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Saturday, July 30, 2005

Mad skrilla

Before you ask:
1.) No, I don't know why her hair's braided
and 2.) I don't know where the Jesus-Bling came from.
All I know is that it's not my fault.

My niece Zoe just seems to be a walking photo op these days. She's a pretty cool kid, though. Funny as hell...

I spent the better part of yesterday afternoon at my brother Darron's house in the ghetto. He got a computer awhile back and needed my help, as he bas-i-cally doesn't really have the slightest clue where to begin with the thing. All he knows is a.) he MUST have one b.) it's supposed make his life easier c.) all of this is somehow done mag-i-cally.

It's always a trip when I go over to his house (or whatever house he is living in at the moment). My oldest brother hasn't always been involved in the most upstanding of activities and his house is the place where ghetto meets fabulous in a big way.

Darron popped by my parents house (unannounced) to come pick me up to fix/look at his computer. I think he surprised me because that way I couldn't really think of an excuse not to go. His girlfriend's friend was driving and before going back to Darron's place, she had to pick up her two kids and stop by the store for some liquor and cigarettes (single cigarettes of course).

This, of course, took awhile, so we (me, my brother, his girlfriend, his girlfriend's friend, her older daughter and her 2-year daughter -- who rode up front sans car seat or safety belt *sigh*) drove around running errands in an un-airconditioned Buick Regal (you know, a big boat of a car).

My brother offered to buy me something to drink from the liquor store and asked me what I wanted and, of course, I responded with "Beer". In hindsight, I should have been more specific -- as I discovered later, that he purchased a 40oz. bottle of malt liquor for me...and not just any brand, but Cammo, which is just about the vilest malt liquor in existence.

Back at his house, he served this swill to me in a glass...

with ice...

and a straw.

At Darron's house -- in the ghetto -- he has a closed circuit TV and cameras outside of his house. Menthol cigarettes are a consumed with reckless abandon and if you ask for a light ... someone points you in the direction of the gas stove in the kitchen.

Like I said, it's a trip.

Later, I spent the evening with my sister Robbyn drinking beer and amaretto, which I must admit sounds kinda gross, but is a surprisingly tasty combination...and will get you fucked up mighty quick.

Tomorrow is going to be a big family BBQ thing. Not really looking forward to it because it is at my Aunt O's house and I pretty much do not like her, her husband, or her children. However, my brother Junior is in town for his summer break and he's the bomb.

Speaking of which:

Zombie Debate Update:

Both Darron and Junior (my older brothers) told me that they would not become zombies with me, however, they would also not shoot me, instead they would lock me up in a cage and feed and take care of me in the hopes that a cure for zombie-ism could be found.

Not quite the answer I was looking for...but I admire their willingness to compromise.

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