Homeboy for Life
Life & times of an Ex-Cholo
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
All Smart n Shit
What's up vatos??!!!!! I feel all tired today homies. I was up late getting caught up on the panocha. When you're in the pinta, and you don't get no conjunctual visits, you miss it real bad. For all my uneducated homeboys, conjunctual visit is when the prison lets your ruca come visit so you can dip into the bearded clam, it's firme. But when you don't get it, you start to feel all rapey and then any culo will work. Anyways, I'm all book smart now that I got my GED so I say conjuctual visit instead of getting jail tail. One time, this vato on my cell block was super horny but he didn't want to bone no dude. He talked to me for advice, cause I'm the educated one. He said every time he tried to rape his cell mate, his pito was all soft. I told him he just had "reptile dysfunction", that's what doctors call it when your trouser snake don't work. I had my ruca sneak in some Viagra from Tijuana in her panocha, then gave it to my homie. Next week, a huevo, that fool was raping everyone. He said "I hadn't raped like that since I was 20 years old homes"!!! I was just glad to see him back on the gay horse A. It turned his balls all blue and shit but whatevers, we just call him Blueberry now.
It does kinda suck being the smart one in my barrio now. They call me the professer. My little cousins always make fun of me too. They're always saying shit like " Hey look, it's Professer Loves-to-Read", "What's up rocket surgeon?" or "Hey genius, what's 5+5". (By the way, it's 10 dumbasses). They fuckin suck. But that's cool. I make them pay when I sell them weed. I tell them that the dime bags they used to pay $20 for are now $40 because they have elevated THC levels. Figure that shit out putos!! 10 year olds are so fucking lame. I gotta roll homes. Later vatos.
Big Happy
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
I got shanked by Cupid homes!!!!
What's up Vatos!!!!!!??????????!!!!!!!! Damn it feels good to be out...again! Alright, so I just got out out of the pinta again and just like last time, it wasn't me homes. So check it out. Me and my cousin Oscar and my homeboy Chino were cruising to the Indoor Swapmeet to get like fancy clothes. The outdoor swapmeet is ghetto homes! Anyways, Chino pulls out the weed so we can get high and we pass around the yesca. Chino usually gets his weed from Roger at the donut shop on Florence but this time, he got it from Manny over by the tire shop. Who the fuck buys weed from Manny??!! That dude is from like El Salvador or some shit, no morals homes. So, we all start to feel real real high. Shit's all fucked up A! All the colors and lights are melting and it's like I'm in a cartoon. The next day, the police woke me up in the lobby of an Animal Hospital. I got so high, I thought it said Anime Hospital so I was trying to rescue Pokemon and Hello Kitty and ended up killing like $5000 dollars worth of purebreed dogs, 2 monkeys (i swear they were gay) and like 12 cats. I think I wasn't even high when I killed the cats but they're assholes so fuck em A! My puto homeboy Chino trashed the entire clinic but I got blame for everything. So I got like 3 years but got out early for good behavior.
It's cool though. I got my GED in there so now I got more education than my whole family. I use big words and shit and have to explain everything to my dumbass cousins. It was hard this time cause I kept wanting to bone a ruca, but guess what they don't got in jail....rucas. So I learned a new saying this time, "Gay for the stay". Some cool ass vato with really nice eyes said it's cool to have relations (thank you GED) in jail as long as you go back to panocha soon as you get out. Oh shit, I also had a mayate cell mate, or negro in proper english, this time. I thought I couldn't wait to stab him but he was firme, real cool dude. He wrote poetry and was Muslim he said. He said he worships Mohammed. I said that's cool. I told him he was really good but I like Julio Caesar Chavez better, puro Raza! He told me I needed to get in touch with my "artistic" side and should start writing in a journal. After I stopped laughing and calling him gay, I told him I already have a court-mandated blog. His poems were badass though. They weren't all gay and Doctor Soos sounding, like cat and the hat. But like deep thoughts n shit.
So, my first day out, I'm standing in the front yard, cleaning my car and I see this girl, Sad Eyes. You know how in the old cartoons, the little baby would shoot some fool with a heart arrow to show he's all love at first time. That was me homes, serio. Except it felt more like that gay baby shanked me with a heart-shaped screwdriver in my culo! For reals dog. The sucky thing is that she's from a nother barrio but I don't even care. We'll be all like Romero and Julia, romantical as fuck. I remembered what my homie Jerome said about poems so I invented my own kind of poem. It's Cholo Poetry; or Choloetry. So now, I am putting up my Choloem to my fine ass ruca Sad Eyes.
OWED TO LA SAD EYES (check me out, all shake spear n shit)
I see her walking down Grand Ave
over by that panaderia where I...never mind that
she looks fine....finer than any ruca in the hood
sun shining off the tall can of Bud Light
hurts my eyes to look at her...where's my locs?
her limited-edition Raiders jersey wraps her
like a Jesus robe
the smoke from her cigarette wraps around her head
makes her look like an angel coming from a cloud in heaven
the blue eye shadow on her eyes
thick like the frosting on a birthday cake
Damn! look at all those hickeys on her neck
wish i gave those to her
she gets to the corner
and i want to help her with her baby stroller
she's from one gang
i'm from the other
i don't give a fuck
she makes me feel things...like horny
i want to jump her into the gang...in my heart
Big Happy and Sad Eyes...por vida!
Orale
What do you think vatos?? Not bad, right? That shit worked A!!! I gave her the poem and she ate the chorizo! Hopefully by next month, I'll knock her up then we can get more feria from the welfare. I love that bitch, she never puts a restraining order on me or nothing. Love rules homes.
Later vatos...Big Happy
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
I'm Out Homies!! Again
What's up Vatos!!!!!!! I love when I get outta the pinta, I feel like all fresh n shit. Then I go stay at my abuela's house in Boyle Heights and go hit up the King Taco for tacos then go to one of my ruca's house for a different kind of taco!!! (laughing out loud n shit...that shit's funny, made that joke up in my cell 2 weeks ago, orale!) Check me out, I'm a comedean n shit, I'm George Lopez without the giant head homes.
Anyways, to all my viewers of this gay blog, sorry there's been no blogs to read but I had a small misunderstanding with the law. So check this out. They put me back in the pinta because I lost my screwdriver. Can you believe that shit?! I was chilling in my bedroom listening to the Art Laboe Oldies show, ironing a firme crease in my jeans and then the police came to my door. They said they found my screwdriver and I was under arrest. I was all like shock cause I never heard of that shit, arrested for losing a screwdriver. They said normally it's not illegal to lose it but that they found it in some guy's neck, that's the illegal part. So here's how that went:
ME: "That's not even mine homes!"
PIGS: "It has your name engraved right there, see...Big Happy"
ME: "C'mon ese...every clique has a vato named, could've been anyone"
PIGS: "That's actually true except it also has your address engraved too...see right there..."
ME: "Fuck me"
PIGS: "Oh they will"
That almost sucked but they found some other vato's fingerprints on it and they saw me on a security tape at the Sear's buying Dickies pants and wifebeaters, they had to let me go. Now here I am writing this stupid blog and trying to stay good. I think I'll quit stabbing people for a while, see if I can fly straight n shit. Maybe go work at McDonald's with my homie Lil Jonny, making Big Max...laters putos!
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Blogs are gay homes
What's up vatos!? My name is Big Happy and this blogging shit is lame but the judge said if I wanted to get out of the pinta (prison), then I had to "find a constructive outlet"...to like keep me outta trouble and whatnot...so whatevers. It was either this or some faggot ass ceramics class. I asked about that class though cause I thought I might get to bone some fine ass ruca like Demi Moore in that ghost movie but they told me chale homes, so now I'm a blogger! Check me out A, all on the interweb like Bill Gates n shit. When you get jumped into the gang, it's por vida, for life, but if my homies knew I was doing this, they'd probably jump me out except they wouldn't even want to touch me...they might catch the gay. It's cool though, I was gonna get fired from my gang anyways, they're too violent...I don't even like shooting people, just shanking with my old screwdriver. They were always talking shit to me like "Damn Big Happy, how come you don't like shooting people?!" and I would just say I only like to stab. Shooting peoples almost always ends up killing peoples and I don't really like killing, just fucking fools up. I have this firme (very good) tattoo on my back that talks about how I really am...it's this badass Aztec warrior and he's all on top of a pyramid...and in one arm he's holding his fine ass Aztec hyna (girlfriend) with big round chi chis and in the other hand he's holding a lot of $100 dollar bills like 100 of them cause when I think about things, I only like 2 things...that's panocha (pussy) and feria (money) and that's the real shit homes. Oh yeah, and the Raiders rule! I wanna give a shout out to my homie Danny Boy...it was his birthday but I had lost phone privlidge due to a small stabbing I allegedly did, which I didn't, it wasn't me vatos! That's all I got for now but my parole officer says I gotta keep blogging or he'll send me back and I can't take no more fucking grilled cheese so talk to you laters putos.
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