My roommate wore my old-school, St. Louis Rams Marshall Faulk jersey out the other night. Now, I got this thing in 2001, at the beginning of the season, so I only wore it about 3-4 times before we played the Rams in the Super Bowl (who knew we’d be good, we were 5-11 the year before) and it was awkward to wear after that.
But we were going to the Sox game and I was digging through this storage tub of jerseys I have in my closet. We stumbled across this secret fire, it’s a really tight jersey and it’s huge so it fit. He wore it out to a bar, the Sox-Giants game and then to The Kels.
And pretty much, what happened was this: he was stereotyped and treated like a thug all night. It was crazy. We said he lived a day in the life of a black man. Here’s a rundown of what happened:
-Went to the bar we work at before the game and he was denied by a co-worker when he went to scoop a round of free beers from behind the bar. Meanwhile, I was getting all the beers I wanted. Not too bad, yet, but it gets worse…
-Heading into the game, three of us walked right in no problem and he got frisked by security…
-He was stopped by an alcohol compliance officer in Fenway, one of those guys in the yellow shirts whose job it is to tattle on people. Yea, he looks older than me, but I didn’t have the jers on…
-At the Kels after the game, they don’t let him in and tell him he needs to take off the jersey before he can enter. Now this is the Kels, you can wear shorts/hats/whatever there. It’s an Allston bar, no one cares…
-He takes of the jersey, goes to go in and gets stopped. They say he’s too drunk, suggest he go and get a cup of coffee (?) and come back in 10 minutes. Obviously they were just trying to get him to not come back (why wouldn’t they have just kicked him out, outright? As if 10 minutes matters).
-When he gets to the door the second time, they tell him he can’t come in unless “you tuck in your chain.” I loved this one tons. It’s a little gold necklace that you’d see on anyone and not even notice. This isn’t Fabolous here. This isn’t Flava Flav’s clock. It’s a little average chain.
Basically, after all this, the morale of the story is: don’t EVER go out in a Marshall Faulk jersey and not expect trouble. Cause you’re getting it.
You can’t stop Lil Wayne these days. He’s too huge. No one out there putting out as much stuff as him right now, hands down. I don’t know how he doesn’t run out of stuff to say. New song every day at his pace. Plus, you got a remix? You’re calling Lil Wayne. Because you want it to be a hit don’t you?
His next CD is going to be so huge. T.I. and Lil’ Wayne are officially the new era of rap. Both are everywhere, everyone likes them (including girls) and they have tons of songs/videos/appearances. They’re the new standard. We’re over Nas, Jay-Z’s last CD sucked and he’s too old, 50 is whack, G-Unit isn’t as big, and who knows when the next Dre or Em album will come out.
For now, the standard and future of rap can be measured in Weezy and T.I.
You know what’s weird? Why is the handwriting of girls and guys inherently different? Ever think about that? Girls write different then guys – always have. And if a guy has girly handwriting, you know, huge letters but perfect and all even, then he’s kinda gay. And if a girl has bad handwriting, forget about it, you need to find someone else. You want to read chicken scratch notes? (How ill were notes, btw. In like 7th grade, it was so fire to get a note from a girl).
But why are the styles so different? It’s not like they were taught any differently. It’s just a thing in your mind I guess. Weird.
Dry cleaning is one of the best things out. Don’t get how it’s done or what they do, but it’s so nescessary. I’ll never iron again.
I don’t know if this will work for you, but here’s a link to a video of when the bat was in my house. Very entertaining.