(Also known as CJ)
The first african american you get to play in Grand Theft Auto. Carl Johnson is a man who left his hood in Los Angeles (called Los Santos) for 5 years, just to come back to a phone call about his mother's assasination.
On the way home from the airport, his little C.R.A.S.H. buddies appear (See Tenpenny) and take all his money. They drop him off in Ballas turf and leave him to rot.
Carl Johnson is a character you get to customize (first time in GTA), you can make him fat by eating too much at fast food joints, you can make him muscular by going to the gym, you can make him a sex bomb, or a sex dud by buying good clothes, getting nice cuts, driving sweet cars, and dating one of the 7 hot ladies while playing through the storyline
Carl: Fucking mute gave me a peice of shit instead of a pinkslip!
To show up to work one day and unexpectedly get the can/boot/pinkslip/fired...
So I hobble my ass into work today, and I get Farbined. The dealership is about to go under, so they are making more cuts, and I was given the boot.
|3.||Big B every day|
Created by an evil red head, this saying has become the bain of Big B, haunting his every foot step, and crushing his spirit. If you hear someone say this, you must repeat, then creating a surround sound effect.
Cason: "Big B every day!"
Adrian: "Big B every day!"
Zack: "Big B every day!"
Dan: "Big B every day!"
Typically a person who buys a Japanese car with the intent on souping it up and racing it at the local dragstrip. The whole time at the track they are sitting at the line next to an IrocZ with a 454V8 that has been ludicrisly modded with cackling cams and an extemely low idle as well an exhaust system that is bent out the sides and spitting flames. Even after that they are still oblivious to their impending doom and still think he/she can win. A rice racer will still race against unfair opponents and blame their loss on little mistakes instead of the fact their car can not exceed 120mph with out exploding. This is not to be confused with Professional rice racers that know when to except defeat and drive tuners.
That rice racer is an idiot. He challanged me to a pinkslip drag race. My '72 Barracuda with a posi, wide slicks for rear tires and a 572 Hemi V8 vs his civic with chopped suspension, a body kit, and a street level turbo. Looks like I'm taking his car and his pride today!