Break-ins, Soda Scams, Homicides, and Homoboys

My cheap ass car was broken into again (remember, last time someone left dirty, skanky, ho panties under the passenger seat). The crank addicts must have been frustrated that I had a detachable face stereo and no other valuables BECAUSE THEY DECIDED TO TAKE MAPS AND MY DMV REGISTRATION. Dumbfucks.

My favorite taqueria, just two blocks from my home, sports a SFPD poster that asks: "Did you witness a double homicide here on 1/26/05?".

Joe, my closest mini-mart owner, has sneakily raised the price of a 20 oz Diet Coke to $1.50. This is 10 - 15% greater than any mini-mart in a three block radius.

It took me forty minutes to find parking tonight in the pouring rain. The street gutters are so full of the homeless people's shanty town debris that the puddles forming at the bottom of Guerrero nearly swallowed my sedan. I ended up parking on K-2.

There's a poster, nay, A SERIES OF DUPLICATE posters, a block and a half from my apartment. They feature a good looking, youngish, muscular black man. His shirt is off. His jeans are saggin', showing off those six pack abs and Tommy boxers. There's some bling around his neck. The bling says Homoboy. Under the young black man, in script resembling graffiti it says "Don't be a bitch! Wear a condom."



Homoboy ad.