Thu, Jun. 29th, 2006, 12:52 pm
Toward the end of his career, point guard Derek Harper threw a wrench into a possible trade to the Utah Jazz, saying, "You go live in Utah."
Sorry Dee Brown. Have fun with the mormons, homey.
So bitches guess whose ass is going to the gotdamn WORLD SERIES TOMORROW. Yes it's yours truly. Mr. Pickles has this friend, Shiv, who got us tickets and shit. He is a functionary of the First National Bank of Cicero and as you might imagine, has mob connections. By day he is a very competent dark field microscopist, but that is beside the point. He got us tickets and we will be there to see the Sox THROW DOWN. I can't wait to see those Astros get Pierzynskied.
As you may know, I grew up on the SOUT SIIIDE and I am happy to see the boyz in black from da hood finally making good and happy to know that they will bring Chicago back to baseball glory before those pansy ass Northsiders can get their shit together. WTF Wrigleyville y'all are a bunch of mofos who pee in people's yards and shit. No class whatsoever. I've never seen a Sox fan pee in anybody's yard, and that alone is reason enough to love them.
I gotsta head out and hit up Super Bowl. I'm diggin' on this chick from way back in the DeKalb days and shit and Ima roll up in my fine new vehicle, and she'll never know that I borrowed that shit because as per usual I'm sure things will go well for all of two weeks and then I'll never see her except when I run into her up at the Jewel and she pretends she doesn't know me because she's tryin' to mack on some OG who's all up in the dough and shit but yo, peace out and have a good night all.
Mon, Oct. 10th, 2005, 03:55 pm
I could tell you an unfortunate story about a bag of weed and an ill-timed brush with the law, but you know it's all good now. My boys from the South Side are rollin' with the big dogs and are gonna win the World Series.
Being pulled over is an outrage. Weezie is an outrage. There have been many outrages perpetrated at the hands of the folks in power for many years. Word.
Tonight I came home from work, yes work, can you believe it? I started drinking right away and by the time Hashim called to see who was who and what was what, I was too liquored up to actually drive anywhere, even taking into account that I do not in fact possess a driver's license that could in fact be suspended or revoked. He told stories about what may be in the plans for the evening but did not make mention of how to transport my impaired self to such festivities. Never mind that nothing sounded very exciting, but I couldn't help but feel somewhat left out by the lack of concern for my transportation needs.
I acted like I didn't care what they did and apparently that makes me very appealing because within the hour, a car arrived at Auntie Jamesetta's house to pick me up and take me away to some party up on the west side but it wasn't exactly happening which explains why I'm already home.
Sun, Apr. 24th, 2005, 02:08 pm
So yesterday Mr. Pickles, Rollinbigdawgs, Hashim and myself were driving in a borrowed Cutlass Supreme to Super Bowl and were pulled over as the result of a cracked tail light. I SHIT YOU NOT! You think shit like that doesn't really happen and is only one of those stories some wack ass dude from the south side tells when he claims he was wrongfully busted with crack but you know he was driving like 900 miles an hour down by Stoney Island and shit and he tells you "The cops said my TAIL LIGHT was cracked but it wasn't and shit!" Then his PD files a motion to squash the arrest and they lose and it's all HIGH bullshit and what not but then it actually happened to me because you know Mr. Pickles borrowed that car from his SISTER who works for DCFS and shit and she's all legit and wouldn't be havin' nobody drive around with a cracked tail light especially considering the fact that she is WELL AWARE of her brother's propensity to be drug enhanced at any given moment.
So we'll get a PD who will file a motion to squash the arrest and depending on how that goes in court all will be right in the world.
Other than that, Davorious B. Jones has just been keep on keepin' on. Ima watch the Bulls game tonight and shiznit, and maybe kick back with this fine girl I met walkin' on Roosevelt the other day.
Sat, Mar. 26th, 2005, 10:37 pm
So how many of you EFRIENDS would like to bet $20 that Illinois will win the NCAA tournament?
Tonight I went out with this dude I met in the jizzoint. There are certain friends one makes in the Department of Corrections, and as long as they're not trying to fuck you in the ass, they can be good friends indeed. They will, more likely than not, understand the value of being able to fashion a shank out of an ordinary household object such as a comb or toothbrush. If you're very special, you might have a plastic knife stashed away because you never know when you'll need it. Anyway, long story short, he's a pretty cool kid who knows good sources for the drugs that you normally associate with wealthy white kids but we enjoy nonetheless. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a nice rock as much as the next dude on the street in Maywood, but word, that was fun.
Thu, Mar. 24th, 2005, 04:12 pm
What up, biatches?
So tonight the homies and I will hit it up west side style and watch ol' boy Dee Brown and the Illini put the vicious smackdown on those pansy ass Milwaukee kids. Word.
Now after being away for a while I have come to the realization that I am once again without gainful employment. It has come to my attention that I have spent far too much time bouncing in and out of the fine correctional facilities of the state of Illinois and as I have matured and become more educated as to the ways of the world, I have realized that folks, it is time for me to become a contributing member of our society. Now how exactly I am to contribute is a topic open to debate but I am hoping to find my true calling. I should further my education at this point and perhaps share that stash of weed under my mattress with some more unfortunate kids.
Wed, Mar. 23rd, 2005, 10:27 pm
Bitches, you betta reprezent because I am out! Davorious B. Jones is in fact a free man, at least as long as my P.O. doesn't find out about that little incident last night.
Fri, Jan. 28th, 2005, 04:53 pm
Here's the dealio, peeps.
The prison has a library, and being a man of smooth means even in my dire circumstances, I have befriended the librarian, an unattractive but kind woman. I seek not to take advantage although I know my boyish good looks along with my street cred and knack for picking up some book learnin' on the side would combine to make me in fact irresistable to a certain type of slightly overweight woman who yearns for something more in her life. I talk to her from time to time while perusing the statutes and have learned a thing or two about her personal life, including her son who has special needs and a hard time in school. She leaves the room from time to time and left to my own devices what is there to do but guess as to the password to get onto her computer. She is not a complicated woman and uses a simple password, the name of her son.
In my adventures, I was in need of an accomplice, an unlikely fellow who goes by the nickname cucaracha, a slight hispanic fellow who speaks broken english and had a gun in a car. He lies in wait in the hallway and signals to me with a "cough cough" when she is about to return so I can sign off and jump away from the chair but I continue to stand near the computer and accidentally brush against the mouse so as to make it believable that the login screen would be visible instead of the screen saver which is as you may have guessed scenes from remote tropical locales.
Wed, Jan. 26th, 2005, 11:05 am
I have not been posting as much to my fine ELJAY as I would like because of numerous reasons. I was busy at work, yes it is true, but unfortunately it has come to be that my life circumstances and shiznit are a bit discombobulated and all right now.
As you may or may not be aware, the last time I had a run in of sorts with the judicial system, the result was probation and shit. That is not as good as the time before then when my esteemed attorney and I crafted the "not my pants" defense which hooked me up with a much needed aquittal.
Now, however, my luck has run out. I was in fact busted and they were in fact my pants and I am currently writing to you from DOC and shit. Oh shit I gotta go now. More soon.