Ridin' Dirty

Earlier this evening I decided to dip into the darkness and go holler at a friend of mine. Since this fool lives on the other side of Dallas and the Black Bomber doesn't have a radio I turned the headphones up on the iPod and started out on my journey. I get to Mesquite, say my peace, show some love, and dip out. It's a beautiful evening so I hop on 80 west and as soon it merges with 30 the damn Dallas Sheriff's office has the interstate blocked searching cars. If you know me at all then you know that 1. Me and the coppers don't get along and 2. Vegas is always ridin' dirty. I don't have a driver's license. I am approaching red lights, cops are out with flashlights and dogs and I gotta think fast, cause there is no way in hell I am even gonna speak to a fucking cop much less stop. I see an exit. I hit it. It's St. Francis. Owned. The copper's are on the service road. I am coming up on the right hand turn to get on St. Francis and I start to panic cause I know I'm fucked. Luckily the desire within to avoid the cops and my head being on a swivel it hits me. I can hit this parking lot and back track to St. Francis. I hit it. Fuckin' success. I make my way to St. Francis and follow it around to Jim Miller. Jim Miller to Lakeland. At this point I'm screamin' cause I'm home free. I hook a right on Lakeland "What's up Owenwood United Methodist Church." That's where my folks were married. John West to Buckner. Left on Buckner. I start getting Nostalgic. I mean this was my stomping ground for numerous summers. Gaston Middle School, Hermosa, Buena Vista, Casa Linda, Chili's, Blockbuster. I hit the light at Garland Rd. Pass Dr's Hospital where my papaw passed away. Then pass Flagpole Hill. Left on Northwest Hwy to Northpark Mall and 75 North. Shit was awesome. Tonight was a great night for a drive. iPod was loud as shit, cruising the mean streets of Dallas. 

So, Fuck you coppers.. I'm Fucking Darkwing Duck and my head is perpetually swivelizing.. 

-veg

Race Relations and Vegas

It isn't often that I dabble in the issue of race. This is not because I am scared of the subject, but because I do not hate/love people for the color of their skin or what ethnicity they are. I hate/love everyone on a 1 on 1 basis. Which brings me to a story about what brought this about.. 

On Tuesday I was getting tattoo'ed. I had been on the table for about an hour or so, and these girls walk in. They were cute from what I could see, and 1 of them wanted a four leaf clover on her ankle (boorrriiinnngggg) because she was 1/4th irish. Really? A four leaf clover on your ankle because your a 1/4 irish? Ron was grinding on my elbow and I wasn't in the best mood so I started giggling a little and responded with "white people." Ron starts laughing and asks why I said that. "Well, it is in my experience that white people will do some stupid shit like permanently tattoo a four leaf clover on their ankle when they're only a 1/4 irish." The girl gets a little offended because I was making fun of her idea. She looked at me and with an angry look she said.. 

"Aren't you white" 

Without hesistation I responded. 

"I'm a...

1/4 Hustler

1/4 Con Man

1/4 Go getter

1/4 Aggressive 

and I'm 1/2 Hungry... 

I transcend the colors of race and ethnicity, I care about 1 color and that color is green. Because at the end of the day it doesn't matter who the president is, or how bad the economy gets. The Wu-Tang clan said it best.. C.R.E.A.M. 

Cash Rules Everything Around Me. 

I can't have the things I want or do the things I want to do. I can't pay my bills, or feed my family if I don't have money."

With a smile on my face I proceeded to tell this girl that when I left that evening I was gonna do what I always do, and that's go make my bank account grow as fat as I am.. 

See, she thought I was trying to be something I wasn't. Maybe a white person that hated white people? I don't really know. Really, I just thought her idea was fucking stupid and I wanted to get a rise out of her to entertain myself... 

-veg

*Some parts of this blog are fictional and for the sole purpose of entertainment.. 

Pulled this off of my myspace blog. Myspace is sinking.. So I decided I should salvage this beauty.. 

Ladies and Gentleman - This is Juan. 

Vegas had the pleasure of meeting Juan last Saturday night while I was enjoying a wonderful evening with some good friends on 6th street in Austin, Tx. Now as most of you know, 6th street is a pretty wild place filled with frat boys, and sorority girls, gangsta's and chicken heads, cowboys and cowgirls, homeless men and women. People of all colors, creeds, and origins and also the bitch ass motherfucker's we love to hate - the PO-lice.. My story begins around 2:30am early Sunday morning. My friends and I were leaving a club called Prague (I highly recommend this place the women are hot. They have all 32 flavors, there was this bad bitch named "Amanda" that worked there, she was Columbian.. Let me tell you, her ass was.. nevermind..) anyways, where was I? Oh yeah, so we stumble outta Prague which is actually on 5th so, we make it up a block to 6th and start trekking to our hotel and as we make our way down 6th there are fights breaking out left and right, but none of them were really entertaining so we keep going til we get down to Neches and 6th. As we were coming up on the corner Juan and his friends are laughing, and we really don't pay them any mind, until I hear Juan shout something at this gay man walking down the street with a buddy and 2 chicks. See Juan decided he was going to keep it "real" and talk shit to this gay cat to impress his little flame he had on his shoulder (you can see her in the pic, she is wearing the white shoes.) I mean this dude was a little broke wristed, but he wasn't a small guy, and he took offense to what Juan was saying. There is some banter back and forth between them and we're nearing the end of the street. Juan says something that I couldn't quite makeout, this obviously upsets the gay guy so he starts moving towards Juan at a rapid pace. In this instance there are 2 things Juan didn't know..

1. This gay man likes Kissing Men and Kicking Ass. 
2. ALWAYS keep your guard up if a motherfucker is coming at you!!

I guess Juan thinks they are gonna bump chests, cause obviously "fags" don't fight. WRONG AGAIN, Motherfucking WRONG. Gay guy gets Juan with a superman chest push, it's a 2 handed push, you know the one where your neck is whiplashed, your feet come out from underneath you, and your parallel with the pavement for a few seconds so it looks like your flying like superman. Anyways, Juan hits pavement hard, like real hard, his head hitting the concrete sounded liiikkeee - well it sounded like a motherfucker's head hit the pavement from a few feet in there. Juan was instantly fucked, we all saw it, he tried to recover, he leaned up into a 90 degree angle and then he took a devastating blow to the temple. While Juan sat up, gay guy comes through with a left hook straight to the Temple. K fucking O'ed this nigga Juan, I mean his eyes rolled in the back of his head. And again Juan's head hit the concrete. HARD. In the midst of this, gay guy's buddy and Juan's buddy exchange fist a cuffs and I turn to look at Juan and his flame is trying to make him come 2. This is when my motherfucking man Armel comes through with the pic above. It was like Armel knew the shit was gonna happen.. 

Blackberry Bold - check
Right hot key pressed - check 
Camera on - check 
Flash on - check 

"Smile for the camera Juan" - *SNAP*

Juan's friends are frantically trying to wake Juan and what they don't realize is this nigga is not breathing so I remind them "Yo, that nigga is not breathing, this nigga is dead son!! Call the fuckin ambulance" This was about the time we walked off, cause if any of yall know Vegas yall know damn well the cops woulda got me for something. We cruise down to Heavy Metal pizza, grab a slice and a cold tasty refreshment knock the 4th meal down and start back towards the crime scene. At this point probably 35-40 minutes has gone by since Juan was KO'ed. As we walk up the paramedics are there and Juan FINALLY comes around, and when he does he had to have spit a half gallon of blood outta his mouth.. I was glad to see Juan awake, and not dead, that would have been unfortunate, but you know what? Oh fucking well if he did die, he shouldn't been talking shit. What's the moral of this story? Just because a dude walking down the street might have a broke wrist or two, and he might have a touch of feminine is his voice doesn't mean that big sumbitch won't bust your fucking head. Juan thought he was keeping it real, now this motherfucker got a pic of himself knocked the fuck out on my blog with this incredible fucking story below it entertaining some folks.. 

I hope your okay Juan, wherever you are.. 

-veg

Laziness is not Tired.. It's just lazy..

Juggernaut - Noun. A massive inexorable force that crushes everything in its way. 

I wake up everyday, and I see people who let things stop them. Like the minimalist of things. I am so sick of hearing "I'm tired" Go on with that shit. It seems these days that motherfucker's think this is a viable excuse for their lack of quality performance. Ask my father if he is "tired." Ask Jordan, Tiger, ask your hero if he/she is tired. If you hear Mr. Smith say he is tired, it is truly because I haven't slept in a day or 2. I don't sleep. I have never slept. There are people in my life who scrape by, and piss and moan about not having shit. Yet, they use the smallest excuse to keep them from achieving any goal. Am I perfect? Hell No. Do I let anything get in my way? Hell No. If I set my sight on a goal, or I need to complete something, ain't a damn thing on this earth, or in the heaven's that can stop me. God himself could send some divine intervention, and your gonna see my fatass bust a spin move and then heisman that divine something and achieve my goal. How come these people do not set their priorities straight? Why do these people use "tired" as their bullshit excuse? Be honest folks. You procastinated (sp?) You were lazy. You thought you had something better to do. "Tired" does not make you cool. You sound like a fucking moron. A fucking moron. So next time Vegas asks you how shit is going pleeeaaasssseeee do not say.. "I'm tired" cause I am probably gonna punch you in the face, and then scream out I am the Juuggggeeeerrrrrrnnnnaaaauuuuuttttt Biiiiittttttcccccchhhhh!!!!

-veg

Flag the Pole

So last night in my pursuit to find the end of the world wide web I stumbled across this magnificent piece of  entertainment. This reminded of a dude named Dominique, his crew, and a wonderful young lady trying to earn a couple crinkled George Washington's at a little strip joint off the A1A in coastal Florida.

Back in late 2003 early 2004 I worked at a Best Buy in Tyler, Tx. My Fam MikeBransa worked there with me and Dominique worked there as well selling T.V.'s. Well Dominique always talked about his click - Flag that Pole click. Hahahah.. I asked that fool probly a hundred times what that shit meant. I mean I had an idea, but I never really could grasp the significance behind it. Dominique was a huge ass motherfucker too, like 6'5 400 big, and he would just giggle when I would ask this man what Flag that Pole meant.

Fast Forward a couple anos. It is like April/May 2007 MikeBransa and my fatass are living/working in Florida. One night we sneak out into some nightly activities with a couple co-workers and we end up at this strip club off theA1A across the street from the Atlantic Ocean. (I hope you know where this is going) We got our strip game tight too. FRSH georgie's, some goose to get loose, and a nice spot in between the stage and some college ladies out to have a good time that night. As the night creeps towards day, some casual flirting between Us and the college ladiesis getting nice, were sitting there and this lovely little beauty struts onto the stage and (I have to stop right now to say that in Florida strip clubs are not all nude like Texas, unfortunate I know.) I am not really paying her too much mindcause I am trying to get a kiss, rub, tug, something from one of these drunk girls next to me. When all of a sudden like an Olympic Gymnast this pretty little thing flings herself onto the "pole" and proceeds to give a performance deservingonly the GOLD medal. Towards the end she works her way to the top of the pole and holds on real tight with her legs and then to mine and MikeBrana's amazement she FUCKING FLAGS THE POLE!!! She looks like a Flag flowing in the wind. I mean I was pretty drunk at this point, but I was amazed. I knew. I knew why Dominique could never tell me what it meant, that I had to experience that moment, and take it in, in all its glory..

Watch this video, it gets really good around 1:47. A warm fuzzy feeling came over me when I saw it, and it reminded of that wonderful night in Florida when I experienced a "Flag that Pole" moment.

Before you ask, cause I know you did it too, I reached for the Coach wallet and tried to throw money at the screen. Had a couple benny franks to throw at that glorious display of grace, and athleticism...

-veg

E - Arguing

I hate it. I really do, but I find myself always doing it. Myspace, Facebook, and General Debate & Discussions forums across the interwebz. I will argue about anything. Creationism, Abortion, Domestic vs. Imports, Rota vs. JDM, Retro'ed Sneakers, and the list goes on. I can't stop. The worst part is I will not admit that I'm wrong. Ask King. This fool knows. Give me a topic and tell me a side to pick and I will argue til your blue in the face. I LOVE it, I fuckin LOVE it. I will analyze the facts, and develop the argument, I will disprove your theories and tell you you're wrong. So, after hours and hours of arguing with me, when your face is black and blue, and you hate me, I mean absolutely wanna punch me in the face, and the dust has settled and I am basking in the Aftermath that was our argument, I hit you with this look -

and then I do this \/\/\/

and thhheeeeennnnnn I hit you with the Paul Wall.. 

And it hits you like Terry Tate. I was just fucking with you, and my ego is huge, my self esteem is banging, and I am happy.. 

-veg

Hunting

I enjoy a good hunt. Not like animals, but finding shit, like treasure hunting. I have been trying to watch this documentary for a minute now, and couldn't find it. FINALLY found this B, and watched it last night. It's nice. I recommend you watch it. 

I can't decide though if I like it so much because it is a good watch, or because it took me so long to find it. Kinda like, I'm gonna think it's good no matter what, because of the hunt. 

It is Friday May 15, 2009 AKA Payday. I have been living on crumbs for 2 weeks. It feels good to have some benji's and twomps in my pocket.. Hahahaa.. I'm doing damage on some groceries tonight!!!!!  

For those that don't know my gangster Vegas slang. Here is a quick lesson:

Benji - 100 dollar bill. Short for Benjamin because Benjamin Franklin is on the 100 dollar bill. 

Twomp - Twenty. Armel got me saying this shit. I probably sound like a fool saying it, but that man makes it sound cool, so I gotta chase.. Hahaha.. 

I'm out.. Gotta bring the Ruckus to all these Motherfucker's today.. 

-veg

Post One

 

C 2Tha - You need Jesus. So I'm giving him to you.. 

This man C 2Tha tried to argue to me and the fam that the girls that worked at Bone Daddy's were not cute. Get the Fuck Outta Here holmes.. She was an 8. Stop bullshitting. With that slim waist, and that milk chocolate skin. If I didn't know you, I would a thought you might like dudes, but even a gay dude would give her the D... 

Post 1 - Trying to get the hang of this shit.. 

-veg