I first saw this shit on Jemele Hill's Facebook page a few days ago. She is amazingly good at providing the masses with high-quality examples of niggerishness. Homegirl must spend an unhealthy amount of time on those "urban media" sites.
I severely doubt this is "Da First Eva" Coon-O-Ween celebration. I can imagine this is in fact a time-honored tradition, particulary in the Southern United States.
I'm just amazed Tity Boi is not the headliner.
I'm not amazed that "Aquib [sic] Talib" is a special [invited?] guest. This is totally his scene.
[Blogger's Note: Seriously. The nigga might as well go. He ain't got a football career to worry about or anything like that.]
Oh, shit! Kid Brick is gonna be playing?! Fuck. Which Kid Brick? Regular Kid Brick or Famous Kid Brick? Oh, word? Myyyyyy nigga Famous! Sheeeeeeeit. If I were in the Tampa area and not actively being lynched at the time, I'd most definitely be up in that motherfucker. No question.
If it has not already earned your attention and confusion, I would like you to be mindful of the fact that these niggas have an actual coon at the top left corner of the flyer. This is the epitome of dead-ass seriousness. They just leapt over Soulja Boy's shoutout to the slave masters in dead-assness.
I love how this assemby of willing porch monkeys is an orange and black affair, but it has to be noted that costumes are permitted, as if niggas would be wearing orange and black together under normal, non-Halloween circumstances. Last I checked, this shit was not located in Kingston, Jamaica.
Listen, I would never advocate violence or suggest people be harmed, even such wastes of carbon, oxygen, hydrogen and cocoa butter lotion as these. Like Black Jesus once said, "That which you do for the least of my niggas 'n nem, you have done for me." But I wouldn't exactly shed a tear if maybe the doors somehow found themselves chained closed--a la Joe Clark--once all of the attendees had arrived, giving way to an inescapable situation once a bolt of lightning struck a nearby tree and caused a brush fire whose smoke seeped under the doors, activating the sprinkler system whose water then electrocuted everyone, as they would all naturally be using their Boost Mobile chirp phones loudly and at once.
Okay, maybe I've pondered dozens of Final Destination-like scenarios in anticipation of tomorrow's fuckery fest. I only deem them appropriate, as everyone in attendance has been living on borrowed time after escaping stillbirth from their crack-addicted mothers. This is the only explanation I've got.
[Return to Ron Mexico City]