This post is long overdue. I suppose I’ve been neglecting writing it because I still am not ready to say these days are past us. But in all honesty I don’t even know if I would have the nerve to pull off half this stuff anymore. I have a large group of friends. And when you have that many people who are that close more frequently than not you will make your own fun. Or so it was for us. When we were in our late teens, back when we had all the time in the world and our invincible shields there weren’t too many limits to our fun. I’m a relatively outgoing person now. But not nearly as obnoxious as I was back then. I’ve been looking through some old video footage of some of our trips and just random hanging out we did. Nick and I on occasion would challenge each other to dares of any kind. Whether it was approaching a girl to holla at her while sitting on the others shoulders or doing so with half a haircut and the other half undone. We would take surveys from unfamiliar women on whom they found more attractive of the two of us or who was the better kisser. There was one time when we decided we would go egging. So about 9 of us dispersed between three cars drove all around uptown egging. We egged one of our friend’s cars first (which in hindsight we were some assholes for doing) than we went to this little uptown bar where the white people hung out and egged the fool out of these people who were just getting there night started. I mean a train of three cars with black dudes and eggs causing havoc. We got this one guy on a bike square in the chest. Then at the end of the night we followed one of our friends home who was out egging with us and egged his car right in front of him (which in hindsight is pretty funny still) Cherry and I would walk about Burboun street and theme rap to women using our most clever pick up lines. “They must call you diamond, cause your eyes look like diamonds” I know it sounds corny and it is but that’s kinda the point. Cause it sure was funny coming out. There was the one Bayou classic when the infamous game of snizzle was born. Snizzle being “Snoop” for the word snatch. And of course snatch
being in reference to women. The game was easy. Whatever person was bust in would call a name and say snizzle. Then the first girl your eyes set on you had to holla at her. It was magnificent in its conception, one of my most prized inventions. We went on trips and gave out nicknames, had battle raps, got kicked out of amusement parks and malls. We had long drawn out 4 hour games of monopoly that would get so intense they would temporarily end friendships. Yes the Tomfoolery was nice, but there was nothing like a ridiculous thing. Ridiculous things were pretty exclusive to me and Kibwe and the women we chose to enact them on. It started off simply as just interrogation. But then we got greedy. Between us we would entertain a lot of females. I don’t even understand what interest they could have taken in us considering we would deliver speeches to the UC about how stupid girls were. Often we would give these lectures to girls using case specific examples from their own lives. The most important of which was Michelle who even though our public lectures had begun to die down we definitely dug into her on an intimate basis. Creating many a great Michelle story. He for a short time dated this highly unreasonable girl named Jimi who for some reason decided that everytime she was displeased about something I said would take it out on Kibwe. Of course this just prompted more unplesant words from me. Like the time when she got him a birthday card then tracked him down in the UC before he barely got the Sommbitch opened and told him how disappointed she was he had not thanked her properly. I responded on Kibwe’s behalf that there is no worse individual in the world than the person who does something for the sake of and then demands a thank you. Kibwe obviously pleased by my comment got a harsh lashing out from Jimi while I remained a big sweetie. Our most prized ridiculous thing was getting chicks naked. Very simply we would use our powers of persuasion to convince women that not only did they want to but it was in their best interest to get naked for us. The remarkable thing is that 80% of the time we didn’t even do anything with the girls. At least not at the time. It started one
evening with Katherine. A girl who had taken a liking to me in the UC and who had long before liked Kibwe. I had never paid her any mind before because in our first encounter she insisted we listen to DJ Taz. I was a little moral Orel back then so any girl not befitting of girlfriend got no play. But that magical evening we used our powers for evil and found out just what good it is to have Jedi mind tricks. We didn’t stop there. We took on several more girls over the course of the year, and on one occasion the two of us took on three girls at once. While our friends partied downstairs. But I have no doubt in saying mine and Kibwe’s most favorite Ridiculous thing involved a girl who would remain fully clothed all night. I’m almost afraid to tell this story because I know I won’t do it the justice it deserves. Kibwe one day took it upon himself to exchange information with this woman who worked At Tulane named Lynette. She was 28 years old with the face of a 12 year old. Large breasts that you could only tell were big if you paid attention because she wore baggy librarian clothes, and really long ass-length hair. When Kibwe suggested one evening we go visit this girl I was at first hesitant. She was a strange fruit to say the least. Very quiet, pretty but like a woman who had been hidden away in a closet all her life. And just a little off center in such away you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it. Well for whatever reason I agreed. When we got to her house I would not believe my lying brown eyes if I didn’t know any better. But her house was absolute squalid. And I promise, to this day I have never, never seen a non Katrina damaged home to look like this. It was as if a Tornado went in and out the back door of someone’s shanty house. I mean mess everywhere. Old Magazines and papers from years ago littering the floor. Clutter on top of clutter. Cats once though dead resurfacing from beneath piles of paper and garbage. A sofa she probably picked up from someone’s porch. My mouth was agape. Little did I realize that with each new room it would become dirtier and dirtier. The Bedroom was next. A Clothes line with old clothes that probably hadn’t been washed stretched all the way through the house. The bedroom was dark and dirtier than the
front. And the Kitchen. My oh my. There are no words. I could not believe a human being occupied this living space. So for whatever reason we decided to look past this and have a conversation with this girl. Oh we were in for a treat. And I lament nothing more than that I can’t remember not one single word spoken between the three of us that night. I do however remember very clearly that on several occasions we asked her questions which she would respond to completely nonsensical. Than on other occasions she would ask us things in the same fashion. We would look at her puzzled as some of the things she said could not have been in English. And she explained to us, very frustrated might I add, that most of the time she would start her sentence off in her head and finish it out loud. Or vice versa. Me and Kibwe both bewildered explained to her that is was unfair of her to be upset at us not being able to interpret what she was saying if we were only privy to half her answer. Which even if we had heard the answer in whole would probably have been just as unclear. This only caused to frustrate her more. It was not too long before we were unable to control our laughter. Of course this did not go over well. Prompting her to ask us to leave to which we obliged but not before I could make a snide remark which I cannot for the life of me remember but had me and Kibwe in stitches. Especially when it caused her to get up and slam the door in our face. The best was yet to come because not 5 seconds later the door was opened back up in a fury. I swear to all that is holy I have never ran so fast in my life than when I saw that door open up. There was no doubt in my mind that this is how the Timothy Mcveigh’s and the David Berkowitz’s live. So I fully expected her to have shotgun in hand. I only turned around once I heard her and Kibwe arguing and realized he was still alive. I don’t know if I’ve laughed as hard since as I did on the way home that night.