thug life. on this, the anniversary of tupac's death. or perhaps, non-death (as james insists), let's talk about thugs and how they live. actually, i really shouldn't because i don't know any thugs. i don't know how they live. all i know about the proverbial "thug life" is what i get on tv. and that includes guns, swearing, tattoos, lots of yelling, and once in awhile, some fighting. my stereotyped image of thugs is all messed up by the media. in my sheltered suburban middle class upbringing, the closest i've ever come to real life thugs are those really mean people sitting in the corner. you know, the ones wearing the fifty dollar socks, the hundred dollar sunglasses (this is at night mind you), sipping on that ten dollar drink, after they've paid twenty dollars to get in to glower subversively.



apparently being a thug means you have money because otherwise, how could you go out much to cause trouble if you have no dough? note to self: go out more, try to start shit, get paid. *bada bing* anyway. the deal with little boys who want to be hard. i'm not really understanding it. sure, if you're insecure and sensitive and little trivial things tend to bother you alot, i understand. the world is out to get you and a conspiracy is afoot. but for the other ninety three percent of you with less than real life gripes, cheer up man. live a little. eat gummy bears. write poetry. dress in all white, it's liberating. i feel like the emasculated asian male population often suffers from this problem. not enough gummy bears. too much drama. it probably doesn't help much that we're only portrayed as little kung-fu kids by the mass media. "hey! we can't only do kung-fu! we can push each other around too! see! see!" thugs are always so rude too. no manners. impolite. i suppose a polite thug would be ousted from the lollipop guild. and then his self esteem and rep would suffer. well whatever. i ain't mad atcha.