The One Day Experiment

I love a good social experiment.

Today, out of sheer boredom, I decided to hold all of my conversations using as much hip hop/rapper lingo, slang & colloquialism as possible. As an active member of the hip hop community, I often find myself frustrated with the misuse of the English language, yet thoroughly entertained simultaneously. I understand it's somewhat Ebonics-esque existence, but what if I didn't? How idiotic would I sound to other people? My theory was that the average individual wouldn't have any idea what the hell I was talking about. Hmmmm.........


FIRST SUBJECT-My Mom
My Mom: Hello? Hi Anthony. How are you? Are you busy?

TG: Whadup Ma dukes? I'm straight, posted up, feel me? Street sign status & all that, nahmean? What's good?

MM: Excuse me?

TG: I'm sayin' though, marinatin' at the crib, makin' it do what it do, dig? Just doin' me, no homo. It's all good, what's crackin'?

*Result; she asked if I had been drinking & told me she'll call me another time.

SECOND SUBJECT-My son's teacher
Teacher: I want to discuss your son's behavior.

TG: Word up, pimpin. Cat be buggin', right? Yo, I keep it real with shorty, spit that knowledge fa sheez, boom bam. He be all about the shenanigans & whatnot, but I'm steady breakin' it down like, juice, if you out here whylin my dude, you ain't gon never touch no scratch, son. Can't be stuntin' if you stay frontin'! Word!

Teacher: Um, okay sir.

*Result: She handed me his report card & said she'll call my wife if there's anymore problems.

THIRD SUBJECT-Hispanic cashier at Burger King (interjecting a little Los Angeles-style Spanglish)

Burger King Chick: Hola. How can I help you today?

TG: Whadup doe? Yeah, yeah, feenin' for one of them Whopper joints, smell me? Feelin' a lil famished up in this piece, momma. Tryin' to touch some comida, vamonos! Ya boy need a grape soda with that, word, extra diamonds in that bitch, no doubt!

BKC: Que?

TG: Huh?

BKC: Did jew call me a bitch, sir?

TG: Ahhhhhhh, you got jokes dog! Nah, ain't no disrespectin', I'm just tryin' to eat cuz I'm eatin', ya know? Grab & bounce babygirl, grab, &, bounce! That Oww Wee got my guts bubbly, nahmean? Let me get that to go, finna shake the spot before my breezy start blowin' up my connect. She crazy ill!

BKC: Wha? Jour girl she sick?

TG: Word, you feelin' me! Yeah, loco in la cabayza, fa real fa real! Son, I almost wifey'd that chicken!

BKC: I no understand. Jew want chicken sandwich?

TG: Huh?

BKC: Que?

TG: Co-me-dah! Vittles, kid!

BKC: Sir, I think jew should talk to el heffa.

TG: Say word!

BKC: Uh, word? I no underst-

TG: Ahh nah, you droppin' dimes?! You must ain't be up on the G code! It's official on the concrete, real talk! Po's told me it's at least a bullet if they catch a nig slip-slidin' again outchere! Later for that. It's all about square biz, gettin' my scrilla sky high baby, no limits on mine! Can't do that if I'm stretched in the bing! Matta fact, I'm Audi 5. Holla back!

*Result: I never received my food, thoroughly confused my order taker & realized that this is more fun than a barrel of monkeys (no pun intended).

My conclusion was just as I suspected it would be; people had no idea what the hell I was talking about. Hopefully, this will serve as a small list of how not to speak if one yearns to be understood. Of course, I religiously pratice correct speaking, but I seem to be of a now dying breed.

Judging by the generations behind mine, between horrible grammar & body art, they'll be plenty of jobs available for my future grandchildren.