
 '##::::'##:::'#####:::'########:  ZIEGO VUANTAR SHALL BE MUCH VICTORIOUS! !!
  ##:::: ##::'##.. ##:: ##.....:: ===========================================
  ##:::: ##:'##:::: ##: ##::::::: THE HELOTS OF ECSTASY PRESS RELEASE #285 !!
  #########: ##:::: ##: ######::: ===========================================
  ##.... ##: ##:::: ##: ##...::::   "Sellin' Smack On Da Street Ain't No   !!
  ##:::: ##:. ##:: ##:: ##:::::::       Treat, Unless Yo' Leet Like Mah    !!
  ##:::: ##::. #####::: ########:                  Parakeet!"              !!
 ..:::::..::::.....::::........:: 11/12/98                       by Snaf00 !!
 !!========================================================================!!

        I used to be sad because I have no job and my whole family was
 killed in a drive-by.  No more, my friend, no more.  Ever since I got my
 parakeet I have been living the high life.  You may not understand how
 that is possible; you may be asking yourself "don't parakeets cost
 money?" "HA!", I say, "you only show your ignorance by you last statement
 that you made to me regarding the cost of birds in the United States!"

        My birdie lets me live in luxury.  His name is little-b Fl0w and
 he is badest bird ever been up in this bitch! BOyEEEEEE!!!  Little-b
 sells crack and he does it well, too.  So well, in fact, that I won't
 ever have to work again.  Of course, I do have to do some work so that it
 doesn't appear as though I am just staying with him for his money.  In
 order to earn my keep he pimps me out on the streets for money.

        To this day I have been nothing but a hoe to little-b so I have
 made my mind up I will be a crack dealer, too!!  As I sneak into
 little-b's room I tiptoe across the newspaper trying in vain to avoid
 little-b's doodies and squeak toys that are strewn across the room.
 After finding his secret crack stash hidden in his snuggle-bone, I run
 out of the house and make headway towards little-b's favorite stakes.

        First stop is Murray's Pet Store, I throw on a trench coat to
 cover up the fact that I am still wearing my hot pants and ripped halter
 top (little-b like his boys to wear their work clothes around the house)
 and I head into the store.  All the little children here, looking at
 little doggies and kitties is a sure gold mine!  I start to stake out the
 joint for a good mark until...

        "YO! BITCH WHERE LITTLE-B AT!?!?!" said a small negro positioned
 behind me.

        "YEAH! WERE HE AT, YOU TWO-BIT HOE!?" all the children shout in
 unison.

        "Tell him to get his punk ass out here, cause I'z gotz his money
 now, I sold my beanie babies for this dough so I'Z BETTER get my crack,
 BITCH!"  He slaps my ass.  "Now run along and don't come back without my
 rock, babycakes."

        Feeling a little bit annoyed by the wee child I whip out the vile
 of rock and shove it in his eye as he screams and moans in agony.  I take
 that as my cue to leave.  I run out of the store at top speed with a mob
 of 20 9-year-old crack fiends nipping at my heels, screaming "BITCH! Why
 did you give HIM all the crack!?  Some of that was for me, ya know!!!"
 "Ya dumb hoe!" they added.

        As I near the park, I figure that I can rest a little and escape
 those little monsters (everyone knows that crack heads don't have much
 energy, even 9-year-old ones!)  As I take a seat on a nearby park-bench
 I accidentally sit on a little boy who promptly removes his covering of
 newspapers, looks me dead in the eyes, and says "bitch, ain't you that
 bitch, who bitches around with that bitch bird little bitch?"

        I nod and he grabs my neck and says, "Ya got my blow, HOE!?"
 To the best of my ability I shake my head an lift my arm, pointing at
 the riled up mob of pet store junkies who are chasing after me.  As he
 sees them he drops me and exclaims, "Oh, well, well, if it isn't
 crackhead Johnny and 47 drogues right, right.  Why not come over her
 Johnny, SOZ I CAN BUST Y0 SHIT UP!!!"

        A gigantic gang war erupts all around me.  Stuffed animals and
 backpacks are scattered across the park grounds garnished by the
 occasional Def Comedy Jam lunchbox.  The horror is too great so I begin
 to leave only to see in my way... LITTLE-B FL0W!

        "How many times have I got to tell you baby 'pimping ain't easy'!"

        "HA HA HA HA!" we both laugh.  Little-b sits in my hair and we
 stroll into the ghetto sunset.

 ---

        The moral of that story is this:  only smoke crack in moderation.
 And never NEVER buy it from a bird and his strung out h0e!

 !!========================================================================!!
 !!   (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! #285 - WRITTEN BY: SNAF00 - 11/12/98   !!
