So, I’m thinking about buying these boots. Actually, I’ve pretty much made my mind up. Just need to sleep on it one more day.
In the meantime, here’s what it would sound like if the hood black guy drug dealer from my math class, junior year of high school, was contemplating the same purchase:
“Oh shit! Oh shit! I din’ even tell you, son. Oh shit. I’m ‘bout to buy the freshest shit, young’n. Oh my God, kid… they’re muh-fuckin’, muh-fuckin’, um, boots, but, nah, they’re like the brown joints…oh shit, you don’t even know wussup wit the brown shits. I was about to buy ‘em yesterday on the web, and I was like, nah, I don’t wanna be acting all pressed and shit. But you gonna be like, ‘oh shit!’ when you see me. The leather shit is so fuckin’ soft, son, you don’t even know. I’mma rock the shit out of ‘em wit like a pair a brown cords… but nah, but nah, check it though, you can rock ‘em with blue jeans too! Oh shit, you feel me on that shit? They’re like all versatile and shit. Dress dem bitches up, or you can dress ‘em down.
“I’m buyin them shits soon as I get home. Bam. “