• » Name: Meka Soul
• » Location: Los Angeles, CA
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Slap-Boxing With Jesus

Bitches And Sisters

A little disclaimer before I get this off my chest: this is in no way to disrespect, demean or devalue women. I mean, most scallywhops do more than enough of that anyways for me to further shit on the perceptions of the woman in today’s society.

That’s not to say I won’t try my best, however.

So during the rare moments a television show – like say, Floyd Mayweather popping up on at WWE Raw – keeps my attention, I often find myself flipping through stations (and/or pacing in my apartment while listening to my iPod because I can multitask like that) thanks to my self-diagnosed, part-time ADD during commercials or when the illegal download is taking longer than expected. Anyways, I flip the set to E!, where some random show about the hottest women on the Internets is on. While I normally don’t have any problems with stuffing myself inside the juicy conch of a woman who’s willing to damn near reveal their uterus online, I think I can say it for a good chunk of the viewers of this site (i.e.: all who take the time out of their “busy” schedules to talk shit in that section below) that it’s essentially shitting on the chances any of us have with getting some ass from someone who doesn’t mind that our Maybach keys eerily look like a bus pass.

Follow me on some hip-hop-slash-hippie psychology for a minute.

Think about it: whenever we see these exotically dolled-up tragic mulatto cases dressed in the finest of pseudo-hooker wears straight from Trashy Lingerie which supposedly gives off the sex appeal that usually commands some random-ass guy to drop an exorbitant amount of coinage on them (read: tricking) in the hopes that they could bag themselves a trophy wife. And because hip-hop has warped all of our ideals with its flashy, over-the-top materialism, convincing the male youth that success is now measured by either the length of your dick or the girth of your wallet, leading them to believe that all a woman wants are some bangles and some dope kicks instead of, say, long-term financial security and emotional stability, and the female demographic to believe that all they need in life are said bangles and sneaks rather than a strong support system.

My solution to all this flim-flam? Either beat your meat like it owes you money [||][||], stop giving a fuck about a bidge and handle your own business, or both. Either way you’ll keep your paper in your pocket and thus, a grip on your sanity. Got it? Good. We now return you to your regularly scheduled disdain for all things rap. Meanwhile, I’m going back to the Pinky video I just yoinked. Fuck this shit.

*takes off headphones, breathing heavily, and steps out of booth*

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