Posted 12:01 PM by Anonymous

so I get a call from my punk ass nephew this morning, or last nite, I don’t know, fuck it, I was drunk off my ass.

“wuddup uncle.” That was him. It may sound weird to you, but local style, even though I’m not local, well, we whut been here for a spell though, bleh, I don’t feel like explaining it, anywaaaayyy, just saying “uncle” instead of like “uncle jehosophat” is common here. Trust me. And move on.

To which I replied “Keith.” No more. No less. That’s the kid’s name, or one of em. We both knew it might be a tense moment. I had betrayed my own blood for money. Ok, my sister’s blood, and, well, I never really liked the kid anyway, but we both learned the art of articulation from granny Carlisle, and, well, there was a connection of verbage, but, shit, mo money mo something or other.

“I’m thinking that everything worked out for the best. In fact, I can’t think of a more proper and beatific way for the progress of the page, the empire, to have gone.” Him.

“are you nuts? You got pushed out! The kingpin owns your shit! He suge knighted you out of the pictura, comprende? Damn, you always were stupid.” Me.

“suge knight, uncle? Heh. apt comparison, actually. Who you see droppin more bombs now you decrapitated relic? Dr. dre? Snoop dogg? Or suge muthafucking knight? Suge’s a strongarm punk with a dilapidated line-up.” Him.

“hey, hold up, you can’t…” me, trying to interrupt.

“hey, shut up. Lemme finish. That’s where the parralelogram ends. Carlton, yes, Carlton, may be a metaphorical Suge Knight, a big pocketed jack handy imitator, but the stable, the front line, it’s, incredible, maybe that’s what I always lacked, the organizational skills, the charisma, maybe talent isn’t whut it’s all about, you gotta be able to communicate…” he was lost in some tangential orbit, typical dreamer, prolly the thing that always irked me about the kid.

“whut in the jack fuck are you talking about?”

“uh, nothing. Hmmm.” It seemed he was reevaluating the degree of revelation he was gonna drop. “I loved True’s post. Loved it. Maybe the best thing that ever appeared on the site. Maybe definitely. Definitely maybe. I don’t know. I do know that with me in charge it probably never would have happened. And I know that everything…” he stopped again.

I was about to say something, suddenly it felt important to keep him on the line, but the booze, I felt woozy, disjointed, moreso than I had just minutes earlier.

“tell carlton I said keep up the good werk,” were his last words before the line went dead.

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