This post goes out to all the white people who live in damn near all-white areas and encounter a black person 2, 3 times a year tops. This one’s for you.
As I sat in Starbucks on my laptop smashing some oatmeal cookies Sunday night, a man comes in. White, middle aged, disheveled looking, but nothing out of the ordinary in Highland Park, where I live. I was at Starbucks because my internet was down for some crazy ass reason and I needed to finish some work and do some stuff for the blog. Well, backtrack. First it was only me and this white girl in there out of the whole coffee shop. There is a long couch that’s a good 14 feet long. She sat at one end, and I sat down at the other. In 30 seconds she got up and moved ALL the way over to the other side of the coffee shop. I guess a black man in medical scrubs is intimidating to her.
Anyways, so I have the whole couch to myself when this guy comes in. He proceeds to sit as close as he humanly could to me it seems, and keeps glancing at me. I’m zoning out typing so I’m not really paying him any mind. Then after about 2 minutes he breaks my concentration with a question:
“Hey, do you like reggae?”
I gave this dude the side-eye from hell. In my mind I was thinking to myself, “where in the hell is this line of questioning going?” So I responded,
“Nope. I hate it.”
Then he comes back with
“Well what about rap and R&B?”
Now I’m pretty much glaring down this dude trying to decide whether I should chop his ass in the throat or dump his coffee on his head…and then chop his ass in the throat. But I just respond
“Nope. I listen to blues, music from the 20s, 30s, and 40’s.”
I said this in hopes he would stop asking me questions, or basically shut the hell up talking to me. But he had to finish it off with this:
“Oh I just thought you listened to reggae because you look like a soulful person.”
What the fuck does that even mean? How does someone hammering away angrily on a laptop look soulful? That’s about the dumbest shit I ever heard, this month.
Listen white people, if you don’t encounter black people often, here’s a tip. Talk to us the same exact way you would a white person. Don’t come at us saying “What’s up bro” or “dog” or any unnecessary slang to make yourself look cool. It’s hella offensive and we immediately label you are either retarded or racist, sometimes both. So if you are about to say something to a black person you don’t know, ask yourself these things:
Am I asking because they are black?
Is this in any way associated with any stereotypes?
If the answer is no to both, then go ahead. But don’t be that guy or that silly ass racist chick either.
I should have stolen her purse.
by Colin Miller
It’s no secret that women are dumb (Except for you, baby!…s–t, there goes another one), but here in Highland Park, Illinois, every day is like a journey into the mind of an autistic giraffe. For example, a particularly DWB sits behind me in my AP Psych class. The teacher was explaining how drugs cause your body to unnaturally release chemicals to make us feel a certain way, giving the example of how heroin floods your body with endorphins, which you then crave making the drug addictive. The DWB raised her hand, and in a voice like a jewish dolphin with a shoddy nose job asked:
“So, like, you feel good when you’re high, and then its, like, bad when you crash?”
Yes. It is, in fact, bad to not feel good. Dumb White B—h.
This same DWB had previously asked during an animation of fetal development, “Why does the baby only have one eye?” The video was the side view of the fetus. Dumb White B—h.
I can thank another teacher for giving me such sparkling gems of fecal wisdom as, “It’s not rocket scientry, guys,” and “The line where you write the money for the check is its legal tenure.” It’s like the former president himself is teaching the class. Dumb White B—h.
Stay tuned for more DWB updates next week, and be glad you don’t live here.