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I was walking back from lunch a few mins ago and noticed one of the many t-shirt stands here in manhattan that are selling those stupid "I survived the blackout of 2003" t-shirts.
So I get a quick glimpse of a not so friendly t-shirt that actually hit a nerve with me....and it said this:
"First 9/11, then the blackout of 2003. What next?"
Who in their right fucking minds would have the nerve to create a shirt like that?
And people would actually be stupid enough to go & buy that!!! That took a lot of balls to create a shirt like that.
Yeah, I'm peeved...but not as pissed as my signif other who would've went over to him & tore him a new asshole, had he not been in a lot of pain w/his back....
:mad::mad:
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I actually saw one of these...
In my own house.
My sister bought one of these. She was down in the area when 9/11 happened, but her fat ass was at my aunt's house in the Hamptons when the blackout hit. She sat in the pool playing with my niece and nephew for 5 hours surrounded by tiki torches while the lights were out.
I on the other hand, was stuck by Battery Park and it took me 6 hours to get home Then I had to walk up the 6 flights and sit in the dark all night because the power was out for 17 1/2 hours by me.
I actualy whiped my sister in the face with her shirt. Both because it disgust me any time someone profits off of 9/11, and when people use it as a badge of honor when they were safe.
Scumbags
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Quote:who would've went over to him & tore him a new asshole, had he not been in a lot of pain w/his back....
that sounds like me,
I would be such an ass kicker if it wasn't for my bad back and other assorted ailments which always flare up when danger shows it's ugly head.
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Quote:Originally posted by KensPen
Quote:who would've went over to him & tore him a new asshole, had he not been in a lot of pain w/his back....
that sounds like me,
I would be such an ass kicker if it wasn't for my bad back and other assorted ailments which always flare up when danger shows it's ugly head.
:lol:
Shit, I think Ive done that to two of Kens posts today. Damn it.
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<marquee><font size=1 color=blue><b>Some people are like Slinkies . . . not really good for anything, but you still can't help but smile when you see one tumble down the stairs. </b></font></marquee><marquee><font size=1 color=green><b> Yo I can't sing it I feel like singin I wanna fucking sing Cos i'm happy Yeh, i'm happy HaHa I got my baby back Yo, check it out Some days i sit, staring out the window Watchin' this world pass me by Sometimes i think theres nothing to live for I almost break down and cry Somtimes i think i'm crazy I'm crazy, oh so crazy Why am i here, am i just wasting my time? But then i see my baby Suddenly i'm not crazy It all makes sense when i look into her eyes Somtimes it feels like the world's on my shoulders Everyone's leaning on me Cos sometimes it feels like the world's almost over But then she come back to me My baby girl [hailey laughs] keeps gettin' older I watch her grow up with pride People make jokes, cos they don't understand me They just dont see my real side I act like shit, dont phase me, Inside it drives me crazy My insecurities could eat me alive But then i see my baby Suddenly i'm not crazy It all makes sense when i look into her eyes Yeh and if i could sing, i'd keep singing this song to my daughter If i could hit the notes, i'd blow something as long as my father To show her how i feel about her, how proud i am that i got 'er God, im a daddy, im so glad that her mum didn't (abort her) Now you prob'ly get this picture from my public persona That i'm a pistol-packing drug-addict who bags on his momma, But i wanna just take this time out to be perfectly honest Cos there's a lot of shit i keep bottled that hurts deep inside o' ma soul, And just know that i grow colder the older i grow This boulder on my shoulder that gets heavy and harder to hold And this load is like the weight of the world And i think my neck is breaking should i just give up Or try to live up to these expectations? now look, I love my daughter more than life in itself, But i got a wife who's determined to make my life living hell But i handle it well, given the circumstances i'm dealt So many chances, man, it's too bad, coulda had someone else But the years that i've wasted are nothing to the tears that ive tasted So here's what im facin: 3 felonies, 6 years of probation I've went to jail for this woman, i've been to bat for this woman I've taken bats to people' backs, bent over backwards for this woman Man, i shoulda seen it comin, what i stick my penis uppin? Woulda ripped the pre-nup if i'd seen what she was fuckin But fuck it, it's over, there's no more reason to cry no more I got my baby, maybe the only lady that i adore, haley So sayonara, try tomorra, nice to know ya My baby's travelled back to the arms of her rightful owner And suddenly it seems that my shoulder blades have just shifted Its like the greatest gift you can get The weight has been lifted Woow! I told you, i can't sing. Oh well, i tried Haley, remember when i said If you ever need anything, daddy will be right there? Well guess what, daddy's here. And i ain't goin nowhere baby I love you (kiss)</b></font></marquee><marquee><font size=1 color=yellow><b>We’ve been waitin’ for a long time Yes, we’ve been waitin’ for a long, long time We’ve been waitin’ for a long time But we ain’t gonna wait no more We’re getting’ ready to rock & roll We’re gonna - 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3! Well, there’s a reason everybody should be shakin’ in the house tonight And you should grab your favorite lady and promise her you’ll do it right. Tell Fat Jack to jump back and give you a shot of some booze So you can party to some stomp-down, butt-bumpin’, rock & roll, rhythm & blues. ‘Cause the boys are back in town. The boys are back in town. I know that everybody when they hear the music will be doin’ it on the floor Jump up and down they turn around and tell the band to play some more ‘Cause tonight you can dance and romance and do anything you feel like doin’ But don’t look surprised ‘cause you know what I like and tonight we ought to do it ‘Cause the boys are back in town. The boys are back in town. Oh, yeah. Well, there’s a reason everybody should be shakin’ in the house tonight And you should grab your favorite lady and promise her you’ll do it right Tell Fat Jack to jump back and give you a shot of some booze So you can party to some stomp-down, butt-bumpin’, rock & roll, rhythm & blues. ‘Cause the boys are back in town. The boys are back in town. Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! The boys are back in town. And when the boys are back, There ain’t no foolin’ around!
</b></font></marquee><marquee><font size=1 color=orange><b>Please allow me to introduce myself I’m a man of wealth and taste I’ve been around for a long, long year Stole many a man’s soul and faith And I was ’round when jesus christ Had his moment of doubt and pain Made damn sure that pilate Washed his hands and sealed his fate Pleased to meet you Hope you guess my name But what’s puzzling you Is the nature of my game I stuck around st. petersburg When I saw it was a time for a change Killed the czar and his ministers Anastasia screamed in vain I rode a tank Held a general’s rank When the blitzkrieg raged And the bodies stank Pleased to meet you Hope you guess my name, oh yeah Ah, what’s puzzling you Is the nature of my game, oh yeah I watched with glee While your kings and queens Fought for ten decades For the gods they made I shouted out, Who killed the kennedys? When after all It was you and me Let me please introduce myself I’m a man of wealth and taste And I laid traps for troubadours Who get killed before they reached bombay Pleased to meet you Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah But what’s puzzling you Is the nature of my game, oh yeah, get down, baby Pleased to meet you Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah But what’s confusing you Is just the nature of my game Just as every cop is a criminal And all the sinners saints As heads is tails Just call me lucifer ’cause I’m in need of some restraint So if you meet me Have some courtesy Have some sympathy, and some taste Use all your well-learned politesse Or I’ll lay your soul to waste, um yeah Pleased to meet you Hope you guessed my name, um yeah But what’s puzzling you Is the nature of my game, um mean it, get down Woo, who Oh yeah, get on down Oh yeah Oh yeah! Tell me baby, what’s my name Tell me honey, can ya guess my name Tell me baby, what’s my name I tell you one time, you’re to blame Ooo, who Ooo, who Ooo, who Ooo, who, who Ooo, who, who Ooo, who, who Ooo, who, who Oh, yeah What’s me name Tell me, baby, what’s my name Tell me, sweetie, what’s my name Ooo, who, who Ooo, who, who Ooo, who, who Ooo, who, who Ooo, who, who Ooo, who, who Ooo, who, who Oh, yeah</b></font></marquee><marquee><font size=1 color=red><b>Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys They'll never stay home and they're always alone Even with someone they love Cowboys ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold And they'd rather give you a song then diamonds or gold Lonestar belt buckles and old faded Levi's each night begins a new day And if you don't understand him and he don't die young He'll probly just ride away Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys They'll never stay home and they're always alone Even with someone they love Cowboys like smokey old pool rooms and clear mountian moringin's Little warm puppies and children and girls of the night And them that don't know him won't like him And them that do sometimes won't know how to take him He ain't wrong he's just different but his pride won't let him do things to make you think he's right Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys They'll never stay home and they're always alone Even with someone they love Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such</b></font></marquee><marquee><font size=1 color=grey><b>What dey gives you blood? Three months man Whatchu doin in here anyway? You oughta be home with your momma How old are you boy? Thirteen Thirteen? Damn, the bastards must be runnin outta niggaz to arrest Yeah, ohh yeah, this goes out to all the families that went through the struggle Yeah, from the heart It was from the heart, everything was real All that I got is you And I'm so thankful I made it through Yo, dwellin in the past, flashbacks when I was young Whoever thought that I'd have a baby girl and three sons I'm goin through this difficult stage I find it hard to believe Why my old Earth had so many seeds But she's an old woman, and due to me I respect that I saw life for what it's really worth and took a step back Family ain't family no more, we used to play ball Eggs after school, eat grits cause we was poor Grab the pliers for the channel, fix the hanger on the TV Rockin each others pants to school wasn't easy We survived winters, snotty nosed with no coats We kept it real, but the older brother still had jokes Sadly, daddy left me at the age of six I didn't know nuttin but mommy neatly packed his shit She cried, and grandma held the family down I guess mommy wasn't strong enough, she just went down Check it, fifteen of us in a three bedroom apartment Roaches everywhere, cousins and aunts was there Four in the bed, two at the foot, two at the head I didn't like to sleep with Jon-Jon he peed the bed Seven o'clock, pluckin roaches out the cereal box Some shared the same spoon, watchin saturday cartoons Sugar water was our thing, every meal was no thrill In the summer, free lunch held us down like steel And there was days I had to go to Tex house with a note Stating "Gloria can I borrow some food I'm dead broke" So embarrasin I couldn't stand to knock on they door My friends might be laughin, I spent stamps in stores Mommy where's the toilet paper, use the newspaper Look Ms. Rose gave us a couch, she's the neighbor Things was deep, my whole youth was sharper than cleats Two brothers with muscular dystrophy, it killed me But I remember this, mom's would lick her finger tips To wipe the cold out my eye before school wit her spit Case worker had her runnin back to face to face I caught a case, housin tried to throw us out of our place Sometimes I look up at the stars and analyze the sky And ask myself was I meant to be here... why? Yeah, yo All that I got is you And I'm so thankful I made it through Word up mommy, I love you Word up It was all you, word, you brought me in like this I sit and think about All the times we did without, yeah I always said I woudn't cry When I saw tears in your eyes I understand that daddy's not here now But some way or somehow, I will always be around, yeah All things that I did from this to them Oh from drugs to being there Being down and out and I love you always Yeah, you say You see the universe, which consists of the sun moon and star And them planets, that exist in my space Like man woman and child You understand? We got to keep it real, and what reality and reality will keep it real with us I remember them good ol days Because see, that's the child I was What made me the man I am today See cause if you forget where you come from, heheh You're never gonna make it where you're goin, aheh Because you lost the reality of yourself So take one stroll through your mind And see what you will find And you'll see a whole universe all over again and again and again and again and again Heheheh, yeah heheheheh ahaheheheh
</b></font></marquee>
<marquee><font size=1 color=blue><b>The old Cherokee chief sat in his reservation hut, smoking the ceremonial pipe, eyeing the two US government officials sent to interview him. "Chief Two Eagles," one official began, "you have observed the white man for many generations, you have seen his wars and his products, you have seen all his progress, and all his problems." The chief nodded. The official continued, "Considering recent events,in your opinion,where has the white man gone wrong? " The chief stared at the government officials for over a minute, and then calmly replied. "When white man found the land, Indians were running it. No taxes. No debt. Plenty buffalo, Plenty beaver. Women did most of the work. Medicine man free. Indian men hunted and fished all the time" . The chief smiled, and added quietly, "White man dumb enough to think he could improve system like that."</b></font></marquee>
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This one really pisses me off. They try to make a profit off something like this. There are shirts that commemorate those that died(NYPD/FD/PAPD memorial shirts) I don't see these as making a profit as much as trying to raise a few bucks for the families. You got thru the black out?? Yeah so the fuck what?? People need to feel good about themselves. Make them feel like they did something wonderful, so you walked home, big fuckin deal. As for the Sept 11th stuff sold out on the street, these people are real pieces of shit. Especially the ones that sell the shirts and hats that say Ground Zero on them. It's not a fuckin tourist attraction. My theory on these scumbags is simple. Either they have no personal connection to it, they have no conciensce at all, or they are those people who openly cheered and danced in the street when the towers came down. Anything for a buck to send home to their families who will probably use the money to fund the next group of suicide bombers.
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Quote:Originally posted by BITENY
\"First 9/11, then the blackout of 2003. What next?\"
Because of course, the Twin Towers coming down is akin to me having to throw spoiled eggs out. :fire:
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I remember these shirts being sold in Times Square just a few days after 9/11 for $10 a pop. I actually asked the guy how he could even think this was a good idea (at which point 2 browsers who were looking at them quickly put them down and walked away) and his excuse was that that he was just working for somebody else, he didn't make them.
Needless to say, I was happy to see that same table a week later with a stack of shirts just as high, but now trying to be sold for $2. At least the bastards got stuck with a lot of unsold inventory.
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This wouldn't be America if morons didn't try to make money off of someone else's tragedy. Once Iraqis have electricity, expect to see tshirts along the lines of "they had a regime change and all I got was arrested."
It's all a part of my secret evil plan, pal. Just watch.
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Quote:Originally posted by BITENY
I was walking back from lunch a few mins ago and noticed one of the many t-shirt stands here in manhattan that are selling those stupid \"I survived the blackout of 2003\" t-shirts.
So I get a quick glimpse of a not so friendly t-shirt that actually hit a nerve with me....and it said this:
\"First 9/11, then the blackout of 2003. What next?\"
Who in their right fucking minds would have the nerve to create a shirt like that?
The same jackasses who, during a sweltering summer day in the midst of the blackout, upped the prices on bottled water to $5, or even $10.
The same idiots who, if they were driving a cab, charged <a href=http://www.nydailynews.com/news/story/109222p-98651c.html target=new>up to $400-500</a> for a ride from Manhattan to Queens.
Consider it the downside of our capitalist society. The same ideals which promote financial opportunity for everyone also translates into sometimes heartless tactics to get an extra buck out of the consumer.
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