What it is, jive-turkeys! This is FROSCHACH comin' atcha wif fifteen minutes of funk sans tha junk. Why fifteen minutes? Cuz anymore 'n Tha Man would call it "Welfare", dig?
Gotsta say, Li'l Rock, all ya'll gone crazy up in here, I'm tellin' ya! Heard tha news off tha street: some honkey callin' hisself Doctor "Tha Man" Hattan done gone outta his god damned mind down in Asian Town, yesterday. Just went from laundromat ta laundromat, blowin' them suckaz up wif a point of his finger!
If he was pullin' this trash over in 'Lanta, it wouldn't be no thang, but this is Tha Rock, son! This is FROSCHACH's hood! Had ta step on up ta dat big blue cracka 'n set hiz ass straight! I was all, "What's yo damage, Clyde? You gots a prob you take it to da Hill! Don'tchu be comin' round mah crib wif yo li'l blue dick all hangin' out, bustin' up mah homeez wif yo magic finger!"
Then Hattan juzt be starin' at me, like he done got hiz junk caught in some nu-ku-lah accelerator. Says ta FROSCHACH, "Please do not interfere, sir. I am performing a public service."
All I had ta say ta dat was "Hey-ell NAW!" Honkey tryin' ta say dat bustin' up mah homeez iz a "public service"? FROSCHACH ain't havin' dat, foo'. Cracka be trippin', all there'z to it. Stared at me foh 'bout ten secondz then turned hiz flabby blue azz backward 'n got tha hell outta mah hood.
Hattan may be blue, but FROSCHACH is BLACK. Sheeeeeeeeeee-it.
So then I go back ta mah Caddy 'n what happenz? Some honkey be tryin' ta tow mah baby! Sucka'z truck says "Adrian White's Towing Service". Yeah, leave it ta Whitey ta pick tha Black Man's ride outta tha whole mutha luvin' lot.
So I strut on up ta dat damn foo' in hiz purple jumpsuit 'n golden tiara 'n give dat mofo a piece uv mah mind. Cracka sayz if I didn't wanna get towed then I "should have put another nickel in the meter thirty-five minutes ago".
Foo' be crazy. Who he think he iz, tellin' FROSCHACH where ta park 'n when ta pay? These streets belong ta FROSCHACH!
So what's dat cracka do?
Vertically leaps seventeen feet in tha air, kick me nine times in tha face then stab mah hand wif a fork! Where the hell he get a fork? Then honkey just drive off wif mah Caddy.
Some racist junk right there, dig?
But it ain't no thang. I'll deal wif his cracka ass later. Not like dat jive-turkey can be catchin' bullets, right?
Aw day-umn. Pencil-neck li'l honkey in a suit be stickin' his head into tha studio. Ya'll know what dat meanz: "FROSCHACH's Fifteen Minutes of Funk" be up. Check it, I'll be back next week; same time, same station. Try not ta let Tha Man getcha til then.
Peace out, foos.
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LOLSCHACH's Journal: April 18, 2009
Not entirely sure how FROSCHACH could possibly be related to myself. Found cassette tape recording of broadcast lying under bookshelf in basement of library. Have checked public records at WKKK circa 1972. No documentation of a "FROSCHACH's Fifteen Minutes of Funk" program ever existing. Quite possible this was demo tape. Very, very unorthodox demo tape.
Either way, it must be destroyed to preserve family heritage. No one must know of black sheep in LOLSCHACH family tree.
surprisingly, I understood this entry. hahahh!
ReplyDeleteIt's fun to read it out loud. No joke.
ReplyDelete