Monday, May 25, 2009


I have known all along that this cracker would come back. The master hacker His Excellency Pastor Joe will be back in the cockpit of his cab some time this week. I can not tell you how excited I am, this motherfucker taught me everything I know. I do believe he is the best hacker in this city and Washingtonians are lucky to have him back on the streets.

I think Pastor Joe is the only cabbie who hangs out around DC jail to pick up his regular clients, even Mad Cabbie has his limits.

Welcome back Pastor!

Please don't forget the homeless,

Mad Cabbie.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009


I was parked and chilling outside the Channel Inn in south west eating an apple until I was interrupted by this kid who was riding his bike. He sneaked up next to me and scared the shit out of me.

ME: What the fuck is wrong with you, you little fuck! Don't you ever sneak up on me like that!
CJ: Sorry Mad, I haven't seen you in a long time, I thought you quit driving a cab!
ME: No CJ I had to be with my dad for a while, he passed away a couple of month ago.
CJ: He got killed or something?
ME: NO! You dumb fuck! My dad died of cancer, you little piece of shit!

I really don't blame CJ for thinking that my dad may have been killed by someone. In his world every dead person he knows was shot and killed by gun violence.

CJ is a short 5 feet nothing 18 year old who dropped out of school three years ago. A classic ghetto tale, father doing time, mother on food stamps living in a section 8 development off Delaware avenue and all that good stuff. Quite a few times I tried to get him in to some programme so he could take his GED test but I never succeeded. CJ is a small time hustler with a "Scarface" dream, so education is not on top of his priority list.

ME: So what are you up to these days CJ? What are you doing up two in the morning?
CJ: You know the drill, trying to get paid! You know what I'm saying?
ME: You better get your shit straight CJ!
CJ: it's rough out here Mad, Niggers popped Skippy few months ago you know!
ME: Skippy? Is he that fat kid who walks funny?
CJ: Yes that's him! They smoked his ass in Baltimore.
ME: I am surprised he lived this long! What is he 22 or 23?
CJ: Some shit like that! Listen Mad, can you help on that GDE thing?
ME: First, It's GED you ass wipe! Second, I am done with you! Do your own shit!
CJ: I promise, I won't fuck up this time Mad!
ME: CJ, just go to a fucken library, they will give you all the information you need.
CJ: It's like that uh?
ME: I had it with you CJ, now leave me alone and let me eat this stupid apple.

Cj got irritated and took off with his bicycle but he came right back to deliver a piece of his mind.

"You're full of shit Mad! I don't need a fucken GED! You have a college degree, but look at you, you're a fucken sorry ass cab driver! PUNK!!!"

CJ disappeared in to the darkness and I didn't have any response to the torpedo he just fired my way, he wouldn't understand anyways.

Please don't forget the homeless,

Mad Cabbie.

Thursday, May 14, 2009


Look at the new face of the Republican Party! A sexually confused fat man if you notice carefully the way he is sucking on that stupid cigar, He likes it big too!

I thought I was the only one who found the Wanda Sykes "I hope his kidney fails!" line very funny. Everyone is like "she went too far with that cheap shot!" Cheap shot my ass! I laughed my ass off! My friend Lizzie articulated the reasons very well why Rush "To Eat" Limbaugh don't deserve an ounce of sympathy for the beating he took that night. In fact Lizzie concluded her post by saying:

"I'm vehemently against torture. But I would happily waterboard Rush any day."

I hope he wakes up with a hemorrhoid a size of a basketball! How you like that one?

Please don't forget the homeless,

Mad Cabbie.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009


Last night I picked up a petite young blond from a bar in DuPont Circle. She was trying to get home around Logan Circle after a bartending gig. She could have easily walked out to the street and flagged a cab off Connecticut avenue but instead she called Diamond Cab and paid the extra $2.00 charge for the service. But she was telling me that ever since she got robbed by a thug who was driving a stolen cab she was riding in, she stopped catching a cab off the street whenever she rides alone at night. Cabs get stolen all the time and who ever drives the stolen cab could have an open crime season to do what ever he wants if he decides to pick up people. I think she is lucky person that she is still living.

This is another reason why you should call Diamond Cab, especially if you are a chick riding alone at night. Don't call our only competition (Yellow Cab)! The drivers are ugly motherfuckers and they only take showers on holidays. Here at Diamond Cab, drivers are required by management to take a shower at least once every other week but most drivers I know are hygiene freaks and they do shower every Sunday.

Here is our call center number if you need it! (202)387-6200

Please don't forget the homeless,

Mad Cabbie.

Monday, May 11, 2009


I have been robbed at gunpoint couple of times. The first time I got robbed I almost pooped on my seat but I ended up just having a few brown skid marks in my pants. Just as a reminder on how my job dangerous it could be, I have that same messy pants nicely framed and hanged in my living room. Sometimes I have visitors to my house asking me, "Hey Mad, we didn't know that you're in to abstract arts! Is that a Picasso?"

"That's not a Picasso motherfucker! That's what night cabbies pants look like every time a gun is pointed at the back of their heads!"

The second time was a little different, there were no skid marks or anything like that. I was cool and calm and the jackass who robbed me was nice and polite as well, I think I gave him my card in case next time he needed a ride.

Lately I am kind of feeling my third one is past due, especially in my case who never cherry pick his passengers. You could be waving your gun with one hand and a crack pipe with the other to get my attention, and my dumb ass would stop for you to take you to where ever shit hole you belong to. This time I am hoping to have a drink afterwards with the next motherfucker who's going to rob my sorry ass.

Please don't forget the homeless,

Mad Cabbie.

Thursday, May 07, 2009


"It's much pleasurable than a good fuck!"

That's how a lady in her late fifty's described to me her love for sailing. I picked her up last week very early in the morning from Georgetown going to Union Station. She was traveling to New London, Connecticut to participate in some kind of sailing race.

What people say and do never shocks me. I have heard it all and seen it all but for some odd reason this old broad kind of stunned me.

Please don't forget the homeless,

Mad Cabbie.

Wednesday, May 06, 2009


I am a very confidant individual, you can laugh all you want but I consider myself a successful person. You may ask, "Mad Cabbie, you drive a dumb ass cab for a living! How could you say some stupid ass shit like that nigger?"

You see, the media oriented society made us believe that success is only gauged by how much shit load of money you have, how big a mansion you live in, which Ivy League college you went to, how many important people you mingle around with, how expensive is the piece of metal you drive and so on and so on. That might be half true, I don't know because I never had either of those things. But what I have is a sense of freedom, the ability to simplify my life, the availability to participate in a cause I passionately care for, great family and friends (some of them shady) and the greatest of all, I DON'T own an alarm clock and a TV set!

I am not perfect by no means but I am confident enough that I will be smiling in my death bed looking back on how I lived my life. Let me tell you a little story about what could be one of the the building blocks that made Mad cabbie who he is today.

When I was 13 years old we lived at the 600 block of Peabody street in DC, right behind the 4th district police station. Nice working class black neighborhood, my mother was the only white person there, or maybe with exception of few white cops who cruised back and forth the streets on their way to the station. The house right across from us lived the "The Jerry Curl Family", the parents and the twin boys all wore Jerry curls which was fashionable in the black community at the time. The twins were the bullies of the street, those niggers had full beard at 13 man. They used to claim that my mother was a CIA agent spying on the black community, and they bitch slapped me all the time when I stood up for her. It came to a point that I was afraid to come out of my house, in fact I was so bored in my room I jerked off all day long.

It was one summer morning, I woke up from bed and looked out the window and there were the Jerry curl twins sitting by the porch and enjoying the sun. I don't know what happened, something snapped in my head telling me "THE JERRY CURL TWINS MUST DIE!!!". I walked straight out to their porch and called out one of the brothers, and he did not know what's coming! He said something like, "What the fuck you want? It better be something good!" The minute he got to a striking range I knocked his greasy ass out cold with two fast blows one to his right ear and one to his nose. While he was lying on the floor unconscious and bleeding, his brother ran toward me but I used his own force to throw him to the ground and I managed to be on top of him choking him and banging his head against the ground.

To make the long story short, my parents ended up with a huge medical bill but those motherfuckers never fucked with me again. Ever since that summer morning my life changed for the better, I stopped believing the hype, I started to look at myself and the world very differently, It was a confidence building moment! Confident enough to believe that I could be a cabbie and have a simple happy life.

My father did well as a private contractor after he left the military so the following summer we moved to a much better neighborhood in Maryland with good schools, and I had to learn how to speak English all over again. The only problem? We were the only blacks in the hood! And my mother was like, "It's pay back time motherfuckers!"

Please don't forget the homeless,

Mad Cabbie