First off, let me start off with a do work, put a jersey on, chuck noblauch’s and c’mon feet to my fellow footsoldiers out there.

Ok, for those who don’t understand what the fuck I just said, a glossary will be posted shortly by a semi-serious footsoldier still looking to earn his stripes in thesestreets ™ :-) ok, ok, I’m kidding, all the cats on here are good, fun-loving folx, so I won’t rile cats up just for the sake of riling mu’thufuckin’ cats up.

Ok, this ish is about stories, right? Well, I got sumpin’ that’ll be entertaining for bama’s and joe college heads alike. It’s entitled: “Gyot Damn Cats Who Ask You to Get Their Wing and Then Throw them ill Wrenches”…..Wannaheereithereitgo…

I was at the mutha’fuckin’ cribbo watching them NC ‘heels front like they could make a comeback on Kansas, despite Kansas having two scary ass -kneecapping- looking big men to handle Hansboroughs undersized, overrated ass, wheeeeen……DB Coop hit me up talkin’ bout,

DBC: ‘dawg, I need you to be on thesestreets’ (so to speak)….

Me: ‘Naw fam’, I got ish to do’

DBcizzle: ‘C’mon man, for real…’

Me: ‘Naw Brah’, I said I can’t do that shit, I’m mad busy!’

DBCoopeezi: ‘C’mon yo, I think I got some thirsties I need your help with’…

Me: ‘Alright cool, come by then, f this work’ :-) (And so the saga begins).

Coop comes thru, we get to drankin’ on dranky-drank with sour tasting ice and hypercarbonated pop. We call the alleged ‘thirsties’ and coordinate the best way for all of us to meet up, without Coopizzle or I spending too many snaps on them. So we encourage them to either, have us over and we’ll bring our cheap liquor that’ll be poured into the bottle of some expensive liquor to front, oooor, meet us at a spot (assuming that they’d have sipped before leaving their spot).

Due to complications, that shit didn’t work. When we scooped them, these sober ass women were treating us as if we have to ‘get in good’, again……after we spent an evening building rapport the previous days…..So instead of starting at phase 3 or 4 in the holler process, these women acted like they met us through some friends in passing. Sigh……that said, we took them to a spot that wasn’t known for male or female competition, to ensure neither group was distracted and to give us every opportunity at first diiiibs.

I tried to get focused on keeping her girls entertained while dbcoop ran his bond, jimmy bond routine on his girl, but they were too self-conscious about being warm, drinking too slow, then drinking too fast, then people accidentally bumping them. Eventually their main wrenchwoman (like henchman, but a wrench wielding woman) suggested they go downstairs (whiile I was in the bathroom, mind you…I said mind that shit, that’s some salty mess!).

So I came out from the bathroom feeling 10 lbs lighter but looking like i just ate a handful salt n’ sour chips when I saw they weren’t there, but Coop hit me on the text to let me know they were downstairs. At this point, I had the choice of going down there and potentially being on cake sets with disinterested women or staying upstairs and playing the odds with interested women. And the survey says? I stayed upstairs like a mu’ufucker. I did text my guy to see if he needed help, but under those circumstances fellas, don’t just use the wing for the sake of using a wing, be honest in assessing whether the wing can actually pose a significant benefit. Fortunately, Coops said I was good to stay upstairs so I did like a mug.

I ended up spotting this cute girl who had a bit too much makeup on, but I Was able to look past that because she used the same amount of effort putting makeup on as she did looking at me. She wasn’t the illest, or the coolest, but she was certainly the thirstiest, and when it comes to being out and sipping, thirsty always wins.

Needless to say I put in work, was able to play smash bros. despite a vicious wrench thrown by whom? The same gentleman who interrupted my work, and took me from my abode to help him out…..Coops….he made a reference to the possibility of her getting ‘botox’, a condescending mention of ‘folks with money don’t usually note that they money’, threatened to stab her with a fork (albeit playfully) and even gave advice that related to her gynecologists ability to administer general care. Now, despite the throwing of several goodwrenches, he did suggest that I get her coffee when we rolled through a dinner known for having practices straight out of the 50’s and 60’s. I won’t speak to that now, but I will admit that that coffee kept her in the game long enough for me to outlast the wrenches and do what I promised to do, drop her off at home. Needless to say, I got home at 7am and am officially 3 days behind on sleep thanks to Coop getting me focused this past weekend.

Regardless, that is a tale of how playing wing turned into me dodging ill wrenches…..Since the intent behind the wrenches wasn’t expressly to hate, I’m not gonna call anyone a hater, because the shit he was saying was funny as shit. But it made me play the moderator and the diplomat unnecessarily and potentially could’ve cost me the game, which would’ve made me salty as shit regardless of the intent. Either way, it’s all well and good because it’s good to get out with thesestreets vets when possible.

Peace and a bottle of dep hair grease. (and yes hair gel is the same as grease, dammit).