MN Manmacker's mansploitation
There was a violinist, words written with accent marks and all! Wine, roses. Classic romance. Bet!
Last night, Wojo and Pam went to L’Assiette Pleine. That was a fancy joint, cuz it was French. He had veal! Wojo thought it would be romantic, and it was, or at least it seemed that way at the time. There was a violinist, words written with accent marks and all! Wine, roses. Classic romance. Bet! A lotta people would say that was like mad romance.
From Wojo the Action Hero
Pam seemed to spend her days coming up with tasks and complaints. Last night, she made Wojo take her to a Bonita Casita in downtown Amarillo. That was a home goods store. She wanted curtains. What was wrong with the existing curtains in the trailer? She couldn’t put it into words. She said they was kinda you know, or whatever, they was . They was bum-tickety, that was Wojo’s madeup characterization of her blathering on uninformatively about them’s faults. Bum-tickety.
Wojo couldn’t never have done come up with more than like five words about curtains. Color and size. What else is there? Some of ’em have like patterns and that, the fancy ones do. Not Wojo’s. Somehow Pam was gabbing about ’em for hours. Hours! Bet! She coulda writ a novel!
And Wojo don’t mind. He like spending time with her. But he only got a little time at the end of the day, and he don’t wanna spend it wandering around some fufu store looking at curtains. You know there’s different kinda curtains? Bunchesa kinds. Wojo just had them blackout curtains. The only purpose to a curtain was to black out the light, right? So the best curtain must block out all the light. Henceforth, blackout curtains. Forget about it! Pam got other ideas. She got lotsa ideas about curtains. She like different colors and fabrics and some got like belts and sashes and stuff, like a beauty pageant. They was all less effective — and therefore worse, as Wojo saw it — than the plain gray blackout curtains he already had
Unless you get more windows, why would you ever buy new curtains? They don’t go bad! Bet!
He don’t always like being the center of attention. Maybe that was what was weird about living with Pam. There was only the two of ’em, so her attention was always on him — or on curtains — and she expected him to always be paying attention to her. It was exhausting. When they watch something on teevee, she talk during the commercials and that, shoot! She do talk like she don’t realize Wojo just saw the same dang thing. She talks like a professor, but a professor who only studies things that don’t matter.
From Wojo the Action Hero
Rudeness didn’t bother Rob. Meanness did. Some people had forgotten there was a difference. Rob thought that difference was the most important fact that was largely unknown and unspoken of.
He had a surly look about him. A lot of people would have seen him as rude — quite accurately — but Rob didn’t care. Rudeness didn’t bother Rob. Meanness did. Some people had forgotten there was a difference. Rob thought that difference was the most important fact that was largely unknown and unspoken of.
From The Plumber
. His friends swore that positive visualization and crystal energy would get him into a more exciting, successful life.
New Age culture was not Avery’s cup of tea, so the lack of an authentic New Age vibe was not a problem for him. More than one of his friends had gone the New Age route. He never saw the appeal. It seemed like bullshit to him, or considering that he was in New Mexico, maybe he should say it seemed like muleshit to him. His friends swore that positive visualization and crystal energy would get him into a more exciting, successful life.
But in the end, Avery had found success with a massage parlor back in West Virginia, and he used the real world, the “old” age, to do it. His friends were still meditating on crystal balls and promising themselves a glorious future. Meanwhile Avery was opening a new location and looking into a flower shop as well.
From The Masseur
How he snuck up to Avery in a minimalist hotel lobby, with nothing to hide behind except six uncomfortable chairs, ten dead-eyed staff and a goat-in-a-bathtub’s worth of feminism, Avery will never figure out.
The hotel lobby was fashionably minimalist, with carpet softer than most mattresses and of the most exquisitely vibrant shade of white Avery had ever seen, it was sort of an electric white, like the white equivalent of neon pink, and it was spotless. Shockingly spotless, like fresh off the factory, not a single smudge or mote of dullness. That and an odd statue were the only things of note in the vault-like minimalist “splendor” of the Granger Ben Hotel.
Minimalist doesn’t mean spending less on decor, it means spending more on less decor. The elite will always spend to make sure the peons know they can. In the olden days, they did so by hiring a hundred artisans to work for a lifetime decorating every inch of a cathedral. Now they hire the equivalent in man-hours to create, install and clean a fantastically expensive alabaster carpet that gets steam-cleaned every ten minutes and one statue that was hard to identify but might have been a goat in a bathtub and which may have had a feminist bent. Avery couldn’t quite put his finger on what was feminist about it. It had a plaque, but he was not going to read a goddamn plaque about a feminist, like in a museum, but anyway, both the goaty shape and the bathtubby shape had a feminist air about them. So instead of hiring stonecarvers and woodworkers to build a cathedral for seventy years, they pay a couple million up front for some absurdly dumb feminist goat in a feminist bathtub and a million or two in wages over many years to various cleaners, installers, repairers, etc. They spend just as much, but they call it minimalist.
Avery would rather employ stonecarvers and woodworkers than feminists and cleaning crews. Plus, there’d be more to look at when he sat here twiddling his thumbs like a fucking idiot, waiting an hour and a half for that billionaire shitheel Charlie Tamperton. Avery was definitely deleting his dumbass apps. Except the one with the ostrich that finds coupons.
“There you are, Mr. Flowers,” said a suited man who appeared next to Avery, startling him. How he snuck up to Avery in a minimalist hotel lobby, with nothing to hide behind except six uncomfortable chairs, ten dead-eyed staff and a goat-in-a-bathtub’s worth of feminism, Avery will never figure out. Somehow the Asian man with the dead eyes and swampy cologne managed to surprise him. He gave Avery a polite nod. “I’m Delaney Chu, Mr. Tamperton’s campaign manager. He’s ready to see you now.”
From The Politician
Lotta niggas enter the halfway home thinking they’s on the pretend about following the straight and narrow. But things you pretend are true have a way of coming true, so Steel let that lie lie.
Or he let it lay. He done lain it to lie. Whatever, Steel don’t call Tyrell out on coming home stoned, but he did call him out on slinging. He did it supportive-like, but Tyrell don’t take it nice, so come-to-me-bro turned to come-at-me-brah, and he and him switched from brothers in Christ to niggas in crisis. Tyrell be flipping hot. Steel wanna brawl-a-boom hard, but he kept it cool, calm and collected. He kept Tyrell talking about quitting. Even if it was a lie, it was a step on the road to real quitting.
Lotta niggas enter the halfway home thinking they’s on the pretend about following the straight and narrow. But things you pretend are true have a way of coming true, so Steel let that lie lie.
Or he let it lay. He done lain it to lie. Whatever, Steel don’t call Tyrell out on coming home stoned, but he did call him out on slinging. He did it supportive-like, but Tyrell don’t take it nice, so come-to-me-bro turned to come-at-me-brah, and he and him switched from brothers in Christ to niggas in crisis. Tyrell be flipping hot. Steel wanna brawl-a-boom hard, but he kept it cool, calm and collected. He kept Tyrell talking about quitting. Even if it was a lie, it was a step on the road to real quitting.
The best way to fight addiction is to do it before it starts. Nibble it in the butt!
The at-risk programs was time-consuming for Steel and the others at Ebenezer Baptist. Steel enjoyed it though, spending time with the kiddies, shooting hoops and making music, that kinda thing, turn ’em off from gangsterism. Gotta set ’em on the right road, the road to Jesus, past the roadside attractions of virtue and honesty and forthrightery — no, not past them, they’s the destination — no, Jesus is the destination — or salvation! Jesus is the offramp that leads to the destination of salvation, and the signs pointing a nigga that way are the virtues, like virtue, or maybe… virtues is the offramp? Or the onramp? Steel lost the thread of this metaphor. How can virtue be a virtue? What does virtue even mean? It don’t make sense.
Anyway, he like to feel he’s making a difference, and this was a way to do it. The best way to fight addiction is to do it before it starts. Nibble it in the butt!The young adults got a program that drew upon a federal grant for young men eighteen to twenty-four with adult criminal records but no violent convictions. That included Rico Salierez. He was a slim kitkat with dimples and all, he got a girlfriend who was pretty as a dumptruck, and he got her pregnant last year. Got an abortion. That was a whole thing Steel ain’t gonna get into right now, cuzza the shit, the Supreme Court, girlies got sensitivites, you seen that Ketanji lady? She fine for a old lawyer bitch, Steel would put it to her, he would, put it to her good. No abortion after neither. Maybe a little one. Steel got qualms about abortion.
Malcolm got rules about cussing during church functions, and bitch was a straight-up violation. Straight up like a gay cup! Nigga too! Nigga, please! Steel don’t keep his tongue that clean mosta the time, cuz the Bible don’t say nothing about cussing, but he don’t argue about it. Church rules is church rules. In prison, Steel said fuck and bitch and stab that fuckin’ bitch, and in church, he scrub his tongue-wungy like he just ate out a ugly female. Gotta apartmentalize ya dickskin, nigga! Anyway, Rico got to flapping about his hardon and about Steel being an old fuddy-duddy who prolly don’t got a puckymoo that even work no more, and Steel wanna prove to him the error of his ways.
Steel ain’t reminiscing about liquor, y’all. His lips stay dry. When Steel get tonguey, he be praying, and Jesus always comes around in the end. To have faith in strength is strength enough, nigga, cuz reality is always weaker. Steel heard that in a sermon or a theology lecture on youtube or something and don’t feel like googling, you google it. Doesn’t matter.
But Rico and them, the kitkats, came to church cuz they committed aheada time and cuz Steel and Big John woulda tracked ’em down with fist-shape kisses if they ain’t show up or if they left partway through the night.
Rico and the other at-risk young adults came into Ebenezer Baptist one weekend for a lock-in. That’s where they hafta stay in the church all night, for sermons and shit. Reverend Cherrymore came by and preached a couple times. They did it tonight cuz there was rumors of a teen takeover — where they do burnouts and whatnot en masse in downtown Amarillo. Sure enough, the shit popped off around midnight, it popped off like popcorn, they ransacked a smoothie joint and crashed a Toyota into a Hyundai (which is exactly how the Kia was invented). Rico and them’all niggas woulda been there, most likely, skidding up sparks, broke some kid’s arm, got Mayor Transom fuming and booming, shit! But Rico and them, the kitkats, came to church cuz they committed aheada time and cuz Steel and Big John woulda tracked ’em down with fist-shape kisses if they ain’t show up or if they left partway through the night. Doors wasn’t actually locked, cuz that’d be illegal, fire code and such. It ain’t even possible to lock ’em from the outside.
But Steel’d beat the stuffing outta any nigga who try and join the street takeover. There’s a video on the internet where this whiteboy gets mowed down at one, shit’s crazy, Steel be bugging. The niggas ain’t do that when Steel was young. They just popped they collars and occasionally robbed a bodega.
Him and Big John did watch a lacrosse game a couple weeks back, when they was bored. It was free on the internet, which goes to show you how much money the lacrosse niggas thought there was in it (none, or they’d charge for it).
Him and Big John did watch a lacrosse game a couple weeks back, when they was bored. It was free on the internet, which goes to show you how much money the lacrosse niggas thought there was in it (none, or they’d charge for it).
Or possibly Steel pirated it. It was hard to tell sometimes. A nigga can be a pirate and not know it. Blackbeard thought he was just importing rum and exporting dead sailors.
Anyway again, he did it again, and then again, cuz Whiteness pressured him into doing it a third time. And then Steel knew he was in a bad place. That’s how they get ya, for every definition of “they” and “get” and “ya”. A nigga be purporting he can say no right up until the moment he flap his lips. By then the line is way in his rear-view mirror.
Anyway again, he did it again, and then again, cuz Whiteness pressured him into doing it a third time. And then Steel knew he was in a bad place. That’s how they get ya, for every definition of “they” and “get” and “ya”. A nigga be purporting he can say no right up until the moment he flap his lips. By then the line is way in his rear-view mirror.
