There's Stereotypes, Then There's You

Yes, Annoying Neighbor Across the Lot, I am referring to you. You moved in a little over a month ago and I can't help but notice you play to EVERY FUCKING STEREOTYPE bestowed upon you and then some extra. How so? Where do I start?

First off, when you moved in you had "Ya boyz" (as you said) help unload everything at night so "The Spic Bitch across the way" wouldn't tell her million family members what you had. Nice to know you had me pegged from day one. And it's 2 million, asshole.

Second, during the day you walk around with your do rag on, pants hanging halfway off your ass, smoking a Black n Mild (I can smell it over here). If that wasn't enough into the stereotype, you then came home four days a week for three weeks with KFC. Someone's gonna have high cholesterol!

What came next was just too damn much. You drove home a few weeks ago driving a Cadillac Escalade with the bass so high our windows rattled and smoke rolling out of the windows. Really? The kicker, it smelled like burning trash. Hmm... Wonder what you were smoking?

The other night, you and "Ya Boyz" were hanging out in your garage drinking and conversing about any and every "Big booty bitch" who had the pleasure of riding your dick. Nice. And it lasted well past 1:00 am. We had to close our windows so Xic could sleep for work. 

Speaking of work. What the fuck do you do? You never leave for extended periods of time, but your wife, or girlfriend, or whatever she is does. So what is it that you do? Never mind. I don't know if I want to know.

Today was just too much that I couldn't help but laugh my ass off when drove up. You get out of your Escalade with yet another bucket of KFC (BTW I'm fucking jealous now cause I want some extra crispy), Black n Mild in your mouth, pants falling down, do rag in place. You go inside come back out and take a watermelon out of the back and a bag with three big things of Grape Kool-Aid mix (I know my Kool-Aid, don't ask).

How the fuck am I NOT suppose to think the stereotype bestowed upon you? I fucking HATE stereotypes with a passion! Everyone lumps me into several different ones: The "Spic Bitch with family out the Yin Yang and a shit ton of kids, The Drunken Indian who lives off casino money (I wish!), The Smelly Indian who eats a shit ton of curry (Uh, yuck!), The Goth Bitch who is pissed off at the world and lets everyone know it (Okay, half true), The Emo Chick who had a charmed life and cuts herself (Emo's make me sick and it's too close to Elmo), and last, but not least, The Wiccan Witch who will put a curse on you if you look at her wrong. I have too many to keep up with! 

Some I play with when I know it freaks people out, but I fucking hate being labeled. So why, Annoying Neighbor Across the Lot, why do you play into it yet get pissed off if someone brings it to your attention? Like your "Cuz" a few minutes ago? Jeez, he drives a Honda Accord and was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that fit. So for now, while you still deny you're playing into the stereotype, I am going to keep facepalming when you do and laugh my ass off when you get carried away with it.

~Hekate

P.S. Take your cousin's advice and pull up your damned pants. You do, in fact, look like a fucking idiot.