Now, this is a story all about how
My life got "flipped-turned upside down"
And I'd like to take a minute
Just sit right there
I'll tell you how I "became the Prince" of a town called Bel-Air:
In West Philadelphia born and raised
On the playground was where I spent most of my days
"Chillin' out maxin' relaxin' all cool"
And all shootin' some b-ball outside of the school
When a couple of guys
Who were up to no good
Startin makin' trouble in my neighborhood
I got in "one lil" fight and my mom got scared
She said 'You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air'
I begged and pleaded with her day after day
But she packed my suitcase and send me on my way
She gave me a kiss and then she gave me my ticket.
I put my walkman on and said, 'I might as well "kick it"'.
I whistled for a cab and when it came near
The license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror
If anything I can say this "cab is rare"
But I thought
Seriously, what the hell am I doing? I just double-checked myself and I did not like what I was seeing. Kind of when the alcoholic realises that he is licking spilled turpentine off the floor of a pub, I just realised that I am typing out the full lyrics to the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme tune, copying random phrases from it, then google-searching those phrases to hopefully find amusing photos, and then linking those onto my blog. On a Friday evening at seven o' clock. Seriously, dude, WTF.
There must be something more productive I could be doing. I mean, I spend my days at school patrolling the corridors like Travis Bickle from Taxi Driver, glaring at all the morons that make up the lower classes of my schools. I look balefully at them with their fashionably long hair and their unique ways of tucking their ties into their shirts and their non-standard shoes and I think to myself 'Oh, if only I had a high-powered hunting rifle. Or sufficient testosterone or wit to be sure of defeating all-comers with either blistering comebacks or the blistering powers of my fists'. Then I think about how much I hate 99% of my school, on the principle that they are probably younger and happier than me, by which point the original culprit (who to be honest had only performed the crime of walking past me looking happy and/or young) has already escaped my riteous conquering fury.
The only thing that stops me from jumping off the top of the school onto my head, and thus killing myself, is the thought that somehow I am filled with bare skillz that I will somehow explode onto the world, when only I have a chance. I'm not sure what these skillz are, but in past weeks I have been thinking 'Writer', so I have been planning the day when I will be The Best Writer In The World and I will get bare respect and do bare magazine interviews and have bare groupies. No shit - I am seriously picturing myself as like "The Rock-Star Short Story Writer - Women want him, men want to BE him, he walks about looking really cool in a long leather jacket and with a minimum amount of stubble". Yeah, that would rule. And what am I doing now to further my writing career and become king of the scriveners? Why, I am writing down the theme tune to a fair-to-good 90's sitcom starring black people in order to pick out certain words and phrases which an anonymous internet searching program will associate with pictures which I find amusing.
This is actually quite worrying; I now think that I do not have the correct artistic temperament to write the next great novel. I fear that Oxford Interviews in fifty years will not concern the above blog post ("So, Miss Small-Clever-Indian-Child, what do you think about the semantic usage of the word "chillin" in this context?" "Why, I think that it raises some important issues about the position of women in modern day America, especially when one considers Tannen's opinions on the Dominance vs Difference Gender asymmetry inherent in contemporary phallocentric society" "Facinating. Is it true that 'phallocentric' is to do with penises?" "Yes" "Hee Hee you said willies.")
The above parentheses and the entire post that it followed are, I feel, not the sort of thing that TS Eliot would have spent his days creating. Or Danté. I was bored with feeling like a complete intellectual pear so I went to the library today and got out The Divine Comedy, Danté's bare long poem. Its pretty good so far. Basically, this guy is wandering through this forest trying to climb up a mountain, when he gets attacked by wild animals. He runs away, and then meets a Long Dead Poet called Virgil (when I say 'long dead poet', I mean a poet who has been dead a long time. Not a dead poet who happens to be very long, although who knows?) who is from Hell.
Virgil is like "Yo Danté, you can't get past the wild animals because they represent your sins and this is a very allegorical poem, you get me?" and then Danté is like "Yeah fo-sho bruv you my wizzly but I wanna be climbing this bare big hill, can you send me some aid, yo?" and then Virgil is like "Well check it my homes I can take you on a drive-by of Hell and then you'll be able to go up the hill for some reason," and then Danté is like "Nah blud Hell aint my deal, you wizzle?" then Virgil is like "Check it there's this chick in Heaven who wants you to go, she be called Beatrice" and then Danté is like "Woah fo shizzle, B-eatricizzle? Take me away, pimp daddy," so then Virgy and Dants walk to a river where some old guy on a boat yells at them then takes them across, but for some reason Danté falls asleep (which leads to my theory that the last line of the poem will be "He woke up and it was all a dream", although that was my expected ending for Lord of the Rings, the Harry Potter series, and anything that Haruki Murakami has ever written). Danté wakes up and they go through Limbo, where everyone is really fed up and naked and being stung by bees, then after that they hit the 1st Circle of Hell, which is full of naked people being blown about by some cold wind and that is as far as I have read to.
It is a truly gripping read and I encourage anybody with a hankering for some Italian Allegorical Punishment Poetry (IAPP) to give it a go. I also discovered that the sign "Abandon hope all ye who enter here" which is mounted on the door of my room, is actually a little motto written above the door to Hell. You learn something new every day.
See, this post has been both entertaining and educational. And I didn't even have to look anything else up on Google Images to get a cheap "laugh".
GOD DAMNIT THAT DOESN'T EVEN HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH LAUGHTER
Today's Shockingly Craptic Crossword Clue:
Shoes blocking pipes (5)
