Can You Dig It? (1301 hits)
Category: UberMadness! EntryRating: 2 on 2 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Jimbo (View user info) at 2004-10-06 14:34:41 EDT
This post was an official UberMadness! entry. Click here to view the original matchup.
It should really come as no shock to the people who know me, but I am my own person. What I mean to say is, when I was younger, I went out of my way to be different from other people. I suppose I just wanted attention, but I started doing things just a little differently from other folks. I would be the rebel type and wear stripes with plaids, to give one shocking example. I would brown-bag a lunch of sardines and melba toast when all the other kids in fifth grade had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. And, around seventh grade, I started to pick up little phrases here and there from various sources, which I would incorporate into my everyday speech patterns. I especially loved a lot of the beatnik phrases from movies and TV, and I really got into it.
As a matter of fact, I still talk like that today, albeit to a lesser extent. I use words and phrases like "Daddy-O", and "Cool cat!", and "Wowzers!", and "Can you dig it?" I don't go out of my way to be different now - it's just that some phrases have stuck with me for the last few years. I could be sitting around with my friends and I'll just suddenly say, "Man, I could really go for some Memphis-style barbecue right about now, you dig what I'm saying? Can you dig it?"
My friends have grown accustomed to me.
I still run into my share of folks who don't quite get where I'm coming from, you dig? Here's a perfect example of the things I have to deal with in my life: My next door neighbor threw a party for the Purdue - Notre Dame football game this past Saturday, and of course my family and I stopped over. The neighbor's 14-year old nephew was there, and he had totally gotten into the whole "faux-ghetto" style, from the baggy pants to the crooked hat with the tag still on, to the speech. His name was Rom (rhymes with "Tom") but his full name was Romaesh Chundra Uphadya and he was about as ghetto as Ghandi.
He finished off a bowl of Fritos single-handedly, then looked about for a refill before he asked his uncle, "Yo, my nizzle, donchu got no mo cone chips up in yo crib?" and I almost started crying. The fake slang was bad enough, but in my experience, going ghetto also does not typically include perfectly enunciating every syllable in a sentence. Seriously. Try saying that last line to yourself in an Indian accent.
Yo, my nizzle, donchu got no mo cone chips up in yo crib? Indeed.
Anyone who knows me also knows there is just no way I could just stay silent at a scene like that. So I abruptly forced myself into the conversation and asked Rom, "Excuse me, Rom, but why are you talking like a wannabe rapper? I mean, you're smart, you get straight A's, why would you purposely act dumber than you are? Are you embarrassed by your own intelligence?"
He replied curtly, "Yo gee you best step off wit dat noise!"
Me: "What? Are you serious, Daddy-O? What does that even mean? Step off? Do you mean you want me to leave you alone?"
Rom: "Why you front-in?"
Me: "I'm sorry, I don't speak jive. You'll have to be more clear. What is 'front-in'?"
My wife: "Jesus Christ, Honey, leave the boy alone."
Me: "What? I'm just trying to understand the youth of today, can you dig it?"
Rom: "Dig? Who are you, fucking Maynard G. Krebs?"
Me: "Whoa, hold on there Jay-Z. How do you even know who Maynard G. Krebs is?"
Rom: "My father watches reruns of Dobie Gillis on Nick at Nite."
Me: "HA! I knew you couldn't keep up that act, man! Why don't you just speak like that? There's nothing wrong with the way you talk normally."
Rom (flustered): "Yo yo homie gee bling bling fo shizzle ma nizzle!"
Me: "What the fuck! That doesn't even make any sense! You're just stringing nonsense words together now. You dig what I'm saying? Can you dig it?"
At that point Rom lost his mind and threw a bowl of Nutter Butters across the room while shrieking like a madman.
Rom: "RAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGH!!! IMA BUST A CAP IN YO ASS NIGGA!!"
The party came to a screeching halt and everyone just stood and stared at Rom. Then Rom hurtled out the door into the cool October air, with his Dad chasing after him, screaming on and on about manners and propriety.
My wife: "Why do you have to start shit with everyone?"
Rom came back with his father after about 15 minutes like nothing ever happened. He just went right back to the now refilled Fritos bowl and dug in.
I left him alone.
User Reviews
Submitted by joekerland (user info) at 2005-04-28 17:23:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
thank you for helping me fill the time before I head home for the day Jim(bo)
Submitted by youarsoghey (user info) at 2005-01-16 12:08:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
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