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“Martin” Sucks. I Stand by That.

Submitted by AllyJeans at 2005-06-14 01:00:07 EDT
Rating: 1.72 on 26 ratings (26 reviews) (Review this item) (V)

My first year in college was pretty grueling. I had to learn all sorts of new rules about life and dealing with other people. Frankly, I was way over my head. That first year, I learned it was socially acceptable to wear a shirt that said “cum dumpster,” that the only thing wrong with being shitfaced was to let the RA find out, and that I was a racist.

I didn’t know I was racist. I walked into my dorm room on the first day feeling very Berkley, with a tie-dyed t-shirt, a pony tail, and a copy of Malcom X that I read six or seven times. My liberal, hippy parents had done there job well—at least I thought they did.

On the first day of orientation, I settled in and sent my parents away. I spent the first fifteen minutes controlling the lump in my throat as I came to grips with being officially in the system and away from my family. My brick and mortar confines reminded me that I was no longer a flowers and puppies kind of gal, but an entity free of gender restrictions, ready to start my adventure into the great unknown.

A few sobs later, I adjusted to my new prison and unpacked all my stuff. It was strange, mostly because I expected to see my roommate when I walked in. I don’t know why, but whenever I pictured the movie of my life, I always thought I would walk in to my sunny room and run into my new, quirky roommate, who would show me her dildo, and the proper way to fold hospital corners.

Holding a broom handle aloft I realized I would play the part of the quirky roommate. I shoved it under the bed and sat on the edge waiting to start the scene. My roommate arrived late, though, a couple hours after I got there. By that time, I was watching TV, the sun was setting, and I was off my mark.

My new roommate was a black girl, somewhat pudgy, with a concerned look and a big streamer trunk. I stood up and shook her hand as she glanced around at my decorations, including a poster of the care bears and a sexy profile shot of Mark McGrath.

“We need to talk.”

Two minutes into our introductions and we needed to have a talk. This didn’t look good. I pulled up a chair and she did as well. She positioned herself between the window and me. It was weird, but with the setting sun, it almost looked like she had a halo over her head. This would fuck with me for weeks afterwards.

“My name is Mary,” she said, “and I’m a born again Christian.

I straightened my shoulders and smiled broadly. “Cool.”

“I don’t masturbate.”

I tried to look as hip as possible, like everyone I had ever met made a point to tell me such things. “Really?”

“Yeah. I tried it once and I didn’t like it. I don’t see the point.”

I wanted to tell her that she was probably doing it wrong, but I held my tongue. “Whatever.”

She relaxed. “I like video games, though.”

That made sense. If she was going to do something other than make it with guys or flick her button, I guess a game of “Super Mario World” was a good substitute. I’m not ashamed to admit that sometimes I play on my Super NES. Everyone does it—even if some won’t admit it.

The rest of the conversation wasn’t that interesting. She’d say something and I’d nod my head. In the terms of my generation, I guess I wasn’t ready to fully interface. You can’t blame me after the masturbation comment. What about my room made her think I was too free with my hand/broom handle? Was it Sunshine bear? Was it Mark McGrath and his shiny leather ass…or was it me? Was my look screaming: “Compulsive masturbator?” For a time I thought about bringing it up and asking her why she felt compelled to tell me about her “practices.” I didn’t though, and eventually we struck up an agreeable relationship. Sure, occasionally, she would bring in converts and spend an hour or so telling them about Christ, but I got by. During those sessions, I hid under my covers and listened to my Spanish tapes. I got an A.

When she wasn’t preaching she was relatively normal. We even chuckled once or twice. Then she brought up “Martin.”

We were in our bunks and chatting about a professor or something, and we somehow digressed to sitcoms.

“I love “Martin,” she said, “that show is so…funny.

“I don’t really like it.”

Silence. “Why?”

I don’t know. It’s just Martin yelling ‘GINA!’ for twenty minutes while the rest of the cast makes dumb jokes. I can’t get into it.

More silence. I could hear my roomie breathing so I knew she was still alive. Eventually she cleared her throat and summoned my attention.

“You know,” she said, “every now and then you’re a bit racist.”

“What are you talking about?” I turned on my side “Is this because I don’t like ‘Martin?’”

“Well…”

I laughed. “Please…I don’t like the ‘Brady Bunch,’ but it isn’t because they are a bunch of paste face honkies—give me some credit.”

She made a “tisk, tisk” noise. “See there you go.”

“What?”

No answer.

“I can’t call white people Honkies? Come on!”

“The only reason you said that was to imply that “Martin” was an N-word.”

I threw my head back against my pillow. “I did not!”

“Sure, whatever.”

If someone figures out how to win an argument like this give me a call. I spent the next hour relaying my knowledge of black history, from the triangle trade to Nipsey Russell. I thought it might show I was more than an ignorant white girl.

When I was done she said. “You forgot to mention that they threw pregnant women off of the slave ships.”

With a grunt, I closed my eyes sighed heavily. “Look, I’m, not racist and Martin sucks. Good night.”

I changed roommates after that first year. I would wave at Mary in passing, but that was about it. From what I saw, she ended up softening on her Christian image by graduation. After a senior trip to a dirty, disgusting watering hole, she was drunker than drunk and kept yelling, “Somebody’s fucking Mary tonight!” It was fairly out of character, but so was pissing on the bus seat on the way back. After lifting my legs to avoid the sweeping puddle under my feet, I came to the conclusion there was no way I would ever figure her out.









nipseyrussell.jpg
nipseyrussell.jpg


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Reviews


Submitted by Brdn_Nkd at 2007-09-05 14:41:43 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by spamtrap50 at 2005-08-22 19:03:18 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by Siren (user info) at 2005-06-14 02:00:17 (#)
Ranking: 2

I hate Martin and Christians. How 'bout them apples.
---------------------------------------------------------
I don't hate all Christians. Just preachy ones.

Submitted by williamson at 2005-08-11 06:30:34 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

To win an argument with a christian, an impossible endeavour.

Submitted by rad1101 at 2005-08-11 06:20:26 EDT (#)
Rating: 0

spellcheck is not a valid form of proofreading.

Submitted by Berty at 2005-08-11 06:06:24 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Christians are like spiders, they are much more afraid of you than you are of them. That's how you win arguments with them: intimidation. Funny stuff, but what's with the care bears poster? That shit is wack.

Submitted by Bornloser at 2005-08-10 18:33:23 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

I noticed that a lot of people missed a very important point in their rankings, the fact that Martin Lawrence is the most redundant man I have ever scene on the big screen or the little one. In case everyone hasn’t noticed, all his movies are the same. He just runs around teaming himself with unhips white people and then teaches them the ways of the street to change their whole personal in 93 minutes. He makes me sick. You rock on the other hand.

Submitted by Dead_0hi0_Sky at 2005-08-10 17:54:19 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

have i rated this before?





fuck it.


(another?) +2

Submitted by Unabonger at 2005-08-10 17:29:56 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

i want to have your abortion.

Submitted by MyNameIsTim at 2005-08-10 17:01:25 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

yhore good.

Submitted by JonnyX at 2005-06-14 20:04:38 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

auto+2 for Nipsey

Submitted by Deidra at 2005-06-14 13:12:59 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by WhatDoesThisButtonDo at 2005-06-14 12:24:13 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Apparently my dislike of rap makes me racist. :'(

Submitted by d_prime at 2005-06-14 11:54:31 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

People with two first names piss me off.

Wait, you're probably not talking about Paul Martin.. but still. In order to know that, I'd have had to read the post.

Submitted by c1ndy at 2005-06-14 11:36:48 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

bus seat!

Submitted by piowufbhwervnerfnc at 2005-06-14 08:23:34 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

I'll admit.
I masturbate.
Constantly.
To pictures of BartBart.
In drag.



WHAT???

Submitted by Davros at 2005-06-14 04:58:19 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Nice.

-Dave

Submitted by Chillax at 2005-06-14 04:33:23 EDT (#)
Rating: 1

I feel I cannot give you a +2 as you have heiniously insulted a name close to my heart.

No masturbation!? How? How do people do that?

http://www.ubersite.com/cgi-bin/message_get.cgi?message=1118181590956832091

Submitted by mrwolf at 2005-06-14 04:22:21 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

This was great in so many ways.

Submitted by A-Daamage at 2005-06-14 03:31:31 EDT (#)
Rating: 1

Yah, kind of missed that last paragraph. Blame it on ADHD, like every doctor on the planet, so I can get free drugs, okay?

Submitted by shitfuck at 2005-06-14 02:48:18 EDT (#)
Rating: 2


I don't masterbate?

Wang chung tonight baby.

Submitted by simple_catalyst at 2005-06-14 02:40:02 EDT (#)
Rating: 1

kudos

Submitted by AllyJeans at 2005-06-14 02:12:28 EDT (#)
Rating: 0

Submitted by dodahdave (user info) at 2005-06-14 01:40:05 (#)
Ranking: 1

Martin Lawrence sucks my left one.

Resist the urge to qualify your likes/dislikes along racial boundaries ("I also dislike this white guy and that latino girl"): you can't win, and it makes it sound like you're trying too hard.

You like whom you do, and dislike whom you do. No apologies necessary.

____________________________________________________________________

I don't know, dave. It seemed appropriate.

She thought I didn't like "Martin" because it was a black show. I assumed if I could show that I hated white shows (and that it wasn't for racial reasons) that I'd show her the error of her reasoning.

I didn't feel like I was trying too hard. The analogy popped in my head almost immediately. I think I tried too hard when I went into the entire history of African Americans in the United States, just to prove I was "in tune" with Black culture.



...and A-D, haha, where did you stop reading?

Submitted by tinactin at 2005-06-14 02:09:44 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

You'll find that most of us will admit we like video games

Submitted by Siren at 2005-06-14 02:00:17 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

I hate Martin and Christians. How 'bout them apples.

Submitted by dodahdave at 2005-06-14 01:40:05 EDT (#)
Rating: 1

Martin Lawrence sucks my left one.

Resist the urge to qualify your likes/dislikes along racial boundaries ("I also dislike this white guy and that latino girl"): you can't win, and it makes it sound like you're trying too hard.

You like whom you do, and dislike whom you do. No apologies necessary.

Submitted by A-Daamage at 2005-06-14 01:21:03 EDT (#)
Rating: 1

You simply need to remind her that she is no less than morbidly stupid and treat her constantly as an inferior. Also, point out every mistake she makes, no matter how inane it may appear to be. Eventually she'll crack and have to find another roommate, leaving you an opportunity to find a more suitable roommate, which could be filled by a semi-retarded cheerleader (being redundant is fun!) from the sound of your situation. Beware of born-again Christians. They have more agendas than GW with a coke buzz.

And Martin Lawrence is the most unfunny comedian since Joan Rivers.


Why did this have to happen now, during prime time, when TV's
brightest stars come out to shine?

-- Homer Simpson
Brother Can You Spare Two Dimes?