I live in a quasi - old folk’s home in the projects.
Why “quasi - old folk’s home” - I think PMC is where spunky upperclassmen go to live out their college years in relative peace and tranquility. The suite environment allows the kids to continue their participation in those oh so fun indiscretions of youth, because no one can bust them for downing forties in their room if no one knows about it!
See, in traditional halls you have to yak in the same toilets that Wanda, your bushy-eyebrowed hallmate uses. Partying doon, if you will, is a public event in other halls.
This suite - liberation has a curious reversal effect, however. You see, the thrill of the chase, the danger in the chance is gone, and so the kids of PMC are all mellow. The “old folks” that live here enjoy watching TLC on Saturday nights, instead of going out to boogie at the club. PMC kids’ idea of a perfect date involves a healthy serving of fat-free angelfood cake and some fuzzy slippers… Or maybe that’s just me.
Regardless, you may still be wondering why do I say I live in the “projects.” The answer is simple. PMC consists of subsidized government housing. If you think about it, that is what the projects are. These hallowed cinderblock homes are just fancy-assed ghetto cribs.
And all I have to say is, watch out 50 Cent, there’s a new Ho in the hood and I’m representing at this hizzy. Pass the government cheese.
So I have to chuckle. Everytime someone complains about PMC’s ac, ants, flooding, peeling paint, I think it could be worse. At least we don’t have any shady crack dealers in our study lounges, we don’t have any hookers named “Vixen” offering 5 dollah sucky sucky in our kitchen, nor do we have homeless men writing their names with urine our the stairwells.
I guess not every government project can be this f*a*b*u*l*o*u*s.