yoga instructor
SIBLING(S): robert, 36
BIRTH ORDER: youngest
CHILDREN: noooooooo
PET(S): a munchkin cat named elizabeth who is fueled by vengeance
OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: robert's wife and kids; none that she keeps in too close of contact with tbh
PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: she likes to keep busy
CURRENT RELATIONSHIP: her work
ARRESTS?: —
PRISON TIME?: —
OCCUPATION & INCOME
PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: cosmetic dentist
CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: she has her days where she hates it but then her check deposits and she likes it again. look: it may be cosmetic dentristry but she's still sticking her hands in someone's mouth for a living.
PAST JOB(S): nothing not related to her current position.
SPENDING HABITS: victorian dandy
MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: her house
SKILLS & ABILITIES
PHYSICAL STRENGTH: aight
OFFENSE: she'd rather stop you dead in your tracks with a cold stare
DEFENSE: REMYYYYY
SPEED: fast enough
INTELLIGENCE: high. she'll tell you.
ACCURACY: p good - she's dexterous for the job
AGILITY: average
STAMINA: endless
TEAMWORK: bossy
TALENTS: tabitha is damn good at her job and is an excellent cat mom
SHORTCOMINGS: STOP SMOKING TABITHA
LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english, enough dental spanish to ask if someone's been flossing
DRIVE?: yes
JUMP-STAR A CAR?: yes
CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: yes
RIDE A BICYCLE?: probably
SWIM?: yes.
PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: nope
PLAY CHESS?: yes and a hustler at it
BRAID HAIR?: yes.
TIE A TIE?: sure.
PICK A LOCK?: no.
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS
FACE CLAIM: sophie rundle
EYE COLOR: green
HAIR COLOR: light brown
HAIR TYPE/STYLE: medium lenght, wavy
GLASSES/CONTACTS?: switches back and forth.
DOMINANT HAND: right
HEIGHT: 5'7
BUILD: willowy
EXERCISE HABITS: pilates thrice a week and no more. she detests it.
SKIN TONE: fair
TATTOOS: nah
PIERCINGS: ears
MARKS/SCARS: various freckles and moles
USUAL EXPRESSION: poker
CLOTHING STYLE: black ankle pants, crisp shit, heels for work. leggings and a t-shirt after work. she's not about to be uncomfortable off the clock
JEWELRY: no rings or bracelets but she's a big believer in a pair of personality earrings
ALLERGIES: nah
DIET: reasonable
PHYSICAL AILMENTS: —
PSYCHOLOGY
ENNEAGRAM TYPE: 5 - the investigator
MORAL ALIGNMENT: true neutral
TEMPERAMENT: melancholic
MBTI: INTJ
MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: nah.
SOCIABILITY: introvert
EMOTIONAL STABILITY: feisty
PHOBIA(S): someone biting her while she's working on their teeth
ADDICTION(S): smoking
DRUG USE: she'll smoke pot now and then but she won't buy it
ALCOHOL USE: whatever's handy
PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: nah
MANNERISMS
SPEECH STYLE: dry, little valley vocal fry
ACCENT: see above. she'll tell you she's been in los angeles too long
HOBBIES: travelling. netflix
HABITS: drinking by her pool with remy
NERVOUS TICKS: tucking her hair behind her ears
DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: frankly, money. she likes having it.
FEARS: honestly, it's pretty much just being bitten.
POSITIVE TRAITS: honest, direct, strong willed, clever
NEGATIVE TRAITS: self indulgent, insensitive, judgmental, sarcastic
SENSE OF HUMOR: sarcastic a f
DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: when off duty
CATCHPHRASE(S): it's just an eye roll and heavy sigh
FAVORITES
ACTIVITY: she's by the pool, she's listening to music, there's a drink nearby, no one's bothering her.
ANIMAL: cats
BEVERAGE: tequila
BOOK: rebecca
COLOR: blue
DESIGNER: everlane
FOOD: pasta, she guesses.
FLOWER: white roses
GEM: pearl
HOLIDAY: summer vacation
MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: driving
MOVIE: the conjuring
MUSICAL ARTIST: tom petty
SONG: "won't back down"
SCENERY: waterside
SCENT: citrus and linen
SPORT: ehh no
SPORTS TEAM: see above
TELEVISION SHOW: mindhunter
WEATHER: summer
VACATION DESTINATION: mexico
ATTITUDES
GREATEST DREAM: this is aight
GREATEST FEAR: failure. and biting.
MOST AT EASE WHEN: with remy
LEAST AT EASE WHEN: things are off routien
WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: nope. not thinking about it.
BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: buying her house
BIGGEST REGRET: nah
BIGGEST SECRET: nah
TOP PRIORITIES: ehhhhh
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THE GAME
It was the year of seventeen when we all started meetin, some began with a greetin, some just a shared room for seatin, others met thru a rivalry beatin but it all ended with everyone fleeting.
A place to forget, but the place we met, memories we will remember, every month from January till December, most stories you wouldn't go tell, except for me koz this is my story of the naenae hotel.
It all started with Steven and Sam, and a sesh spot for relak to show off his gram. Steven was out to rep and impress... while Sam had a licence to drive round relak and his ves.
After that It went from puffs nd deals, to a regular catchup and even sharing the same wheels.
Can you guess what comes next... that's right! we get taken to the naenae complex.
Thru doors and halls we plot and ploy till we get out the back and enter a room accomodated by a man named roy.
Friendly and caring was this man Roy, he saved us later that night and still filled with joy while having to change our flat tyre.... that's when we knew Roy was our boy!!
Everyday at the naenae was something new, wether people or antics there was so many to meet and so much to do.
The next houseguest to greet was a lady named fee who was off to steal som meat, I met her while she was riding in my passenger seat when relak used the car for missions causing it unwanted heat.
Upper hutt to naenae was a daily route, back nd fourth then back again wed shoot,
Up next for the naenae flatmate to be was a young man named Nate who had somthing going on with fee. He always had a box of bevys he'd share excited bout the pool game he lined up for after his beer.
Were Nothing but introduced strangers at mo.... little did we know the situations ahead which made us who we are and who we know
Next up we have the sweetest bitch by far this girl goes by the name of .. yep u guessed it... by the name of Shar! Previous drama with us before where we are now, we had not met but yet didnt like each other somehow, conflict turned to laughs which we did allow and a friendship was made let's now take a bow.
Not even half of the cast has been mentioned yet, take a seat could be a while so many more i have still not met. Get set to read som shit you may want to forget.
Explaining the hotel is near Impossible we know, but for an example try picture a drama, crime, otg type show with a little bit of gang, and a little bit of hoe, including all different ages and drug dealers who come and go, competition between friends who turn into foe, daily gambling, smoking,drinking and spending all money flow this is the naenae as we lived this is the naenae as we know.
The naenae antics went larger than the address. More people daily involved who didnt always reside with the rest. Keep in mind this is my story of the naenae hotel none the less.
Were at the part where I've made myself at home, chilling in Sam and Nate's dorm I roam, ive just started a secondary job, the 24 7 one, the game, the all night rob.
City care comes last...koz let's have fun sis!! I'm smoking I'm rolling im living in bliss, how short the high lasts.. from that level then to this!
Living in the moment reality wasn't missed.
Through Steven again I also met chance he liked gambling and slanging he was on the same level he was on the same dance.
With chance there was another to come, his bro tairei, his flatty when was locked in the slum. He was quiet I didnt know if he was shy, to cool or dumb. Then he gave himself a great first look,.. when left alone in my room he stole my phone and tried to sell on Facebook
At this stage Steven now lives with me, while on curfew and addicted to p, still to trusting dont u agree even after opening the door to a thief named tairei, still I forgive its only the positives I can see, I'm high, I'm happy, I'm living, I think I'm free.
The first impressions doesn't sum who they all are but obliviously blind by the game by the sesh by this life, and by the money jar. this is nothing compared to what's still coming near nd far, I did not realise there is no Hollywood ending I did not realise I was apart of my story yet I was not the star. I did not realise Having the money the drugs the friends and the car wasnt forever, wouldnt last, and wouldn't get me far.
Explaining the hotel is near Impossible we know, but for an example try picture a drama, crime, otg type show with a little bit of gang, and a little bit of hoe, including all different ages and drug dealers who come and go, competition between friends who turn into foe, daily gambling, smoking,drinking and spending all money flow this is the naenae as we lived this is the naenae as we know.
Suppliers turned to friends, it got hard watching them break and watching their cycle end. Like dominos they fell, One after the other, by either a setup, their lover, the famous drone or maybe an undercover, most of the time its a nark or could even be a jealous brother.
Most end with an epic fail, some have to move, some end up in hospital or jail. Is this life worth it all for the sale, for the puff, for the rep for the ego of a Male.
It dont stop there were not through theres more to come like this next Crew. They're trouble, they're ruckus but they nothing new, they've always been around do u want a clue..
Amongst them we have eearners, fighters, hustlers, and even a jew. Do you want some names try guess who is who, the names are scrambled they're not in order for you.
It's from Linc to sharn then Shane and mikey to
So many faces come and go, one day a stranger then next they your bro, more connections made along the way, huks, slim, mr Adam's and even Jordan got his day.
Then theres the other connections who can help u to play, some more gangster than others some more fake than clay. I've worked for mates gangs and strangers aswell, I didnt know the game was a well disguised hell, I've been rolled I've Ben set up I've been told I've been beat up then left in the cold and threatened if I get up this is the norm this is the game even if your fed up you keep going you keep holding yours head up.
Everyones owed and everyone owes, grams, sevens or a round one may be your load, but keep it close, Expect the worse koz thats how the game goes.
This story is based around one type of chase, this story is told from one person's case, this story began at the naenae hotel place, this story is real but that life is a waste.
Explaining the hotel is near Impossible we know, but for an example try picture a drama, crime, otg type show with a little bit of gang, and a little bit of hoe, including all different ages and drug dealers who come and go, competition between friends who turn into foe, daily gambling, smoking,drinking and spending all money flow this is the naenae as we lived this is the naenae as we know.
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jessiesdrew-archive · 7 years
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so i was thinkin... reversed Jaspenor AU? :D Ft. HRH Jasper Henstridge, the middle of three sons. Charming & cunning & devious like eldest brother Robert, a notorious playboy like youngest brother Liam. Likes to test the limits of diplomatic immunity & his parents' patience by getting involved with all sorts of shady af business (that face gets him into and out of so much trouble, y'know?). He meets hustler/seductress/escort/bad-girl Leni when he and Liam sneak off to Vegas (...)
Jasper's too smart to fall for Leni's con, but he's so fascinated by her (and she by him) that he plays along and even brings her back to London with him just to piss the Queen off. He starts to really get in deep with Leni, especially after he tells her he knew what she was after all along - they're both so screwed up and damaged, but both really good at playing "the game" (tricks/lies/sex/drugs/rock&roll) that it feels like he's finally met his match and it's addictive
Then the death of the King & the news of his & Liam's illegitimacy sends Jasper further down his reckless/destructive spiral that started with Rob's death, & Leni is terrified by how much she wants to pull Jasper out of it & away from the increasingly risky behaviour he gets into. Long story short, Leni helps Jasper get his shit together, makes him want to be a decent guy at least, maybe also betters herself in the process, and finally tells Jasper her real name is 'Eleanor' XD
so i really love this. but i’m also really addicted to the whole trope of drunkenly getting married in vegas, so i would just add that they get so so drunk when they first met that they end up in a chapel with a drunken liam and one of leni’s friends as their witnesses. and get married.
and suddenly leni has a royalish title too and there’s not too much the queen can do about her (which only pisses off the queen more). and slowly they fall in love and leni tries to save jasper from himself.
help, i’ve fallen in love with this.
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skiinggray5-blog · 5 years
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‘The joke is always on us’: how People Just Do Nothing struck comedy gold
In a dimly lit room backstage at an underground club in east London, four men in their 30s share their masturbation secrets with me. Seapa finds it difficult at the moment: it hurts. Seapa also says (Seapa does most of the talking) that Steve does it with his legs behind his head, and that he spits on his... Well, I won’t say, in case you’re having your breakfast.
Anyway, he’s joking, he says. “We all wank perfectly normally.”
“Very healthy masturbation,” Asim confirms.
Until Seapa remembers Hugo. “Hundred per cent a fact: Hugo has to do it on his knees.”
They are proper friends from way back, with no secrets and no no-go areas
Rather than deny it, Hugo corrects him. “Not even on my knees,” he says. “Squatting on all fours.” He has an explanation, too, one that harks back to his teens and verges on the Freudian. “I think it’s when I had a family computer downstairs at this level,” he says, indicating its height. “Literally, the laptop’s there and my chin’s there…” I’m not totally picturing it, and not trying too hard, to be honest; the four of them crack up.
Apologies for sharing, but this is symptomatic of the entire 90 minutes I spend with Seapa, Steve, Asim and Hugo. These men know each other very well, are proper friends from way back, with no secrets, no no-go areas, and who cares if there’s a geezer from the Guardian here as well (“You’re a journalist, you’re not a human,” Seapa tells me). They relentlessly take the piss, out of each other, out of me; they’re boysy, rude, open, very funny – individually, collectively, all ways.
It has to be said that the line between fact and fiction isn’t always clear. I’d guess the story about Hugo is true, about Steve not (I hope). I’m not even sure how we got on to masturbation. Oh, yes, they were talking about “blazing” (smoking weed, something else they do a lot of, although there’s some talk of having stopped) and how it affects the senses, vision and touch, and it progressed naturally from there, do you see?
As well as being blazers and wankers, they – real names Allan “Seapa” Mustafa, Steve Stamp, Asim Chaudhry and Hugo Chegwin – are the creators, writers (principally Steve and Seapa) and stars of the award-winning BBC comedy People Just Do Nothing.
Big up PJDN
Confession: I’m a fan, big time. If you know the show, you surely will be, too – and if you don’t, you should get involved. A mockumentary sitcom centred on Kurupt FM, a pirate radio station broadcasting UK garage to not very many people at all in west London, it won a Bafta last year (beating Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s Fleabag), which Seapa doesn’t let you forget.
People Just Do Nothing is not a million miles from The Office – in actual mileage (it’s about 10 from Brentford to Staines), as well as in format and vibe. They’re massive fans of Ricky Gervais’ show: Seapa’s character, MC Grindah, is a kind of tower-block David Brent, while The Office producer Ash Atalla has become their executive producer. (As well as Gervais, they mention Alan Partridge, Brass Eye, Peep Show, Spinal Tap, Summer Heights High and documentaries such as the BBC Three series Tower Block Dreams.)
But PJDN is much more than The Office at 130bpm. It’s a heartfelt homage to a very different world – beautifully observed, authentic down to the music samples and trainer brands, because it’s a world its makers know inside out, having grown up in it. It’s more than a television show, too; as Kurupt FM, they have toured clubs and venues, played Glastonbury and taken over Radio 1Xtra.
You don’t need to know your UK garage from your drum’n’bass, or be a pirate radio aficionado, to appreciate People Just Do Nothing. Because, more than anything, it’s about people – not doing nothing, so much as doing the wrong thing.
4x4 - The Kurupt playlist
Styling: Tanja Martin. Grooming: Kristopher Smith at Terri Manduca. Shot at hangarlondonfields.com. Photograph: David Titlow for the Guardian
I realise this could be getting a little muddly: four different characters, being played by four different people. Usually, for interviews, as with their live shows, Kurupt FM remain in character. Today, they’re letting the masks slip, but it’s a blurry line between the real and the invented. So, for reference, your cast:
MC Grindah, convinced he’s the greatest MC on the planet, unwisely unwilling to let go of the dream, unrelated to the dating app; played by Allan “Seapa” Mustafa, 33, who also writes.
It’s tricky, because pirate radio is such a boys’ club. We’ve worked hard to get more of the female perspective in there
DJ Beats, Grindah’s lieutenant, loyal and loving, in spite of Grindah’s bullying (he is like a badly treated labrador); played by Hugo Chegwin, 33. Hugo, incidentally, is a nephew of Keith “Cheggers” Chegwin. Doesn’t play pop, though.
Chabuddy G, their sort-of manager, a wheeler-dealer Arthur Daley kind of fella and hopeless entrepreneur; played by Asim Chaudhry, 31.
Steves, basically on drugs, a “wiggy mess”. If they were the Happy Mondays, he’d be Bez; played by Steve Stamp, 33, who also writes.
***
Even if you’ve never tuned into a pirate radio station, let alone been to one, you will know one or more of a Grindah, a Steves, a Beats and a Chabuddy G. Know and likely also love, because, despite their absurd foolishness, there is lots to root for, too.
It’s also about jokes – ongoing jokes, such as Angel, Grindah’s daughter with his girlfriend (later wife) Miche, who clearly isn’t – biologically speaking – Grindah’s daughter, on account of the colour of her skin (she’s mixed race; Miche and Grindah are white). Then there are the smaller, more ephemeral jokes, such as Grindah’s definition of salvation: “McDonald’s on the horizon when you need a shit.” Or Chabuddy G’s devotion to Sean Paul Gaultier fragrance. Or Chabuddy’s explanation of what hormones are: “Little balls of anger that live inside women.”
Lily Brazier as Miche. Photograph: BBC
Yes, PJDN is undeniably blokey. “It’s tricky, because pirate radio is such a boys’ club,” says Steve, possibly the most thoughtful of the four, and definitely the tallest. “I think we’ve worked hard to try and get more of the female perspective in there.” This comes mainly via Miche (the brilliant Lily Brazier, who grows into the role and demands a place at the cast’s top table).
“One thing I would say, though, is the joke is always on the men,” Seapa says. “Grindah’s pretending to be this bravado guy, but he always gets bit on the arse and looks like a dickhead in the end.”
The show’s pilot and the first four episodes were only loosely threaded together. But from the second series, story arcs began to form, narrative rainbows over the concrete Brentford skyline – themes, issues, even. Not just male hopelessness, but loss and grief, addiction, bankruptcy and homelessness, abusive relationships. Prepare yourselves – in the fifth and final series – for gentrification. And, sadly, for everyone having to grow up. First, though, back to the beginning...
Midpoint reload
If you’re up to speed, you’ll know this means going back to the beginning halfway through – just as Grindah does in the middle of Grindah and Beats’s track, Heart Monitor Riddim (Lyrical Blow To The Jaw). “So me and Steve used to run a dogging company, out of a car park in Guildford,” Seapa says in the dingy backstage room (the club was the location for today’s cover shoot; this room, though horrid, seems entirely appropriate).
“We were on a forum, because we all caught the same disease,” Hugo adds.
Neither is true (I don’t think). But they all agree that Hugo was central to the beginning of what became a beautiful thing. “Hugo’s the clitoris,” Seapa says, taking it back down there. That’s Seapa’s role, as well as doing most of the talking, and the reminding about their Bafta.
Hugo – more of an introvert, less readable, equally comfortable with filth – goes with it: “And these guys are my orgasm.” Loads of laughing at that.
Here’s the actual truth (I think). Hugo grew up next door to Steve in Brentford, on the other side of the M4 motorway from the towers of the Haverfield Estate, as featured in the show. Hugo met Asim (from Hounslow) and Seapa (from Chessington) at Thames Valley College through a shared passion for smoking weed and creating music. Hugo would make hip-hop beats in his room; Asim rapped and made videos. Seapa ran a tinpot pirate radio station, and hung around squat parties and raves.
Photograph: David Titlow for the Guardian
When Seapa and Hugo dropped out of college, they used their student loans to visit Steve in Thailand; he was travelling having finished uni (English literature at Sussex). They went to beach parties, where Steve, who wasn’t really taking serious drugs, would pretend to be on pills just for a laugh. (This was the birth of his character Steves.)
Back in London, they continued to hang out, smoking more weed, messing around with Xbox Live and early camera phones, creating more characters. They used to make prank calls, too, which is where Asim’s character, Chabuddy G, began, partly inspired by his father, a bit of a hustler who once ran a business from a portable office.
Takeover of The Charlie Sloth Show.
I wonder if Asim – warm and instantly likable – has ever been accused of stereotyping, playing a comedy south Asian businessman with a finger in a lot of pies? “I’ve had a bit,” he says. “But you have to look at the detail behind it, the layers of research that go into it, and the real-life connection you have to it.”
Chabuddy G could be any race or culture, he says; it’s his self-delusion that makes him funny. This is nothing like, for example, Hank Azaria, a white guy, doing Apu on the Simpsons. “No one talks like Apu in real life, no one says [he puts on an Apu voice], ‘Thank you, come again.’ A lot of people speak like Chabuddy, a lot of people dress like Chabuddy, a lot of people are Chabuddy.”
Anyway, Asim, who had been camera operator (because he had a camera), was now in it, as Chabuddy G, even if he wasn’t clear what it was.
People just do something
What would become People Just Do Nothing was born, chiefly, out of experience, hence the pinpoint authenticity. But the irony of authenticity is that a lot of work went into it.
They created their characters, and improvised material that they posted on Asim’s YouTube channel. Some of the people they knew wondered why the hell they were doing it, investing all this time and energy into posting YouTube clips (this was before everyone starting spending all their time posting YouTube clips).
“We were about 24, and everyone else was working, and we hadn’t really achieved anything,” Seapa says. “We didn’t start out like, ‘This is going to be on telly and earn money’, we just did it. We were in shit, dead-end jobs, but we always made sure we were doing something creative.”
At one point, three of them were working in the same call centre. Hugo also worked at a will-writing firm, in accounts (if he were in The Office, he’d be Tim).
The wedding of Grindah and Miche. Photograph: BBC
“All I had on my CV were admin jobs that I wasn’t proud of,” Steve says. “If I wanted to get something I enjoyed, I would have to create my own work and show that I can do stuff outside the admin world. There always needed to be projects – writing.”
Steve always wanted to write. “I didn’t know if it was going to be scripts or...”
“Romantic novels,” Seapa butts in.
“Romantic novels,” Steve agrees, going along with it, a little resignedly at first, then raising him. “Erotic novels.”
“At one point, you were into Ukrainian erotic novels, weren’t you?” Seapa asks, not just seeing him, but raising him further. And they’re all off again: they were all into Ukrainian erotic novels and read them aloud together, sitting back to back, topless, but no one wanted to do it with Asim, because of his back hair. Make up your own mind about the veracity of that one.
Urban powerhouse/radio station/family
The YouTube episodes were not an overnight viral sensation; the viewers trickled in over a couple of years. But the producer Jon Petrie, who worked with Atalla at the independent production company Rough Cut TV, saw them and got the boys in for a meeting in early 2011.
“They basically said, ‘Are you happy for us to approach channels on your behalf and try to get you a pilot?’” Steve says.
They were keen to – and did – retain creative control, hanging on to the baby that had been conceived over a big chunk of their lives, in their bedrooms, blazing, back to back (maybe). But they also got some help with things like how to write a script, which they hadn’t done before: the YouTube webisodes were all improvised.
Today, there is still room for improv to sneak in: they reckon it’s about 70-30 script to improv in the final cut. “We’ve been in these characters since 2010, so we’re very comfortable with them,” Asim says. “We know how they’re going to react, what they’re going to say.”
After the pilot went out on BBC Three in 2011, a series was commissioned, followed by a second, then a further two. The Bafta came after a poignant third series that ends – on Valentine’s Day – with a birth and a death.
With Craig David. Photograph: BBC
There’s irony in their success, too, because, while in many ways their lives mirror those of their characters, they have also left them way behind. A big part of the ongoing joke is that, while Kurupt FM claims to be the biggest and baddest pirate station in the land, even the more conservative claim of “over 100 listeners” is hopelessly optimistic – it’s probably time to think about throwing in the mic. Whereas for Seapa, Steve, Asim and Hugo, things are kicking off big time. It’s not just the series, the live show and the real radio station takeovers (where they hold their own alongside Stormzy and Craig David); there is the hilarious sketch they did with very game “urban artist” Ed Sheeran on Comic Relief last year (they attempt to make him “less shit”); Chabuddy G has a comedy advice book out, How To Be A Man; and if you’ve taken a British Airways flight recently, you will have seen him as the lead in the (actually funny) safety video. After this final series, there’s going to be a film, which they’re working on (they’ve been talking to the Inbetweeners people, who successfully translated their sitcom to the big screen).
You don’t have to go to the Edinburgh festival, or be in a drama club, if you’ve got a camera and funny friends
About all of which, they’re dead proud – not so much about where they’ve got to, more where they started from. “Where I’m from, no one I know has come into this industry,” Seapa says. “I didn’t even know it was an option.”
“You don’t have to come through the conventional route,” Asim adds. “You don’t have to go to the Edinburgh festival, you don’t need to be in a drama club, you don’t need to do this – you’ve got a camera, you’ve got funny friends.”
“For the younger generation who’ve grown up with YouTube and stuff, maybe we can be a small inspiration,” Hugo starts to say, before being interrupted by Seapa: “Hugo Chegwin, motivational speaker!”
More than anything else, People Just Do Nothing is – at risk of sounding cheesy – a massive shout-out to friendship. “You can be talented, you can be creative, but if you’re not in the right circles…” Seapa begins, and by the right circles he’s not talking about media contacts or LinkedIn connections. “These are my best friends. We were all cruxes [sic; he means crutches] for each other, spurred each other on – that’s why we got through.”
People Just Do Nothing in collaboration with Ed Sheeran for Comic Relief.
Speaking of sic, they don’t say sick (with a k, for Kurupt FM), as in good, as much as they do on the show. Or trust me. Or bruv. But they do finish each other’s sentences, as only people who are close do. Mostly Seapa finishes them.
What is clear – while we talk, but also watching them arse about in the photoshoot – is they enjoy hanging out together, and it’s from this, and trying to make each other laugh, that the comedy comes. “These are my funniest friends,” Steve says. “The more I work with other actors, I realise that, even though we’re not actors, what we do in front of camera is impressive.”
Asim agrees, and says that for him it’s mainly about trying to make Steve crack up. Hugo talks of the journey, the experiences, the bond they’ve formed – something that a lot of music acts don’t have.
Are they the Beatles of Brentford? “I don’t know,” Seapa says. “Have they got a Bafta?”
Our time is up and Seapa has the last word, unsurprisingly. Nor is the direction he takes it in surprising. “Nice little chat,” he says. “Hope that was good for you.” And he laughs, they all do. “It’s like we just had sex.”
• The fifth and final series of People Just Do Nothing starts on BBC Two next month. Kurupt FM tour the UK from 9 November 9.
Opening shot: Asim wears jacket, Balenciaga at Harrods. Tracksuit bottoms, Stone Island at Browns. Steve wears sweatshirt, Palace. Allan wears vintage jacket, Stone Island. Tracksuit bottoms, Stone Island at Browns. Hugo wears Camo polar jacket, Stussy at Mr Porter. Cap, Lacoste. Tracksuit bottoms, Stone Island at Harvey Nichols.
Commenting on this piece? If you would like your comment to be considered for inclusion on Weekend magazine’s letters page in print, please email [email protected], including your name and address (not for publication).
Source: https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2018/oct/27/the-joke-is-always-on-us-how-people-just-do-nothing-struck-comedy-gold
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The Crackhead
The Crackhead As the blood slowly dried up the side of his mouth, I thought he was dead. He’d been lying still for the past thirty minutes and no one had even bothered trying to help him up.. If he was dead, an ambulance would come to take him and if he was alive, then he was no longer their problem. I’d just witnessed the worst beat down I’d ever seen in my life and I just kept wondering…..is he dead? It was the middle of the afternoon during the fall of ’87. Me and some of the other neighborhood kids were playing basketball in Vegas playground inside of our project. Vegas wasn’t the formal name for the playground, however, this became its adopted name because it was the main place for gambling in the projects and in the immediate area. Within the projects, many people sold drugs but one of the unofficial rules was no one sold in the main playground areas where most of the neighborhood kids would play. Maybe it wasn’t an official “rule” but more like a guideline. In fact, with it being the 80’s and shootouts being common, Vegas saw its fair share of action. What was also becoming more common was crack. The crack cocaine epidemic hit the inner cities fast and hard. It initially started out as a party drug but its cheap price and highly addictive nature turned out to be far more potent than most people bargained for. I can vividly remember neighbors who were “normal” one day and then seemingly overnight become a crackhead. It was similar to watching a zombie flick in how, once they got bit, they were gone. Additionally, these weren’t just anonymous people who appeared from out of the blue. These were mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, uncles and aunts. For me, some were those I considered to be my old heads and close neighbors. As a kid, you didn’t really see the actual transition. One day they were regular and the next thing you knew they were stoned out of their mind asking a nine year old kid could they “borrow” his Excite Bike Nintendo game. Equally disturbing was the violence which surrounded the crack game. Seeing gunfights and knowing individuals who were shot, paralyzed and even killed, became a common thing. But at the same time, it didn’t really seem strange. If you witnessed these scenes regularly it appeared rather ordinary. Some people would say it resembled the movies, but I don’t agree. A movie has a start, a middle and an ending. Then the credits roll. In the movies there’s a script and an angle. In real life, stuff just happened no slow motion movements, no camera shot of a menacing character pulling their gun and no sad music playing in the background as someone is laid out on the cold concrete with a bullet to the chest. To make matters worse, economic times were very rough in the 80’s. You know the hood motto for the Reagan era “The rich get richer and the poor don’t get a f*ckin thing”. In the eyes of many black youth, they had two choices: One was working at McDonald’s and the other was selling drugs on the corner. A lot of people took option B. Not, to say it was the right choice because as I became older and understood economics, I realized if you started out at McDonald’s as a teen and worked your way up to least a mid-level job in corporate, you would make a lot more money (and have better job security) than standing out on a corner, but those types of lessons aren’t taught in schools. It was the middle of the afternoon in the fall of 1987. Although the neighborhood hustlers didn’t openly sell drugs where kids were playing, there were no rules to where they kept their drug stash. Within the neighborhood and especially amongst the kids, we all kind of knew where they hid their drugs. In a bag of chips behind the bushes. Under the third bench next to the monkey bars. By the sewer grate next to the abandoned car. It was just common knowledge. On that day, as we were playing basketball on one of the crates, we saw a crackhead, wandering around the playground area. Normal. What wasn’t normal was how he kept pacing back and forth, looking around. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was trying to do and it also didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for. After a few minutes, his eyes caught a small bag, hidden behind some bushes. Initially, he seemed as if he wanted to be a bit more covert but he just dipped down, grabbed the bag and then looked around nervously. A second later, one of the kids playing ball with us, ran around the corner and told some of the hustlers what happened. Seconds later, another older guy at the end of playground shouted, “A yo Dave, one of them smokers grabbed ya stash.” The crackhead began to fidget and then nervously walked away from where he’d grabbed the stash. He must have been already high because as he walked through us kids, he actually tried to hide in my friend’s jacket……. while my friend has his jacket on! My friend shoved him away and the crackhead began to try and getaway. When I say getaway, I mean he ran into the house of one of his relatives and locked the door. “Oh shit, here come Dave now!” The dealer whose stash was stolen went to check his spot and immediately began to walk in the direction where people were pointing out the crackhead. His crew was behind him as they walked across the playground to where the crackhead was staying. Soon, dozens of people were standing in front of the house, waiting for Dave and his crew to get there. For me, I didn’t have to go far, the house was right next door (more on that later). Dave and his crew walked up to the door and kicked it. The door didn’t give way but it shook the frame. They banged on the door and one of them tried to pull the knob off. Someone inside quickly peeked out the front curtain and then closed it. After a few seconds a woman slowly opened the door “I know..I…I…I know what he did was wrong but he not here, he left…..” she said as Dave and his crew tossed her out of the way. By now there were at least 30-40 people standing around outside the home, me being one of them. You couldn’t really see much but you could hear the punches, the kicks and the sound of someone getting hit with a chair. Suddenly one of the guys said, “take this nigga outside!”. Soon the crowd parted as Dave and his crew dragged the crackhead out, into the front yard. They then proceeded, to stomp and beat the man into the ground. There were only a few punches because after about 5 seconds the guy was laid flat out in the dirt. They then proceeded to stomp him to the point in which he was just motionless. As they stood over him, a few of the guys spit on him and tried to wake him back up to no avail. Then, Dave, the leader of the crew began to look around and saw a large slap of concrete at the side of the garden. I can’t give any logical explanation for why a giant piece of concrete was just lying around but it was the projects and……random items just happened to be lying around. Dave then went over, picked up the concrete over top of his head and looked around at the crowd. Not one person uttered a phrase to prevent what was going to happen, everyone just stood there with their mouths open. He then slammed the concrete onto the back of the man who let out a yelp. It wasn’t a holler or scream but a yelp. The man writhed in pain as Dave and his crew slowly walked away, as the crowd began to dissipate. Since I lived next door, I stood there for a few minutes wondering if the guy was going to ever get up. About an hour later, was when the two police officers saw him on the ground and checked on him. They tried to ask him some questions but he was unresponsive, so they surveyed the area and simply walked away. By now everything in the projects was back to normal, with the exception of a man who probably had just had his spinal cord broken lying on the ground. To provide some insight, I would like to provide some closure on what happened to the man. Did he live? Did an ambulance ever come and take him? Was he permanently damaged? I honestly don’t know. The last image I have of the man is of him on the ground with people causally walking by him. Many years later, as a young adult, I saw Dave again. In fact, I’d seen him numerous times since the incident but because of the age difference, we never really spoke and we rarely were in the same circles. However we both happened to be at Joe, the neighborhood barber. Joe and another customer had also been there that day and for some reason, someone asked Dave about the incident. Interestingly enough, Dave expressed heartfelt regret over the situation. As life progressed, he’d learned a lot about the world and had gone on to college, finished graduate school and started a family. In his previous life, he explained how he didn’t really think about the consequences of his actions. Yet, life had taught him many lessons which he’d learned to carry on and become a productive member of society. He now does spoken word poetry and you can see him at numerous venues around the city. I doubt if he’ll go into these kind of tales, but from what I can say, he’s honestly a great guy and a great role model to the youth. Reflecting on this incident, there were so many contradicting and powerful aspects to it. With the crack cocaine era being a prominent aspect of life, such violence was not unheard of. At the time, many people felt it was worth it but when you talk with those who were involved that world, most wish they’d chosen another path. After 10-15 years, it became common to see both users and dealers not living the most comfortable lives. Personally, I also learned a very important lesson which remained within me throughout my youth. I’d always understood this but it became deeply embedded in me when I saw the rock being slammed on that man’s back. The lesson was……. SAY NO TO DRUGS!
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I’m doing life wrong
apparently, if you are a DRUG ADDICT,LIAR, CHEATER, THIEF, MANIPULATOR, HUSTLER, DRUG DEALER, SCAMMER, SELFISH PIECE OF SHIT: you get taken care of, fed, all your bills paid for, hand-held, worshiped, and anything else you might want or need handed to you. and your girlfriend-who-is-your-son’s-age gets all the perks, too.
I’ve been doing this wrong the whole time
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jamalgreene325-blog · 7 years
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“Yeah, nigga, what if I had gotten busted fucking around with you and your nickel and dime operation? You’re putting me and my family at risk and the police wouldn’t believe I was not down with you and I can’t feed my family from a prison!” Bishop was full of anger. Half of him wanted to blast Butch but because of their history, he didn’t. Bishop knew how it was trying to put paper on the table and feed your family, being turned down by companies because of police history because you’re automatically guilty for whatever reason and no matter if you can do the work, your criminal history condemns you. No matter the situation, there is a solid wall keeping people out of the job market. They can even deny you housing. Brothers and sisters can’t get a break, so often, they return back to the streets where they’re welcomed, criminal record and all.
“Man, Butch, I can’t tell you what the fuck to sell or who to sell to; but not around me. I need my job.”
“Man, Bishop, I wasn’t trying to play you, son! I only sold some of my product after hours and when you weren’t around. It’s my side hustle, man. It’s rough on these streets. The bills have to be paid, with my woman out of work, the bills are double, and I never had any work on me when we were selling our shit. What I do on my time is my business.”
Bishop slapped Butch across his face. “Don’t play me, nigga; this shit is done ‘cause if I had gotten busted you weren’t going to cop to the drugs or tell them muthafuckin’ crackers it’s yours. That I’m not down. I know you wouldn’t because you’re not build for that! Dude you are going to stay away from me with that shit and our little thing here is over! You take your share of the profits and bounce, feel me?”
“Yeah I feel you, son.”
 Chapter 13 Bishop
Bishop had changed his way of thinking about people, places, and things. Bishop found recovery while in prison. The addiction of hustling was just as powerful as the addiction to the drugs he once sold on the streets of Harlem.
He had been struggling to change his life and to turn a negative into a positive. While away in prison, Bishop learned a useful trade in Building Maintenance. He received his GED and then a BA degree on the road to changing himself. Bishop had been turned down for several jobs because of his felony record. Bishop’s emotions ran high during those early days after coming home. Every turn brought negative response whenever he applied for a job. Many of the temptations of the streets pulled at him and it haunted him remembering the fast life. The women, the jewelry, the cars, his BMW. Bishop fought off those feeling of negative desires. Every time he went to hang out around his old hood, he wanted the rush of being back in the game. He knew it was only the Jinn whispering his welcome. There was a spiritual battle raging inside, good and bad, but not evil because every hustler is not necessarily evil but miseducated. Bishop held on to the rope of Allah and stayed away from the desires.
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