Hundreds of Hoes dressed in skin tight clothing and six inch heels. Synthetic Hair and eye lashes faker than a four dollar bill. Men lined up from wall to wall, their head in a tizzy, not knowing which ass to stare at. No, this is not the club, it’s the mall. All Star Weekend has come and gone and hurricane Ka-Ratchet hit Los Angeles with the force of a Gabourey Sidibe lap dance. As we walked the mall, somewhere between Wet Seal and the Pinkberry, I had an epiphany. Life would suck without Hoes.
I’m sick of people bad mouthing Hoes. It’s so easy to judge a Hoe; no one wants to understand these Hoes. So I want to give a shout out to the Hoes who came out to LA this weekend and wore short skirts in the rain. The Hoes that did their homework and studied the roster of every NBA team so they wouldn’t get fooled by some random tall nigga. Can I give a round of applause to the beautiful bitches who packed into hotel rooms four to a bed, and extra kudos to the fat friend who paid extra and still ended up sleeping on the floor? Let’s stand up for the naïve eye candy that stood outside the Highlands with only $20 in her fake Louie Bag hoping that her looks would get her into the club the same way it has in her hometown. Let’s hear it for the freaks who unselfishly fucked a broke nigga because there was nothing else to do after leaving Roscoe’s. But truthfully this blog is dedicated to the bad hoes who fucked an NBA player so good that she’s now being flown out to Miami for round 2… may his seamen bless you with your own VH1 show. Women are quick to classify other women as Hoes. No woman says she’s a Hoe, but a lot of you allow yourselves to be treated like a Hoe. The Hoe is not the bad guy, in her mind she’s just “getting hers”. Maybe the public school system failed her and now she’s trying to come up on something that will make her life easier. I respect Hoes more than I respect freaks who give it up for free. If you’re going to get smutted out, why not get something out ...