It was almost like it was yesterday…
Hell, it was yesterday. Ass beatings never disappear in my house ;__;
so while we’re bonding over black traditions, why do black people refuse to tip
Not technically.
This is how black kids first learned not to snitch.
Black people I’ve been out with tip.
Whats a tip?
Cuz fuck the white man, that’s why.
[media=youtube]OeS4gSJ9hxc[/media]
I only tip girls with phat booties good
Tip of the dick? That’s how niggas’ lives get fucked up, giving bitches the tip.
Hm is this really a stereo type? Back when I was a waitress I got tipped by people of all colors…
Except for Indian people. 0_0
I love Eddie.
His theme just makes people shit themselves
Odds are if a black dude tipped you well its cause he thinks your cute.
Me personally I’m not so heartless and unfair that I would only tip cute girls.
So I just dont tip at all >.>
Native Americans or India Indians?
It’s an old one. Less prevalent now but it happens. Some in my family don’t
Reminds me of Ace
[media=youtube]Z-qV9wVGb38[/media]
Cuz I’ve paid already.
Indians, Persians, and Middle Eastern people are kind of known to not tip.
Shanaqaris is my new desktop/lord and savior. I’ve been trying to figure out who that is from GGPO, because all of his posts have me dying.
My brothers were the ones who received the yellings-at (all from mom, my father’s far too quiet and reasoning than my mother, who can get hot-headed and incredibly stubborn). I just never got in trouble very often. When I did, it was in tones of worry and disappointment that dug deeper than shouting.
Uhhhh Indian Indians!
Not the native American kind. If that makes sense. @_@
Oh yeah, children’s ass whoopings. I didn’t get a lot of that. I got one as a kid and was like “never again”. I was real smooth-like…rarely got beatings.
My brother on the other hand…well, he was like the “riley” of the two of us. Always got in trouble, always caught an ass whooping.
The funniest ass whooping I ever seen though…for all of fall, my father kept telling my brother to put on his coat before he went outside, so that he wouldn’t catch a cold. My brother never listened. One time in the evening my dad was out and my bro had to pick something up from a friend across the street - pretty much 20 steps away from home. Since my dad was out and my brother was going to be outside for only 2 minutes, he chose to forgo the coat. I watch him leave the front door and cross the street, but before he got all the way he stopped in the middle of the road because he was being blinded by the headlights of an oncoming car. The car stopped in front of him and the door opened.
Before either of us realized what was going on a blur blazed across the road and grabbed my brother. It was my dad. “I TOLD YOU TO WEAR YOUR COAT, AND YOU DELIBERATELY CHOSE TO IGNORE ME!” What proceeded was the biggest ass whooping. Right in the middle of the street, the car chilling in the road, lights still on and keys still in the ignition. My brothers screams of pain pierced the night sky. Lord knows the neighbours heard. My dad dragged him back into the house and saw me in the front door…shit.
Now I’m sure the black people know about this but for everyone else, parents have this thing called warning licks. It’s when they see someone else doing some stupid shit that they’d catch a beatdown for and you’re unfortunately in the vicinity. Just because you’re nearby someone else acting up, they might whoop your ass *as a warning *to not follow in the offender’s footsteps. And you don’t even have to do anything! Anyway, my dad looks at me dead in the eye and I can smell warning licks from a mile away.
“Did you know he was going out?”
“…yeah…”
“And you didn’t tell him to wear his coat?!?” eyes flash, I’m about to get super’d
I look at my brother. His face is marred by dried tears and fresh ones still streaming down his cheeks. His eyes plead with me to spare him some of the pain.
Sorry, bro. *Take one for the Team *wasn’t being released until 7 years later, and I’m surely not taking the fall tonight.
“I did! He didn’t bother though, because he was only going across the street”
My dad looks me in the eye and decides I’m telling the truth. He tosses my brother in the front door.
“I’ll be back”
He goes back to the car which is still chilling in the middle of the street, door open, keys on in the ignition. He parks it and heads back into the house.
I don’t remember if there was a round 2.
Good times.