Just Caught Up And Read All These Stories
My Homey Walt, U Already Know
My Homey Walt, U Already Know 
By Popular Demand: True Coliwood Stories - College Athletics
- Thread starter Walt
- Start date
Got me like damn....
Those stories literally made my train ride home from work enjoyable. I got stories from college but imma hold off.
My nikka @Walt and @General Mills need to hangout for a week and report back here with the stories.
Sent from my Droid using Tapatalk
Those stories literally made my train ride home from work enjoyable. I got stories from college but imma hold off.
My nikka @Walt and @General Mills need to hangout for a week and report back here with the stories.
Sent from my Droid using Tapatalk
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Devil
When I first got to school, the university was shammin' on me big time. Big university bureaucracy is a bytch in heat, and a lot of students get fukked raw. If you're black at a big ass university, you're quadruply up shyt's creek - they create ghettoized positions like "Dean of Minority Students" where figuratively impotent morons get to serve as proof of the school's commitment to diversity, but have no resources or pull to actually help nikkas. That's a whole 'nother story though.
I took my first flight ever to get to college. A nikka grew up on foodstamps in the projects, I ain't travel much up to that point. My moms put an extra $150 on top of the money I banked from my summer job, and by the time I paid for a cab from the airport, I had enough left to cop a couple weeks worth of McDonald's and some toiletries. Showed up with a bunch of sloppily packed duffel bags and bookbags, (I owned no real luggage) sweating like shyt from the worst part of the southern summer, and found out the school had somehow fukked up my housing. I mean, initially I had a room assigned to me in the paperwork they mailed me, but it turned out they over-enrolled the freshman class, hadn't figured out how to house us all, and I was one of the odd men out. If I could go back to that moment I would pull the patented "crazy, loud black man" act, but at the time I was just tired and disoriented and happy to be the fukk out of New York and away from all the bullshyt.
I was up in temp housing for 3 weeks with two roommates in a converted common room. We had a bootleg front door, and upright cardboard boxes for closets. I wish I was exaggerating. shyt was misery. I immediately started macking broads just to have different spots to sleep. One of my roommates in temp housing was possibly the dorkiest white cat ever. He had some funky ass scars in zig zag patterns on his face from a bike accident during which he dropped a bunch of coke bottle and fell face first into them. Son was the worst. He farted in his sleep. Me and the other white dude in the room would be awake staring at each other like "yo, is this really happening?" He was an ol' skippity-doo-da whistling motherfukker too. Homie would be whistling when he woke up, when he walked out to brush his teeth, when he came back from classes - he was can't stop, won't stop with the whistling. To put the cherry on top of the shyt sundae, dude had a pink comb, and he was always combing his perpetually wet, stringy ass hair. One day he turned to me and the other roommate and declared, "I have a pink comb, but I promise I'm not gay." :sayword: No doubt in my mind son was fruity. He was in the school band. Played horn or flute or some shyt. Again, I wish I was making this up.
Temp housing aside, my whole first month was mad humbling, b. I turned down scholarship offers at lesser basketball schools for the promise of a legit tryout at this powerhouse. Being really ignorant of the larger world at the time and having a family without any savvy in terms of colleges and career and shyt, I turned down a chance to go to an Ivy to head to this public university. I show up and I'm in temp housing. When I got on the court with the cats on the team, nikkas was a lot better than I was at ball. I had been a big shot in a private school league, played a lot of premier street summer leagues in NYC, but in college I was a classic tweener - a little too thin for the post, a bit too slow to play the two... nikkas was abusing me on the perimeter, man.
More humbling shyt... I was one of the biggest dudes in my high school. First week at this college I got in an elevator with this football nikka whose leg was bigger than my whole body and shyt. I couldn't stand those supersized linemen the same way I can't stand Oscar Gay La Hoya. Like, it genuinely pisses me off that I'm a big, strong dude but there are these giant lineman motherfukkers who could snap me in half; and it really annoys me that a lame ass crossdressing chump like Oscar could beat me to death within 30 seconds.
The humbling didn't stop there... The bougie frat nikkas had more money than I did. Even though they were softer than a cup of frozen yogurt, and corny as fukk, the bytches would flock to them for status.
I hung with the basketball nikkas at first, and saw residual p*ssy off that. I was getting chicks off my own vibe too, but the three baddest broads I pulled got scooped from my grasp by: first one by the best incoming freshman on the team, who ended up in the NBA; second one by a scrub nikka on the team who ended up being mad cool with me and somehow made the NBA when it was all said and done (he had a jeep - I had sneakers. Dude actually showed up to this bytch's room while was in there and she kicked me out. Homie flashed me the amused grin and the shrug like MJ hitting 3s over Cliff Robinson); third one by an NBA player who had just graduated from a rival school as college player of the year. That nikka took my dream bytch from me, this thick ass track star who used to eat lunch with me.
I also hung with a lot of football nikkas, because I lived in the football dorm after I got out of temp housing. I played sports, I was chill, enough broads wanted to fukk me, so some of the football nikkas started inviting me to shyt. Them dudes got on my nerves though. Back then everyone on the football team's name was something-daddy. If your name was Antoine Davis, for example, you were called 'Toine-Daddy. If your name was Derek Baylor, you were called Bay-Daddy. shyt was mad basic and I thought most of them nikkas were wack and simple. Also, everyone was raising the fukking roof or bankhead bouncing.. I won't even front, I was hatin'. I was like, why these monkey ass nikkas raising the fukkin' roof and bankhead bouncing in unison on some Pavlovian shyt, like some kind of remedial negro dance squad? Sit your big asses the fukk down, stupid, corny nikkas. shyt.
My next door neighbors were two football nikkas, but they weren't cats I hung with. One of them was the nicest guy you could meet, a real modest brother who was barely ever around, kept to himself when he was, seemed to genuinely love his girl. The other nikka was named Rell, but cats called him "Devil." He was from the deep south. He had a bushy high top fade, wore nerd glasses, and rocked army fatigue shorts all the time. Dude was swagless. I used to have broads coming through to my room all the time checking for me, I had my bracelet and chain and my music, I walked with my bop... So basically I thought I was stuntin on Devil, impressing him with how smooth I was. I'd see him in the hall and give him the casual, dismissive head nod like "yeah, nikka... I do what I do." Then he came through and kicked the buildings down on me.
Son quickly let me know what was what. He had bytches upon bytches coming in and out of his room. He had dirty clothes, a wack hairstyle, a shaky grasp of the English language... didn't matter. He would beating bytches' coochies like tackling dummies. You'd hear them screaming like hellfire was at their heels, the metal bed frame would be smashing into the wall and shyt. Shorties were giving me rhythm, and I felt like I was putting in work, but at that young age when I heard dude essentially tearing the door off its hinges, I started to second guess my pipe game.
The window to our suite's bathroom overlooked the front of the dorm. There was mad foot traffic at all hours, people going to and from class, meals, etc. Devil would go into the bathroom to shower, push the window all the way up and stand in front of it butt ass naked, shouting crazy loud at people he knew, so that random chicks would look up and see his dikk dangling. Son was uncouth like a motherfukker. He would spend a good fifteen minutes pre-shower just standing naked in front of the window, hoping random broads would look up and see his jimmy.
His room was a revolving door of average white broads. I'm talking about every single night. Sometimes more than one chick a night - dude would put one bytch on the torture rack, send her home, and a couple hours later another bytch would come through. The soundtrack to my entire first year was this nikka fukking the shyt out of drab ass white broads. I definitely didn't hear or see homie leave his room to shower in between fukks, either.
Man, football nikkas were the first nikkas I saw who straight feasted on white chicks. Another sidenote - I have no idea how some of these dudes did what they did to their bodies. I was an athlete, but I could never pull off the shyt they did - fukk like 15 times during the week, get drunker than shyt at least 3 nights during the week after practice, smoke out like you couldn't believe... and then suit up and play a game on Saturday like it was nothing.
I had met Devil's girlfriend a couple times, she was an older student, pretty sure she was a senior or a grad student. Shorty had a bit of maturity and sophistication to her. Goodlooking black chick, always dressed professionally, hair done up on some Anita Baker shyt, very adult. Some broads think if they catch these dudes when they have an age advantage on them, they can mold them. Maybe with some nikkas, but an absolute grime-beast like Devil? fukk outta here.
Start of the second semester, she found out Devil was fukking, I don't know, 300 white bytches behind her back? She showed up in our suite to curse him the fukk out. I'm talking about the most vicious cursing I've ever heard. And when that veneer of sophistication went away, she was fierce. I mean, she had a voice that could wilt lettuce, b. Broke that nikka whole life down and shyt.
After 10 minutes of Devil being dead silent and pretending he wasn't in the room, the nikka finally started saying shyt back to shorty through the door. Just mad quick, childish, infuriating jabs. "Shut up you bum bytch!" and "Your p*ssy stink!" and "Wash your ass, ho." Every once in a while he would just laugh mad sinisterly. That shyt fed homegirl's fire until she was in the fukking zone. She was blacking the fukk out, banging on his door and screaming and spitting and shyt. I'm watching through my peephole the whole time, taking it in.
Suddenly... the nikka opened the door mad quick - I'm talking like 1/3 of a second - and threw a pitcher of red kool aid in her face. I don't know if I can do justice to that moment, man. I had to back away from the peephole and put my face in a pillow so she wouldn't hear me laughing. Shorty went berserk! Here she was an older chick thinking she was on some brand new modern sophisticated shyt, and Devil was fukking mad average white broads behind her back and threw kool aid in her face. Her fury, b! Her indignation!
One of my suitemates called campus police to get her out of the hall, or she might've stayed there screaming all night. About 5 minutes after she got escorted out, I left my room to use the bathroom. On my way back to my room, Devil opened his door, looked me in the eye, and winked while smiling mad big. Then closed the door back. Son hit me with the face likeThat nikka was Gucci Mane before Gucci Mane.
Random ass ending: last day of my freshman year I heard Devil beasting a white bytch out to Simply Red's "I'll Keep Holding On" on repeat for like a full hour. fukk force-feeding and waterboarding motherfukkers at Guantanamo Bay - make suspected terrorists sit through that shyt and see if they don't break.
Jesus christ, when I was boarding with a Junior C team in the sticks when I was 14, I literally went through something just like this. @Walt it is crazy being out of your element, and experiencing this type off stuff..
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Not sure I can get to Episode IV tonight, but I should have it posted by tomorrow afternoon at the latest. Some of these will be brief - like 3 paragraphs. If they flow naturally and there's a lot to them, I'll let them flow. But a handful are just goofy and absurd and will be like quick interludes. I'm already looking forward to Episode XIV. Can't wait to sit down and try to remember all the details of that shyt. Mitch-Dog, the Preacher Man. Mitch-Dog will resurface in one of the outtakes/bonus joints too.
Thanks for the positive responses so far. I don't mind sitting down and typing up a memory when I have a free half-hour here and there. This site has given me so much entertainment, so much music, and even plenty of quality conversation over the years. I'm happy to contribute to it.
Thanks for the positive responses so far. I don't mind sitting down and typing up a memory when I have a free half-hour here and there. This site has given me so much entertainment, so much music, and even plenty of quality conversation over the years. I'm happy to contribute to it.
When i post the next story I'll go back to the first page and start posting links in the first post to each individual story.
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DALLASMAVERICKS
Pro
you went to UNC breh?
This thread was made not because of the first story. These dudes was talking about girls getting raped, Walt then says he has plenty of stories of shyt going down like that in college and other posters was like "tell them"
Actually used that smiley some of the posters. That's the honest to God truth of how this thread popped off. I linked the thread for you to see yourself. Since that is the motivation, I can't sit here and act like it's not. Neither should anyone else
shut yo bytch ass up and stop ruining this thread u fukking fakkit
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You could put the stories on the first page under the title(After you post them in the thread that is going), but put a spoiler tag around it..
^this
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