Our weapon of choice is the changing bag, full of wondrous things that enable us to survive a day in the ‘hood. We have the ability to restrain a child and wipe it’s nose/face/hands/bum with a wet wipe, using just the one hand.
Out in the hood, we don’t sleep. Not properly. We sleep with one eye open, or not at all, because we are hard and tough and basically our leaders, the kids, tell us to. We obey, because we’re all about our crew. Nuff respect, innit.
We’re lovers, not fighters. We make peace, not war, unless it’s with our respective partners and they haven’t washed up or generally done as they’re told. There isn’t a problem that can’t be solved by cuddles and Calpol.
We run the world. We just let other people, namely our children, no matter what age, think that they do. Because we are experts in manipulation and bargaining. Our proof – how many carrots have you eaten, only to turn the lights off and still not be able to see in the dark?
Just because life can never be fun enough, and because my gangsta speak leaves somewhat to be desired, you NEED to visit gizoogle.net. Just do it, and see the most twee of websites turn gangsta on yo' ass. I find a Gizoogled Write Like No One's Watching to be PARTICULARLY amusing.