…by Moody McCarthy and Dan Allen. No me gusta. I learned that I’m not really out of shape. To be out of shape, you have be in some sort of shape in the first place. I’m more of a physical amoeba: no real definition and a gooey consistency.
Oh what a blow to the black ego to be stomped by 30something white guys named Dan and Moody. This is why I have a sense of humor. I was always the impress-you-with-my-quick-wit-talk-about-yo-mama-run-from-a-fight kind of negro, not the take-you-to-the-hole-mess-you-up-if-you-talk-bout-my-mama-look-at-my-biceps kind of negro. I realize this makes me sad.
Its been a while since I’ve played. Remember White Men Can’t Jump? That’s what people looked like last time I played. You could tell by my lingo…
“He’s got hops!”
“Mess up his cravat!”
“54 40 or fight!”
I’ma work out. I’ma get bigger. I’ma get faster. I’ma get a shape. Then Dan and Moody have got it comin’