There’s some serious, serious bullshit afoot, so just a heads up that things might get ugly in a minute, because this cabbage is straight-up staring at me tryna start shit.
Bro…I really think this cabbage wants to catch these hands. I really, really do. You see the way he’s looking at me, right? You see this shit?
For the past, like, four hours, this cabbage has been posting up on my kitchen counter, eyeing me down, acting all hard as if I won’t get up off my couch and dust his little ass into coleslaw without any hesitation whatsoever. Like, bro, I bring this Savoy boy into my house, and he pulls this staring shit? I cannot let that slide. I cannot. I will slice, dice, and pickle his sorry green ass into kimchi, and they will never be able to put him back together again. When someone disrespects you the way this cabbage is disrespecting me right now, you have to do something about it, or else every other vegetable on your counter’s gonna think you’re a punk. That’s just the way it is.
Know what? I bet he’s only playing Mr. Tough Cabbage because I got my girl with me right now. Yeah. That’s it. She’s with me, she looks good, and this cabbage thinks he’s gonna show off, get her attention by tryna get in my head or something. But what that cabbage doesn’t know is that my girl is loyal. She’s intellectual. She’s a reader. She’s a grown-ass W-O-M-A-N, and that shit won’t play with her. She stopped messing around with little cabbages a long, long time ago, especially the insecure ones that put on that macho front bullshit. For real, that jealous shit is just sad, bro. It really is. This cabbage needs to grow the fuck up. Like, I almost feel bad for him, because the only chance he’ll ever have at getting my girl’s attention will be when I pair his ass with some corned beef tonight—my girl’s favorite. Mhm. In our relationship, it’s St. Patrick’s Day every damn night. Mhm. My girl be moaning “Sláinte!” when she’s with me, son.
Anyway…
Look, if that cabbage wants some of this? I will give him all of this. No problem. No mercy. All he needs to do is say something, instead of just staring (like a pussy). I’ll be here waiting.
