DIRTY DANCIN' GONE WRONG

Time: 19:20
Location: Sports Bar.
Day: Sunday the 18th of September

“Baby, gimme jus’ one more night
One more night
‘cause I can’t live wit’ out you”

Busy Signal’s One More Night (a remake of Phil Collins timeless classic) jus’ started bleedin’ out the speakers and I can’t help but give special attention to the spectacle unfoldin’ right in front of where am perched up on the high stool by the wall (sippin’ on water bottled water, of course). Though, this couple’s been dancin’ before now, I paid them no mind but as soon as this record came on, the chick went “whooooa!” and slowly started grindin’ her thick badonkadonk on the lil’ nigga she’s with…and nah, am not playa hatin’ on a brotha tryna have a good (grind) time but let’s jus’ say, am not impressed with the way the brotha’s grabbin’ dat ass without panache. But goddamn! Shawtie knows how to work dat behind, she’s puttin’ in overtime puttin’ her back into it and like MacDonald, am lovin’ this!

I whip out the laptop from my backpack and started typin’ this, alternatin’ my attention between typin’ this stuff, watchin’ the recaps of today’s premiership games on TV and monitorin’ the “breakin’ news” breakin’ right in front of me…am nosey like that but am classy about it!

Oh, I know some of you are sayin’ in your minds right now like, “what the fuck is news bout a couple grindin’ up on each other” or “go fuckin’ get a job, Dobs” but hold your horses and wait til’ I tell y’all what am seein’…I need a job, by the way!

And yep, you guessed it, am actually writin’ this shit in a sports bar or whatever you wanta call it. Got my laptop wit’ me jus’ in case your ass is doubtin’ me, had gone to the café wit’ it earlier to post the blog bout DMX and his tenth child ( you should go read it, if you haven’t read it yet and if you have, read it again and again and again…lol). The Man. United – Chelsea game jus’ concluded and you already know the result, don’t y’all? “We” (as in, Man. U) fuckin’ blew the “Blues” away; three goals to one…champion stuff! *clears throat* I think Fernando Torres needs to spend a couple of hours layin’ on a psychiatrist’s couch, soccer fans all over the world know why.

19:30
The laptop grumbles, tellin’ me the juice in the battery is runnin’ low and it’d be out in 10 minutes. So, am gonna have to shut this shit down and continue when I get home. In the mean time, am gonna watch how this slow dance pans out.

*********************
Time: 08:40
Location: Crib
Day: Monday the 19th of September

*goes to the radio, flips the channel* Rick Ross and Lil’ Weezy are busy lying bout how they got chopper in the car…ridiculousity!

Ok, so I didn’t get to finish writin’ this piece last night but here we I go with the rest of the “bulgin’’ gist…did you catch that? The operatin’ word here is, BULGING. Get it? Nah? Now concentrate…

Flash back to last night;

So, I was sittin’ in that high stool by the wall, watchin’ these couple slow grind to Busy Signal and shit but then I noticed that when the song changed to Chris Breezy’s Look At Me Now, shawtie wanted to go sit her pretty ass down but the dude wasn’t havin’ none of it, kept pullin’ the babe close to himself, almost like he stole somethin’ and he was tryin’ his damn best to conceal it by usin’ her as a sheild.

As if the gods were bent on exposin’ a brotha’s secret, the music stopped, maybe, for about 20 seconds or somethin’ and they woulda looked stupid standin’ there, dancin’ to nothin’. They gotta get a move on to their table and as they moved, bam…all the strobe, laser and flashin’ lights in the place to be couldn’t hide the bulge in the nigga’s pant! At this point in time, I looked around and realized I wasn’t the only one who’s been payin’ close attention our little dirty dancers!

I almost choked myself laughin’…

I wasn’t really laughin’ at the nigga per se but at the some events from back in the day. I know most men have had the similar experiences before their games got grown.

While growin’ up, I’ve had to keep both my hands in my pocket on so many occasions tryna keep the growth in my pant in check instead of rockin’ them derrieres I was presented. Once, a long time ago, a naughty girl friend of ours, knowin’ full well that my friend had nicely hung his erect dick under his belt (with the head jus peekin’ out of the trouser), raised his shirt, exposin’ the contraband the lil’ nigga was tryin’ so hard to hide!