I QUIT

Lawrence Ytzhak Braithwaite (no relation), Ratz Are Nice (PSP), pp. 8–9, 14–15, 27, 49–50, inter alia:

  • Flücky seemed to be able to forever look without changing physical appearance to fit comfortably anywhere with anyone’s fantasies.

    He’s yammering and yelling the parts to YDL’s Skinhead88 – really loud and does a bitch about a vespa. Flücky waz a scruffy and noivus dude. He kept hiz hair at a length btwn these onez here and not the otherz. He waz a bit more posh in hiz selection of dress. Hiz sharkskin waz tailored to his train of thot. A special night it waz not – he just favored it sometimes – when he got a call to go out, hang wid the crew. Flücky was a bit ridiculous.

  • -Why are homosexuals always so obsessed by everything-

    Chubby walks toward me. I thot he waz going to try and stomp on me. But then battyboichailz never do anything without a group involved and they don’t like to get their hands dirty. That’s why they have those Skin wanna be/SA types = Q-patrol/marching up and down the street.

  • The possibility of Elie going to school without getting the crap kicked out of him/was next to nil…. He was condemned to an existence filled with disjointed signifiers//​schizoidNigger/chimp/mallrat. The biggraçoons in the white collar hood thumped him blindly/​mad eyed bruiser/​detestation of the little retard. A nigger and an idiot is, too much, close to the truth than could be handled.

  • I always figured it like this…your average joe normal–casual–battyboichail–are peds man. They wont ya/​when you’re starving/​on the street/​they wont ya – it’s all control. They go weekend hunting looking for ruffboichail’z. They wontz to be quickened… I Edison basically loseout 3 wayz.

  • So he met him…
    You should haf seen hem he waz a beauty/areal lil’-darlin in blk stingy brim, new harry and a snorky pair of old oxbloods…. He jus sits by himself n readz n drinks til his crew shows up – a book, hez got always spread eagle, pulled apart by booth of hiz wide finger tipped handz. Hiz face pulled into it. I wont to go over n talk to him, alot, but I never got the noive….

    It was amazing. Why doez he look at me like that, real sweet, wid thouz big blk eyez n that smoik.

    I saw him the other day wid that gutter Skin, Eddy, sittin ontop of a newsbox on the street. Jus starin down at me. He’s too rude. He’s too stackt – what a neck, such a smile. He’s got lips, up close, that could stop a speeding train. So soft, I could use my mouth n finger to meet it and leave myfist to hold my heart.

    It’s fun to see all of it go down. It waz, whatelse could happened wid thoze 2 – wot goez on inside…

    He couldn’t even come over and say hi wottup. How long could I keep readin that fukkin book…. He waz caught, somtimez, starin back, but he don’t come over or say hi…. Iz he goin with that bonehead?

Additional fact: The book’s closing glossary, written in Standard English and making reference to obscure magazines and books as far back as the 1970s, is a kind of Ska Snob’s Dictionary.

The foregoing posting appeared on Joe Clark’s personal Weblog on 2005.05.31 17:10. This presentation was designed for printing and omits components that make sense only onscreen. (If you are seeing this on a screen, then the page stylesheet was not loaded or not loaded properly.) The permanent link is:
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