So I’m trying to sleep. I went to bed like three or four hours (okay, that’s an exaggeration, but it was like an hour to two) ago so it’s right in the middle of my repose when, you know, the fuckers across the street from me must have decided to have an, “It’s Two-Thirty in the Goddamned Morning,” party.
What makes up an, “It’s Two-Thirty in the Goddamned Morning,” party, you ask? Well, first of all, since it’s two-thirty in the goddamned morning, you need to begin yelling at each other as if you were fighting. I took the liberty of recording and then transcribing my neighbors for your convenience, in case you would like to throw a similar bash:
“Ay, yo, man! Fuck you nigga! Man, fuck you, nigga! You a bitch-ass nigga!”
“Yo, shut yo faggot mouth, you faggot-ass nigga! God damn, nigga! Hey! Nigga!”
“MY NIGGA!”
“THAT’S MY LIL NIGGA OVER THERE!”
“Hell yeah, fuck! Get on that shit, my lil nigga!”
“Don’t be callin’ my kid a fuckin’ nigga, you punk-ass nigga!”
“Man, fuck yo lil nigga, I don’t care!”
“You a bitch-ass! You fatass, bitch-ass nigga!”
“That’s my joint, nigga! Turn that shit up!”
Once it is time to turn up your joint, which you’ll want to be from a recording artist based out of Atlanta, Georgia (also known to the locals as: Hotlanta) or some other part of the so-called Dirty South, make sure to have a very good (or loud, if you can’t get good) stereo system and blast that favorite song of yours. In addition to getting something from the illustrious hyphy catalog, you’ll want to make sure that the lyrical content of the song consists mainly of curse words, racial slurs and vitriolic speech against women. The more times you can hear the words: “fuck,” “nigga,” “dubs,” “bitch,” or any combination thereof, the better. Music about drug use is also highly suggested.
So now, you’re playing your music at the highest decibel level that your stereo is capable of, right? Great. Now you can resume shouting at one another, which is actually a game. The rules of the game are to make sure that you are heard over the blaring of your speakers. Sounds like fun, huh? The winner is the person so loud that it finally drives one of your neighbors into a confrontation with you. You’ll want to make sure it goes down something like this:
Neighbor: “Excuse me, it’s some ridiculous hour of the morning and I’m trying to sleep. Can you guys turn the music off and be quiet?”
One of You: “Man, fuck you, nigga! I ain’t turnin’ shit down! Muthafucka!”
Neighbor: “Well, that’s real considerate of you. Can you at least stop using the ‘n’ word? It’s clear you don’t care about your child being up so late on a school night, but do you really want him using that word?”
Mother of Child: “Don’t you tell me how to raise my child! Fuck you, faggot-ass bitch!”
Neighbor: “Uh huh. Okay, well, if you guys don’t stop I’m going to call the police.”
One of You: “Go ahead, nigga! Call them cops! I bust a cap in you and then I’ll fuck those bitches up, too!”
Neighbor: “Good night!”
Now, you need to make sure that your neighbor calls the police so that you can chicken out on your promise to, “fuck those bitches up,” when they arrive.
The whole point of this is to make sure that your neighbor, even though he or she gets the satisfaction of having the police arrest a few of you, will not be able to sleep. Victory for you!