Showing posts with label Letters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Letters. Show all posts

Letter to the Editor: Ms. Ennis

Dear editor:


My name is Mildred Ennis, and just the other day I caught my eldest son Eugene listening to the corrupting influences of rap music. Needless to say I was horrified. I just couldn’t figure out how this exposure could have happened! He attends a delightful Christian Academy and plays the oboe in his school’s wind ensemble. It wasn’t until yesterday, when I told our butler James to look through Eugene’s internet history, that I discovered your “Thug Fancy” site. After reading through all the content I became convinced that people like you, who glorify this despicable lifestyle, are responsible for the degeneration of traditional American family values. Let me make it quite clear that there is nothing “fancy” about the life of a thug. They are brutal, violent, low lives and I wouldn’t even be surprised to find out that they habitually smoke marijuana. There was once a young black boy who lived down the street from our servants’ quarters. He listened to rap music, and one time I suspect he broke into our house and stole our fine China dishware. The police said it was Eugene who sold it on eBay, but I know he wouldn’t do that. That young boy robbed us because of the rap he listened to. This is what rap does to our youth and I request that, for the good of society, you discontinue your “Thug Fancy” website magazine. If you do not comply, I will be forced to take serious action and report your website to the proper authorities.




Dear Mildred:


    I request that, for the good of society, you do something more productive with your time than whine. Perhaps you could use that time to actually be a mother instead of having your butler do it. As the great Slim Shady once said, “you should have been watching him, apparently you ain't parents.” In fact it's a brilliant idea. You use your time to uphold the one responsibility you have, mothering, and we'll use our time arm the world with knowledge of the “Thug Life.”

    You mentioned that rap contributes to and perpetuates the degeneration of traditional American values. The most traditional of the American values is the freedom of speech. You don't like our magazine? Good, stay away from it. You don't want your precious Eugene reading it? Fine, keep him away from it. But by trying to shut us down you are trying to shut down the values that make America the shining beacon of freedom throughout the world. Now you don't want that, do you?

    So why don't you stick to what you know how to do? Be a housewife; let us be the straight thugs. We have a publication to run and can't be wasting our with every sad story of a mother who can't even be bothered to pay attention to her own child. I wish your son luck in his ensuing “thugification.” Look it up here



Sincerely,


M.C. Rost and The Thug Fancy Team


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Letter to the Editor: Mr. Wayne

Ayo man. I be a'readin' this magazine and the prose be attractifing da ladies. Prose before hoes, nawwhatImean? I don't mean to grind your d*** or nothin' but I was thinkin', you know,  this magazine real good and 2pac real good. Maybe you and him get to togeather and you know, like interview each other. Tell him that if he don't do the interview, he get his ass whooped or something. Trust me, ass whoopins work. You don't even have to whoop ass, you just have to say you will. My baby momma was all like pounding at my door and shit and was a'hollerin' "your kids get they ass whooped." I was all like "ain't my kids, they'z Tyrone's. I told you that already."  Mos def, the loomin' ass whoopin' is probably the most fearsome tool in one's interrogative arsenal. I know this cuz that baby momma got some behaved kids. She beat the thug outta them. Raised them better than that, or something. Maybe you should do something on repressed thugnificence and how people trying to stop thugs from doing thuggery.  So, maybe when you interview 2pac, you can get his adivce on the subject, and the subject of parenting. 

Sincerely, 
B. Wayne
Gotham City

Just wait for our next issue. 
Also, you might want to check out the treatsies made by O.G Newton while you wait.

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Letter to the Editor: Rusty's Mom

    On a summer eve last week, I caught my eldest son, Rusty, listening to this god foresaken jungle music. The jungle boogy's pulses disrupted my evening in the delta. The sepia tones muted by the "rockin' bass overtones." My poor Rusty, he now occupies himself with schemes of procuring hoes and 40s. I long for a cure for my son, the son who dreamed of wranglin' cattle and serenading fair maidens in the moon light. Now, the only moon in his life is the moon shine that he procured in lieu of malt liquors. Your rap music made him steal his pappy's moon shine. This rap music is perverse in mind and body. I listened to Dr. Dre's "The Chronic" in its entirety. I was appalled. I think that Thug Fancy should write articles about more traditional things, pick up trucks for instance. If you continue to spew this filth, please include the disclaimer: Warning, Thug Fancy may contain material intended for unChristian audiences and Protestant reformers. 

Farewell, 
Rusty's Mom

Dear Rusty's Mom,
We appreciate your letter. We commend you for your convicitions. However, we propose that you take the hint from your holy book and exodus. Rap may be opposed to your personal blend of christianity. For that reason, we submit that, perhaps, the Bible, upon which you thump, be adhered to the same sticker, "may contain material intended for unChristian audiences and Protestant reformers." At the very least, we could accept responsibilty. You, responsible for your kid. Thug Fancy, responsible for keepin' it real. Protectorate of the realness, much like the nobleman, Sir-Mix-Alot.

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