Dodging Shade

No this isn’t a post about the Rascal called Dizzee (I’ve changed the title since then son), infact it’s a clever use of his infamous quotable “Get hotted up, get bun, get slew”. Why did I use that as the title? Because I really wanted to light up a pagon (misspelt purely because this is authored in my vernacular and also I mean no offense whatsoever to your belief system as ‘paygan’ on ‘the roads’ means an ‘eeediat).

I can’t even go into to detail because there’s no point, but I can’t help but feel as though three strikes isn’t enough before you have to put a pay-gannn (spelt how you say it but say it with all the anger and frustration you can muster up) on blizzy (I could of wrote blast but I didn’t wanna -it’s my blog so I can write whatever I want to write and wot).

The first instance I bobbed and weaved the shade as if I were Mayweather in the ring playing the long drawn out game of points, laughing along with the dire attempts to throw shade on my shine with the tone of ‘hold the fuck up is this really happening?’

When the second wave came a few hours later I felt like Jordan with the fade away three point buzzer beater against an aggressive defender and the shot clock. The way how I brushed it off in transit was equivalent to MJ shouting ‘get off me’ as the shot releases from my clutch and swishes slow motion into the net for 3 points, watching Karl Malone crash to the boards having been defeated by a killer crossover. I remember thinking

Try me again and see if I don’t light up ya clart, truesay you’re getting kinda regular widdit.

Lo and behold a third attempt came hours later but I didn’t even entertain that shit. By the time the third round of shade came I thought to myself…

What-the-fuck-is-up? Like really? Why? What the hell? What’s the motive? What’s the deal? What’s with all the shanter? What’s wrong with you? Quoi? Huh? Really? Come on, like, Chill the fuck out man.

I stopped for a second, I looked into the sky like ‘Oh hell naaaw, you mussa had me all fucked up today’ but before the switch in my mind went off, before the tone drop, before the smile disappeared, the face turnt to stone, and the aura got cold, I paused…

I took a deep breath and spun around as if I was Michael Jackson, moonwalked into the evening to grab my tings and jump in the whip, drive home to back up my computers and remove some data from external hard drives such as duplicate user accounts and backup my motherfucking computers on separate hard drives, after eating a left over truffle steak that my girl had at her sisters birthday dinner that I didn’t attend and eat some motherfucking stir fry afterwards. (I’m in a bad man mood so fuck grammar and shit).

That’s how you deal with shade, that’s how you deal with grey motherfuckers tryna dim your shine. They don’t want me to shine but Ima shine anyway. Word to Guru Khaled, I’m fully aware of ‘they’ and their Theyluminati el Shaluminati. It’s a bit of a paradox that the cabal of They call themselves Shaluminati because I swear luminate means to illuminate which means to shine light upon something, which means to reveal something so it actually does make sense that Theyluminati Shaluminati call themselves that because they throw shade to reveal shit, or potentially reveal how they feel about shit, or don’t know how to say something so it then becomes a motive to say something slick. (If you’re looking for grammar you won’t find it here, may I remind you of the fact just to be polite).

But yea that’s the story innit.

Until next time something happens and I feel like I have to share to purge my self of that energy, stay tuned… Something’s bound to get on my nerves soon.

Originally published on WHTVRINNIT.

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