All Up In My Pockets

Posted by Just Jamaal Wednesday, October 7, 2009

I wonder if it all really is just a set up. Like the purpose is to stretch me so thin that it becomes easy to poke holes in me. There's no more room for any more hands in my pockets...all the current ones have me by the nuts anyway.

I'm at another auto shop, trying to get the truck inspected and passed. I'm tired of getting tickets on it. Since 5 knows where it's parked now (that's right, they are eff'n with me at the rest), they've been rolling by hittin a brotha up like they were Bobby and I was a giant rock. Crusty lipped, hoofed swine. They hit me up 2 nights in a row last week. Came out to that little orange you-owe-us notice under my wiper this morning. $40 bucks a pop ain't cheap.

Let's see, who else is in line, Oh, my electric company, my gas company, my landlord. Did no one ever inform them that we are all God's chil'uns and we're supposed to help one another? You know it's bad when I pull out the God card and I'm not even the slightest bit religious. Matter of fact, I wouldn't be surprised to have lightening hit my crib right now, travel through this computer and fry my fingers into those little burnt 7-11 taquito rolls that they never change out.

As always, I'm on the hustle for more dough. But it's different being a domesticated knee grow. I can't hustle like I once did. I have to care about what might happen and shit. So if anyone knows any rich old lady's looking for a new cabana boy, or well off at home Moms looking for a yoga instructor, hit me up. I won't rock the gay nut huggers, but I can whip up some breezy drinks and bend you into a pretzel. IJS.


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