LESSON FROM THE JERRY CURL TWINS

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