Sunday, January 2, 2011

Don't Judge Me

From all of the zombie movies I have seen, the biggest obstacle that the white people go through is supplies (**Note I have never seen a Dominican in a Zombie Movie or book, hence I had no preparation references**). Therefore, I decided that the first stop would be my uncle’s grocery store. Now, reminder, I live in the hood. You would think that finding a gun would be easy; NOT A MOTHAFUKN ONE, not even a fucking BEEBEE gun I tell you, NOTHING. It got me questioning how we got such a high crime rate in the South Bronx. In the absence of guns, I found weapons at my mother’s house that are native to Dominicans, MACHETES. I strapped two on to my back, looking like a ninja. Looking cooler than a mothafucka if I do say so myself. Picked out a matching outfit before heading out, you never know, Miss Awesome might be waiting for Daddy to rescue her, have to look the part J. So I head out to the grocery store, looking like a ghetto super ninja. Started stocking up on canned soup, couldn’t take platanos unfortunately, cereal (Lucky Charms & Fruit Loops are my fav. Don’t judge me), and most important of all……. Vicks vapor-rub (**Note- To us Dominicans, vapor-rub is the cure for everything, fuck around and it might be the cure to this zombie problem, don’t judge me J.)

While turning the corner from the grocery store, I noticed a zombie standing in front of a Kennedy’s Fried Chicken (Not KFC, this is the ghetto one). Old habits die hard so out of instinct I say out loud, “wow, she is wack!”. In that instant, the zombie turns around and locks eyes with me, then starts sprinting. This fat bitch was running after me as if I was carrying the last donut in the world. I was Speedy Gonzalez-ing the shit out of our race because I will be damned if I was going to get killed by some chubby girl. After a few blocks, she was still not slowing down and by this time I’m panicking. The fact that I was yelling every curse word in every language I knew(which are English, Spanish [Duh], Japanese, and German. I know you didn’t expect those last two, its ok, be impressed J) wasn’t helping my stamina. I saw a gated construction site and made an Allen Iverson crossover to it and climbed that gate in one jump. Now for those haters out there that are doubting this Olympic leap I will have you know that when your life is on the line, and your dignity is in jeopardy by being eaten alive by someone you should have been able to get away from by even crawling, you might be able to jump that way too, aaaaannnnddddd I had Jordans on, the black and white Space Jams to be exact J (I know, its cheating, but fuck you it’s the apocalypse).

Apparently the lords of zombiedom gave this Jiggulypuff looking chick the ability to run like a NFL Running-back but forgot to give her jumping powers. I know zombies don’t have emotions per say but she looked super mad. I’m sure our encounter was reminiscent of the times they didn’t have her favorite ice-cream at the supermarket. Also, the fact that I was singing and dancing to my remix of David Guetta’s-Sexy Bitch, Fat Bitch by Jay Ruez. “Dam yous a fat bitch, a fat bitch” wasn't helping. Now for all the chubby joint survivors out there reading this blog, please note that I still love you, you are all in my list of impregnation so that we can save this world, don’t panic. Back to this chubby zombie, bitch tried to start a argument with me, as if we were dating or something. She could not formulate words but I have dated enough ghetto chubby joints to sense an attitude. She was giving out short grunts and looking at me with the “you aint shit and I never liked you anyways look.” And in true immature fashion, I said, “If you the shit then why can’t you jump this gate? Exactly, SHUT THE FUCK UP” (Immature I know, I know. But Fuck you, don’t judge me J). Fell asleep as soon as I got home.


Jay MF Ruez

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