- Joined
- May 19, 2020
The average person just repeats transparent propaganda and bullshit talking points constantly, how do you cope with listening to that shit every day without losing your mind?
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bitch, why the fuck do you think we're all here on the 'Farms posting "faggot" and "nigger"?how do you cope with listening to that shit every day without losing your mind?
My Dad used to do that on his days off. He liked to mess with them wearing strange clothes, basically sweat clothes with an orange watchcap, like Bronson's getup from Death Wish II, except more colorful, like a homeless dood, and with mirrored sunglasses. They would mumble shit to each other like "...straight cop!" and "...The Man be watching us".I usually dress/act like an plain clothes police officer in black neighborhoods and they leave me alone.
My Dad used to do that on his days off. He liked to mess with them wearing strange clothes, basically sweat clothes with an orange watchcap, like Bronson's getup from Death Wish II, except more colorful, like a homeless dood, and with mirrored sunglasses. They would mumble shit to each other like "...straight cop!" and "...The Man be watching us".
These were small time brothers who otherwise would be strongarming people or harassing women and/or following them in the downtown area, or snatching unfettered shit from stores or even pocketbooks, not dope slangers or hardcore bangers. He knew his limits. He was a big enuff boi to discourage confrontation and weird looking enough to be an undercover Metro provocateur.
I think he got a genuine thrill from fucking with them, though. My brothers laughed at it and called it his Batman costume.
There was look favored by cops, including the mustache (in the 80's and 90's) which is so weird, because if you were a cop, why would you want to look like one?I used to wear aviators and have buzzcut when I had to work shitty neighborhoods. I recall the first time it dawned on me right as I was walking into a 7-11 to get a Gatorade in a shitty part of town and some nog yells something like "five-oh, five-oh!" like he's onto my disguise. I grab the soda and walk up to the counter to pay the I assume, Indian/Pakistani-born clerk. I look outside and ask the clerk, "Do I look like a police officer to you?" he says "You not policeman?" Henceforth I just mimmiced tone and vernacular and things went a lot smoother when I had to work terrible neihboirhoods.