Channeling My Inner Thug!

Okay kiddies, I am about to blow your minds. If you weren't already sitting down, I suggest you find a seat quickly and prepare yourselves... It's going to be LEGEND... wait for it... DARY. (lol)

Sometimes I go a little crazy and channel my inner thug. I become a gangsta with street cred. It's a problem I've dealt with for ages. I blame it on growing up in the bay area. I blame it on an interracial elementary school (none of this is a bad thing, but just a little out of character for me.)

Seriously, I have issues with the thug in me. She just doesn't like taking a back seat sometimes. She likes Tupac (I mean, come on, WHO DOESN'T?) and Eminem and randomly bursts out singing bars of California Love.

Anyway, I am taking a painting class this semester (I want to be awesome at painting but so far, I'm just not. It's not easy for me to accept mediocrity so until I am awesome at painting, you'll just have to know that I am taking the class and be content with no more information.) Anyway, I am taking a painting class and there is this guy who sits at the end of my table. He is one of those annoying kids you just want to throw things at. The kids who's face you'd like to color on with indelible ink... You know the kind. He says things like "FO SHO" (it's ridiculous how often he says fo sho, I heard him say it three times in a row once. Is that even legal?) He says "It's Whatever" (like we needed his permission?) I keep waiting for him to bust out an "Oh Snap!" (I think I might leap across the table tiger style and scratch his eyes out if he did...) Anyway, He is currently in the process of starting a clothing company and every other sentence is plugging his t-shirt line. Seriously. Just when I thought he couldn't get anymore annoying. Okay so we had class on thursday, and he was in full swing inviting girls to his "rave" and being all "Fo Sho" and "whatever" and he started talking about how he was the OG. (one of the girls at the table asked what that meant. I nearly died. and his explanation of original gangsta was even more awful than her not knowing what it meant, but I digress) I should mention here that sometimes I am so much cooler in my head than I probably actually ever am. So while mister cool was explaining original gangsta, and being all cool, I was imaging my inner thug. Cause everyone knows that I am so much more thug than he is.

I wanted to get up and walk coolly over to his end of the table. Rap a couple of bars of some classic Tupac songs, and end by throwing my arms at him and saying loudly "UH! You've been schooled, Son!"

Not only would this appease the inner thug, but it totally goes along with my future profession of teacher, right!?! So in lieu of flinging paint in his direction, and in lieu of drawing phallic images on his face in indelible ink, i just imagine my inner thug challenging his right to be the ORIGINAL GANGSTA. And for a moment, I am at peace. Until he opens his mouth again.