(Jeezy can paint such a visual picture
with words; I’m not even going to comment on these. Enjoy. -KZ)
Classic Quotes of Jay “Young Jeezy” Jenkin “Fuck bad bitches, smoke big blunts who am I to tell ya different, ya only live once.” “Swear the feds just starin’ at a nigga!”  “Best be cool holmes, get my goon on.
Bust them tools holmes, get my news on…”
 “Best add 5 grams; that’s if you weigh it in plastic.”
 “I push the Yukon Wednesday, the dropped Vette Monday;
ice cream Impala, same color as a sundae.”
 “Might cook it on the stove, might cook it in the microwave;
Either way it’s gonna sell, still weigh it on the scale.”
 “The governor, bitch; I make Georgia look good.”
 “Three bands for a 9-piece chicken dinner.”
 “I can’t even lie yeah I fucked them hoes
trapped all day spent it all on clothes.”
 “The clientele in Minnesota, so is the Vikings.”
 “…nigga go broke and invest in a black mask.”
 “Entrepreneur, he found him a new craft…”
“Grand piano, might learn to play.
Hundred grand just to walk past it every day.”
 “…first of the month, yeah we call that “Bird Day.”
 “…never let em see you sweat;
cause if he search the trunk, he might find the Tec.”
 “Or a bag full of O’s;
wrapped in duct tape nigga between some dirty ass clothes.”
 “Popping gold bottles, yeah I took them sips…
 …50 in the trunk, yeah I took those trips.”
 “Keep the white girl, yeah forever my lady
Two grand flat get you four and a baby.”
 “Money in trashbags, call that garbage;
 20 pounds in a trash bag, the shit look like garbage.”
 “A .40 cal, rubberbands, and a shoebox
run through a hundred grand watching Matlock.”
 “Smoke purp by the pound, Goose by the fifth
Re-up on the first, and again on the fifth.”
“.25 for the throwaway, choppers by the door-way.”  “Eighty grand just to see the Jacob go tick tock”
“Def Jam, 7-figures we can finish the deal.”  “A hard head’ll make a soft ass;
and hard white’ll get you straight cash.”
 “The boy get new paper like the first day of school.”
 “Bury me in some Evisu jeans;
a USDA top and a throw-away Glock…
 …bury me a G, nothin more nothin less;
when I get where I’m goin, I just gotta be fresh.”
 “Seen bricks stacked tall as skyscrapers”
 “Mix the flake with the soda, got Young Jeezy.”
 “Inhaled so much llelo, lost my sense of smell.”
 “I’m a hater like you, fuck my wristband.”
 “I used to hit the kitchen lights; cockroaches everywhere.
Hit the kitchen lights, now it’s marble floors everywhere.”
 “I’m in the SL, looking real Coupe-ish .”
 “We was born in it;
not sworn in it.”
 “It’s kinda hard to be drug-free,
when Georgia Power won’t give a nigga lights free.”
 “I don’t live there; I just cook there.
Ain’t nothing in there, but Vision cookware.”
 “I’m Donald Trump in a white tee and white ones…”
 ”I want a new Bentley, my auntie need a kidney,
and if I let her pass her children never will forgive me.”
“Fruitopia, smoke blueberry.
Mix it with the purp, call it cranberry.”
 “Still smell the blow in my clothes;
like Krispy Kreme, I was cookin them O’s”
“Who gives a fuck about friends?
If you mix the baking soda wit it, you can get a Benz.”
 “In the rap game, takin’ niggaz clientèle;
white ones like the powder that I used to sell.”
 “You asked me kindly don’t bring the white in the house.
And then what I do? Bring the white in the house.”
 “Bricks in the attic, and you didn’t know.
Your grandson killin’ em; he getting 24.”
“Whole life flash right before your
eyes, See the state troopers, get butterflies.”
“Hat back, top back, ain’t nothin’ but a young thug.
HKs, AKs, I need to join a gun club.”
“A hundred grand on my wrist, yeah life sucks…
…fuck the club, dog,
I rather count a million bucks.”
 “I’m knee deep in the game;
So when it’s time to re-up I’m knee-deep in the cane.”
Can’t Ban the Snowman
Remember when school officials, law enforcement, and concerned parents got together and tried banning the snowman logo? Got you kicked out of school and damn sure stopped on the street. Freedom of expression was once again shunned in favor of political-correctness.
“My President is Black,
 my Lambo’s blue,
 …and I’ll be God-damned if my rims ain’t too.”
-KZ
Some of you are too young to remember the 80′s. The clothes were lame and the music sucked. Drug traffickers paid a lot less back then, and were able to operate without the headache of Homeland Security. I grew up on hair bands like Motley Crue, Guns N’ Roses, and Poison. This decade was also the whore mother of some of TV’s worst abortions. TV was bad back then, because nobody knew any better
Perfect Strangers: The worst of the worst. This show starred a guy named Larry, who’s foriegn cousin Balki came to stay with him…Chicago I think. Cousin Larry was by far, the biggest douchebag in TV history. No wonder he couldn’t teach Balki to fit in. The show’s producers decided that if they threw in a couple of poofy-haired 80′s ladies, viewers would stop focusing on how gay the pair seemed. It didn’t. This show was arguably the worst thing on television; ever.
 Family Ties:
Hippies-turned successful parents raising their kids in Columbus, Ohio. This show was basically a cockring for conservative politics in the 1980′s. Oldest son Alex (Michael J. Fox) is a republican shill; proudly praising Richard Nixon. No matter what the issue was, he always found friction with his family. Whether an episode was addressing
drugs or dating, it always got preachy. Leave this one buried in the time capsule.
 Golden Girls:
A group of elderly women gossiping, dating, and doing everything they probably shouldn’t, due to their ages. The show featured Bea Arthur, Betty White, Rue Mclanahan, and Estelle Getty (Wendy’s “Where’s the Beef” lady) sharing a home in Miami. The only thing enjoyable was the off-hand delivery of some of these women’s insults. Maybe it’s just me, but foul-mouthed old ladies are funny. Estelle Getty as Sophia gets the nod on this one; her family was mafia in Sicily, and she knew what happened to Jimmy Hoffa.
 Who’s The Boss?
Former baseball player moves his soon-to-be-hot daughter out of Brooklyn, to take a maid job for a woman in Fairfield, Conn. Antics ensue as the two families grow together. Ugh. I can only think of two good things that came out of this show. The death of Tony Danza’s career, and her:
 Growing Pains:
This was a big show at the time; but in retrospect, I can’t figure out why. It chronicles the lives of the Seaver family of Long Island, NY. Dad’s a work-from-home shrink, and mom is a reporter. Despite solidifying their place in pop culture, things didn’t end so well for the Seaver kids; Kirk Cameron found God, Tracey Gold found anorexia, and Jeremy Miller found a stalker (an older man who threatened to rape him.) The only redeeming quality of this show was when anyone mentioned Mike’s friend, “Boner.” That makes for a hell of a drinking game.
 Just the Ten of Us:
This one was a spin-off of Growing Pains. A Catholic high school basketball coach struggling to raise 8 kids. (It’s called ‘birth control’ people, learn about it!) Set in Eureka, California, this show was quick to disappoint on all levels. The silver lining came in the form of Coach Lubbock’s hot, jailbait teen daughters.
 Alf:
I can’t believe this show ran as long as it did. Yes…a hand puppet had ratings. See how lame the 80′s really were? Here we find a friendly alien crashing into a family’s garage in Riverside, California. They take him in, and hide him from the military. Alf tries countless times to eat the family cat. I personally would have shot him in the head on sight, and sold the whole mess to the National Enquirer.
 Punky Brewster:
After being abandoned by her mother (presumably for her fashion choices,) Penelope “Punky” Brewster goes to live with her foster father in Chicago. Antics ensue, and this young free spirit struggles her way through. She is eventually “officially” adopted. They
addressed the 1986 Challenger space shuttle explosion, even having Buzz Aldrin. The show pretty much sucked all around. On a positive note, Punky grew up to be hot. Damn!
 Small Wonder:
The show featured the Lawson family. Dad was a robotics engineer who secretly creates a robot modeled after a real human girl. They try to pass it off as their daughter. She lived in a cabinet in the son’s room. This robot girl attends school and makes adorable wisecracks while keeping the secret of her origins. I would hang myself if they ever brought this show back.
Born in 1978, I was young in the 80′s. I still remember the bad cartoons…
 The Smurfs:
The Smurfs have the distinguished honor of of being one of the best, and worst, cartoons of the 80′s. They live in Smurf Village, sing, march, and work as a socialist society. They have occasional brushes with evil wizard Gargamel, and his hungry cat Azrael. The plot was always the same, and Smurfs always found ways to escape capture. After a while, it just got boring; you knew how it was going to end.
 The Snorks:
The Snorks were basically low-rent, knock-off Smurfs. They happened to live under water, and had suspicious appendages protruding from their foreheads. When a Snork became excited, their tube would make a “snork” sound. Even as a young child, this show could never keep my attention. Good taste.
 Rainbow Brite:
Little girls in the 1980′s were sorely in need of a creative character; instead, they got Rainbow Brite (thanks a lot, Hallmark!) She came in the form of a little orphan girl named Wisp; taken by an unknown force to the Colorless World. While searching for the Sphere of Light, she befriends a sprite name Twink, and a majestic white horse known as Starlite. Wisp rescues the seven Color Kids, and finds the Color Belt; which she needs to bring color to the land. After using it to defeat the King of Shadows, an evil hooded being renames her Rainbow Brite. She and the Color Kids live in Rainbow Land. They are now in charge of all the colors on Earth. If it were possible to control color, I would stomp this brat into a puddle of fingerpaint and take that damn belt.
Shows like this make me glad it’s not 1984 anymore, I’m not a little girl, and I never have to waste brain power on this topic again.
-KZ
Top 10 Reasons Why Kids Should Admire Jay-Z 
1. He’s with Beyonce. There are plenty of reasons, but this is probably the best one. He kicks back with the hottest chick in the game.
2. The cars. Jay has evolved throughout the years. In that time, he has driven every hot car that’s been fashionable to drive. There has even been a GM line launched to match his proprietary color, Jay-Z Blue. After Bentleys, where else was there to go? It’s Maybach time. After copping the cars, Jay and Rick Ross did the soundtrack with “Maybach Music.”
 3. Imagine owning a night club in New York City. It’s stocked with personal friends and beautiful women. Your Grammy-winning music plays throughout the place. You’re dressed head-to-toe in clothing made by your clothing label. While working the room, you stop at a table to pose for a photo and have a shot. Like everyone else, you opt for a shot of your own brand of Scottish vodka. ”Armadale for everybody!”
4. Business saavy. Jay-Z topped the list of Forbes Magazine’s Top 20 Highest-Paid Rappers. He’s down slightly (like everyone else,) falling just short of his $80 million annual income. His business sense is honed razor sharp.
5. Connections. Jay hob-nobs with music producers, endless artists, pro athletes, CEOs, and politicians. His free time is very scarce; and expensive. Talent giant Grabow wants a minimum of $80,000 to book Jay for an event.
6. Talent. Besides being one of the best lyricists anywhere himself, Jay is the boss; with plenty of big name rappers at his disposal. Jay launched Kanye West, Beanie Siegel, Memphis Bleek, and Freeway. Amir, Ja Rule, and Rhianna are secondary. Island/Def Jam gives Rick Ross, Ludacris, and D.T.P. Duets with R. Kelly, Pimp C., Bun-B, Young Jeezy…this guy IS the music business.
 7. The Nets. Jay’s stake in the NBA is also huge. As part owner of the New Jersey Nets, he strives to combine hip-hop and fashion success with his team. Jay wants to move the team to Brooklyn, NY, but has been met with opposition (Difficult takes a day, impossible takes a week.) Imagine being remembered as the man who gave Brooklyn an NBA franchise? Props for life. Hov also stays in close contact with Cavs superstar Lebron James. This team is a dynasty in the making. Jay is handling location and logistics now; paving the way for his star to jet in from Cleveland.
 8. His principles. Despite all the yellow bottles we’ve seen with him in the past, Jay-Z is over Cristal. Cristal should have been paying Jay all along, for furthering the brand. Instead, they made smug, racist remarks about Jay’s affinity for it. Jay has switched over to “The Ace of Spades (Armand de Brignac.) The subliminal hit came when Jay sent back a bottle of Cristal in the “Show Me What You Got” video. Fuck ‘em, Jay; keep hustling.
 9. The awards. American Music Awards, BET Awards, BET Hip-Hop Awards, Billboard R&B Hip-Hop Awards, Blockbuster Entertainment Awards, Brit Awards, Grammy Awards, International Dance Music Awards, MOBO Awards, MTV VMA Awards, MTV Austrailia VMAs, MTV Europe Music Awards, MTV Japan VMA’s, NAACP Image Awards, Radio Music Award, Soul Train Awards, Soul Train Music Awards, Shockwaves NME Awards, Source Awards, Vibe Awards, WB Radio Music Awards, and World Music Awards. Props.
10. Summer Plans. Jay-Z is rumored to be gearing up for a 2010 tour with Young Jeezy. This pair-up will no doubt expose the grimey, drug-dealing side of Jay. I can’t wait. Throw Ricky Ross on that bill, and watch it sell out twice. Shit, T.I should be out by then. Luda maybe?
 There you have it. Jay should go crazy now and start his own religion. Well, maybe not…that’s really more of a Diddy thing to do.
-KZ
 It’s about time someone had the balls to do it. Protesters have begun throwing shoes at unpopular politicians. I’m shocked that some lame American heckler didn’t try something like this earlier. If I had been close, I’d have give an old-school jail house ‘baptism.’ Imagine the props I’d get in jail for getting my own feces on a President’s mouth, face, and shoulder? Shit, if they sent me to Gitmo for the stunt, I’d have all the Newports I could smoke! I would so brag about it between torture sessions and dreaded “cock-meat sandwiches.” I’d make Al-Zawahiri clean my cell, wash my draws, and buy my shit from commissary.
The SECOND funniest thing I have ever seen:  I stopped at Circe K for gas once. As I came out of the store and began pumping, I noticed two boys entering the lot. They were about 11-12 years old, and both were riding bikes. One of them suddenly cut his handlebars too sharp, and yes, he fell. His head made a loud smack sound as it recoiled off the pavement. After a second of processing it, he burst into tears. His friend looked at me, but I refused to get involved. I won’t allow today’s kids to “STRANGER DANGER” me for trying to help. I wanted to tell him that all he could do was rub it, and perhaps ask inside for some ice.
As he struggled to get his bike picked up, an unmarked Cuyahoga Falls police car turned in behind them. I looked away. The cop had that “I just ate shit” look on his face. He seemed annoyed that these kids were in his way as he short-cutted through the lot. I know, I’m a prick. I was their age once, and I’m sure I gave society plenty of free laughs with my clumsiness. Other people on the lot were laughing; at least I kept my composure at the time. I laughed later. The funny part isn’t that he got hurt…like I said, I felt bad for the kid! Seeing that kind of made me feel good though…usually I have the misfortune others get to laugh at. The suddenness of it is what made it the second funniest thing I’ve ever seen.
 The FUNNIEST thing I have ever seen….
I stopped for lunch with the crew. We were on Ft. Myers Beach, and decided on McDonalds. We ordered, got our food, and sat down in the back of the dining room. Across from us, was a scruffy young man. He had no food on the table, and from the time we first entered, he sat with his head down (on his folded arms.) As we ate, our conversation was suddenly
interrupted; SCHRRRRRRRRTTT!!!! This guy had collapsed from his chair. He’s now completely laid out on the dirty tile floor, arms covering his face. We jumped from our booth. I crept over him, wondering if he had died. My brother Rob cautioned me to back off, as it may be a trick. We went back around the corner to the front counter. I explained to the Mcmanager that ol’ boy had just fallen over and was laid out. He replys, “Shit…not again!” The manager went to the back, yelling at the guy to get up.
 As he shook and grabbed at his arms, the man shrugged away mumbling about “a few more minutes.” He tried to lie back down and be left alone! The manager finally got the guy to sit up in his chair. He explained that this couldn’t be tolerated any longer, and that perhaps it was time to move on. After some bickering on the subject (and threats of calling the police,) the man was on his way out. Again, the fact that this guy got hurt (if he did…seemed so high he was unable to register pain) was not what made it so funny. The loud screeching sound of his metal chair skidding on tile as he fell, will forever be burned in
my mind. Every now and then, I think back to that noise and get the giggles. Take a second; put yourself in my shoes for each situation…do they seem funnier now?
*Bonus*
 Random observation:
Chopped-and-Screwed music is ONLY enjoyable if you are
fucked up. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done…you just have to be impaired. If
sober, you won’t have the patience to listen to it (waiting for the chorus to
catch up, etc.) When you’re completely sideways, you’ll appreciate skips in your
cd.
-KZ
American culture is full of extremely cool people. Some are real; others are fictional characters.
Here are a few worthy of honorable mention:  Mike Tyson
Of NES “Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out” fame, this former heavyweight world champion has seen and done it all. He married Robin Givens; then beat the shit out of her. Tyson has been in and out pf prison on charges ranging from assault to rape. A tortured soul, nothing seems to be able to keep Mike down (except himself.) He shocked us all when he got part of an African tribal mask tattooed on his face. Iron Mike’s daughter recently died in an unfortunate treadmill accident in the home. He remarried the next week. Tyson gives hope to angry thugs everywhere.
 Ward Cleaver
Played by Hugh Beaumont, this man-of-the-house kept his shit on lock. He was almost certainly responsible for his son being nicknamed “Beaver.” This pipe-smoking player was greeted with dinner and a kiss from his subordinate wife the moment he stepped in the door. He kept a cool temper, even when son Wally got into shit with his goofball pal, Eddie Haskell. Ward’s pimp hand was rumored to be made of stone
 O-Dog
Caine’s sidekick in Menace II Society. America’s nightmare; young, black, and didn’t give a fuck. This cat has no qualms about murking two people within the first 3 minutes of the film. He hands out death sentences without hesitation throughout the course of a day. Other gangsters, convenience store clerks, gay crackheads…he’s quick to smoke anybody who offends him. This trait won’t get you very far in real life, but you must respect his conviction.
 Elmer Keith
This famed hunter and gun writer was one cool cat. He wrote nine books, and contributed to Guns & Ammo magazine for years. Mr. Keith also played a role in creating a shit-ton of different wildcat rounds. His first major contribution, the .357 Magnum, was the result of hand loading the .38 Special cartridge far beyond normally-accepted limits. He was also instrumental in the creation of the .44 Mag. During the war, he inspected rifles
at the Ogden, Utah arsenal. Keith once shot and killed a mule deer at a range of 600 yards using his 6-1/2″ S&W 29. Sadly, Mr. Keith died in 1984. He never had a chance to team up with Chuck Norris and make the greatest
movie ever.
 Hank Williams Jr.
Mr. Bo Cephus himself. This hell-raising hillbilly is the middle generation of a country music dynasty. His pot-smoking, whiskey-drinking ways have entertained America for years. (If interested, find the song “I Got Rights.” Hank describes buying a gun to kill a guilty man the
system let go.) I typically cringe at the sound of country music, but Hank makes it bearable.
Homer J. Simpson Perhaps the coolest character ever created. His devil-may-care attitude has inspired all of us to throw caution to the wind and live life to the fullest. This gun-toting father of three has told off his boss countless times, beat the shit out of an ex-President, and lives his life with reckless disregard. He’s bootlegged liquor during prohibition, blew up his
church, and driven a co-worker to suicide. Homer lives his life the way we wish we all could.  Venom
There was nothing special about Daily Globe reporter Eddie Brock, until this bad-ass alien suit oozed onto him; he became cool. Neither Spider-Man nor the Punisher could kill him. Real talk, if I had this suit, I would probably let it drag me down Del Prado Blvd…killing shit for no reason. The ‘living thing’ essence of the suit was captured perfectly in Spider-Man 3.
 Dagwood Bumstead
Dagwood has it all; a hot wife, a good job, two loving children, and a sandwich named after him. But life isn’t perfect for Dagwood; he suffers from crippling depression, and sometimes lies comatose on the couch with his back to the world. The most likely reason for his sadness is the rut he’s in; daily collisions with his mailman, carpooling to work with his uptight coworkers, and constant abuse from his asshole boss, Mr. Dithers. When he does get some free time, Dagwood loves nothing more than enjoying a 10-story sandwich and taking a nap; maybe catching a game on TV. Often, his relaxation is cut short by Blondie, bugging him to do chores. He’s also disrupted by Elmo; the goofy neighbor boy who seems to lets himself into the Bumstead home. Dagwood’s dog Daisy seems to wait for him to lie down before indicating that she needs to be walked. Let that man rest!
 Detective Andy Sippowicz
Ably played by Dennis Franz, this NYPD Blue first-grade homicide detective showed us what cops really are. Sippowicz was a drunk who frequently fell off the wagon. He was not a complete racist, but was certainly racially biased and set in his ways; crossing the line of acceptability on many occasions. Andy lost a few partners over the years, and had many chances to fire his gun in the line of duty. He called everybody a “skell” or “prick,” and was
no stranger to beating smart-ass suspects during interrogations. He did what any real man should do; bottle up all your emotional baggage and periodically let it explode.
 Dick Tracy
For a cop, this cat was pretty cool. He was good with the ladies and quick to pull a trigger. This no-nonsense lawman would probably just make a disapproving comment about “dope” if he caught you smoking herb; maybe tell you to put it out. Cops today would throw your ass in jail for a single cigar. I still have nightmares about the characters in the Dick Tracy movie…
-KZ
Seals may be fun to brutally murder, but a lot of other animals are also fun to kill; most of them deserving it. A bitch ass snake can certainly get it too. Snakes deserve to be shot just on principle. They are scary; and as we can all
agree, anything scary should just be killed as a first reaction (with no prior thought.) This is the difference between first and second degree murder charges. Some snakes are labeled “friendly,” and even helpful; eating insects, rodents, and other pests. Others swallow newborn babies and goats whole. Therefore, any snake should be treated as a deadly threat, and dealt with accordingly. One good method is snake shot.  These rounds are manufactured by CCI and are available for most popular handgun calibers. They are cartridges sealed with a plastic cap full of tiny steel shot, instead of a bullet. They are useless at long distances, and fire a doughnut-shaped pattern. They are quiet; the report is a resounding “PFFFFFFFT!” Shotguns are much noisier, but are also much more fun and effective for snake control. If you don’t value your own life, you may not own a gun. In a pinch, here are a few other ways to keep the homestead safe; and get that new leather belt you didn’t get for Father’s Day.
 Electric fence: Cool if it actually works, but who has one of these lying around? Guns are much handier and more plentiful. Plus, strict government regulations have been enacted recently to keep dangerous electric fences out of the hands of children and criminals. Another method is to hire Rambo to eradicate snakes on your property.
 Sylvester Stallone isn’t doing shit these days, so his rates should be pretty reasonable. He can stalk them silently for days at a time. The only down side, is that his liability insurance does not cover your boat or home; should one of his explosive-tipped darts miss it’s mark.
 Going back to shooting snakes: Meet the Bond Arms family of derringers. These pistols are well made, and come in a variety of calibers. This one fires .410 shot shell; sweet. I’d keep this one stashed in a bathroom drawer inside, while completely disintegrating snakes in the yard with a 12-gauge shotgun (much better suited for the job at hand.) Whatever weapon you decide on, killing snakes is always a good idea. I think we’ve covered snakes all we need to. Let’s move on, shall we? As I was saying, any species can get some…
 Here is a hog that defied me; rotting in his pen. I dumped my precious garbage scraps into a box out back. I knew I was smart to leave it with the pig; they’re aggressive, and I knew he would keep my rotten meat and produce safe from potential thieves. Wilbur here betrayed me; he ate my garbage. In my opinion, if a trusted member of your ‘family’ steals from you once, they will surely do it again. I was not going to give him another chance to do so. The next Tuesday, I clanged the slop bucket at lunch time to get his attention. I had filled the bucket with dirt and gravel (to get his hopes up; he had already gotten the last free meal from me that he would ever get.) As he snorted and nudged the bucket with his nose, looking for nutrition, I quickly unholstered my guns. I quietly muttered a racial slur at him in Italian, and emptied both guns on him at close range. I hit him with all sixteen .45-caliber bullets. The first shot had killed him instantly; but once I began, I figured I may as well finish what I had started.
I reholstered my left pistol, and reloaded my right; Duke had seen too much. I had originally planned on letting him live; to abide by the lesson about loyalty he had just learned. Then I said, “Fuck it.” “No witnesses.” He was probably deaf as a post now, too; on account of all the shooting. I raised the pistol and fired once in Duke’s direction, hitting him in the side. He howled and whined in pain; his face displayed a look of betrayal. Loyalty is a hell of a thing. I climbed into the pen. I kicked and stomped Wilbur a few more times to drive home my point about loyalty. Then I knelt by Duke. I explained that while I was loyal to him after all, some things were simply out of my control. I put the .45 in his mouth and squeezed the trigger 6 more times, completely destroying his head. It was time to wash up and have lunch.  Here’s a deer I nicknamed Precious. I had witnessed her trespassing on my land on several occasions. I used a scoped Winchester Model 70; chambered for the potent .30-06 round. One shot, one instant, beautiful kill. I made it a point to round up the rest of her family once deer season rolled around. Shooting baby deer is the most sporting; smaller target = harder to hit. Enjoy rotting in the death pen with Wilbur and Duke, Precious; at least your family can keep you company now.
 Here we have a black bear named Walter. This furry little bastard was found guilty in my court of law on the following charges: trespassing, eating my fruit without a permit, criminal menacing, being a bear on a Saturday, and public urination…on my property. Sentence: DEATH. I lured him to a tree stand on the center of my field with apples; he had stolen so many before (maybe 10-15,) that I knew he couldn’t resist. I shot him in the neck with a bow and arrow before he could change his mind about meeting with me. Awesome shot; the arrow nicked his spine, and incapacitated him immediately. Blood was spraying from the wound like a geyser. He let out a low roar; as if asking what he had done wrong. I took it as both a full confession and an apology; which is all I really ever wanted. Again, I had gone this far, so I had to finish it. I snapped the arrowhead off in his neck. I proceeded to tug him around in little circles by the fur on the top of his head; out of his pool of now-congealing blood. His eyes were barely open now, yet he still managed to be making noise; another punishable crime. I had to smack him hard on the snout just to keep him conscious for what was about to happen. I worked him over with my machete until all hope was gone. I eviscerated him, and left him in the open as a warning to other bears in the area (plus the death pen was already pretty full.) I’m proud to say that I have not seen another bear since. “FLAWLESS VICTORY.”
 This dumb shit’s name used to be Critter. Since he generally spent most of his days lying in this very position, I figured death wouldn’t be much of a stretch for him. He wouldn’t mind; I’d grant him his wish to sleep every day. I kept him chained to the bumper of an old Buick I had in the garage (one of my project cars) for about 20 hours each day. I got super pissed the last time I went out to work on the car. It was a humid, sunny day, and Critter had gone to the bathroom on the floor again; despite the fact that I had deprived him food and water for the past week to stop him from going. I’ve cleaned up after him twice already, and there was not going to be a third; but Critter had decided that
there would. I set down the box of car supplies (gold spray paint to touch up all the chrome parts and my spinner hubcaps (make my ride look fresh.) I did the math: I could clean up his small mess and remain at his mercy, or I could clean up a slightly larger mess, and solve the problem for good. I grabbed a latex glove from the ‘fresh ride’ box, and put it on. I picked up his mess; and held him down to stuff it in his mouth. (I realized that at this point that the mess had technically been cleaned up, but I suddenly smelled it; and my sense of smell had been offended.) I snatched a snow shovel off the pegboard wall and began raining blows down on his disrespectful face. I knew he had to pay the ultimate price for his indiscretions. Blood began to run out of him pretty steadily. I swung more; cursing and yelling in a blind rage. I slipped in the pile of dog shit I had just dropped, and nearly lost my footing. This made me even angrier at him, so I swung harder. I could tell he was just dying as I stopped; I could almost see the little ghost squiggle out of him skyward. Ironically, as Critter died, he shit himself again.
 Another elephant senselessly gunned down in the projects:
This elephant came to the hood last week to score a few dimes of weed. I had never seen him before, but knew that as an elephant, there was no conceivable way for him to be a cop. He gave me enough cash for three bags, but I decided to short him; just to see if I could get away with it (You know how elephants are; he’s only buying from me because he needs to. Everyone knows that elephants only spend their money with their own kind!) He began stomping and whining; swinging his trunk wildly. I asked him to keep it down; I didn’t need my neighbors sending the police around for a noise complaint. When he began bumping me with his head, I knew that shit was about to get live. I pulled my gun from the front of my pants, and aimed it directly at his face. I told him to go fuck his big elephant mama; suggesting that everyone else had, since she was a prostitute that worked for me. I didn’t wait for him to charge me; I just started dumping out bullets as fast as I could squeeze the trigger. He winced and tried to move back away from my door frame. As he turned to run, I was still shooting. Several of my shots hit him broad side; he was hurt bad. He staggered out to the street as I scooped up his dropped bags of herb and closed the door. I peeked out the front window just in time to see him collapse in front of the crack den next door; it was their problem now.
 A blueprint:
Be clear; an elephant isn’t as easy to kill as one might think. Their skulls are thick, brain well reinforced, and all other internal organs well-insulated. Up close, these big fuckers stand a fighting chance at self defense; so you have to make the wounds you inflict count. Many of my bullets had only hit him in the “meat.” I think it was my last five into his front/side that did him in. The cops still have no idea what happened to him; an elephant shot dead in the wrong neighborhood, with no cash. They probably think crack heads robbed him; it happens all the time around here. I don’t stress it, but I still keep my eyes open. The other day, I saw a car full of elephants on the next block; I wondered if they were looking to pay me back. As a precaution, I picked up an elephant gun from one of my homeboys last night. I’ll be ready if they come back.
 The mangled penguin: This little guy is (well, was) absolute proof that ANY animal can feel my wrath; for any reason. On a recent outing to the zoo, I was delighted to see that they had recently added penguins to their Arctic lineup. I felt such glee watching these merry little buggers diving, swimming, sliding on their bellies, flapping their little flippers, and marching around in circles. I decided I would take a photo to capture the moment. One bird stood out among the rest; and I vowed that he would be the subject of my photograph. He was larger that the rest and carried himself with a sense of pride; the noble alpha. He stood on a boulder above the rest as I waited for the digital camera to power up. As I aimed to capture the image, he suddenly dove from his perch, deep into the water below. I was convinced that this little bastard knew I wanted the picture, and simply refused to play ball. I waited a few moments for him to return to his spot, but he never did; instead opting to swim mindlessly against the glass in the back corner of his environment. My mind went blank; with knife suddenly in hand, I knew I was on track to do something awful to him in return. I was alone in the exhibit, and there was no lock on the door unto the ice. I made my move. I plunged into the freezing water and pinned him against the glass that he was so anxious to touch. He squeaked as I snatched him up and stepped onto the ice. Without thinking, I started stabbing him furiously. My Obsessive Compulsive Disorder found me counting to 37; surprisingly, that many knife wounds causes massive trauma to a small bird. Move #38 was to hold him in my left hand, while punching his soft belly with my right. Next, I ripped an air hose from the wall and stuffed it deep into one of his many wounds. The former object of my affection exploded. My final assault was to spike what little of him was left against the back wall. I finished my 40-count and ran like hell. I quickly made my way to a nearby men’s room to clean up; if I hurried, I could still stop and see the monkeys before closing time.
-KZ
Stupid seal. Swimming around, looking all delicious; it was his own fault, really. It was the perfect crime. The attack happened in the middle of the ocean; where forensic evidence quickly washes away and there are a lot of killers to pin it on.
 The first suspect was this lady. She fits the description of the whale, has knowledge of marine biology, and had access to the crime scene. She was cleared however, when detectives saw how nice she was to these birds; and her Sea World timecard indicated that she was stuck at work at the time of the attack.
 This trainer was spotted nearby. She is a known accomplice of several killer whales. She may have been complicit in the crime, but the surveillance photo of the attack did not show her. Sea World management has allegedly disciplined her several times; once in 1984 for zapping corralled dolphins with a cattle prod; charges are pending.
 Police discovered these blood-stained polar bears in the park. Local media rushed to judgment and incorrectly reported that the bears had been caught “red-handed.” Intense interrogations and DNA testing revealed that the bears did not murder the seal, but they do like fish. The news outlet has yet to issue a retraction. The search for the killer continues.
 This just in: A correction from a story we told you about last night. James the polar bear and his family were cleared as suspects in the murder of a local seal. We incorrectly reported that they were in fact the killers. While James and his family have admitted that they like fish, police tell us they were securely locked in their habitat eating other animals; and could not have committed that crime. We apologize for the mix-up, and will continue to bring you more of this story as it develops. –The News
 Wait, Sea World doesn’t even have sharks. Well, they should. The shark is such a bad ass, he is beyond prosecution; a cold-blooded killer. Sharks are aggressive and never surrender; they almost ALWAYS prefer death to jail. This Great White is so brazen; he even stops to smile at the camera while he devours a lesser animal. Good for him.
 Yep, it was definitely this guy. Well, I hope they pin it on this guy. Despite a killer whale clearly being photographed committing the murder, this guy confessed. He named names, implicated coworkers, and led authorities to a dead seal. Poor police work, incompetent legal representation, and an overzealous prosecutor were enough to put him away for a long time; or at least earn him a hefty fine. His pool boy, too.
-KZ
Some news headlines that have turned my stomach recently:
“7 hospitals in NY accused of $50M Medicaid fraud”
The fact that this was even able to happen makes me sad, and removes all hope of things improving. Keep letting the system pay itself, and this will keep happening. Our government continues to funnel our tax dollars into the hands of a select few (branches of itself,) then wonders why they keep ending up getting screwed. Then they pass the screwing back to us; the tax payers.
Somehow, I paid to bail out GM; twice. I don’t own any factories or machines now; I can’t even afford a new GM vehicle. What exactly did our government force me to pay for?
”Bernard Madoff arrested over alleged $50 billion fraud”
This douche bag should be tried for treason. At very minimum, he should face manslaughter charges; as several of his victims have committed suicide. (Depraved indifference, maybe?) Instead, he’s allowed to stay holed up in the $7 million home that his fraud bought him. It only takes one shot to start a revolution…
"Burris declares he's a senator..."
Dude. You lied about having an arrangement with Blago. Then you declare yourself Senator. Then, you admit there was an arrangement (but not one to buy Obama’s Senate seat.) For all we know, you WERE the guy he picked for it. Then you just show up at work. You got brass ones.
“Burris Denied Entry At U.S. Senate”
No shit? You’re lucky that some of those old-school Senators didn’t kick your ass for weaseling your way into office.
Your legacy will be tainted forever.
"Franken declares he's a senator..."Jackass. Douche. Just declaring it does not make it so; wait for the recount results. I guess being the first to claim it in a close election gets people used to the idea before the votes are actually recounted.
“Coleman sues over Minnesota Senate recount result”
Sue all you want. Didn’t you hear? Franken declared that HE was Senator. He called public office like “shotgun” on a car ride.
"OBAMA: ECONOMY 'GETTING WORSE'..."Yeah, no shit. Americans continue to lose jobs and homes while fat cat politicians blow BILLIONS of dollars that you gave them. Mail $2,010 to everybody in America; our economy will
fix itself.
“Lance Armstrong Hints at Run for Political Office” You can ride a bike and you managed to beat cancer; is that what qualifies you to be a Senator now? You my friend, have ambitions that far outweigh your qualifications.
-KZ
New York + money = Diddy. 
 R-really? What a ridiculous accessory. How much did you blow on that stupid-ass thing? My guess is that you had some poor aid carry it around all night when not in use. Or worse, you held that gaudy thing up during most of the game. I’ll bet Nelly was smart enough to leave his gigantic basketball shoe cell phone cradle at home where it belonged. Dropping ridiculous amounts of money on dumb shit like this does not impress those around you; it confirms how out of touch with your common man you really are. Like wearing an iced-out Cartier watch to volunteer at a soup kitchen. They don’t respect you because of shit like that; half start plotting on you, the other half figure you think your better than them.
With all the anti-gun politicians and Democrats you hobnob with, you probably had to borrow a gun from you’re your personal security detail to take this photo. Puff, stick to letting others pull triggers for you; it’s unbecoming.
 I just don’t see you cutting your Hamptons lunch date with Martha Stewart short to commit murder.
Vote or Die!
It was noble that you were so interested in motivating young people to vote a few years back. Prediction: Give it five years; Diddy will formally enter politics. Senator Combs; sounds good, doesn’t it?
Puff, you sure you know what you’re doing there? Did her gravitational pull draw you in or is that your flavor? I heard you wild out at parties, but damn!
\LA? You from the West now, Diddy? Was this a promotional photo to stop the violence? Nobody is bound to limit themselves to one team or coast, but… Was this shot taken while you were in LA? I’m guessing you wouldn’t show up in Brooklyn with that hat on; riots would ensue. You wear Boston Red Sox hats to Yankee games, too? Jay-Z is more conscientious about how he appears to others; he realizes that STREETS IS WATCHIN!
 Yeah, we all know that you spend a grip on the finest designer clothing available. Real talk, you look ridiculous in this fit. Only select people can pull off ANY outfit they wear (Busta Rhymes comes to mind.) You’re not one of those people. Tailor-made suits look good, but Archbishop Don Magic Juan couldn’t pull this one off. The shades are lame, and the pacifier makes you look like an immature asshole; not a billionaire businessman. You’re keeping pace with guys like Warren Buffet, not a Mississippi pimp; “Fashion Fail” on this one.
By contrast; this suit is perfect. It says rich, stylish, confident, and admired. The pink one says: “Prince sent me these glasses; he thinks I have a keen fashion sense.”
 Fat and scrawny at the same time. Puff, we’ve had to put up with you flashing that bird chest since the “Big Poppa” video. Tone it up, and button a damn shirt over it. End of story. The problem is, you still see yourself as a heartthrob; that’s a big part of why the record sales slowed down. Male hip-hop fans don’t give a shit about your shiney, shaved chest and gut. Grow up.
 ”Puff, don’t ever sell out, ya dig? Please, man. No matter what…”
Man, I wish BIG was still around. Imagine the amazing albums he could have released over the years? Diddy would still be selling records, too. I acknowledge that his first CD was HOT; but it seems like he fell off after that. As he got more successful in the business world, shot-caller lyrics (over increasingly poppy beats) became harder to believe. Diddy’s been behind some good acts, as well as some major flops. Clothing lines, fragrances, restaurants, charities, television shows….nothing but respect. But BIG seemed to keep you grounded in reality; you seem to prefer being a brand/image/company/mogul/host/celebrity rather than a normal person that people can talk to. You’re probably well-insulated with yes-men. Don’t let that money drive you crazy like it did Michael Jackson. You’re not better than the rest of us; just richer. You can’t buy your way into Heaven.
 You can’t knock Diddy too hard, though. He got that:
Not only that, but he got her in the prime of (and launched) her career (before the baby and short haircut.)
I give Diddy nothing but respect; but he can get it (the truth/real talk) just like anybody else I mention. His successes far outweigh his wasteful misuse of funds and a few poor clothing choices.
-KZ
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