It's that ghetto restaurant chain on the south side of Chicago that be serving everything behind bullet proof glass with either hot or mild sauce, mild sauce being some ghetto conccoction involving hot sauce, barbeque sauce and pepper.
Jamal met his shorty, Alicia, and done bought her a two wing plate with mild sauce, pepper and a grape soda at the Harold's Chicken Shack over on Cottage Grove.
That limiting agent that keeps bruthas and sista
s from doing a god-damned thing on the job.
ed the bus driver, Tokwanda, to open the door when we arrived at my stop. She say, "that ain't in my job description!"
This is a variation of the stroll
. This go down when you cross the street with your playa
s in your Domonique Wilkins 1987 throwback jersey and new matching Nike Air Force Ones
. You walk all slow accross Hayes Street knowing that not nary a car will hit you. This also has been known to go down on MLK in Oakland, on South Street in Philly, on St. Claire Avenue in Cleveland, on Cottage Grove in Chicago and on Crenshaw Blvd. in LA. (See Cottage Grove SHuffle and St. Claire Shuffle.)
I got stuck in traffic because Tyrelle and them be doing the Hayes Street Shuffle.
The 22 Fillmore is a cross-town San Francisco bus that hits all the spots - The Mission, Potrero, The Lower Haight, The Fillmore. Negro
s pile up on this bus and get all loud and hiyfee
and call they play cousin
s on they cell-a-phones and aks pregnant teenagers what be there baby-name. Cholo
s and even some white folk up in Pac Heights have been known to get down on the 22. (Otherwise known as the double-deuce)
Waiter: I should just forget tips tonight; my section looks like the 22 Fillmore.
A trail mix-eating, Berkeley-living, Subaru wagon-driving, Birkenstock-wearing, organic food-promoting, protest-organizing, muff-diving, softball-playing, Harley-riding, toolbelt-wearing, gun-toting, yoga-teaching, vegan-cooking, demonstration-marching, Peet's-working, man-hating, cunty-toned, control-freak lesbian.
I said "what's up, coach" to the lesbaterian riding her Harly to softball practice in Berkely. She snarled back, with a cunty-toned excuse for a "hello."