Humble Pie: Stop crossing the thin line between confident and cocky

Confidence is a sexy quality. Cocky not so much. Way to often people are getting this confused. No matter how attractive you are a shitty attitude can ruin that. The art of being humble has been lost and replace with a strange arrogance. The more I'm out in the streets the more I come across these chicks that think they're the shit. I like to call them Candy Girls, because like candy they're treat but that have no substance and too much of them will make you sick. There has to be more to you than what meets the eye if not, you should work on that. Sadly these cocky chicks refuse to face the reality that skin wrinkles and gravity will start pulling and stretching on those qualities that you seem think make you the shit. Women should always strive to be confident but dont let attention go to your head because a lot of times the person giving the attention is only trying to get between your legs. If you feel beautiful thats great but work on your inside as well as your outside. No matter how great the shell is decorated  no one wants the egg if the yoke is rotten. Holla.

Hutch

Booze and Contract Babies

When alcohol and young men get together the chance of great ideas and bad ideas run neck and neck. Contract babies was probably the worst idea I've ever heard. So the idea of a contract baby is that you take a man and woman with great physical attributes and mate them to produce a super athlete. Now this idea wasn't created by a great geneticist it was created by 2 drunk fools and Corona. While watching Sunday Night football with D and Black and talking about children (odd combination) they came up with the idea that I should have a baby. I wasnt for this idea at all but they were determined to convince me that given my size and how I carry and put on weight that If I had a baby there was a 50/50 chance that the baby could be a pretty good athlete. I countered with what if the baby was just short and fat. They countered with finding a tall female athlete to breed me with and the idea of the contract baby was born. These fools were excited at the thought of mashing my genetic with some volleyball player to produce some sort of a freak athlete I was convinced that this was a dumb idea and not worhty of discussion as I wouldnt want to be stuck with a baby with someone who I didnt want anything to do with. This is when D had his moment of brilliance, a contract. Contract marriages are common in the Marine Corps as it give 2 young dumb Marines the opportunity to reap what they think are the benefits of being married. Applying that same dumb logic to a child in order to reap the benefits of a spawning a successful athlete had these assholes salivating at the mouth. I couldn't believe this madness so I asked Z what she thought. Just as I suspected she thought we all drank too much and were dumb as hell, I concurred but thought I should get more input. So I texted around and females hated the idea more than me, the guys thought this was awesome. Needless to say I refuse to ever gamble with my sperm in an attempt to create anything other than a baby I want to love with a woman i want to be with. Holla

Hutch

why are you tagged in that pic

So every time I log on Facebook I have all these updates saying my friends have been tagged in pictures of shoes or some chicks tits. What is the deal with this shit? Seriously the first person who tags men in a picture of shoes that aren't mine or that aren't being delivered to my house, I'm going to track you down and punch you in the throat. I can understand a picture of your shoes but a random picture of a random shoe, I don't understand. If you find a shoe that I lost or you took one of my shoes for ransom feel free to tag away but this madness must end. By the way are women selling vagina on Facebook because I'm seeing an awful lot of half naked women tagging tons of people in pictures. I can understand tagging people as a marketing strategy, if I see someone tagged in a picture of a bar with a big ass beer, I'm thinking where's that bar because I want a big ass beer. So when I see people tagged in pictures of scantly clad women my thought process is the same. Is she selling those tits and ass because I'm pretty sure that illegal, she can barter in exchange for goods and services but cash transactions for ass and tits is still illegal I'm sure. I'm pretty sure Mark Zuckerberg wasn't trying to come up with the best way to bombard people with shoe and tit pics when he created Facebook. Holla

Hutch

Fashion help has arrived

So I dont consider myself to be a fashion expert. I'm a heavy fan of Nike's shoes and hoodies. But I can clean up nicely. But for those you who cant, you need to check out this blog. http://fashioncrackheads.blogspot.com/ My girls are over here putting it down on everything fashion. If you are wondering if your wardrobe isn't up to par then you need to check it out. They are showing how to get the looks you want at the price you can afford. Hell I might let them hook me up on a outfit are two. Much love ladies keep up the good work and if ya'll catch me on the street looking busted gone head and check a brother. Holla

Hutch

Stand Up Guy of the Week: Diego Arredondo

So once a week I will write about someone who's inspired me in some way. This week I'm writing about my boy Diego Arredondo aka D aka Dondo. Now I met D through his wife Z when I was working down in NC. Z, Nick, Mel, Sprizatt, and myself all worked together and like any group of people who works together you become friends. Z was always talking about this guy she was dating and how we would like him. I was skeptical because I don't like anyone, but we told her to bring him over and we'd check him out. He came by my office one day and the kid was was laid back and funny. He was laughing at my jokes so instantly he was a winner in my book because my ego leads me to liking anyone who thinks I'm funny. As we hung out more I got to know D and we developed a bond. He was like 21 or 22 at the time had deployed to Iraq at least once and had lost a friend so we had somethings in common. We would spend Sundays together watching football, eating, drinking, and playing scrabble or video games. He became a younger brother to me. The kid embodied all things I felt were important. When he told me Z was pregnant and I wasn't shocked but I could tell he was a little nervous. He started talking about getting married and all the responsibility he was about to take on. But the kid stepped up big and put himself in the position to be a father to his child and Z's little girls. He manned the fuck up. He treats those little girls like they were his own and that to me is the biggest thing any man can do. To watch the way he developed over our friendship from the kid who just wanted to drink and buy shoes to really holding down the fort and taking care of his kids was awesome to me. When he moved up to VA we lived together while he was waiting for his family to come up. When shit the fan for me on several occasions he was a phone call away or on the way to help me put shit back together. I've met plenty of people in the Marine Corps but this kid is one of those people who you thank god for putting into your life because he brings something you cant find in most people. He's a friend, I know I can take into any situation and he has my back, unless there's clowns involved because dude turns bitch at the sight of a clown. If you want to know what it takes to be a man and great father and better friend sit down and have a conversation with Diego Arredondo. Loyalty, Respect, and Honor this kid has enough to pass some out. You sir are My Stand Up Guy of the Week. Holla

Hutch

Where are the rest of the black people, the art of being the Token Black Guy

This just doesnt apply to just Black Guys, If you've ever walked into a room and thought, hey am I in the wrong place it's a good chance you're the token. Now being the token isn't a bad thing but as the token you have a responsibility to your race to represent. First you have to understand the probability that you are going to be a token in a situation. I was once invited to an ugly sweater party. Now being 29 and black I've never heard of any of my black friends throwing a ugly sweater party so my token potential went through the roof. I had two options go alone or bring another black person with me. I choose the latter. No one wants to be alone surrounded by white people in ugly sweaters. The party was a disaster but there is always comfort in seeing someone else as uncomfortable as you. Being the token should be embraced, maybe they were just trying to fill a quota but they filled it with you and thats fucking awesome. When you're the token you have to adapt to the situation, automatically assumptions are going to be made about your behavior. People want to know if stereo types are true. Is the Token Black Guy going to eat the fried chicken? I happen to like fried chicken so yes I going to crush that shit. Make sure not to avoid things that may seem stereotypical if those are things that you like or do. You'll seem strange staring at the fried chicken but not eating any out of fear of being that guy. But the most important thing with being the token is being yourself. You have to remember that invited you to this event so have a good time. I've been the token at numerous events, from parties to weddings to nature adventures and the token always stands out, because its easy to remember the only black guy there. Holla

Hutch

Keeping her off the pole

I'm not a parent, I don't have kids. I'm not sure if I will ever have any. But if I ever have a daughter I will live my life with one goal in mind and that's to keep my daughter off the pole. Now we cant control all the choices our children make but we can control how they develop their decision making skills. I have nothing against strippers I've known some nice strippers in my day. But I've known people who cleaned crime scenes also and I wouldn't want my daughter doing that either. The point I'm making isn't about stripping really. It's about allowing our daughters to believe that at some point using your body to make money is an acceptable alternative to working hard for it. Stripping is probably a hard jobs or at least has hard parts to it. But there is always more options. Once you compromise any part your character your who character is susceptible to compromise. What if the stripping tips arent enough then what. If marijuana is a gate way drug to hard drugs. Stripping is a gateway job to prostitution or pornography. Either way parents should be teaching thier kids that the value of self respect out weighs the value of a dollar especially if that dollar is shoved in her ass crack. Holla

Hutch

It takes a village

I'm sitting outside chatting up the Whistle Gang over some bomb pops I purchased them, as head back to into my house my neighbor asked to talk to me. So my neighbor is a cool dude laid back guy from Florida, late 30's and he's white. He starts asking me why I talk and play with the Whistle Gang and buy them bomb pops and things like that. I told him I feel like its my responsibility. He says they aren't my kids why do I care what they're doing.  Which bring me to my point you as an adult are responsible for every child you come into contact with. Not for health or financially but you are responsible with providing a example for them to emulate. Kids are observant and what they see they mimic. If you no one takes interest in what they're doing, who's going to put them on the right path. Now I know most of these kids parents and they all seem like good people. They all take care of their kids and with exception of giving them whistles i have no complaints. But if you have an opportunity to make a difference in a child's life you have the responsibility to make that difference. The person who made a big difference in my life was a drug dealer named Prince. What he did for me is the same thing I do for them. I talk to them and listen to them. Prince taught me that the street life wasn't a real life, he told me to stay my ass in school and do something with myself. He took the glamor away from it and showed me what it really was. These kids are still young but hopefully they remember the conversations we have and find those lessons about respecting each other and honesty and they use them when they get older. If it all works out I wont have to worry about the Whistle Gang breaking into my house or any other house. RIP Prince Holla

Hutch

You can Pray on it, I'm gonna be prepared to handle it

Countless times I've heard the saying "you just need to pray on it". Whenever I hear it, it sounds a lot like don't do anything and hope something good happens. Now I understand that there are things you cant control, like illness and weather and things like that but even during those times sitting around an "praying on it" seems like a failed strategy. Being prepared for things you cant control is better than leaving things up to chance. I'm no atheist, I definitely believe there is a God and he's running the show. But I also think God has a strictly hands off policy when it comes to interfering. Often times there are things that could have been done prior to that event. You lost your job "pray on it" or you could have been saving money to hold you over until you could find a new one. People don't expect bad things to happen to them which is why when they do happen it hits so damn hard. I don't think prayer is a bad thing but how many times have you had someone come up to begging on the street and you've thought to yourself "get job. I work hard for what I have" or "I don't have time for this", in your head you begin to question why they are where they are and what could they have done to prevent their current situation. You may still give them something and that's great, but why weren't they prepared for whatever happened to them. Well they're praying for you to fix their situation like so many of us pray to god to fix our own. How about we stop asking God for those good handouts and we better prepare ourselves for the good or the bad the bad that may come. Holla

Hutch

My first boobie bar

So being 18 years old and in 29 Palms, CA isn't nearly as awesome as it sounds. There is absolutely nothing to do in the middle of nowhere in the desert. Marines always find ways to enjoy themselves our favorite thing to do was head to Palm Springs, CA home of old people and golf. We would get a room at the Historic Oasis and try to figure out how to entertain ourselves. More often than not we talked about how many chicks we were going to pick up without ever actually finding any and getting drunk in our room playing video games but at least we weren't in the barracks. So there I was with Hank (my roommate his name isn't actually hank but we called him that because he looked like the cartoon character Hank Hill from King of the Hill) and the rest of the usual suspect. Chung (his actual name) decided we should got see titchs. It took us awhile to figure out what he was saying through his heavy drunken accent but it was tits. Seeing tits is a good idea at any age, but at 18 it was the best idea ever. Seeing as how most had never been to a strip club we became excited about this new adventure. We called up a cab company and told the guy to takes us to the titty bar. As can be expected with a cab full of drunk kids he droves around the city and dropped us off at a bar we couldn't get into. After some talking to the bouncer he direct us to Pope's. Now Pope's isn't your traditional strip club. It's more than that Pope's is where a young man goes to conquer the fear of the unknown. The location of Popes is down right scary. It sat in the middle of an alley that the cab driver refused to drive down. The bouncer looked like he was fresh out of prison and probably lacked the proper self control required to not beat a man to death. Pope's was a full nude juice bar and you were required to by two drink plus your cover. So $40.00 dollars each later we were set and ready for action. Now being fresh out of high school you have yet to experience what the joys of motherhood does to a woman's body. Even the girls I knew with kids bounced back pretty well. But at Pope's these were no girls these were women. Women with bills and kids in high school. These were women with drug and alcohol addictions. The first one on stage to the life out of the party. She was a older lady early to mid 40's and when her clothes came off. The shy awkward anxiousness of boys turned into pain and discomfort. As we watch this older lady undress the feeling of shame sank over me. These were not boobies or titties. These were breast from which someone probably older than us had once suckled to get sustenance. There was nothing sexy about this at all. I like watching an accident I couldn't turn away. It was completely fucking horrible at the tender age of 18 i had only heard about what pregnancy does to a body but seeing the loose skin and stretch marks were enough. This place needed to serve alcohol it had to, no one was sitting through this shit sober. I quickly got up and went to the pool area to shoot pool. This is also where you were enticed into buying a private dance. The chicks in this room looked like every chick I've seen on MTV's True Life - my life is shit because of pick your poison. So trying to be respectfully as possible we declined dance after dance. Then the situation turned unfriendly when one dancer (using the term loosely) was frustrated with our over interest in pool and lack of interest in hideous bodies. At this age I wasn't as much of a firecracker as I am now and something about a chick insulting with her tits swinging and and her gut flipping over the top of her thongs is a little intimidating. So we decided to leave. Some of us got lap dances while others of us didn't but we all left a little pride in Popes and came out with a better sense of reality. Holla

Hutch

What makes a good Man

You want to be man its fucking simple. Live your life based on some set of principles. Mine are  loyalty, respect, honesty, and responsibility. Loyalty is simple i look at is as being faithful to the people who faithful to you. If you have no loyalty you have nothing because everything about is open to compromise. Loyalty is built on experiences with people who you've struggled and persevered with. People who helped you when they didnt have to or didnt want to you owe them loyalty. Respect for yourself and those around. It's simple treat people how you would want to be treated. Everyone deserves respect but you cant respect anyone without respecting yourself first. You have to be honest. People cant respect you if you're dishonest and without respect there is no loyalty. Truth will hurt sometimes but the truth is always better than good feelings based on lies. What's hidden in the dark will eventually come to light. Most importantly a man has to have a sense of responsibility. As a man you have be willing to put the needs of the people who depend on you before your wants. Men now days are really quick to look for the easiest path. You pay your child support but you don't see your kids that's not responsibility, you're easing the financial burden of raising a child but you arent participating in the raising of that child and that sir is your responsibility. You say you  love your girl but you creeping around that's not love and there is no loyalty in that. How can you expect a woman to respect you when she cant trust you. How can a woman love you when you're disloyal. Fellas this shit is simple a true woman will give you everything you've ever wanted as long as she believes in you, trust you, and loves you. But she needs all three and you need to be working hard to show her you deserve that shit. Holla

Hutch

what makes a good woman

I ask for topics people would like to get my opinions on and women was one people wanted so here you go.

Ladies I love ya'll, seriously after bacon ya'll the best thing god put on this planet. But ya'll fucking up right now. I hate listening to women complain about what their man isnt or doesnt do, when they dont do what they should. A lot of women dont carry themselves like a woman should anymore. You want men to respect you but you dont respect yourself. A Boy is going to treat you how you let him, a Man will treat how you deserved to be treated. Respect is the first thing, i'm a firm believer men and women have thier places and no im not talking about the couch and the kitchen or anything like that. Too often I see women arguing with men and vice versa and these conversation are way to disrespectful. If you're a woman and you speak down to a man as if he's nothing why would he respect you. Even if he isnt your man, what man would want a woman who carries herself that way. Women you need to look past what a man has, to what that man is. I know a lot of women who look at the car a man drives and base that on whether or not he meets her criteria. I know a lot of boys with nice cars who have bad credit. I was raised by single women who stressed the importance of what they felt a man should be and I think personally I fit that mold. But not having a lot of positive male role models I had to figure out for myself what a good woman should be. So I made a list, a good woman is going to be smart and supportive, she's going to have her a opinions but she understands the importance of a unified front. She'll understand that a man needs to feel like a man and will never take that away from him. She's honest and she'll accept honesty in return. She's driven and determined. She's trusting and trustworthy. She's nurturing and gentle. She'll be respectful and carry herself with a sense of grace. She's her man's best friend and loyal. Ladies these are some of the qualities you should be trying to embody because if you master that list the men you will attract will be far superior to the boys you fucking with now. Holla

Hutch

All Hands, Mandatory fun, and this guy is going to need stitches

So as many you may know I make my pay by serving America. What you may not know is that all over the US Marine Corps there is a tradition we Marines like to call mandatory fun. Mandatory fun is when someone in charge of you, most of the time they hate their lives outside of work, forces everyone they out rank into doing something that will no doubt bleed over into their personal time. Sometimes its done to build morale, unit cohesion and a sense of brotherhood but really that could be accomplished if people stopped being dicks to lower ranking people.  Anyways instead of rambling about how to improve the Marine Corps I'm just going to tell a little story about when all hands mandatory fun goes wrong.


So while I was stationed in KC there were plenty of times where we had mandatory events. Normally it was some type of family day that was more for the benefit of the civilians in the command than the actual Marines. Now this one event in particular stands out because everyone with two eyes and common sense could see that this was a fucking disaster waiting to happen. So in the tradition of the Marine Corps I was voluntold to be on a working party. Why we call them working parties I have yet to figure out, there isn't a fucking thing fun about them. But my working party consisted of setting up the pavilion the night before this family day and sleeping outside in a fucking bouncy room over night so that the big wigs could sleep easy knowing that everything was ready to go for family day. This wasn't a bad deal as my senior enlisted adviser did right by us and brought us a pony keg, a case of beer, and some meat to grill while we were out there. Now in most circumstances the Marine Corps frowns upon alcohol consumption during these types of event but this unit was run by a civilian we will call Mr. Perspiration. So what Mr. Perspiration wants he gets and this my friend means a bunch of kegs of beer. So as the event started the next morning we made a beer run and started drinking and grilling and having a good ole time and everything was grand. But as the day went on and the beer was consumed I started to realize people were way to drunk, and getting way to comfortable at this "work" event. So as we moved through the events of the day a 3 legged race, some egg toss, and other fucking games i hated to be forced to play. We got to the final event around mid afternoon. RAGE IN THE FUCKING CAGE, envision a 6 foot high dog pen filled with the supervisors you love to hate and you get to purchase a bag of water balloons to throw at them. Fucking sweet, even better the local fire station was there letting kids look at a fire truck and volunteered to get some hose action going. Now we have drunk people, men and women a like, multiple kegs of beer, giant troughs filled with ice, water, soda and beers, and fire truck spraying fucking water. Once the rage was over the drunken supervisors though it would be a good idea to start dunking the more attractive women, I use the term attractive loosely here, into these giant troughs. So now I have middle aged men dunking early to late 20 somethings into giant tubs of ice water. Yep as bad as it sounds. Nipples were popping out all over the place. So seeing the madness and understanding how bad this shit would more than likely get a very large majority of Marines fucking broke camp and got the fuck out there. I get home and get into a very decent drunk nap when I get call from either Hop or El Jefe saying "hey we coming to get you shit is getting out of hand over here". So when they pick me up they inform me that one of my Marines and very large kid we called Big Mo was very pissed over the way Mr. Perspiration had touched his wife. Upon returning to the pavilion we see Big Mo walking down the hill towards the pavilion where the last of the party goers are loading up things. I see Big Mo's wife trying to grab him and instantly we know this is bad. As Big Mo gets down to the pavilion El Jefe tries to stop him. Big Mo is like 6'1 or so 240ish and El Jefe is like 5'6 170ish. But the outcome wasn't what I thought it would be, instead of barreling through El Jefe, Big Mo hit him with a Reggie White swim move with a spin, I was impressed by the big mans agility. He then sprinted around the truck that everyone was loading things into, scoop Mr. P up like a baby and tossed him on his fucking head. Now the speed which this all happens was incredible we managed to grab Big Mo before he went all UFCHolla

Hutch

Road Trip, Massachuetts Massacre, Bachelor Party

So there are defining moments in every man's life this is one of mine. It all started when the Chubby Kid went Christmas shopping alone. Upon his return i was informed that he bought an engagement ring and planned to propose to his girlfriend back home in New Hampshire. To be completely honest I didn't know exactly what to make of it but if it made him happy I'm good with it. Fast forward 6 months and that's where this adventure begins. The Chubby Kid is one of my best friends so when he asked me to be the Best Man and Token Black Guy at his wedding I couldn't turn it down. Now initially there were supposed to be some other friends taking this pilgrimage to the north east with us but they flaked out and after his wife left him while we spent a week in the field Cooter got dragged along for the trip. One because it was good to have him back in the fold as his wife was a controlling succubus and had wedged herself between him and all his friends and two because he was planning to go hang out with some nerds he met playing online games with in Kentucky or some fucking where like that before he got the invited. The plan was simple leave in the middle of the night drive to St. Louis and get a rental that my uncle locked on for us and then shoot up north to party it up and get the Chubbs hitched. Evidently god didn't like the plan so he decided to make it rain like crazy that night. Cooter drove the first leg to St. Louis which fucking sucked because anyone who knows me knows I'm a cranky bitch when I don't get sleep. The fact that I was so cranky about being stuffed in the back of his POS Thunderbird made him and Chubbs the happiest bitches on the planet. There were several points where I closed my eyes sure that I was going to die. The fact that the rain was so heavy you couldn't see the lanes on the road and Cooter drives like a maniac really raised the odds. At one point I dozed off and woke up with the whole road glowing from the early sunlight and wet conditions. I was convinced that we died and actually were on our way to be turned away from heaven. But we managed to make it to St. Louis in one piece and grabbed the rental and were well on our way to NH. At some point we stopped in Ohio and ate at fucking Bob Evans which gave everyone the shits except Cooter because he has a iron stomach which lead to repeated restroom stops in NY and CT. we managed to make to New Hampshire in a our rented Buick Century, yeah we were those guys in the granny car. Cooter slept the the last 8 hours in the backseat only to wake and ask us why we weren't there yet, which clearly was pissing Chubbs and myself off. Once we got into NH Chubbs parents had hooked up two hotel rooms for us. Now remind you how cranky i am without sleep this was 20+ hours in a car later and the chick tells us we cant check into our rooms for another 2 hours. As I began to run down the list of derogatory names I know for women Chubbs stepped in to explain the situation and convinced the nice young lady to let us check in early. Once we got out rooms Chubbs went and met up with the future Ms. Chubbs to do a little pre-wedding fornication while Cooter decided to explore our hotel accommodations. I fucking got some much needed sleep. The days leading up to the actual event are pretty hazy as we drank like the key to curing cancer would come through alcohol consumption. But I do remember a flour fight and one very awkward conversation with Chubb's cousin about her future occupation as dancer (not ballet and shit). All in all good times. Prior to the wedding we had to get haircuts and to say waiting was a mistake would be a huge fucking understatement. Chubb's called one of his buddies and asked where black people got their haircuts  and off we were to HaverHill ,MA. To say this place was a shit hole would be insulting shit holes everywhere. As we find a barber shop and proceed to getting haircuts we broke the cardinal rule to getting a haircut. NEVER GET YOUR HAIRCUT BY SOMEONE WHO'S HAIR LOOKS LIKE SHIT. This place was full of Dread Head barbers it felt like we were at reggae concert. These guys proceeded to fuck up each and everyone of our heads like making us look bad was their job. We got back into the car with a small piece of our collective soul left on the floor of that barber shop. That day lives on in all our minds as the Massachusetts Massacre. Anyways, there was a rehearsal dinner that consisted of me and Cooter trying to drink as much Jagr as possible and shit then got interesting. It started when the stretch Navigator limo pulled up to take us out for the bachelor party. By the time Limo Dave got there I was  fucking shitfaced no other way to describe it, the fact that I remember the bit pieces I do is fucking amazing to me. My memory goes as follow

1. Piled into the Limo with Chubbs, Cooter Amanda, and the other white people.
2. Went into a strip club insulted a strippers intelligence and dancing ability.
3. White guy next to me definitely with us, slaps stripper on the ass, and not in a playful affectionate way.
4. Team Bachelor party and Strip Club security have stand off in the parking lot.
5. Limo Dave got us all back in the Limo and on to the next strip club.
6. Drinking jack and dew in the limo on the way back from strip club the sequel
7.I need to puke.
8. Puke inside the Limo Dave's brand new limo
9. Limo Dave is fucking pissed!!!
10. Limo Dave tries to extort us over the puke in the limo.
11. Limo Dave is threatened with a viscous beating over his extortion attempt.
12. Limo Dave backs off his demand for more money.

The rest of the night is pretty much a blur I just remember waking up with the worst hangover that I've ever had and refusing to move off of Chubb's Mom's couch until it was wedding time. Now the wedding was actually pretty interesting and so was the post wedding party but I have to get clearance before I write about that. But here are some highlights, a fight, a broken window, the emergence of Bloody Billy, Cooter in a dress and Mudd Butt. Holla

Hutch

The Whistle Gang

So I've been asked why I call the Kids that hang out around my house the Whistle Gang. Well it all started one Saturday when I was minding my business trying to relax. I hear this whistling coming from outside. Not really sure what it was I decided to investigate as it was disturbing me from my doing nothing. I look out and I see BAHLAB aka Big Ass Head Little Ass Body sitting on the curb blowing a whistle. Now to some people this would be a cute thing to see. The kid is around 4 years old and 2.5 feet tall. To me this is fucking horrible, this kid is sitting out in front of my house with a blowing a fucking whistle. I tried to ignore it but the whistle got louder and varied. I take a look out side and now there were more kids out there. I see Lil Mama, Baby Joker and more of the usual suspects but they all have whistles. I'm thinking to myself this has to be some sort of sick joke. Why the fuck do all these kids have whistles? It was like an all whistle orchestra going on that turned into a full scale Westside Story whistle fight. They were blowing them in each others faces and just being regular little assholes with the things. So as any enterprising adult would do I decided to trick them out of their whistles. I heard the Ice Cream truck making his way around and I figured I could easily spend 20 bucks and save myself a evening of annoyance by trading bomb pops for whistles. So I come out round them up approach them with what I thought was a fair deal. They kindly accepted so I bought each one a bomb pop as they handed over the whistle. As I walked back into my house I took one look back and thought to myself now there is a happy bunch of whistle less heathens. But little did I know there was trickery afoot. No less than 10 minutes after my purchase I hear a familiar sound ringing through my window. I thought to myself that cant be a fucking a whistle. But how wrong I was these little fuck had eaten the bomb pops and went grabbed their whistle stash. So then I was out of 20 bucks and the Whistle Gang was official born. These kids are a fucking riot. Holla

Hutch

Yo Mama

So I step outside to take in some of this nice VA weather and I hear a ruckus. Several of the Whistle Gang are congregating and having a typical conversation. Now the age range of these gang members runs anywhere from 4 -11 or so. I try not to listen to their conversations as I don't like getting dragged into them, plus a grown man arguing with kids looks a bit ridiculous. But what I heard brought a smile to my face. Lil Mama (has to be 5 going on 27): yo head is so big. They all laugh as this is a very true statement BAHLAB aka Big Ass Head Little Ass Body: what you say (said with the look of a gangster at least 8 years old, he happens to be only 4) Lil Mama: I said yo head is so big (with a neck roll for emphasis) BAHLAB: (cracking a slick little Indian grin): YO MAMA. Wow that just happen, the ultimate reply to any insult. Said without a ounce of hesitation and a slight 4 year old Indian accent. I was so amused by the exchange I nearly got ran over in the chase that followed. It made me think "yo mama" is clearly the most dangerous statement you can make. The amount of anger that it can generate is simply amazing. I'm sure people have been literally removed from earth by the slight whisper of "yo mama" in the wrong direction. Is that we love our mothers so much that the thought of the insult that we just hurled being directed at our own mother would bring out primal rage? Or is it more of the fact that there isn't really a clever enough response to "yo mama" that things must now proceed to a physical altercation? Either way be careful when talking about people mothers. There's a four year old walking around out of breath with a bloody nose who just learned that the hard way. Holla

Hutch 

I'm a Fucking Role Model

So over the past couple of weeks my interaction with the Whistle Gang has picked up a quite a bit. I've become some form of a role model. Yep I just wrote that shit. Anyone who really knows me knows that kids think im the shit. Its a simple concept that I've come to understand and appreciate, kids will look up to people who treat them like people. I speak to them as small adults and they dig it. I've learned a lot from these small hoodlums. Shit one day I might just have a little Whistle Gang Member of my own. So if you come across a kid with a witty mouth and respectful demeanor it just might be mine. Holla

Hutch

What up

So I decide to start my blog for 1 very simple reason. My opinion matters to me. I will cover all topics that interest me, piss me off, or provide me with some form of amusement. If you're a Facebook friend of mine then you know I'm filter free which basically means I'm going to was whatever i want with out editing. Hopefully people enjoy what i have to say if not I don't really give a fuck. Holla at ya boy

Hutch