Al Sharpton by David Shankbone (Photo credit: Wikipedia) |
I believe Americans, by and large, do have sympathy for any person or group who’ve had life deal them a bad hand.
However, young black thugs, you’ve got to work with us a little bit because you’re kind of operating against the storyline the aforementioned are singing about y’all, and thus, making it difficult for us to soulfully commiserate.
Of what, pray tell, do I speak?
Well, homeslice, it goes something like this: For us to give a crap about your below-par existence we’d like to hear less and less about…
- Your ghastly grades in school
- Your ridiculous dropout rates
- Your colossal out of wedlock birthrates
- Your embracing of a musical culture that celebrates the shooting of cops and doing filthy, vile things to someone’s daughter
- Your love affair with drugs and alcohol
- Your #hatethem tweets aimed at white people
- Your flash mobbing and robbing places and people
- Your audacity to blame everybody and their dog for your odious behavior
- And your ginormous, misplaced racial chip on your shoulder
Yes, if you could/would chill on some of that stuff, well … That’d be great. That would make us crackers think, “Hey, maybe you’re serious about getting out of the ditch you’re in.”
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