Address_Unknown
Jesus Loves you...Your Cat doesn't. {#Dogset}
Aight, I'm turning in my platinum gold plated manlet card at the door. 
A breh just came back from the DMV and my shyt says 5 feet 10 inches.
Here's how the fukkery happened.
A breh just came back from the DMV and my shyt says 5 feet 10 inches. Here's how the fukkery happened.A breh faked his height during some confusion, just read the damned story, breh/brehette..It's fukkery on a Friday!
Aight. So my license expired like a month or so ago but where I'm from, everybody knows everybody and short of a serious accident with a stranger, I don't really need that piece of plastic. Whenever I hit America people always like "You can use your Driver's License as an ID"
"Excuse you, bytch? Here's my British Passport, fool."
I'd honestly use my license since it's way easier to replace than my passport incase I lose it somewhere, but that shyt got my height in BOLD right on the bottom corner and despite having a CLASS A License that promintently states the type of shyt I can drive (Backhoes, Excavators, 20 yard trucks and other heavy machinery
) By the time I get to show this shyt off to a chick at a bar and let her know a breh's capable of driving damn near anything on wheels, 9/10 times she don't let me hold the shyt infront of her face where I can block the fukking height part! So I'm often hit with the
Once they read that I'm fukking 5'5"
You ever tried to pick up a chick who knows you're short but don't know the exact figure? fukking treats you like you got special needs, smiling all the time and nodding, making DIRECT eye contact on some foul shyt. I remember me and my friends were chopping it up at a club one time, meet a group of chicks, I bought the round and used my license...she saw that shyt, laughed and when them dudes took a group photo she placed her fukking hand ontop of my head instead of my shoulder 'cause she was like two inch taller in some fukking heels and sonned me.
That fukking ether
Anyways, yeah. So I'm in the DMV parking lot, oiling and combing out a breh's beard and mustache, fresh line up from a yardie barber, oversized vintage shades on, Black shirt with the big vintage glasses, looking like an impecably dressed sippy cup drink of water rolling in there. Now I done came to terms with the fact that I was short a LONG time ago, so I just had to get the shyt over with and call it a day. But I'd be lying if I said situations where I'm reminded of it don't hurt a breh down in his Duodenum.
Now I'm in the office where they process the shyt at, take your photo, the whole nine and it's lunch time, so the lady is processing me and like two other brehs before she heads out. My turn comes up, they make me read the eye chart shyt, fill the form and the whole nine. So I'm going through the motions, looking back at that demonic height chart like
And the lady hits me with the "Oh don't worry, we'll just copy everything off the old license and transfer it"
(bytch.) So I take my picture, and as manly as a breh's looking with the beard, mustache and glasses, Inside I feel like Verne Troyer and I just want to get the shyt over with.
So they take my picture and they processing my shyt when this fukking German Pawg comes in looking like all her capillaries burst in her face from sunburn
and she's all like "ZEES IS NOT GUTE! ZEY CAIN NOT SEE ME INZK ZI PICTURES!!" So this chick is freaking out 'cause she got to catch the next boat out of here to what I can only assume is her job or some shyt, the lady behind the desk goes 
and is trying to explain shyt to her until she eventually calls a veteran Co-worker to come deal with the shyts, she's got to go to an appointment.
Now the new dude asks me to get up out the seat so he can go deal with that hysterical german chick who's looking like a freshly scrubbed carrot and he's re-calibrating the machine and the camera and what's not, takes her picture, uploads it and sends it to print in HIS office. So before he goes, he makes me take my picture too since he confirms the printer where we are at is fukking up currently, so he snaps me again and goes "Alright, when I come back we going to put you up next to the height chart and be done with it." since he don't know that I'm renewing my shyt, he thinks this is a first time thing, same like the PAWG and a breh before me.
So he leaves to go do whatever the fukk and I'm like
'cause I gotta relieve this fresh hell all over again. I toss the paper on the desk infront of me, I got my head down, looking at my boots........
My boots! A breh's been wearing Steel Toed construction boots for the past year or so ever since I been transporting material out in the field. Man I jump up, hit the chart and I'm like 5'8" !
My fukking heart starts beating real fast 'cause I'm like "SHEEEEEEET...breh about to make a come up! I mean 5'8'' is within the cusp of Average! Then that inspiration hits me. I fukking sit down quick, pull my boots off, take my socks, bunch them fukks up and put 'em back in my boots. I stand up on them fukkers and I'm 5'9" brehs!
I mean, you got to understand that I'm in the office by myself, taking a pretty big risk 'cause if this shyt were to backfire on me I'd make the local gossip rounds and get clowned for years to come....but fukk it, I'm going for it!
So I'm sitting there, knees bouncing'n'shyt like I'm hyped off candy and I notice a book. I look at the shyts, I measure it with my finger. It's a bout an inch thick.
"Should I...? I mean..5'9" Is cool, but 5'10" ?
I hobble my ass over to the otherside of the desk to gauge his visual perspective, take a seat and look over to the chart and notice that this dude won't see the bottom of my feet, he'll only see me from like hip up, so unless he's being extra, ain't no WAY he going to see me if I stand on this short ass book....so...I put it there. I jam it up in the corner, jump back in my seat and sit down.
Now I'm self conscious as fukk now 'cause I'm about to pull such a fukkery move that could either hurt my rep exponentially or enhance that fukk on some really stupid superficial shyt that really ain't worth it, but I play it cool. He comes in and meets my short ass
with my feet under the desk, to make it look like I ain't a goddamned 
Tater tot.
He apologizes for whatever, starts talking about the printer problem and what's not hits me with the "Alright, let's take that height down, you sign your signature and we finished. So I get up slowly on my tip toes (Breh can't see my feet
) and hit the wall which is like less than 3 inches behind me in ONE backwards stride, standing on the book, removing my fitted and holding my breath.
Dude notes the shyt and goes "5'10", damn breh, You didn't look that tall at all" I play it off like "I got on boots, man. Need me to take them shyts off
?" I'm lifting up my knee, making the motion to untie them shyts and he's like "Nah breh, we good. Alright, finish the form." So I scribble the shyts out quickly and thank black jesus that I still had the blood test result card I got from the pharmacy three years ago when I did the shyts 'cause if I didn't have that shyt, this would have all been for naught and eventually he would have realized that I was already in the system had he typed my name or some shyt after asking me to go get my blood test documents ready.
So breh does what he has to do, sends my information wherever the fukk, leaves the room and instructs me to go out to the cashier chick. So I mill about until he's gone, get up quick, fix my socks, dust off that book, run up to the cashier chick all light headed, pay and she hits me with the "Check it to make sure it's accurate and factual. Sex, DOB, Blood type, name, address etc.."
But fukk THAT shyt! MY shytS SAY'S 5'10"!!!!
I had to hold it in brehs.....I fukking paid, wiped my eyes, wish'd her a good day, but the minute I hit outside in that parking lot.
Have a safe and happy Friday, Y'all.
"Excuse you, bytch? Here's my British Passport, fool."I'd honestly use my license since it's way easier to replace than my passport incase I lose it somewhere, but that shyt got my height in BOLD right on the bottom corner and despite having a CLASS A License that promintently states the type of shyt I can drive (Backhoes, Excavators, 20 yard trucks and other heavy machinery
) By the time I get to show this shyt off to a chick at a bar and let her know a breh's capable of driving damn near anything on wheels, 9/10 times she don't let me hold the shyt infront of her face where I can block the fukking height part! So I'm often hit with the
Once they read that I'm fukking 5'5"
You ever tried to pick up a chick who knows you're short but don't know the exact figure? fukking treats you like you got special needs, smiling all the time and nodding, making DIRECT eye contact on some foul shyt. I remember me and my friends were chopping it up at a club one time, meet a group of chicks, I bought the round and used my license...she saw that shyt, laughed and when them dudes took a group photo she placed her fukking hand ontop of my head instead of my shoulder 'cause she was like two inch taller in some fukking heels and sonned me.
That fukking ether
Anyways, yeah. So I'm in the DMV parking lot, oiling and combing out a breh's beard and mustache, fresh line up from a yardie barber, oversized vintage shades on, Black shirt with the big vintage glasses, looking like an impecably dressed sippy cup drink of water rolling in there. Now I done came to terms with the fact that I was short a LONG time ago, so I just had to get the shyt over with and call it a day. But I'd be lying if I said situations where I'm reminded of it don't hurt a breh down in his Duodenum.
Now I'm in the office where they process the shyt at, take your photo, the whole nine and it's lunch time, so the lady is processing me and like two other brehs before she heads out. My turn comes up, they make me read the eye chart shyt, fill the form and the whole nine. So I'm going through the motions, looking back at that demonic height chart like
And the lady hits me with the "Oh don't worry, we'll just copy everything off the old license and transfer it"
(bytch.) So I take my picture, and as manly as a breh's looking with the beard, mustache and glasses, Inside I feel like Verne Troyer and I just want to get the shyt over with.
So they take my picture and they processing my shyt when this fukking German Pawg comes in looking like all her capillaries burst in her face from sunburn
and she's all like "ZEES IS NOT GUTE! ZEY CAIN NOT SEE ME INZK ZI PICTURES!!" So this chick is freaking out 'cause she got to catch the next boat out of here to what I can only assume is her job or some shyt, the lady behind the desk goes and is trying to explain shyt to her until she eventually calls a veteran Co-worker to come deal with the shyts, she's got to go to an appointment. Now the new dude asks me to get up out the seat so he can go deal with that hysterical german chick who's looking like a freshly scrubbed carrot and he's re-calibrating the machine and the camera and what's not, takes her picture, uploads it and sends it to print in HIS office. So before he goes, he makes me take my picture too since he confirms the printer where we are at is fukking up currently, so he snaps me again and goes "Alright, when I come back we going to put you up next to the height chart and be done with it." since he don't know that I'm renewing my shyt, he thinks this is a first time thing, same like the PAWG and a breh before me.
So he leaves to go do whatever the fukk and I'm like
My boots! A breh's been wearing Steel Toed construction boots for the past year or so ever since I been transporting material out in the field. Man I jump up, hit the chart and I'm like 5'8" ! My fukking heart starts beating real fast 'cause I'm like "SHEEEEEEET...breh about to make a come up! I mean 5'8'' is within the cusp of Average! Then that inspiration hits me. I fukking sit down quick, pull my boots off, take my socks, bunch them fukks up and put 'em back in my boots. I stand up on them fukkers and I'm 5'9" brehs!I mean, you got to understand that I'm in the office by myself, taking a pretty big risk 'cause if this shyt were to backfire on me I'd make the local gossip rounds and get clowned for years to come....but fukk it, I'm going for it!
So I'm sitting there, knees bouncing'n'shyt like I'm hyped off candy and I notice a book. I look at the shyts, I measure it with my finger. It's a bout an inch thick. "Should I...? I mean..5'9" Is cool, but 5'10" ?I hobble my ass over to the otherside of the desk to gauge his visual perspective, take a seat and look over to the chart and notice that this dude won't see the bottom of my feet, he'll only see me from like hip up, so unless he's being extra, ain't no WAY he going to see me if I stand on this short ass book....so...I put it there. I jam it up in the corner, jump back in my seat and sit down.
Now I'm self conscious as fukk now 'cause I'm about to pull such a fukkery move that could either hurt my rep exponentially or enhance that fukk on some really stupid superficial shyt that really ain't worth it, but I play it cool. He comes in and meets my short ass
Tater tot.He apologizes for whatever, starts talking about the printer problem and what's not hits me with the "Alright, let's take that height down, you sign your signature and we finished. So I get up slowly on my tip toes (Breh can't see my feet
) and hit the wall which is like less than 3 inches behind me in ONE backwards stride, standing on the book, removing my fitted and holding my breath. Dude notes the shyt and goes "5'10", damn breh, You didn't look that tall at all"
I play it off like "I got on boots, man. Need me to take them shyts off?" I'm lifting up my knee, making the motion to untie them shyts and he's like "Nah breh, we good. Alright, finish the form." So I scribble the shyts out quickly and thank black jesus that I still had the blood test result card I got from the pharmacy three years ago when I did the shyts 'cause if I didn't have that shyt, this would have all been for naught and eventually he would have realized that I was already in the system had he typed my name or some shyt after asking me to go get my blood test documents ready.So breh does what he has to do, sends my information wherever the fukk, leaves the room and instructs me to go out to the cashier chick. So I mill about until he's gone, get up quick, fix my socks, dust off that book, run up to the cashier chick all light headed, pay and she hits me with the "Check it to make sure it's accurate and factual. Sex, DOB, Blood type, name, address etc.."
But fukk THAT shyt! MY shytS SAY'S 5'10"!!!!
I had to hold it in brehs
.....I fukking paid, wiped my eyes, wish'd her a good day, but the minute I hit outside in that parking lot.
Have a safe and happy Friday, Y'all.
"
