Well not really, but I was listening to "Nuthin But a G Thang" on the way to work, and it is definitely stuck in my head. I shouldn't listen to that stuff on the way to work, but I was havin a West Coast moment. Even when it rains, I love being from Cali. Thats real. I dont care what any other state, coast, country, continent or region claims to have... I love the West Coast. I cant see being anywhere else on a permanent basis. I'll visit y'all, but you can keep your weather extremes. I'll stay right here, thank you very much.
I Love Cali Men.
I'm not complaining today. I would much rather discuss what I love about California besides the weather. The MEN. Oh yeah. I especially love my hoodstas and my brothas in the Bay Area.
I dont like the Bay personally, because its too cold, and there are too many steep hills. Theres no way you could get me to drive there in a stick, believe that. But I love the brothas there. There is a certain realness about them that Southern Cali brothas dont have (or if they have it they hide it). Bay brothas aint scared to tell you you're beautiful. Not "fine", "sexy", or whatever bootsy alternative brothas use to get out of paying a real compliment. Them niggas in the Bay say "beautiful". Even though they'll ask you if you feel them like 30 times in one sentence, you know they mean what they say. They got a different way of talking too, than my hood folks from Compton, Watts, and South Central.
My brothas from Compton, Watts, and South Central are my Thug Kings. I know I'm supposed to like the upstanding, bald, sophisticated brothas in Marina del Rey, Santa Monica, or some crap ass bouregois hangout like that, but man. You cant beat a pair of blue chuck tayors... dont let nobody tell you different. If you got a white t-shirt under a black, blue or red one, with the colored one just a tiny bit shorter than the white one, I hate to admit it, but Imma look twice at you. I'm not gonna say nothing though, because I already know thug relationships leave me very emotionally injured (to say the least... y'all carry more baggage than a cargo jet), but I will definitely look. I guess thats part of being born and raised in the CPT. DJ QUIK was the finest thing to me in his banged out Compton jacket and creased up khakis. I love the way they draw out their words, and tilt their heads when they talk (it probably has something to do with their being high as hell and trying to keep their balance, but oh well). I try to come out of it, but there is something about the way they say "Excuse me Miss Lady..." that makes me want to pass the hell out in their presence.
I do like the sophisticated, educated brothas too. But they like light skinned, bougie girls. Okay, thats a gross generalization. And that was mean. But I dont take it back, because thats the mess I encounter from the "upper crust" brothas that today has to offer. I'm educated to a damn fault, no one even knows what I do... because I'm out of the general scope of a Lib Arts, Dance, or Business Degree. But for some reason these brothas, the ones in the Black Greek Community especially, feel the need to let me know how not-good-enough I am. I'm too real for they ass, thats the problem. Yeah, I can talk as proper as the next chick that went to LMU. I can go and waste hella money on Prada clothes and a weave, and try to forget where I live. But why? I'm still Misty from Central and 135th. So you can keep them "un-brothas"... give me my real men any day. Y'all are the reason I arch my eyebrows, for real.