Category: Things Hazy Hates


It’s been a while since I’ve posted about something that I hate. This was supposed to be a series, not just a one post thing. But what can I say, its been a good few months…nothing to really hate…UNTIL NOW…I kinda hate ponytails. I know, I know…its not fair yea, maybe not, but its perfectly warranted.

SO I’m on the train, doing my New York City kid thing. Ipod on, lookin fly, waitin to get to my destination…I’m standing holding on to a poll just surveying the car and lo and behold I gazed upon a stunning beauty sitting down doing her New York sexy black chick thing. Ipod on, weave in tact (just kidding just kidding…it was real…I think…), sexy body, preety face, lookin scrumdiddlyumptious….My mouth almost dropped open but I was like na, aint no way I could bag a girl like that. I almost turned away but before I did, our eyes met, and she smiled. Word??? She smiled??? She sure did…that right there is an invitation. I gathered up my loins and got ready to scoop…

Right when I was about to, a lady standing near me intervened. This quite attractive lady had an obnoxious and overly long ponytail. For some odd reason she decided that this would be the PERFECT time to swing her head around as quickily as she could. And of course her ponytail followed like a whip…For NO intents and purposes, she whipped her hair back and forth (shouts to Willow Smith you talented little elf you). The result is that that behemoth of a ponytail whipped me in the eyes and effectively blinded me. The results you ask? Well let me break it down for you:

1. I let out an aggravated scream that sounded like, “Aahhhahrgharrr”

2. I was visually crippled for at least 1-10 mins

3. When I did get some vision back, I saw through watery eyes that Sexy Black Chick with a Nice Smile was gone…she apparently got off at the next train stop.

4. The crazy ponytail lady was looking at me as if I was crazy. Me!? Nooo…youuu’re crazy for having a long ass ponytail that hurts people. No one has been whipped like I had since Harriet Tubman was swiping Metrocards in the Underground Railroad…

5. I went to my internship at Jamaica Hospital, with red eyes and continuing to laugh at the stupidest things the kids I work with did…Long story short, one of my co-workers asked me if I was high, and many people gave me strange looks…

So in conclusion, I’d like to say thank you, bitch ass ponytail for ruining my chances with a hot girl and making me look like a pothead…but…I get the last laugh ponytails. You know why? Because at the end of the day, you make the back of a woman’s head look like a horse’s ass…

can you tell the difference?

hmmmmm???
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Gold diggers…

http://s1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb413/gjhaynes2315/?action=view&current=Video17.mp4

The video I’m sharing with you all here is just a random moment spent with some friends in the Caf at Fordham’s Lincoln Center campus. As I bitterly rewatched some of the videos  that I’ve collected cursing my serious boredom and disdain for my inability to sleep (I have a very annoying case of insomnia), I stumbled upon this video whose ending brought something to my attention…I hate gold digging females…

“Woman are like buses…you have to pay for them to ride them.” YEEES YES, I know, the joke was made in poor taste and that doesn’t really express my mentality toward girls, just a bro moment people…nothing more. But it does bring to mind an interesting idea. There really are some girls that have that mentality. “Your money will be spent if you’re gonna be with me.” I’m not talking about working your way into women’s draws gentlemen out there, I’m just talking about girls who legit think that my money, is their money OR that my money will inevitably be their money…WRONG **INSERT EXPLETIVE HERE THAT IS EQUIVALENT TO “FEMALE DOG”**.

Tell me why I went out on a date with a girl recently and lo and behold, she brought a friend. A young boy by the name of Dyquan….HER SON. OK…so…needless to say, I was a little thrown off, but hey, I’m a nice guy…and it had been a while…a long while…So I decided, what the hell, we’d all hang together. It’s the least I can do since homegirl doesn’t know who Dyquan’s father is….sorry…cheapshot. Anyway, I planned to take them to the movies…She had other plans….By the time I looked around, I found myself in a Sears at King’s Plaza Mall. We spent at least 4 hours, shopping for clothes for the boy. (Who, by the way, tied my sneakers together when I fell asleep on a nearby couch in the store and caused me to have a very nasty fall…I know in 17 years, he’ll be in prison….Delinquent…) We finally get to the register and the woman behind it says, “Ok, you’re total is $489.78. Do you have a Sears card?” My date responded, “No.” At this point young Delinquent Dy-Dy begin to complain about something regarding urine and apple juice, so his mother turned to me and said the following: “Ima take Dy-Dy to da baffroom. You gonna take care of this?” I snapped out of my lack of interest at this point and said, “Take care of what?” And she said matter of factly, “Uh… the bill. You fuckin’ payin’ attention?” I responded, “No…I tuned out when you decided to bring your son, who you mentioned nothing about prior to about 5 hours ago, to our first date.” She of course answered, “Listen, nigga, I ain’t got time for this, just pay the bill so we can be on our way.” My mouth literally dropped. She wanted ME to pay the bill! Damn-near $500 worth of random shit from Sears. First of all, who the hell spends fuckin’ $500 on clothes at Sears anymore? Bitch, you better hit a thrift store real quick! Secondly, and most importantly, I didn’t even know her like that. And I surely didn’t give a rat’s ass about her son. Needless to say, I decided to let the asshole within shine through. “Listen, I’ve had about enough of this shitshow of a date. No way you’re gonna stick me with the bill when I barely know your ass and I know your dipstick son here even less. I’m out.” I began to walk away. She began to yell….”Whatchu mean you don’t know me!? We been talkin Greg, I know you.” I turned around, and shouted back, “What’s my last name?” She responded with a smile, “Harris!” I responded with a middle finger because it’s “Haynes” and that was the end of that, I booked it out of that store for fear that my middle finger would cause her to pull out a weapon and went home….Sooo the point of that long story was that I’m starting a list called Things Hazy Hates…first on the list….Gold digging female dogs…

Just to make this a lil more interesting…I picked a song from youtube that I think we’re all familiar with that goes perfectly with this story…Enjoy…