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 I’m white. Deal with it. Don’t “Shizzle,” "Dawg,” or “WestSIIIIIDE!” me and expect me to have any idea what you’re talking about.
Yes, my whiteness is “adorable,” thank you very much. But I think it’s more acceptable than pretending I’m not as white as it gets. I’m a Scottish-English redhead, so to even think that I’ll be busting out with “fo’ shizz dawg!” is just ridiculous. So you – and you know who you are – who giggled his way through a conversation following my total loss as to what “WestSIIIIIIDE” was referring to (and I still don’t know what it refers to…is this a gang thing? Is it a line from a song? Is it something Chris Brown screeches before he dumps you at the curb?) shove it up your foshizzle. Dawg. Yo.
Really, nothing irritates me more than people like my downstairs neighbor Matt Jeffries, who’s also as white as it gets. He sits outside his apartment, drinking, smoking and YoDawging his crew. Hey Matt? You. Are. White. White. No bro, peeps, dawg or shizzling for you. No frontin’ the game at the Jeffries crib. Chill, playa. See? See how silly that sounds? I’m white! I don’t foshizzle! I don’t “hate the playa,” I simply “loathe my downstairs neighbor” because "he is a douchebag.” “Dude,” said another friend of mine. “Don’t sweat the homeys.” What? What the hell are you talking about? I don’t sweat in anyone’s home but mine. Don’t talk to me like that. Does this make me a beeyotch? I have no idea. Is it a good thing? I can’t keep up. Should I “chill”? Am I “wastin’ a lot of chedder”? I don’t know, but suddenly I crave a pizza and a diet coke. Argh. I’m tired of pretending that I’m dope with the lingo. I am white. I am NOT dope with the lingo. I’m not supposed to be. Foshizzle dawg on the WestSIIIIIDE. Yo.
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