Noon came around one sultry morning and as I hopped out of bed the idea of starting my senior year of community college was the only thing on my mind. I showered, combed my beard – as to prevent it from looking like face pubs, because my facial hair tends to do that – put on a nice shirt, and got in my compact car to journey to the life elevator that is community college – and ding ding ding, I was headed up – I arrived early, found my classroom, went in and sat down all bright eyed and bushy. I had spent the last year and a half in a drunk sleep deprived blur so needless to say I was ready for this. Now maybe its God punishing me but as luck would have it a young man walked into the classroom and took seat right beside me. This already made me uncomfortable, I’m a dark corner, loner kind of guy. . . and then he opened his mouth. . . I instantly knew I hated him. Despised his very existence actually. He didn’t do anything to me, and I’m sure if I was deaf and walked out in front of a semi he might even push me out of the way or at least say “watch out bro, semi” I mean I’m deaf so it wouldn’t matter but still. Regardless, I still hated him. He was wearing a flat bill hat and bright orange shoes with no strings with the tongues flopping around like Lamar Odom’s big vainly flaccid penis when he sees what he has to nestle up against every night. Now, I’m writing this basically to release my frustration and I’m banking on the fact that this guy can’t read. So here we go. . . I just wanted to say to the fellow that I get it. You have a big penis, massive really, very scary and intimidating. That’s why your grabbing it all the time; it makes perfect sense. And not even grabbing it really, just like flopping the head of it around constantly over his pants like his penis has a nose and he’s wafting the scent of some apple pie up in to it. Then tugging his balls like a small toy is going to roll down his small intestine and dispense out his ass. And he constantly heavy sniffs too, like he has a cold, but he doesn’t. I know he doesn’t. I also get that people text or tweet you constantly because you’re really awesome and funny too; as noted by the sound your phone makes when you slam it down on the table only to pick it up 5 seconds later. Now I can see some south Cali urban-esque style but its like these white people just watched ATL or New Jack City and were like “So that’s what being black is! I’m gonna fucking wear that!” But last time I checked, the poverty rate for African Americans if 25% in this country and Black victimization accounts for nearly half of the homicides. So if you want me to buy the whole gansta routine then you should make less money and murder yourself. If not then buy some AE cargo shorts, with a brown to tan belt because that’s GQ edgy and fits with nearly everything. Get a neutral colored top, some New Balance sneakers, for the love of god please stop talking, turn on some Coldplay – at quarter volume- and start being generally unhappy like the rest of your race.