Recently, a student and I had a discussion about DMX and the illuminati. I later discovered that DMX was performing at an event I was attending. The organizers must have desired an artist whose career was “dead” to headline the Zombie Pub Crawl. Oddly, I
was excited to see this hard-core rapper. One would have thought I was DMX’s
biggest fan, hands in the air “like I just don’t care,” singing “y’all
can suck my dick.”
But, DMX disappointed a lot of folks. Many were ready to tell DMX to suck their
undead dicks for showing up 90 minutes late and performing only a 30 minute set.
Screw DMX.
TOTAL
BULL-SHIT.
WTF?
Fuck DMX –
that washed –up drug addict.
Who does
he think he is?
The above is a sampling of hundreds of irate comments
from the zpc stream. Yes --someone
asked, “Who does he think he is?”
I would reply with another question, “Who do you think he is? He’s mother fucking DMX; he’s not exactly the
most upstanding citizen in the world.
Are you not aware of his reputation?“
Here’s a quick lesson: DMX was charged with animal cruelty,
disorderly conduct, and possession, after officers found a loaded pistol, 13
pit bulls, and six crack pipes in his home. Later, he was arrested for stealing a vehicle,
and identifying himself as an FBI
agent. So, really, you’re surprised?
DMX lacked proper manners on stage; there’s another shocker. He announced, “Boy – you all a bunch of
ugly mother fuckers. I wouldn’t fuck
her, I wouldn’t fuck her, oooh … I definitely wouldn’t fuck you girl.” In his defense, we were all dressed like zombies
so it probably would have been fucked up if he did have a hard-on.
I pulled my
friends closer to the stage.
“C’mon, guys,” I yelled, “Let’s get up in there! DMX wants to
see me!” At that point in the evening, I
fully believed this with all my heart.
Then someone
in the crowd threw something on stage. To this, DMX stated, “Another one of you
fuckers wants to throw something and I’m gonna come down
there and kick your ass, faggot.” My
friend and I looked at one another, shaking our heads in disapproval of this
homophobic slur.
His performance soon ended, but my
time with DMX was not over. “I gotta go talk to DMX,” I announced
to my friend. “No, no, you don’t,” she adamantly
tried to convince me otherwise. I snuck past the gates and approached the
back of the stage. A large security
guard stopped me and told me to turn around. I told him DMX wanted to talk to me. I was so sincere in this and honestly
believed what I was saying.
DMX made
his way off the stage, and I winked and pointed at him, “Hey,
DMX, you wanna see me, right?”
The guard
was shaking his head negatively and trying to push me back, but
DMX said, “Get on over here honey.”
I don’t know why this made me immensely happy, but I beamed and
bounced over in my red tutu, visible black panties, and “Zombie Bitch
from Hell” tee. This apparel
probably helped because truth is I have an ass that is quite popular with
the African American male community.
So, DMX
invited me over and embraced me in a warm hug.
“Hey DMX," I said, “I gotta tell you why we need to talk. See, I lost my teaching job due to
fucking Scott Walker.”
“Scott
Walker? Who’s Scott Walker?” DMX questioned.
I know you’re wildly surprised that DMX is not educated enough in
politics to recognize this name.
One of the
security guards answered, “He’s the governor of Wisconsin. He’s an ass."
I gave that
guy a high-five, and continued, “Yeah, he’s the governor, but he didn’t even graduate from college.”
“Dude didn’t
graduate from college and he wants to run a state?” questioned DMX in genuine
disbelief and disgust.
“He is
running it,” I replied, “He even won a recall election.”
“Well, that
shit ain’t right,” DMX said, shaking his head.
I had underestimated DMX, judging him on his reputation, but even
DMX knew that education should be valued.
“Anyway, we’re
gonna get off track here, DMX,” I continued, “So, you see, because I lost my
job I work part-time now as a para and my new students told me you never committed
any of those crimes you’ve been convicted of, and the illuminati is framing you.”
Fuck. I
have big balls. Also – what is wrong with
me?
“Oh, I don’t
know nothing about no illuminati. I don’t
want to talk about no illuminati.”
I did, so I went on to tell DMX everything I
had recently learned. He endured this for a while, and then
interrupted, “You want a hug, sweetie?
You a sweet girl.” He gave me
another big hug, and kissed me on the cheek.
Then, DMX
asked me if I loved the Lord. I said I
surely do. He showed me the “Jesus Saves”
tattoo on his wrist. Then I got to it –
the reason I felt most compelled to talk to DMX . “This brings me to the point I
wanted to make. I need to tell
you one more thing. You're telling me you love Jesus, and Jesus
wants you to love everyone, and we shouldn't judge others, so it’s not cool to use the word ‘faggot.’” “Well, see, now you judging me!” he said, his voice slightly rising in anger. “I don’t mean ‘faggot’ like you gay; I mean ‘faggot’ like you an asshole. You know? I got no problem with the gays! I got an uncle that’s straight gay!”
After this,
there was more hugging before I returned to my friends. I got high-fives from everyone we met
as my friend bragged about my exchange with DMX, but the
police officer we spoke with asked, “Why did you talk to that dude?
He’s an egotistical prick.” Again, he’s
mother fucking DMX. What did you expect?
Resources: http://crime.about.com/od/famousdiduno/ig/mugshots_rap_hip_rb/DMX-Mugshot.htm
