Why Me and Patrick Aren't Gangster

Not too long ago Me, Timnovkov, and Patrick J were staying in Jax Beach for a few days during SB. SB09 wwwooohhh!! So anyway, after a long night of me getting my fake ID taken as well as getting me and Tim banned from a club, me and Pat decided to chill outside for a bit. This was mainly due to the fact we were staying with Patrice (aka Shareese) Novkov and as everyone knows Novkovs dont know what AC is so her house was like 90 degrees.

So me and PJ were chillin out by the street not too far down from all the bars. I believe it as around 2 in the morning so there werent too many cars goin by, except for the random car of drunks every few min. As were conversing I couldnt help but notice myself getting quite uncomfortable when each car would drive by. I expressed this fear to PJ in hopes he would be able to relate.

The reason I would become uncomfortable is that with each passing car, I couldn't ignore the possibility that there would be a gunman inside that would take the opportunity to cap my ass in a drive-by style. I don't know why I felt this way..seeing as I'm from the suburbs of Ocala, not the skreets of Compton, or the projects of Harlem. But for whatever reason, I did. Thankfully after telling my Pat about this he didn't make fun of me and actually let me know it made him feel a little weird, as well.

Not long after making my fears known, I looked down the street and saw the last thing on Earth I wanted to see at that moment- 24 inch rims....white candy paint...chrome grill....blacked out windows....thats right...it was none other than a brand new Cadillac Escalade.

Now I may not know much about that whole culture...but I do know this- If you are gonna get shot in a drive-by at 2am on the side of the street..that shit is damn sure gonna be flyin from an Escalade on rims.

"My God, were about to die", I said all white-faces and poonish.

"O jeez, an Escalade on rims, play it cool man. Just dont look at them", Pat said, trying to fight back his own terror.

As the death mobile approached, we both became increasingly afraid. I wanted to run, but I knew they'd catch me. We would simple have to stand there like men and accept whatever was about to happen. And here it came- 100 feet...50 feet...25 feet.....was this really about to happen?

Just then......."BAAMM BAAMMM!!!"

Me and Pat both let out a simultaneous "oh shit!" as our feet left the ground and our hearts skipped a beat and off drove the terror-whip. It was at that time we realized we were still alive. In fact we had not been shot at at all. The noise we had both shit ourselves over was those chrome 24's passing over a loose sewer grate.

We both shared a relieved chuckle and called one another a poon. We had escaped the murderers and beaten the odds. We were here to see another day and ready to take on the world! ....until another car came into view down the street and we decided to not test our luck and again so we went back inside and went to bed.

That, my friends, is why me-Trevor Parker, and my boy Patrick Newport are NOT gangsters.