I finally made it out again

I was finally able to make it out and do some observing and here is what I came up with. Somehow I found myself out at a dive near downtown where I made several observations but this one stuck out the most. I couldn't keep my eyes off the dance floor partly because I was a little more sober than most and partly because I couldn't get over the catastrophe that was going on before my very eyes. Before I tell you about it, let me preface it by acknowledging that I can, in no way, shape or form dance but I know this. So while checking out the rug-cutting going on I was able to break it down into four different categories. 1. The obviously good dancer. This is the guy or girl who can clearly cut it up, no questions asked. Most people will look at this person and say "damn son, that dude can dance." 2. The obviously bad dancer. This is the good dancer's nemesis. This person will throw out his best moves trying to outdance the other. Sometimes he will even try to mimic the good guy to "out-do" him but usually ends up just embarrassing himself even more than he already has. This is the person who should not be allowed to dance outside the confines of their own bedroom. 3. The bar-side dancer. This person is usually grinding against their partner, clearly boozed, eyes unfocused and generally uncoordinated. The mate is usually scanning the bar to see who all is watching the fiasco happening in his lap. The bar-side dancer is funny because, as to pour salt on the wounds of the mate, after the song is over it is usually followed by excessive and sloppy PDA. And finally 4. The overdancer. This person is hilarious because they only have a couple of moves in their repertoire and regardless of how slow the music is, they are going about five times faster than they should. I love this person for a couple of reasons. One is it is almost guaranteed that someone is going to get plowed down by the overdancing buffoon or the dancing clown will end up on the floor. It is hard not to continuously watch them just for the inevitable trainwreck that will ensue. So which one are you?

Inevitabilities...

I know…it’s been a while since I’ve posted. My apologies. Been busy, yada, yada, yada. I’ve been thinking about this one for a few days though. Just now getting around to typing the thoughts. This week’s episode has to do with inevitabilities, things I know will happen given certain circumstances. Herewith, my list of (not-too-distant future) inevitabilities:

1. Miguel will be called syphilis for some time. Not because he has it, but because his haircut reminds Lips of Caesar who I guess (according to Lips) died of the disease. I thought he died at the sword of his own troops, but Lips’ ending is nothing, if not more entertaining.
2. Like wise, Cristobol, among his many other nicknames (my favorite being ”Meat” from his deli counter days) will be called…Luther Vandross ---again from the en fuego Lips last Saturday…due to his quick weight gain, then weight loss, then weight gain, then…. For some time. Very Kirstie Alley like.
3. We will always have one more beer than we should. What is it in our psyche, that when we have just the right buzz going, but insist on not just another beer (or the more intelligent ride home), but accelerating our alcoholic intake double-fold?!
4. Cones and Nicole will turn their backs on this blog completely.
5. Lips will hear about items #1 & #2 above. No doubt about it.
6. We will drink too much Thursday night and feel like arse all day Friday even though we’ve got a busy day. (see # 3 above) But hey, how often do you get to see King Nugget in Chi-town!
7. I will need next Monday for recovery. Thank God the two remaining brain cells provided the forethought to take it off when we planned this trip long ago.
8. DeuceCones will get much use out of his new, sweet dartboard set up. Then proclaim his readiness to take on the pros in the World Series of Dart in 2007 on ESPN Ocho. "Good dart!"
9. Nicole will be right there with him until BC comes along and teaches us all a lesson.
10. Pedro will talk out of the side of his mouth this weekend (hopefully after an ND win, but may not be able to walk if they lose).
11. Speaking of ‘Das Enough…Pete Finfrock will go out on a limb and proclaim that we have indeed seen our last 100 degree day of 2006.
12. The Rangers will miss the playoffs (shocker), the Mavs will make the Finals again this next season and the Cowboys will finish with a better record than the Bears, in a much more difficult division, mind you. And don’t get me started on the Saints or the Niners. Perhaps the two worst defenses in the NFL.
13. Mesch & Pierard will not finish in the top 3 unless they de-pants someone in a trade (always possible with Box “Peyton for Rod Smith” Num-nuts around).
14. Brady Quinn will finish top 3 in the FF final standings (maybe not reg. Season, but final standings).
15. Three weddings will be a LOT of fun next year: Cristobol/Becky, Nugget/Kristi & Deuce/Reik!
16. If you answer the phone “yello” or hang up the phone with a “ba-bye” and you are a dude…you will turn gay…if you’re not already there. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
17. DeuceCones will wuss out on getting the Italian crest tattoo. (What’s the delay?!)
18. Paris will tell Nicole how to dress, who to date and if some chick is not right for him…at least one or two more times in the future.
19. Nicole will respond to Paris with an “I love you.”
20. Ok, that last one freaked me out too. Time to wrap this thing up.
21. Ok so that last one was not inevitability, but if you’ve read this far, who cares.
22. This ND trip will be awesome. Nugget, the 2nd win on the way to the Nat’l Championship (hopefully), Linebackers Bar, the whole Catholic thing, cold beer, cooler weather, opportunity to hang with good friends at one of my favorite places in the world…all = Greatness!
23. Notorious BLG will comment on this post…as she does every Mope post. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. We love comments. BTW, how are Tito Jackson and Courtney Love?

Ok ‘Das Enuf!

Lifesaver!

Well, I somehow managed to make it through another weekend but I did have a little help. After an exciting Saturday afternoon of fantasy football draft, we proceeded to the Deuce abode for a fun filled night of throwing darts and annihilating a keg of beer. So fast forward to Sunday morning. I wake up feeling like complete arse and I quickly realized that I needed sustenance in my buddah before I was ready to deal with the everyday beatings of a busy Sunday afternoon. While thumbing through the mental breakfast rolodex, I decided to go with the instant hangover cure that the Mexicans concocted known as menudo. If you have never had the opportunity to try this dish, your have to give it a shot. Make me one promise before you dive into your first bowl though......Do not ask what it is made of. One more thing before I go. Did you guys know that you could get sore playing darts? I feel like such a chump every time I cringe when I straighten out my arm. I figured that I have lifted enough pints to strengthen my right arm but I guess I was wrong. I guess that the 16 ounce curls must continue but I have learned my lesson. INCREASE THE REPS!

Pure Genius.

credit: GOD.

Nice shirt...

Pretty much says it all...

credit: Shumpy.com

Enough is enough!

Alright MFr's...time for a true MFn RANT!
I HATE AMERICAN AIRLINES! They are a bunch of anti-competitive sons-of-beeee-otches!
They treat you like cattle and God forbid you ask the air-hag for something. You'll likely have a look shot at you like she is trying to laser you to the seat.
"Excuse me miss, may I have a glass of ice, please"
Response: (In Gozer's voice from Ghostbuster's---Her eyes red, head spinning on it's axis...)
"You shall not only NOT have more ice, I shall strike you down with furious hormonal rage and you shall spite yourself for asking such a horrifying question to begin with. Now sit your demanding arse down in your 1x2 cell with your knees to your chin and don't say another word until you have reached your destination AND unpacked. You writhing insolent waste of life."

Tell me that's not how you feel.

The anger has been building for some time (nearly bumped from an over-sold flight in STL in May, if it were not for a quite pleasant old man who "volunteered" to stay behind on an over-sold flight, not to mention countless other mishaps and delays..the majority of which are caused by the airlines themselves because they don't know their arse from a door handle), but the scales were tipped this morning ladies and gentlemen.

I was informed by AA today--no I take that back, I wouldn't have known if I hadn't gone on-line to see about a refund for a friend--that our itinerary has changed. We are no longer landing at MDW, we are landing at ORD. Which might as well be F'n INDIANA since we're landing there at the beginning of rush hour (4:20pm). SOBs. Problem is the rental car (reserved thru Priceline) is at MFn MDW. F'n FF!!!!! Of course, bcs it's Priceline, they have no cancellation, no change policy. Fortunately after pleading my case to "Ronette" at Priceline she refunds my first res. in full but now I've got to do a whole new one for ORD. Which I did. We still have an SUV at ORD waiting for us. But that's not the point.

The point is that AA has been screwing us for years. Especially those of us who live in DFW. Given our geography in relation to the rest of the country you'd think this would be one of the cheapest hubs to fly out of. Quite the contrary, thanks to their monopoly of this market. We Dallasites pay double, triple most airfares. I can't wait till SWA can fly anywhere they want. Not bcs I particularly like their cattle car operation either. But at least their queer flight attendants will sing and smile and won't cut you off (Yes, I've done 5 beers between DFW and Hobby before). Go Dally! But the competition (which is ALWAYS good for the consumer...anyone who says different has their hand in the sand), might just make airfare in the DFW area more affordable, and thus more on par with the rest of this fine land of ours.

Rant over.

I need a beer.

It is a good time of year.......

.....FINALLY!! Well boys, as you well know it is football time. There aren't a lot of things more exciting in life than being able to see the NFL and NCAA football season on the horizon. Fantasy football is right around the corner as well as seeing the greatness of Notre Dame football on Saturday afternoon. Speaking of ND football, we have a trip planned coming up in just 16 days and I can't wait. Just to step foot on the campus will be a feeling that I haven't had since about four years ago when I last stepped on the grounds. I can clearly remember the last time that I set foot on the campus, it was like having a great night of grex. You know what I mean? Just being in a place where it feels so good and afterwards closing my eyes and muttering the words "was that as great for you as it was for me?" Where was I going with this.....Oh yea, football! Once again, I love it. I can't wait to be ponied up to some random bar watching multiple games at the same time watching my fantasy football team take in the can from day one. So bring on the brews, football and the good times.

Unbelieveable...

So there I was last night enjoying a quiet night of darts, beers and conversation with two of the other Mopes, when all of the sudden the doors of Volcano's swung open as if at the OK Corral and at TORNADO swept in. In the matter of minutes the simple Saturday evening turned strangely chaotic.

Why...well through the fog and haze of the Sunday morning hangover I remember the tornado not only disrupted (in the most pleasurable of ways) the simple evening but also deposited none other than Courtney Love and her date Tito Jackson in our midst. YES...THE REAL COURTNEY LOVE! I couldn't believe it. Though her Hole singing days must've taken a toll becuse when she spoke I was instantly reminded of the greatest of all 80's arcade games...Frogger! She should contact Seinfeld and they should re-do the episode of George trying to move across the street with her narrating it. Seriously. I'm telling you, this would be an instant DVD must-have for every Seinfeld fan.

The more I drank, er the more she spoke, the more I kept thinking of FROGS!

Then there was Tito. Didn't know an original member of the Jackson 5 and Love hooked up. But there it was, in the din of Volcano's. This must be the oddest Hollywood coupling since Micheal and Macaulay!

I must say though that Tito was a pretty cool cat. He was proud of his white Hummer (yea, there's a joke in there somewhere, but I'll leave that alone), but what I couldn't figure out was why he was with Courtney that night at all. You see the Love-Tito Tornado evidently had a night of it the evening before. I hear Courtney drank her body weight in shots and promptly delivered them on the interior of Tito's white Hummer! That's right, Tito had to hire someone to clean his Hummer (another joke opportunity)! And the dude was still with Courtney the very next night. I don't care who you are...if you have the grawls to continue dating the chick that just blew chunks on the inside of your White Hummer...you must be an alright dude...or insane...or something.

Anyway, after reliving the conversation today seems I missed out on a large part of the conversation...something about Courtney, uh hum, "acting" in Hollywood. Something about $1000 for 45 minutes of work in the Valley. I'll leave the rest to your imagination, but after 10 or 11 "episodes" seems the work went "limp".

Oh and to top it all off, I finally got to meet the lovely BLG. Nice to meet you BLG. I'm sure we'll have more conversation over cold adult beverages soon. I'm still not ready to admit to the "hotness" of Hispanic men but I'm sure we'll find something to talk about.

Anyway, pretty good night over all. And I can officially say I've met Courtney F'n Love and Tito White Hummer Jackson....for whatever that's worth!

Best of luck to Tito and Courtney. I disagree with the tabloids...I think you guys are gonna make it!

I overheard a pretty funny conversation

Mope 1: You should have steel grawls now.

Just tell everyone that the doctor installed platinum nuts for you. They can withstand any voltage!

Hey steel nuts,,,where'd you go?

Mope 2: talking to my brother

steel nuts?

come on dude!!!

a little sympathy

im in pain

nuts of steel will have to wait until next week

Mope 1: Does it hurt to take a leak?

Mope 2:haven't had to do it yet

but I feel a grumpy coming on

Mope 1: Have you had wood? I heard that hurts too.

Mope 2: not yet but I do have the urge to yank it for some odd reason

Mope 1: Nice.

"Oooo yea, git it girl!"

Mope 2: u need help dude

Mope 1: There is NO question.

I think grex enters my consciousness about every .333333 of a second.

Mope 2: every pie of a second?

Mope 1: I think the only time I don't think about grex is after I've just finished...and even that lasts about 3.5 minutes.

Mope 2: so if u had ur way

how many times would u get it a day?

Mope 1: If I had my way....3-5 times a day.

No it would not get old to me.

that includes bj's too.

I'm talking all kinds of release man!

Mope 2: if u got it that much how long would it take for u to start saying, 3-5 is too much?

Mope 1: I don't know, but I'd really like to find out.

I need a nympho!

Mope 2: u would look like a deflated balloon in about a week son!

Mope 1: That's funny.

I'd probably talk with helium voice.

Mope 2: hell yea u would!

I just had a mental picture of that

Mope 1: helium voice- "Come on babe, one more time"

Hee Hee!

Mope 2: that's funny

helium voice- WIFE, it's time. Let's do this.

Mope 1: Holla!

"Sh*t...

...or get off the pot!"
I just heard one of my Directors utter that phrase and it got me to thinking....
I wonder who, while sitting on the can, decided that that was an appropriate phrase to bring into the business world. When someone was going on and on about how great they were when, in reality, they did nothing...that one person I'm wondering about decided to utter that phrase. On second thought, I'd like to have a beer with that dude. I'll bet he was ok.

Quick aside...another thing I don't quite get are dudes who sit on the can and read a magazine or newspaper. Of all the places to do that...why the can? Can't be comfortable. And are they that comfortable with their own stench? I'll bet these are the same dudes who walk around with dragon breath and that one annoying black pepper in their teeth.
Good God man, finish your crap, get the hell outta there and hit the couch to read!

Snip, Snip...

...God speed Lips...God speed.
The twig & berries will never be the same.

Quid Pro Quo

OK, OK Das Enough. That is a valid question and I do have a response for you. Does it mean that the dingus should stay in the pants if a girl reciprocates? I say do it. You, as a mope, don't have to look at the dingus. Just look away. But if you know that there is possible boobs or betty to see in return, don't you think that the guys would appreciate it? I have to think that most guys would. Even if a dude gets a glimpse of the dingus, I think he could shake it off for the upcoming boob show.

Good call...

...Lips, regarding PDA. I don't get it either. We're not in Jr. High anymore. What's worse is doing it at a bar that you frequent. How embarrassing! Why would you do that? To show everyone that you are with that chick or what? Is it a self-esteem thing?!

One question though about "keeping it in your pants"....does that apply to one's dingus too? What if you get the ole "I'll show you my boobs, if you show your dingus?"

Personally I don't need to see a boob that bad. I'll keep my small johnson in his small home.
You?!

PDA

OK boys, here we go. So this has been on my mind for some time now. Public display of affection or PDA. In the last week or two I have witnessed enough PDA to last me a lifetime. I can't for the life of me figure out what possesses people to display their affection for one another in a bar or restaurant. Is it love? Is it alcohol? Is it the hopes of getting some action? Now I understand that there is probably always going to be some sort of PDA between a guy and girl at some point in the relationship but how much too much? I recently witnesses a guy and girl that were one boob away from it being a R rated movie. Even with the random wisecracks in the immediate vicinity, do you think that was enough to make them stop? I think not. So you tell me. I personally think that a quick kiss or a peck is completely acceptable but where is the line drawn? Obviously, trying to choke each other to death with your tongues is a little extreme but when is enough enough? Don't be one of those mopes in the bar with your girl doing this. If you need it that bad, I am sure there is a hotel with about 5 minutes from anywhere you are. Do us a favor and keep it in your mouth, in your pants and out of sight. Mopes, any thoughts?

Speaking...

...of that night....I heard the phrase "Hell F'n No!" with the giraffe-like head-bob one too many times. The only people who should ever utter that phrase are the Nubian Queens, for whom I have great admiration for. Mujeres blancas should not say it under any circumstances....ever! But especially not with a Z-snap and bobble-head neck.

Lady wood.

Don't forget the special pool "glove"!
What a whip these guys are. They're the same ones who own their own bowling balls and can't mark in the 10th frame!

And NO...it is not cool, or acceptable, or funny, or anything but a whip when chicks use the mens' room...even if it is to get lady wood. Those women should be banished! And most are F'd-up-grill-havin'-saddle-bagged-bottom-tattoo'd-up-wife-beater-wearing-sh*t-talkin-no-biz-being-cocky-possible-mustache-wearing-Eeeewwws anyway!

Who are these people?

Yet once again I find myself in a random bar, having a beer with some friends and I notice something odd. In walks a couple of guys with their own poolsticks. So the first thing I think is that these guys must be one step away from being on ESPN. So I keep glancing over expecting the average game to last about 90 seconds but, beyond my belief, these guys suck! So now my thinking process changes to "what the hell were you thinking?" I mean, don't these sticks cost a lot of money? I can only compare to me going out and buying several hundred dollars of lacrosse equipment, having never played before. Maybe it is just me overthinking this or maybe it is now cool to have your own stick and still suck. It is just beyond me why someone would do this?

Just when you thought that the night was over, I stumble into the restroom to take what I hope is going to be the last fluid drainage of the night and low and behold there is a woman in there waiting for the can. It was kind of funny at first but all the rest of the guys just seemed to laugh it off and proceed to the wall unit. Nobody said anything. Nobody seemed to give it much thought. Everyone just kind of went about the business. I had to keep an eye on her though and guess what I saw? This girl would peek over and take a glance at the guy's ......unit. So it made me wonder, do chicks get lady wood? Because I tried to put myself in her position and I have to think that my pants would have to be going a little crazy. I know what your thinking. How can you get all worked up in the crapper? Well, I can't answer that question but it sure seemed like she wasn't hating life too much being in there. So I guess the last question that I have is if it is ok for women to go into the men's room, why is it not ok for guys to go into the women's room?

Hmmm...

...I think the Addison Stripped Shirt guy turns into the sleeve-less guy somewhere in the middle of his mid-life crisis. About the time he buys a sports car and begins looking for the trophy wife so he only has to take care of the kid(s) 50% of the time.

That...or the late 20's, early 30's guy who is not married and insists to all his married friends how dumb they are and how cool he is.

I'll further bet that he's one of the famous Dallas $30k millionaires mortgaged to the hilt.

F karaoke!

So while I was out.....

....I took note of a few things that were going on around me. One thing that I noticed was that there were two guys wearing sleeveless shirts. Two guys wearing sleeveless shirts is two too many! What would possess anyone to wear a sleeveless shirt out in public? I know you will never see me on the cover of GQ magazine but COME ON MAN, have some pride! Do you think they give discounts for not having to sew on sleeves? Does the guy that is singing karaoke saying to him that his shirt looks good as a return favor for sleeveless guy saying that karaoke guy sounded good on stage? Does sleeveless shirt guy look in the mirror before leaving the house or does he say to himself "no need to look, I know I am good?" Splain me?!

Agreed

I couldn't agree with you more. I don't know why I allow karaoke to whip me into complete submission but it does. The only good thing about it is when the "singer" suddenly morphs into the "dancer." It usually is good material for the blog when you have the avid karaoke-er doing the wave while singing Usher with all his might!

Good point....

...Lips. Bad kareoke is my nemesis. In fact anyone who takes kareoke seriously is my nemesis. ESPECIALLY those who choose to sing s-l-o-w songs. WHAT A FREAKIN WHIP! I think there should be a very short list of allowable songs to be sung at kareoke. That list should certainly include the following:
"Do Me" by Bel Biv Devoe
"Sweet Caroline" by Neil Diamond
"Yellow Submarine" by the Beatles
"Ring of Fire" by Johnny Cash

I'm sure there are others I've missed....but not many. Once that list is extinguished "Good night, have a good one, get the hell out. Concert OVER!"

Of course that's why American Idol and Flock of Seagull haircuts are around....too many "Yes" men. Not enough TRUTH!

Karaoke

Alright boys, here we go. So once again I find myself in a bar(surprise, surprise) that has karaoke. It never ceases to amaze me how many people actually think that they can sing. Unbelievable!!! I mean, who tells these people that they sound good? If I were a true friend and someone who couldn't sing asked me if they should go on stage, my response would be simple: "DUDE, you suck!" I am not being mean, I am being honest. That is what true friends are for. If I ever had the burning desire to go up on stage and put my vocal chords through an unexpected but intense maltreatment, I would hope that I would have one friend who would remind me that I suck. Now if it were for fun, joke or wager, then you have a pass. But for the other mopes that can't even hold a note in the shower, don't get on stage and think that you are magically transformed into Mariah Carey and this is your warm-up show before you go on your international tour. But then again if you didn't go up on stage then what would I write about on the blog? So I guess I can deflect the beating with the use of alcohol so, by all means, keep on truckin'.

Gimme...

A Luv Sammich.

Giddy up!

Cuttin' a rug!

Meanwhile, back at the club....

The grope is ON, son!

Evidently....

...St Louians don't appreciate a mini-van cab full of drunks screaming Bon Jovi's "Livin' on a Prayer" to them in a downtown traffic jam.

I don't get it.

No your eyes are not deceiving you...

...we did in fact run into the Dali Lama at Busch Stadium.

The butcher.

The drunk guy behind us that kept offering us his warm, salty nuts. Turned out ok though because after he tired of Pillowpants nonsensical gibber-gabber also offered free elbows to the back of PP's head!

...plus he was our bar guide after the game.

A few other pics from the great St. Louey!

One of the Mopes bought the other two mopes these shirts....appropriate for each! (I'll let you decide who's who).

Holla....

...at ya girl!
One of many St Louians gettin her groove on!!

Post-vacation blues

I am at a cross here. I just got back from St. Louis with two of the other three mopes and I am feeling a little odd. On one hand, I was ready to get back because my liver was in complete shock when I introduced it, to from what I can count, about 40 or so alcoholic products which included a large portion of Anheuser Busch beverages. I loved St. Louis but boy did I hate that Budweiser owns the f'ing town. Trying to find a Miller Lite was like the US soccer team trying to find a goal in the World Cup. It was terrible. I had to give in to the Bud products if I wanted to maintain any form of drunkenness. Nevertheless, I had a blast. We hit some of the major sites such as the Anheuser-Busch brewery, Busch Stadium, the Arch and, of course, the casino. All that squeezed into just two days along with drunken debauchery makes for a rough weekend. On the other hand I had to go back to work. The other slaves and I had great conversations about the weekend and how we all hated our jobs. The only positive thing I have to look forward to is that in just four short weeks we will be traveling to South Bend, Indiana to see the greatness of the Notre Dame Fighting Irish beat up on some Nittany Lions. So for now, I will continue to have random thoughts of wrapping my lips around the open end of a loaded double barrel shotgun on the way to work while, at the same time, waiting patiently for my trip to the Bend.

Yet another observation

Well, here I sit in the airport trying my damndest to recollect last night’s events through the thick, alcohol induced haze and I recall a conversation that the mopes and I had. So I look to you the faithful blog readers for support. The topic of man-bush manicures came up and there were some rather diverse options presented. I was kind of surprised at how many guys seemed to answer so quickly and automatically. I don’t think there was one guy who said that they didn’t manicure the man-lawn but upon further investigation I found that this topic runneth deeper than I initially thought. When the question was asked, I assumed it was a simple yes or no response that I was going to get but, boy, was I wrong. So apparently there are several different levels of grooming. From what I gathered, we have the shave bald with a razor blade including the sack, shaved with a blade on top but not including the sack, trimmed close with hair clippers, shaved down with an electric razor and au natural. So I am asking for a poll of some sort. What do the majority of mopes do? Is this a common task amongst guys? Am I thinking way too much about this? Am I in the minority in my actions? Fellow mopes, it is up to you to help the cause.

What is your level of man-bush grooming?

• 
  
  shave bald with a razor blade including the sack


• 
  
  shaved with a blade on top but not including the sack


• 
  
  trimmed close with hair clippers


• 
  
  shaved down with an electric razor and au natural

view results

Off to the ARCH!

Cards game, tour of the Arch, the brewery and of course gambling!
Giddy up!
And thanks for the airfare Cuban!

J-Will?!

Jason WIlliams?! The point guard of the Miami Heat was at Stingrays?! I hate that dude.

The Whigger

AKA White Chocolate. I can't, for the life of me, figure this out. What does this all mean? OK, so I am sitting in the bar last night when Deuce and I notice that it is karaoke night(a topic that deserves a blog of it's own). I notice the white guy heading towards the stage wearing what appeared to be jorts that were about 8 sizes too big for him, a white t-shirt that almost covered up his jorts entirely, a baseball cap that was backwards and to the right and had a bit of a limp. He made his way to the stage where he began his solo with "yo, yo, yo wuts up ya'll?" He threw out some more ebonics to the crowd which was his segway to, you guessed it, a country song. When he sang, his voice was suddenly normal. Almost had a country twang to it as well. Which leads me to my next question: Why is the whigger in existence? What drives these guys to want to be a different race so badly? Will the desire eventually get so intense that these whiggers will have skin tone changes opposite of what Michael Jackson did? Do the African Americans actually appreciate him or do they hate him? Any ideas fellow mopes?