American Slang Gospel

By Philip Primeau
November 16, 2008

AMERICAN SLANG GOSPEL: Exposition on Youth Red cup beer party. Jocks, of course, pulling varsity keg stand antics. Wiggers, yo!, going rhyme-crazy, getting buck to hoppy ghetto jangles and throwing signs. Skinny in jeans, a hipster topped with sideways neon cap, brainy as hell, enjoying black tobacco. The deejay, meanwhile, touches a laptop computer machine, easily, easily.
Wicked surplus of bottle-blondes. My gaze on a certain pair of nuts tits. Owner: This chick who smiles straight solar, this chick I love to hit, though tonight that s a no go All 'faced and crap, whiskey-wounded ya know, make a rosary etc., so chill with the boys instead, suck a talented blunt instead. VT bud spins the scene dizzy ways. Oh, and the gaggers of yip on exposed flatness creating a vast white sorority attraction. Any-a-ways: Mad triple shots, Beirut table fade-aways, gold rosary bracelets freak dancing, whack drunk-texts from fine biddies; to say nothing (nothing!) of wealthy gossip arriving in televised particles from Newport Beach or Manhattan.
The inevitable post-midnight beence. (1) Gun the whip (2) Cruise home scary cocked (3) Hallucinate five-oh, their siren shrieks. Later, wank steady to MySpace pics featuring high school honeys undulating behind mentholcoconut bikinis, lipstick-smeared Bacardi jugs, braces, fashionable rosary beads.
I dodge hella pop-ups, cream nice in a hot minute, then feel pretty bent: Yuke nasty in the can, pearl rosary bracelet at last boot AIM, message this dude, wait, message again No reply flashes magical, so I stare inwards, so I crash hard, so I peace around five flipsidethe gruesome sun about to do its happy thing.