Hello, thuggish miscreants.
I’m sure you already come to my blog every day, but in the off-chance that this is your first time, allow me to pop your cherry right.
As most people know, the fashion statement of sagging your pants past your ass began in the prisons, letting your jail pals know they can totally stick in and you won’t give a shit. (HA! Good one, Sharon.)
Since then, it’s become more of a, “Don’t fuck with me cuz I’ma G” message, even though it most definitely started as a, “Go ahead and fuck with me, it’s cool” kinda thing. The irony!
Some states/cities/schools are completely against this piece of crap style statement (whyyyy do you insist on having to constantly keep pulling up your pants? It’s like a bad strapless bra, but on purpose.), but I think there’s always an exception to the rule. Never say never, you guys. Bieber wasn’t fucking around.
Observe, an exception.
I like you. Victory is, indeed, yours.
That concludes this lesson in pants sagging and its rare exceptions.