Let me start off by apologizing. It has been over a week since I blogged last. This is unacceptable unless you have been busy doing really important stuff like I have been doing (like bowling 20 games in the last two days, and breaking three trek records in Big Buck Hunter Pro). If you’ll remember, the last time I blogged it was to put my own sister (Spinster Stories) in her place. She was frontin’ on me about bowling. Let me give you an update.
That night she called me begging for forgiveness. She apologized and promised it wouldn’t happen again. You’d think that after 28 years she would know me well enough to know that nobody gets away with clownin’ T-Quizzle. Guaranteed she remembers now. Not only did she apologize, she packed up and left the 801 for a whole week. I guess some real thugs were givin’ her so much heat for being 703 that she had to leave the 801. You know what they say, “Can’t take the heat…stay up out the kitchen.” The 801 is straight broilin’ when it comes to imposta’s. Ask Spinster, she can vouch!
I ain’t one to harp, so let’s move to the story. About four years ago gangs was poppin’ up all over the 801. This had a bunch of the old timers worried, but I welcomed the new cut throat mentality. I believe in survival of the fittest, and when it comes to keepin’ it real, I am ripped! In 2004, if I was ripped (and I was), my water ballooning homey, Kia, was straight chiseled!
Walking the streets wasn’t safe anymore. You needed eyes in the back of your head to survive. When there was an attack by someone you could expect a counter-attack within hours. At one point I saw a break dancer battle a Cougarette. The break dancer destroyed the poor Cougarette. She was so hurt she was incapable of mass texting her friends about their upcoming performance. It was one of the saddest things I’d ever witnessed.
The battle went down at five. By seven, the break dancer had been found in a concussion from head wounds at the creamery. Rumor has it that eight freshman football players caught up with the break dancer and handled business. They were mad because they had been used to getting mass texts on the daily from this Cougarette. When they didn’t get it they were distraught. Football players are lost without daily contact with Cougarettes. The rest is history.
It was under these circumstances that Kia, the crew and I were still water ballooning. The thrill was greater now that we were risking our lives with each thrown balloon. It was like a drug. We needed our fix.
On one particular summer night I thought we bit off more than we could chew. We were water ballooning with little action. No one was reacting to our immaturity. No one would chase the car or even flip us off. It was boring, that is until Kia pulled the ballsiest water ballooning move the 801 had ever seen. Kia drove through a stop sign as a bullet biker pulled up directly in front of us. As he passed the bullet biker he unloaded a balloon right into his temple from no more than three feet. Being a hardcore bullet biker, this guy had no helmet on.
801 Gang History Lesson
In 2004 bullet bikers had the meanest gang in Provo. They roamed the streets of Provo like Buffalo Bill roamed the west in the late 1800’s. No one messed with these guys. They met every night and had the sickest club house in the 801 (the Del Taco parking lot). No one messed with these guys. You couldn’t even make eye contact with them if you were going to eat at Del. They were likely to laugh and point, or even worse steal your chick by offering a ride on the back of their bike. They had so much pride that it made them strong.
At first we laughed. Another imposter had been humiliated. I hated those bullet bikers. They were taking over the 801. The only thing stealing more chicks than bullet bikers was Jesse Akin with his Power Pump class at Gold’s. I could respect that though. Jesse was extremely talented, had a great body and a contagious personality.
The laughing stopped when we realized that the bullet biker had turned his powerful machine around and was chasing us down. Within ten seconds the biker caught us. We were at a stop sign and he pulled right up to Kia’s window. He didn’t say a word. The tension mounted. I looked at my other partners in the car. Everyone seemed intimidated. But not Kia. He looked him in the eye and said, “Was that you I hit back there? Oh my bad…we are in a battle with a scooter gang and we thought you were in it.”
The guy started to flip out. “Does this look like a f*&%$#@ scooter. This is a bullet bike.” Kia chuckled and pulled off. A few days later I saw that same biker at my friend’s office. He is a therapist. He was crying as he spoke with my friend. Apparently bullet bikers get offended by being accused of riding a scooter. It punctures their pride. This was the downfall of bullet bike gangs in Provo. Every time I pulled up to Del Taco people would laugh, point and say, “Nice scooters!” Slowly, the gang dissolved. In 2007 you would never catch a bullet biker at Del in the parking lot.
Thanks again to Kia. Not only did he help me become the man that I am today, he single handedly eliminated the most dangerous gang from the streets of the 801. Kia, if you are reading this, will you please return and get rid of Emo’s and Indi’s for us? Then the world would really be a better place.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Keepin' It Real Retro-Style
It has been way too long since something was posted, and quite frankly that is unacceptable. I have to apologize for the neglect.
I want to take everybody back in time for a trip through keepin' it real. So many times in our lives, we forget how we got to the point of keepin' it as real as we do. In the 801, we are real, we are more real than the punk 661, the 705, and the 235. But we didn't just wake up and become real. Being real is culture, it is something that is handed down through the generations. Join me on a journey through realhood.
Keep It Real
"If you were from where Im from then you would know that I gotta get mine in a big black truck
You can get yours in a 64." These are the words from the one and only Montell Jordan. If you are real, then you know that you have to get yours in a big black truck. It's the only way to get it. Montell played a huge role in getting real to where it is now.
Check out this link for a retro experience on keepin' it real.
No words have been as real advice as the words spoken by Chille, Lisa "Left eye" Lopez and T-Boz. "Don't go chasin' waterfalls." I couldn't have said it better myself. There is no need to go chasin' waterfalls. I interpret those waterfalls to be the things in life that aren't real. Don't go chasin' things that don't allow you to keep things real and keep things 801. There is a reason we aren't from the 435, it's cause we don't go chasin' waterfalls.
Check out this link to the video that was filmed in the 801.
There has been an ongoing debate as to what "it is" in the lyrical masterpiece that is "Whoomp there it is." by Tag Team. I believe that what Tag Team are trying to convey to us the best way they could how real the 801 is. I think that the phrase "it is" is actually talking about the 801. If it would have fit in the line of the song, I think Tag Team's masterpiece would have gone something like this. "Whoomp, there is the the most real and hardcore area code around, the freakin' 801 ya'all." This just didn't flow in the rythym of the song, so Tag Team chose to use "it is" instead, assuming the world knew the 801 was what was intended.
Check out the realest video of all
Perhaps no one has exhibited more realness than this next group. Three words: Naughty by Nature. Sure, O.P.P. was real and we all know what it referred to and that is keepin' it real. But the realest part of Naughty by Nature was the one and only "Hip Hop Hooray." This music video had to have been shot in parts of the 801. I recogonize so much of this video, it brings a tear to my eye how much I feel at home watching this video. I will let this video speak for itself.
Check out 801 Hip, hoppin' and hoorayin'.
FLAVAAA FLAAV!!! Yeah dogg. There is no one person who keeps things more real than the one and only Flava Flav. Along with Public Enemy, Flava Flav teaches us to "Fight the Power." In the 801, we fight the power, we don't take nothin' from nobody.
Watch Flava Flav do his thing
"Insane in the membrane" This song is referring to anybody who thinks they can come in the 801 and front on us. You must be insane in the membrane, because we would straight mess you up. Let this final video be a warning to all you other area codes. We are serious about the 801 and we will straight mess you up if you clown on us.
Other area codes are...
Stay tuned for more retro style real keepers.
I want to take everybody back in time for a trip through keepin' it real. So many times in our lives, we forget how we got to the point of keepin' it as real as we do. In the 801, we are real, we are more real than the punk 661, the 705, and the 235. But we didn't just wake up and become real. Being real is culture, it is something that is handed down through the generations. Join me on a journey through realhood.
Keep It Real
"If you were from where Im from then you would know that I gotta get mine in a big black truck
You can get yours in a 64." These are the words from the one and only Montell Jordan. If you are real, then you know that you have to get yours in a big black truck. It's the only way to get it. Montell played a huge role in getting real to where it is now.
Check out this link for a retro experience on keepin' it real.
No words have been as real advice as the words spoken by Chille, Lisa "Left eye" Lopez and T-Boz. "Don't go chasin' waterfalls." I couldn't have said it better myself. There is no need to go chasin' waterfalls. I interpret those waterfalls to be the things in life that aren't real. Don't go chasin' things that don't allow you to keep things real and keep things 801. There is a reason we aren't from the 435, it's cause we don't go chasin' waterfalls.
Check out this link to the video that was filmed in the 801.
There has been an ongoing debate as to what "it is" in the lyrical masterpiece that is "Whoomp there it is." by Tag Team. I believe that what Tag Team are trying to convey to us the best way they could how real the 801 is. I think that the phrase "it is" is actually talking about the 801. If it would have fit in the line of the song, I think Tag Team's masterpiece would have gone something like this. "Whoomp, there is the the most real and hardcore area code around, the freakin' 801 ya'all." This just didn't flow in the rythym of the song, so Tag Team chose to use "it is" instead, assuming the world knew the 801 was what was intended.
Check out the realest video of all
Perhaps no one has exhibited more realness than this next group. Three words: Naughty by Nature. Sure, O.P.P. was real and we all know what it referred to and that is keepin' it real. But the realest part of Naughty by Nature was the one and only "Hip Hop Hooray." This music video had to have been shot in parts of the 801. I recogonize so much of this video, it brings a tear to my eye how much I feel at home watching this video. I will let this video speak for itself.
Check out 801 Hip, hoppin' and hoorayin'.
FLAVAAA FLAAV!!! Yeah dogg. There is no one person who keeps things more real than the one and only Flava Flav. Along with Public Enemy, Flava Flav teaches us to "Fight the Power." In the 801, we fight the power, we don't take nothin' from nobody.
Watch Flava Flav do his thing
"Insane in the membrane" This song is referring to anybody who thinks they can come in the 801 and front on us. You must be insane in the membrane, because we would straight mess you up. Let this final video be a warning to all you other area codes. We are serious about the 801 and we will straight mess you up if you clown on us.
Other area codes are...
Stay tuned for more retro style real keepers.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
SoPro and the 801 Family
I left my work office today thinkin' "Man, I got to make another trip into the deepest, most realest part of the 801 tonight...Sout Provo." If you remember my last blog about the rumble in SoPro at the Peak's Arena, then you will remember how crazy it was. I took a lot of heat for not being out in the parking lot to back my homey up when those thugs from a weak sauce part of the 801 jumped him. Hey, it was probably much needed heat and it was right. P.C. dealt out the heat more than anyone, but I couldn't get mad at P.C., he had some valid points, and in the 801 when a homey has a valid point, you own up to it and you recogonize it. This time, I wasn't lettin' nothing distract me from doing what I had to do. I got set up at the front door and my homey followed me out the door. If something was going to go down, it was going to have to go through me... and that ain't easy. I was poised and ready for any attack from any direction... my fist were clinched, i was on my toes, my eyes were sharp and I was ready. There would be no need to chase a car down this time if somethin' happened cause I was gonna knock those clowns out. I led the group out to the cars in the parking lot, everyone got in their car and I stood there... stood there daring some 801 poser to try and take me down... do you think they showed up? Do you think they tried to take me down? Not a chance, they saw the 801 rage in my eyes... they had no doubt what code I hailed from... THE 801! I kept it real, just like my homeboys with the 801 Family... the hottest group since NWA. If you haven't heard of 801 Family, you need to get with the program and check this ish out. These guys rock the 801, they rep the 801, they are everything that is good and strong about the 801. Their song "That's real" is what keeps me brave when I walk the streets of parts of the 801. Don't clown and check out these links to more things about 801 Family... Tresic, Jesse James, and Bigg Flapp D. Learn more about them here also... Check them out on MySpace...
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
A quick lesson for ya'all hatas
Yo ya'll, I can't believe what I just saw. I was reading some comments on the "Selling Out" post when I came across this:
"I have an example of a sellout. t-quizzle came to the alley (bowling) week and was too washed up and too weak to play. He chose to play some silly shooting video game instead of a game that's Real with a capital R, because he didn't have the rizzle dizzle guts to step up to the lane."
When I got to the bottom of the comment I couldn't believe my eyes. I have been dissed before. I am used to it. When you are as real as I am you find out how many hata's there are in the world and (190,384,921 in the U.S alone). The comment didn't bother me. We want people to comment on our blog, even if its negative. That is how a blog stays real (maybe spinsters stories could learn a thing or two about this). What bothered me was when I got to the bottom and realized it was my own sister Shauri. MY OWN SISTER! So I hate to write this, but here we go. Part of keeping it real is frontin' on anyone who disrespects you. Even if it is your own family.
Let me explain what happened at the bowling alley that night.
It was my brothers birthday. I had been bowling six times in two weeks. I had organized a large dinner group to celebrate. Since it was my brothers birthday, when the group decided to go bowling I figured I had better go even though I was tired of it. I mean bowling 300 every game gets old after a while. This night I understand how Michael felt after winning his third championship. I was ready to retire. I had nothing else to prove or accomplish. But, it was my brothers birthday so I wanted to show my love and support (take notes on this Shauri, something you could obviously learn from).
At the bowling alley my homeboy Larry and I decided to play Big Buck Hunter since we were tired of bowling. I invited Shauri to play. She came over very excited. One problem, she was too short. She wasn't tall enough to see the screen. I guess Big Buck Hunter was made for people taller than 5'2 because on her tippy toes Shauri couldn't see the screen. I hurried her off to the alley where she could actually participate in the activity.
This made me feel bad, but what was I supposed to do? Put her on my shoulders so she could play? That would be stupid. I have been puting up with this stuff my whole life. Waiting two hours in roller coaster lines only to find out she was to short to ride, waiting in go-kart lines for thirty minutes only to find out that she needed a partner to ride with her, playing basketball on her team only to see every shot get rejected, buying pants for her on Christmas and her birthday only to see her return them because the pant legs were too long, etc... You get my drift? Sometimes it just gets old.
So, don't take my sister to serious when she dogs me out on our blog. She has some serious confidence issues with her height. Sometimes she even tells people she has a "tall personality" because everyone thinks she is taller than she is. Most people she says that too just snicker and laugh. I generally slap them and tell them to stop so she won't feel bad, but her insecurity is pretty comical if you really think about it. I can't be mad at her though. I would be hatin' on everyone too if the next closest sybling in height was my younger sister who was five inches taller than me.
Yo, and one more thing ya'll. Check out the first six digits of my sisters phone number, (703) 861. Anyone notice anything fishy about that? Thats right, an imposter in the 801. She ain't repin' 734, our hometown area code. Change your phone number and then come at me with a comment clown!
But you know what, it's alright Shauri I forgive you. Next time we will have you stand on the stool to play Big Buck Hunter! Will that make you feel better?
"I have an example of a sellout. t-quizzle came to the alley (bowling) week and was too washed up and too weak to play. He chose to play some silly shooting video game instead of a game that's Real with a capital R, because he didn't have the rizzle dizzle guts to step up to the lane."
When I got to the bottom of the comment I couldn't believe my eyes. I have been dissed before. I am used to it. When you are as real as I am you find out how many hata's there are in the world and (190,384,921 in the U.S alone). The comment didn't bother me. We want people to comment on our blog, even if its negative. That is how a blog stays real (maybe spinsters stories could learn a thing or two about this). What bothered me was when I got to the bottom and realized it was my own sister Shauri. MY OWN SISTER! So I hate to write this, but here we go. Part of keeping it real is frontin' on anyone who disrespects you. Even if it is your own family.
Let me explain what happened at the bowling alley that night.
It was my brothers birthday. I had been bowling six times in two weeks. I had organized a large dinner group to celebrate. Since it was my brothers birthday, when the group decided to go bowling I figured I had better go even though I was tired of it. I mean bowling 300 every game gets old after a while. This night I understand how Michael felt after winning his third championship. I was ready to retire. I had nothing else to prove or accomplish. But, it was my brothers birthday so I wanted to show my love and support (take notes on this Shauri, something you could obviously learn from).
At the bowling alley my homeboy Larry and I decided to play Big Buck Hunter since we were tired of bowling. I invited Shauri to play. She came over very excited. One problem, she was too short. She wasn't tall enough to see the screen. I guess Big Buck Hunter was made for people taller than 5'2 because on her tippy toes Shauri couldn't see the screen. I hurried her off to the alley where she could actually participate in the activity.
This made me feel bad, but what was I supposed to do? Put her on my shoulders so she could play? That would be stupid. I have been puting up with this stuff my whole life. Waiting two hours in roller coaster lines only to find out she was to short to ride, waiting in go-kart lines for thirty minutes only to find out that she needed a partner to ride with her, playing basketball on her team only to see every shot get rejected, buying pants for her on Christmas and her birthday only to see her return them because the pant legs were too long, etc... You get my drift? Sometimes it just gets old.
So, don't take my sister to serious when she dogs me out on our blog. She has some serious confidence issues with her height. Sometimes she even tells people she has a "tall personality" because everyone thinks she is taller than she is. Most people she says that too just snicker and laugh. I generally slap them and tell them to stop so she won't feel bad, but her insecurity is pretty comical if you really think about it. I can't be mad at her though. I would be hatin' on everyone too if the next closest sybling in height was my younger sister who was five inches taller than me.
Yo, and one more thing ya'll. Check out the first six digits of my sisters phone number, (703) 861. Anyone notice anything fishy about that? Thats right, an imposter in the 801. She ain't repin' 734, our hometown area code. Change your phone number and then come at me with a comment clown!
But you know what, it's alright Shauri I forgive you. Next time we will have you stand on the stool to play Big Buck Hunter! Will that make you feel better?
Monday, December 10, 2007
Selling Out
No two words get me more fired up then these two "Sell out". "Keepin' it real" a phrase that is the complete opposite of "Sell out". In the 801, when we come across a clown who is sellin' out, we have no choice but to bust that clown.
Beyonce... known for her backside... now she is known for sellin' out. I would expect a little better from the mistress of a certain real thug, Jay-Z. Although some would consider Jay-Z a sellout, I would argue that he is incapable of being a sell out because of his hardcore roots from the 718, an area code that I respect with the utmost. When I think of the 718, I think of a lot of the same characteristics as a homey from the 801, so that is why I won't front Jay-Z.
But Beyonce is from the 713, an area code that is known for its clowns: ( Dan Rather, Hillary Duff, George Foreman, Kenny Rogers and Patrick Swayze to name a few). Sure, Slim Thug, Lil' Flip, and Mike Jones also hail from the 713 and they keep it real. However, the mear fact that they keep it real, does not bring enough clout to overide the 713 attached to them therefore allowing us to consider them non-clowns. Beyonce has sold out major and it is time she is exposed for it.
"Let me upgrade... lemme lemme lemme, let me upgrade." We have a major problem with this. She could be considered real, due to her relationship with Jay-Z, but the fact that she is from the 713 and she has sold out to DirectTV, present major problems with us.
'>Please check out this link to see how Beyonce sold out.
'>Here is another example of her sellin' out major with American Express
If you 801 readers have any examples or stories of people sellin' out, please feel free to present the ideas to us at kjflan29@yahoo.com We would love to hear them and post them here on our blog.
Remember, stay real, keep keepin' it real and never lose sight. 801 For Life.
Beyonce... known for her backside... now she is known for sellin' out. I would expect a little better from the mistress of a certain real thug, Jay-Z. Although some would consider Jay-Z a sellout, I would argue that he is incapable of being a sell out because of his hardcore roots from the 718, an area code that I respect with the utmost. When I think of the 718, I think of a lot of the same characteristics as a homey from the 801, so that is why I won't front Jay-Z.
But Beyonce is from the 713, an area code that is known for its clowns: ( Dan Rather, Hillary Duff, George Foreman, Kenny Rogers and Patrick Swayze to name a few). Sure, Slim Thug, Lil' Flip, and Mike Jones also hail from the 713 and they keep it real. However, the mear fact that they keep it real, does not bring enough clout to overide the 713 attached to them therefore allowing us to consider them non-clowns. Beyonce has sold out major and it is time she is exposed for it.
"Let me upgrade... lemme lemme lemme, let me upgrade." We have a major problem with this. She could be considered real, due to her relationship with Jay-Z, but the fact that she is from the 713 and she has sold out to DirectTV, present major problems with us.
'>Please check out this link to see how Beyonce sold out.
'>Here is another example of her sellin' out major with American Express
If you 801 readers have any examples or stories of people sellin' out, please feel free to present the ideas to us at kjflan29@yahoo.com We would love to hear them and post them here on our blog.
Remember, stay real, keep keepin' it real and never lose sight. 801 For Life.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Kings of the Castle
It happens all the time. People from other area codes trying to front on the 801. When are people going to learn? Yo, y’all suckas from the 435, 702, 307 and every other area code listen up! WE ARE THE KINGS OF THIS CASTLE WE CALL THE UNITED STATES. That ain’t never gonna change. If you want this crown, come and get it son.
In 2002 this happened. My homeboy Trevor, from the ace deuce, was attending school at
The purpose of our trip was to attend the
My boys and I rolled to the arena in Maize and Blue. From the second we walked in people was frontin’. It was obvious they knew where we was from. I mean, when you are from the 801 you walk with a different swag. Some people call it arrogance, I call it confidence. The confidence that comes from keepin’ it real your whole life.
All game the crowd is mocking us, mimicking our cheers, and talking junk. This was fine. When you are on top of your game this type of thing doesn’t bother you. It is a sign of respect. If you from the 801, you might as well be Floyd Mayweather Jr. when it comes to verbal sparring. You could tell this bothered the crowd. I could read their minds. “They were thinking, how can we rattle these guys?” The answer, you can’t! Playas from the 801 is as calm as
In the second half, tensions mounted. The band, which was right across from us, started talkin’ some serious ish. We simply pointed out the obvious, that anyone in the band generally was a nerd that didn’t have the social skills or physical ability to do anything cool. For some reason this made them mad. I didn’t feel bad though. The truth hurts sometimes. It’s far more important to keep it real than worry about how someone might feel if you do keep it real.
Then it happened. The band crossed over from verbal sparring to physically disrespecting us. This is where thugs from the 801 draw the line. A girl from the band crept down from behind with a Mountain Dew in her hand. As she walked by, she shook up the can, opened it and threw it down at our feet. Immediately she started to run back to the band section.
My immediate reaction was to put the lights out on all those band members. Anger filled my body. I reached to my belt where I happened to have an AK 47 handy when I felt Beau’s hand grab me. He said, “Wait, look.” I turned to my left and watched Kendall, who is Asian and quicker than a cat, pick up the can (which was still full) and throw as hard as he could right into the spine of the girls back. Her reaction was as if she had been hit by a bullet. She fell from the last step to the floor holding her back and rolling around.
The whole band watched in awe. The usher ran over and started to open her mouth. Before she could say a word
Interestingly, I heard something completely different when
South Provo After Dark
I've said it time and time again, South Provo after dark is no place to be if you aren't real.
Something crazy was in the air Thursday night as I headed down to the Seven Peaks Ice Arena with my girl to see my brother-in-law and my cousin play some hockey.
When we pulled into that parking lot, I knew somethin' was goin' down, but I wasn't sure what.
In the 801, if you know somethin' is going down, you come prepared and Thursday night I was prepared.
The hockey team I was watchin' was playing the thugs out of Springville. If you know what I know, then you know Springville produces some serious thugs. These homeboys don't give a rip about nothin'.
My cousin was weavin' in and out of their sorry excuse for a defense all night long. He was layin' out big hits on the ice and leavin' fools calling for their mamas. My Brother-in-Law was workin' the Springville thugs with some serious puck movement and things started gettin' crazy as time ran down and the game ended in a tie.
I stood up in the bleacher cause I knew what was about to happen. My cousin is going through the line to shake hands with the other team and he drops a line or two about them clowns skills.
The Springville thugs start pushin' with my cousin. I'm about to climb up over that plastic wall the separates me from the ice and work some clown, just like any homey out of the 801 would do.
Some bonehead referee is grabbin' up on my cousin and pushin' him towards the locker. I'm thinkin' in my head. This is it man, this is the true 801. This is South Provo after dark. This is real.
I am waiting outside my cousin and brother-in-laws locker room when some Springville thugs walk right by me. Now, it's a good thing that there were two singles wards having an activity that night and they were all off the ice waiting for the Zamboni, cause that kept me from getting through the crowd to work these clowns from S-Town.
Things seemed to have calmed down a bit and everything seemed to be fine... to everyone else. But I have grown up in this area code, I know the 801 like I know the latest grillz available from Icedoutgear.com., so I knew things weren't as calm as everyone else figured them to be.
I saw my cousin head for the door, and I'll be honest with you, I let my guard down. I was distracted by some fool who dropped his IPod, and I was waiting to see who would step on it first, him or one of his friends.
In the 801, you should never let yourself be distracted, cause that is when the bad things happen, and on this rainy night at the Peaks Arena, bad happened and it happened fast.
I grab my girl and walk outside the arena, only to find my cousin, leaning over in the parking lot, bleeding from his nose and mouth and with one of his teeth knocked in. My 801 instincts kicked in and I couldn't help the adrenaline and the anger that fueled up inside me. My cousin fights through the pain to yell out the license plate number and the type of car. At this moment, I forget all about the rain and my own safety. I become like a predator to the prey. I go bustin' through that parking lot, running as fast as I can, I get to the end of the parking lot, just to see that car go past.
I'm standin' there in the rain thinking to myself... had I not let my guard down and watched that dudes IPod, I could have been out there when these Springville thugs were jumpin' my boy. This just shows that in the 801, you have to be ready for anything. You can't afford to be distracted.
Of course my family is all about callin' the Po-Po's, but I'm like, let me enforce the law, let me show these thugs what happens in the 801 when you cross a homey's boy. I only wish I could have had Remy Ma there when this went down.
The 801 is real, and on this night, I witnessed the reality first hand.
Something crazy was in the air Thursday night as I headed down to the Seven Peaks Ice Arena with my girl to see my brother-in-law and my cousin play some hockey.
When we pulled into that parking lot, I knew somethin' was goin' down, but I wasn't sure what.
In the 801, if you know somethin' is going down, you come prepared and Thursday night I was prepared.
The hockey team I was watchin' was playing the thugs out of Springville. If you know what I know, then you know Springville produces some serious thugs. These homeboys don't give a rip about nothin'.
My cousin was weavin' in and out of their sorry excuse for a defense all night long. He was layin' out big hits on the ice and leavin' fools calling for their mamas. My Brother-in-Law was workin' the Springville thugs with some serious puck movement and things started gettin' crazy as time ran down and the game ended in a tie.
I stood up in the bleacher cause I knew what was about to happen. My cousin is going through the line to shake hands with the other team and he drops a line or two about them clowns skills.
The Springville thugs start pushin' with my cousin. I'm about to climb up over that plastic wall the separates me from the ice and work some clown, just like any homey out of the 801 would do.
Some bonehead referee is grabbin' up on my cousin and pushin' him towards the locker. I'm thinkin' in my head. This is it man, this is the true 801. This is South Provo after dark. This is real.
I am waiting outside my cousin and brother-in-laws locker room when some Springville thugs walk right by me. Now, it's a good thing that there were two singles wards having an activity that night and they were all off the ice waiting for the Zamboni, cause that kept me from getting through the crowd to work these clowns from S-Town.
Things seemed to have calmed down a bit and everything seemed to be fine... to everyone else. But I have grown up in this area code, I know the 801 like I know the latest grillz available from Icedoutgear.com., so I knew things weren't as calm as everyone else figured them to be.
I saw my cousin head for the door, and I'll be honest with you, I let my guard down. I was distracted by some fool who dropped his IPod, and I was waiting to see who would step on it first, him or one of his friends.
In the 801, you should never let yourself be distracted, cause that is when the bad things happen, and on this rainy night at the Peaks Arena, bad happened and it happened fast.
I grab my girl and walk outside the arena, only to find my cousin, leaning over in the parking lot, bleeding from his nose and mouth and with one of his teeth knocked in. My 801 instincts kicked in and I couldn't help the adrenaline and the anger that fueled up inside me. My cousin fights through the pain to yell out the license plate number and the type of car. At this moment, I forget all about the rain and my own safety. I become like a predator to the prey. I go bustin' through that parking lot, running as fast as I can, I get to the end of the parking lot, just to see that car go past.
I'm standin' there in the rain thinking to myself... had I not let my guard down and watched that dudes IPod, I could have been out there when these Springville thugs were jumpin' my boy. This just shows that in the 801, you have to be ready for anything. You can't afford to be distracted.
Of course my family is all about callin' the Po-Po's, but I'm like, let me enforce the law, let me show these thugs what happens in the 801 when you cross a homey's boy. I only wish I could have had Remy Ma there when this went down.
The 801 is real, and on this night, I witnessed the reality first hand.
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