Prompt: "A song with a clinical diagnosis in the title or about a clinical diagnosis"
Selected by Pat
"Mind Playing Tricks on Me"
Geto Boys
We Can't Be Stopped, 1991
To the Board of Trustees of the Greater Houston Kiwanis Club,
I am writing to voice my displeasure about the raffle prize I won a few weeks ago at your Fall Festival Fundraiser. If you recall, I entered the raffle and won the grand prize: a Halloween hangout with Bushwick Bill of Geto Boys. I have been a long time supporter of both the Greater Houston Kiwanis Club and Houston hip hop, so naturally I had jumped at the chance to go trick-or-treating with a Houston legend. However, I regret to inform you that the night took a strange turn. How strange, you ask? Well let's dive right in.
To start, Mr. Bushwick did not wear a costume for our rendezvous, other than a medically prescribed eyepatch. This was extremely disappointing for me, as I had spent more than $2,200 putting together my hyper-realistic Count Chocula costume. This was a passion project of mine and felt this hangout was an opportunity to show off my hard work. Though I had missed a mortgage payment just to get the cape rush tailored for this special occasion, I felt that my costume was not being taken seriously by Mr. Bushwick.
That alone wouldn't have ruined the night, but Mr. Bushwick's style of trick-or-treating also gave me pause. Mostly because Mr. Bushwick's idea of a "trick" was what I understand to be "strong arm robbery." I am sorry to say I witnessed at least sixteen or seventeen "tricks" in the span of about three hours. I am even sorrier to say that I even though I resisted the urge to join Mr. Bushwick in stealing children's candy bags, I stumbled in my resolve after a group of high schoolers called me a "cheugy-ass Dracula."
The deal-breaker, though, came when Mr. Bushwick, apropos of nothing, began wildly punching at the air and screaming about a seven-foot tall man. I initially figured this was another classic Bushwick Bill jape, but the mood soured considerably after Mr. Bushwick began hitting the concrete so hard that his fists began bleeding.
I attempted to aid Mr. Bushwick and asked who he was talking to, but Mr. Bushwick would only respond about a man "from my sleep." He then punched me in the face. You should know that despite being only 3'8", Mr. Bushwick has an incredibly strong left hook. Luckily, most of the blow was absorbed by my custom-made buck-tooth fangs, though the fangs are now unusable. Deciding that was my cue, I gathered up my bag of ill-gotten Milky Ways and walked home, all while Mr. Bushwick yelled about a four-cornered room full of candles.
Needless to say, I am extremely disappointed in this outing. I would rank this experience in the top fifteen worst Halloweens of my life. It is my hope that the Greater Houston Kiwanis Club will more thoroughly vet their celebrity partnerships in the future. That being said, I am looking forward to my Thanksgiving Turkey Trot with Chamillionaire, which I won at the Armistice Day raffle last week.
Yours Truly,
Pat
I am writing to voice my displeasure about the raffle prize I won a few weeks ago at your Fall Festival Fundraiser. If you recall, I entered the raffle and won the grand prize: a Halloween hangout with Bushwick Bill of Geto Boys. I have been a long time supporter of both the Greater Houston Kiwanis Club and Houston hip hop, so naturally I had jumped at the chance to go trick-or-treating with a Houston legend. However, I regret to inform you that the night took a strange turn. How strange, you ask? Well let's dive right in.
To start, Mr. Bushwick did not wear a costume for our rendezvous, other than a medically prescribed eyepatch. This was extremely disappointing for me, as I had spent more than $2,200 putting together my hyper-realistic Count Chocula costume. This was a passion project of mine and felt this hangout was an opportunity to show off my hard work. Though I had missed a mortgage payment just to get the cape rush tailored for this special occasion, I felt that my costume was not being taken seriously by Mr. Bushwick.
That alone wouldn't have ruined the night, but Mr. Bushwick's style of trick-or-treating also gave me pause. Mostly because Mr. Bushwick's idea of a "trick" was what I understand to be "strong arm robbery." I am sorry to say I witnessed at least sixteen or seventeen "tricks" in the span of about three hours. I am even sorrier to say that I even though I resisted the urge to join Mr. Bushwick in stealing children's candy bags, I stumbled in my resolve after a group of high schoolers called me a "cheugy-ass Dracula."
The deal-breaker, though, came when Mr. Bushwick, apropos of nothing, began wildly punching at the air and screaming about a seven-foot tall man. I initially figured this was another classic Bushwick Bill jape, but the mood soured considerably after Mr. Bushwick began hitting the concrete so hard that his fists began bleeding.
I attempted to aid Mr. Bushwick and asked who he was talking to, but Mr. Bushwick would only respond about a man "from my sleep." He then punched me in the face. You should know that despite being only 3'8", Mr. Bushwick has an incredibly strong left hook. Luckily, most of the blow was absorbed by my custom-made buck-tooth fangs, though the fangs are now unusable. Deciding that was my cue, I gathered up my bag of ill-gotten Milky Ways and walked home, all while Mr. Bushwick yelled about a four-cornered room full of candles.
Needless to say, I am extremely disappointed in this outing. I would rank this experience in the top fifteen worst Halloweens of my life. It is my hope that the Greater Houston Kiwanis Club will more thoroughly vet their celebrity partnerships in the future. That being said, I am looking forward to my Thanksgiving Turkey Trot with Chamillionaire, which I won at the Armistice Day raffle last week.
Yours Truly,
Pat
No comments:
Post a Comment