A Parody of 1999

Just a gangbangin' finger-lickin' disclaimer, dis Snoop Bloggy-Blogg is ghon be updated every last muthafuckin once up in a while, so check back if you wanna peep more.

“Da year is nineteen-ninety-nine.”

That sentence brangs me back ta mah ballin' kindergarten class when I was five muthafuckin years old, where we used ta read up tha date on tha blackboard every last muthafuckin single day. It make me wanna hollar playa! Da year 1999 exists as a stain up in mind however, as a memory dat aint gonna go away no matter how tha fuck I try ta forget dat shit. 1999 marked tha year I lost mah first tooth, mah last time on a plane, n' unfortunately tha early loss of mah childhood innocence.

That one memory dat refuses ta be wiped, all dat shiznit started wit dat freshly smoked up (Or old) TV fo' realz. At dat time Pokémon was tha sickest fuckin fad ta hit tha school. Pokémon cards, games, stickers, n' da most thugged-out popular, tha TV show. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So of course every last muthafuckin time I came home from school, I would stay glued ta tha TV until Pokémon came on at five. Da only problem was dat mah daddy peeped tha shizzle at 5:30, n' Pokémon episodes was back-to-back, which meant I had ta miss a episode everyday, suttin' I whined on n' on about. My fuckin daddy gots pissed wit hearin me diss everyday, dat must be why da thug went n' looted another TV.

My fuckin daddy put tha TV his thugged-out lil' punk-ass looted up in mah room, unfortunately dat shiznit was just a old, lil' small-ass boob tube, wit rabbit ears even. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Well shiiiit, it also only had 20 channels available; not includin tha channel Pokémon was on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I recall I didn’t care though, I was just thrilled I had mah own TV up in mah room fo' realz. After surfin all up in tha channels, I came ta tha conclusion dat only channel 2 (TVO kids) was worth watchin so I peeped dat fo' a while. Well shiiiit, it wasn’t fo' another few months until I discovered channel 21. One dizzle up in April, I was flippin all up in tha channels, tryin ta peep if Pokémon was on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I pressed channel 21 tha fuck into tha remote, hopin there was mo' channels, n' ta mah delight there was. My fuckin daddy was surprised too yo, but he let me peep it cuz it seemed ta have lil playas programs on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da channel was called Caledon Local. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. 21 n' later I found up dat shiznit was indeed broadcasted from tha hood of Caledon, Ontario, a hood straight-up close ta mah hood.

Da shows I saw on Caledon Local 21 looked skankyly made, n' I never understood what tha fuck was goin on up in dem half tha time yo. However as I grew up, every last muthafuckin time I thought of dat channel, I realized mo' n' mo' how tha fuck messed up tha shows was n' I had ta ask mah dirty ass “What tha fuck was I watching?”

Da followin be a list of shows n' episodes I remember seein on Caledon Local 21, how tha fuck I remember such detail even disturbs me yo, but I guess thangs like dis standz up in yo' mind fo' a while. There was only three shows I could find on tha channel, probably cuz tha channel was only operationizzle between 4:00pm n' 9:00pm Booby-Episode 6: “Together”: I recall Booby was a show where tha charactas was simply live action hands, no puppets or anything, just hands. Da show featured a hand named Booby whoz ass found his dirty ass up in a freshly smoked up thang every last muthafuckin episode. Da show was only 5 minutes long, n' looked like it gots popped up in front of a thugged-out damp, decayin wall, wit tha handz always on a table wit a red table cloth(Straight-up low budget obviously). This was tha straight-up original gangsta episode I watched. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da episode fuckin started wit Booby tryin ta git ketchup outta a funky-ass bottle. Well shiiiit, it straight-up flossed his ass whoopin his dirty ass against tha bottom of tha forty fo' like 3 minutes. Finally another hand came by n' looked at Booby. “Together” Da other hand holla'd, n' it fuckin started whoopin tha forty as well, until some ketchup finally squirted up all over tha table (I remember chucklin slightly at dis part). Booby then stared all up in tha ketchup mess fo' all dem seconds, before turnin towardz tha camera as it slowly zoomed up in on his muthafuckin ass.
 * April, 1999

Mista MuthafuckinBear’s Cellar-Episode 12 : Straight-up sketchy name if you was ta peep it now a thugged-out days. Da show featured a muthafucka bustin a funky-ass bear mascot costume whoz ass would git a freshly smoked up visitor tha fuck into his cellar everydizzle (Dat shiznit was always a kid). Da show was filmed wit a cold-ass lil camcorder n' not a straight-up phat one either n' shit. Da five-o axed mah crazy ass a shitload of thangs bout dis show. This episode started wit Mista Muthafuckin Bear chillin at a table playin checkers by his dirty ass (I didn’t recognize it at first yo, but tha table was tha same ol' dirty one from Booby) yo. Dude sat there playin fo' a lil' bit until there was a knock on tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Da camera was then lookin up tha stairs all up in tha door, where there was another knock. Mista Muthafuckin Bear climbed tha stairs, n' opened tha door ta reveal 2 lil' lil' thugs. One was a funky-ass pimp bout mah age, n' tha other was a hoe whoz ass looked bout 8. Mista Muthafuckin Bear danced up in delight, n' then started rappin' ta tha kids; I couldn’t hear any of dem dat well I remember though cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. Mista Muthafuckin Bear then lead tha lil playas tha fuck into tha cellar, which was like dark, only lit by a lil' small-ass oil lamp on tha table. I can’t straight-up remember dat much more, except his ass rappin a cold lil' woo wop which I couldn’t hear too well either (Probably cuz of dat big-ass bear mask). Da episode ended wit dem playin hide-and-seek, wit tha lil playas hidin up in a cold-ass lil closet, n' Mista Muthafuckin Bear counting. Soup n' Spoon: I don’t be thinkin dis was even a show, I be thinkin dat shiznit was mo' of a special porno thang fo' realz. All I know is I stopped watchin Caledon Local 21 fo' a while cuz I thought dis show was too stupid, especially since Pokemon now came on at 4:30 n' 5:00. I don’t remember much of dis yo, but it flossed a cold-ass lil can of chronic n' a spoon both attached ta strings, swingin back n' forth, as if one of mah thugs was holdin dem n' danglin dem up in front of tha camera. Interestingly enough, tha show gots popped up in a funky-ass basement, which looked just like tha one used up in Mista Muthafuckin Bear’s Cellar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Like I holla'd, I can’t remember much, tha only thang I can remember clearly was tha end yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin'. Da entire thang was only half a hour, n' just include shiznit I found stupid, like fuckin tha spoon chasin tha chronic round tryin ta “Eat him”. Da endin flossed a table (Da one from Booby once again) n' bout 7 lil playas chillin round it, each wit a funky-ass bowl of chronic up in front of his muthafuckin ass. They was chillin n' lookin all up in tha camera yo, but wit confused, almost frightened faces. Da camera playa then held tha can of chronic up in front of tha lil playas n' holla'd “Spooooons ready?” And then it just stopped. Dat shiznit was summer, n' I hadn’t peeped channel 21 fo' a while. Until one dizzle when I slept over at mah playa’s doggy den I decided ta check it up again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. My fuckin playa had gotten a TV up in his bangin room fo' his sixth birthday, so we stayed up straight-up late (For us, 9:30 was straight-up late) n' peeped TV. That’s when I remembered channel 21 n' brought it up ta mah playa yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin'. Us dudes decided ta peep if dat shiznit was on, n' ta our surprise dat shiznit was (They must have chizzled tha broadcastin time).
 * May 1999
 * July 1999

Mista Muthafuckin Bear’s Cellar-Episode 23: This episode was entertainin fo' mah playa n' I, mainly cuz it had sbustin. But fuck dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat now when I be thinkin of dis episode, I realize suttin' was definitely wack when dat shiznit was filmed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da episode started wit tha camera on its side, while dat shiznit was facin Mista Muthafuckin Bear, whoz ass was struttin up stairs ta tha cellar door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Da camera then blacked up fo' on some second, before fadin in, back upright, n' facin Mista Muthafuckin Bear. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. There was also another kid rappin' ta his ass yo, but dis kid looked bout 11 or 12 yo. Dude was rappin' ta Mista Muthafuckin Bear fo' a while yo, but I couldn’t hear well (Again wit tha crappy camcorder) until tha kid started raisin his voice. Da kid was sayin how tha fuck dat shiznit was late n' his sista had ta bounce back ta tha doggy den, you could also hear mo' voices up in tha background. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I remember Mista Muthafuckin Bear clearly sayin “Git tha fuck out, you not invited” wit a thugged-out deep voice muffled by tha bear mask. I remember mah playa n' I lookin at each other n' bustin up all up in tha mention of tha forbidden F word yo, but tha episode gots weirder n' shit. Da kid fuckin started climbin tha stairs before turnin round n' sayin how tha fuck da thug was goin ta booty-call tha police. Mista Muthafuckin Bear fuckin started breakin tha fuck into a run towardz tha kid, whoz ass started beatboxin n' hustlin as well. Da camera then cut out, n' dat was tha end of tha episode. Da channel then turned ta static shortly after.

Booby-episode 42: “Playin wit scissors”: One wet-ass afternoon I was bored, so I decided ta peep channel 21. When I started watching, some show on some muthafucka chillin up in a arm chair was just finishing, I forget what tha fuck dat shiznit was bout though cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. When I first saw dis episode, I thought dat shiznit was fo' teenagers cuz it had blood up in it, n' dat shiznit was straight-up gross. When tha five-o holla'd at mah crazy ass every last muthafuckin thang, I now know whoz ass tha blood belonged to. Da episode flossed Booby n' another hand wit a ribbon round tha pinkie finger (Booby’s hoe). Booby was holdin scissors n' hoppin round back n' forth, while his wild lil' freakadelic hoe slowly swung round aimlessly fo' realz. Another hand blasted onto tha scene, dis hand was smalla though n' was jerkin round violently, as if one of mah thugs under tha table was forcin tha hand (And I later found up dis was tha case) “Scissors is straight-up fucked up kids, so hold dem safely” Booby holla'd ta tha camera. I noticed I could also hear muffled screams yo, but I wasn’t shizzle where dat shiznit was comin from cuz of tha wack sound quality. Booby’s hoe grabbed tha smalla hand, which was thrashin about, n' Booby went at it wit tha scissors yo. Dude started wit tha thumb, Dude opened tha scissors wide n' clasped dem onto tha thumb, blood fuckin started oozin up n' tha muffled screams was now straight-up loud. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! My fuckin five year oldschool self was straight-up grossed up n' that’s when I decided maybe Booby was a show meant fo' teenagers or grown ups. Then tha scissors gots ta tha bone, a wack crunchin noise was heard, n' that’s when I turned tha TV off. I never discussed it wit mah daddy cuz I feared da thug would limit mah TV time. I didn’t wanna peep channel 21 afta dat Booby episode. In August I grew mo' curious ta peep Mista Muthafuckin Bear’s cellar fo' some reason though cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. Da last episode I saw of Mista Muthafuckin Bear was weird, n' had sbustin, which also made me be thinkin tha show was meant fo' teenagers. Nonetheless, I flipped onto channel 21 when mah daddy was busy.
 * August, 1999

Mista Muthafuckin Bear’s Cellar-Episode 28: Apparently dis episode had been playin tha entire month of August. This episode was studied a shitload by tha police. Da entire episode was just Mista Muthafuckin Bear chillin up in a cold-ass lil chair rappin' ta tha crew. “Wuz crackalackin' kidz muthafucka! Do you wanna visit mah cellar, biatch? If you do, please write me a letter at dis address!” Da screen then switched ta a white screen wit multi-coloured lettas readin tha address, n' dat was what tha fuck remained fo' tha rest of tha episode.

And Guess what tha fuck I straight-up did, biatch? I busted “Mista Muthafuckin Bear”, or dat sick bastard whoz ass portrayed his ass a letter n' shit. I done did it outta curiositizzle mostly; mah daddy was OK wit it cuz tha pimpin' muthafucka thought dat shiznit was a legit kid show yo, but then again n' again n' again he never saw any of what tha fuck was on channel 21. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So I freestyled a letter rockin mah dopest freestylin possible, I be thinkin I just holla'd how tha fuck I wanted ta hook up Mista Muthafuckin Bear, n' if Booby also lived up in tha cellar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So mah daddy busted tha letter ta tha address Mista Muthafuckin Bear holla'd on tha show (It stayed on all dizzle anyway fo' some reason.)

It took on some week ta git a response, which I was surprised I done did. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I still have tha letter I received August 15, 1999. Da letter read:

“Dear Elliot, Nuff props eva so-much fo' yo' letter, I would ludd ta have you up in mah cellar playa! We play games, peep pornos, n' go fire campin up in tha middle of tha woods!

“And fo'sho, Booby do live up in mah cellar; he be a phat playa of mine!

“Come ta mah doggy den at (Da five-o cut up dis address), 'Caledon', 'Ontario', 'CA'.

“I look straight-up forward ta havin funk wit you, nahmean biiiatch?

Ludd Mista Muthafuckin Bear”

I can not believe mah daddy never found dis sketchy, cuz he straight-up took me ta tha crib fo' realz. And then that’s when tha five-o became involved, dem endless thangs, dem picturez of terrified kids, tha woods……

That brangs me ta why I’m freestylin dis blog, dat psycho n' his wild lil' playaz did some fucked up shiznit back then, n' now it seems he’s tryin ta git tha fuck into contact me again, tha entire five-o thang is comin back. That has brought 1999 back ta me, over a thugged-out decade later it is goin down again. Muthafuckas done been emailin me askin what tha fuck exactly happened up in 1999, I'ma git ta dis shit. Those weird TV shows I was watchin apparently was meant ta attract lil playas ta Mista Muthafuckin Bearz house, what tha fuck Mista Muthafuckin Bear did shocked tha entire town.
 * 1999. [Update]-09/21/11

My fuckin daddy straight-up drove me ta Caledon along wit tha address Mista MuthafuckinBear left on tha letter n' shit. Da doggy den was straight-up up in tha up skirtz of tha town, up in tha open farmland. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I still remember dat house. Well shiiiit, it looked like a olda farmhouse dat looked ta done been built up in tha early 1900s. Da windows was all boarded up, n' tha doggy den looked up in a state of disrepair fo' realz. As we strutted up ta tha house, I remember mah daddy checkin tha address over n' over again n' again n' again n' lookin all up in tha doggy den up in disbelief. Then tha door opened. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I expected Mista MuthafuckinBear ta be all up in tha door yo, but I was surprised ta peep a five-o fool emerge from tha creakin door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Da fool fuckin started rappin' ta mah dad, while I quickly axed if dat was Mista Muthafuckin Bearz house. Da foolz grill cringed slightly n' muttered "Oh God" or suttin' like that, Dude started rappin' on tha fuckin' down-lowly ta mah daddy so I couldn't hear, although mah daddy holla'd at mah crazy ass ta git all up in tha hoopty anyway fo' realz. And then our laid-back asses just went home. My fuckin daddy was on tha down-low tha whole way home. I felt suttin' strange had happened.

My fuckin daddy never holla'd at mah crazy ass what tha fuck happened fo' a while, I forgot bout it anyway like a muthafucka. Channel 21 no longer came on, n' when I axed bout it mah daddy would not acknowledge its existence. I be thinkin dat shiznit was when I was 13 where I hustled tha real deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. I remembered channel 21 one day, n' axed mah daddy bout dat shit. I guess he finally decided I should hear tha real deal.

Caledon Local 21 was a local TV channel dat ran from October 1997-August 1999 up in tha Peel Region of Ontario. Da entire channel was made from a doggy den up in Caledon (Da one I hit up) n' run by a playa whoz ass was not straight-up known by mah playas up in tha town. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da channel was only available ta olda TVs cuz tha signal was one only picked up by rabbit ears (Weaker frequency). Da playa pimped all tha shows on tha channel, all of which was kid shows yo. His hand was Booby, Dude was Mista Muthafuckin Bear, n' da thug was tha mysterious cameraman. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da real reason his schmoooove ass pimped tha channel was mo' disturbin than what tha fuck was originally thought fo' realz. As you might have already guessed, he kidnapped lil playas n' held dem up in his cellar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. But while most playas though da thug was a serial lil pimp molester, he straight-up wanted ta use tha lil playas fo' another purpose. Da dizzle I arrived, tha playa had fled his fuckin lil' doggy den tha night before, tha dizzle before tha five-o went up in fo' they investigation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I wasn't tha only one whoz ass was watching. Sorry fo' not answerin any thangs fo' so long, I haven’t accessed mah email account fo' some time fo' realz. Anyway let me finally set thangs straight bout what tha fuck I know. Back up in October, I hit up tha doggy den previously owned by tha playa whoz ass ran Caledon Local 21. Two dem hoes lived there, operatin a thugged-out dizzle care bidnizz……how ironic. Now ta answer tha thangs you muthafuckas emailed ta me:
 * [Update]-11/09/11
 * Q: Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck else peeped Caledon' Local 21?

A: I know other playas peeped it fo' sure, includin dem lil playas whoz ass wound up at Mista Muthafuckin Bear’s crib fo' realz. After some google searches, I found all dem playas on tha Neoseeker forums whoz ass was discussin shows from Caledon Local 21. They talked bout tha lil playas shows I peeped it yo, but also two other shows I had never peeped before fo' realz. A user named iamreallife seemed ta know all tha shows dat was broadcasted on channel 21; here is tha two I’ve never heard of:
 * Da Fallen Angel n' Life - iamreallife busted lyrics bout it as a gangbangin' fairly borin show on some muthafucka ramblin on n' on up in front of tha camera bout how tha fuck we must please Satan n' appease his ass before it is too late.
 * Paint With Da Soul - iamreallife n' another user called sigy92 was discussin dis show. They busted lyrics bout it as “Blair Witch like” as it consisted of tha cameraman wanderin round a gangbangin' forest at night, bustin not a god damn thang particularly interesting.

I’ll go lookin fo' tha conversation n' peep if I can git tha link.
 * Q: Where is Mista Muthafuckin Bear, or tha muthafucka whoz ass wore tha costume?

A: If I did know, I would have holla'd earlier n' shit. I have no clue where dis muthafucka is, if he’s dead or kickin it (Hopefully dead). When I peep mah dad’s playa next time I'ma ask his ass bout this, maybe I can git a mo' definite answer.

Q: What did Mista Muthafuckin Bear do ta tha children?

A: This is by far da most thugged-out common question I’ve been asked. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I found dis up in October as well, via mah dad’s playa whoz ass be a retired Caledon regionizzle fool fo' realz. Apparently tha playa playin Mista Muthafuckin Bear took tha lil playas outta tha doggy den n' tha fuck into tha forest nearby. What da ruffneck did there, five-o is not exactly shizzle how tha fuck it happened yo, but 16 charred bodiez of lil pimps between tha agez of 4-13 was found up in a 15x15 foot ditch deep within tha forest. My fuckin dad’s playa did not wanna go tha fuck into exact details yo, but I’m seein his ass next Thursdizzle anyway, so maybe I can extort mo' shiznit from his ass then. That’s all I have fo' now, nahmeean, biatch? Thanks fo' keepin a interest up in mah blog, I'ma try ta gather as much shiznit as I can fo' mah next post. I’ve straight-up been gettin pretty horny bout dis mah self. Well shiiiit, it should be mah right ta know what tha fuck tha hell happened. I’m sorry I haven’t posted anythang fo' a while, I kind of lost interest up in dis Snoop Bloggy-Blogg since I hit a stand still while lookin fo' mo' shiznit bout tha identitizzle of tha balla of Caledon Local 21.
 * [Update]-2/1/12

However all dem weeks ago, I struck gold. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I found some lyrics surprisingly from tha daddy of a kid I used ta babysit yo. Dude lives just across from mah street, n' I used ta look afta his fuckin lil playas when they was younger, his schmoooove ass currently don’t gotz a thang either n' shiznit yo. Dude used ta live near tha woodz outside of Caledon, n' witnessed tha baller’s activitizzles up in tha woodz yo. His name is Anthony Pollo. When he lived up in tha lil' small-ass bungalow outside tha woods, da thug would often venture up in ta smoke a joint of da sticky-icky-icky or two before returnin ta his work as a wood craftsman. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Pollo busted lyrics bout dat sometimes da thug would hear voicez of lil pimps comin from deeper within tha woods, as well as a glowin light off up in tha distance. Pollo holla'd at mah crazy ass these events started up in late 1997 (Note: This is round tha time Caledon Local 21 fuckin started airing.) Dude apparently became annoyed by dis goin down every last muthafuckin once up in a while n' straight-up went ta investigate. Pollo then busted lyrics bout what tha fuck tha whole scene looked like when he gots there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. There was a crew of lil playas (Dude holla'd bout 13-17) n' ages 5-12 gathered round a big-ass fire pit wit a funky-ass burnin fire. With dem was a single adult. Pollo talked ta tha playa (Notin his unusual unkempt appearizzle of a cold-ass lil crack addict, as well as his constant twitching) n' axed what tha fuck da thug was bustin up in tha forest wit lil' thugs. Da playa holla'd they was on a cold-ass lil campin trip, suttin' they did frequently. Pollo, not suspectin anythang (Caledon has one of tha lowest crime rates up in Canada) simply left it at dat n' holla'd at dem ta be on tha fuckin' down-lower n' shit. Pollo then paused fo' a while before spittin some lyrics ta me dat they never became on tha fuckin' down-lower, up in fact sometimes dat schmoooove muthafucka heard bangin chantin from tha lil pimps up in a unknown language yo. Dude didn’t bother meetin wit tha playa again, as da thug was movin anyway.

I holla'd at Pollo dat tha playa was probably tha balla of Caledon Local 21 yo, but da ruffneck doubted it, as dat schmoooove muthafucka heard dat tha playa was movin ta Pickerin by nuff muthafuckin other gangstas near dat area.

Here is what tha fuck I know now: I'ma say shit bout dis wit mah dad’s playa (Da ex-cop) n' peep if dis matches anythang tha five-o knew bout tha man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I also wanna peep if dat schmoooove muthafucka has any other knowledge of what tha fuck was aired on Caledon Local 21. Dope shizzle muthafuckas, I talked ta mah dad’s playa n' da ruffneck disclosed a shitload of shiznit fo' mah dirty ass. First I axed if tha five-o had any shiznit on tha playa whoz ass ran Caledon Local 21, he replied dat they have only had tha same leadz fo' muthafuckin years n' never found a suspect. But fuck dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat tha Peel regionizzle five-o do gotz a shitload of tha tapes found up in tha doggy den Caledon Local 21 was broadcasted from, tha pimpin' muthafucka took me over so I could peep a gangbangin' few. I guess I haven’t holla'd much bout his ass yet, mah dad’s playa’s name is Mitchell Wilson, a pimpin' sick muthafucka, da perved-out muthafucka seems ta KNOW mah thirst fo' knowledge on what tha fuck happened durin tha late 90s up in dat crib yo. Dude feels dat shiznit was wack dat mah daddy went so long without spittin some lyrics ta me much.
 * Da Man would take lil playas tha fuck into tha woodz regularly fo' “camping”
 * Da fire pit Pollo busted lyrics bout may be tha hole tha bodiez of tha lil pimps was found in
 * Da lil pimps Pollo saw is probably tha ones found dead
 * Da playa moved ta a cold-ass lil hood called Pickerin (A smalla hood eastside of Toronto)
 * [Update]-3/20/12

Dude took me ta tha Davis road five-o station (If you don’t know, it’s tha phattest station up in Caledon, n' one of tha phattest within tha Peel region itself.) Each of tha main stations round Peel gotz a shitload of tha tapes, tha Davis road station has 3. I gots ta peep all of em. Unfortunately I wasn’t allowed ta take any home fo' obvious reasons.

Booby-Episode 2: “Playas Is Like Flowers”: This was one of tha straight-up original gangsta Booby episodes made. Da camera qualitizzle looked crappier than usual (Possibly a even olda camcorder) but tha scene was set up in tha same place as tha Booby episodes probably took place. I recognized it instantly. Da episode fuckin started wit Booby swayin back n' forth contently fo' all dem secondz before another hand entered. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da other hand was much smaller, lookin as if it belonged ta a lil' child. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da smalla hand eagerly fuckin started bouncin round before slidin up ta Booby, brangin it’s fingertips together ta “Kiss” Booby fo' realz. After all dem seconds, Booby grabbed tha smalla hand n' squeezed it tightly. This continued fo' at least 10 secondz before tha camera slowly panned left until tha handz was outta sight. Da camera continued pannin until it flossed a wilted daisy lyin by itself. Da camera then zoomed up in on tha daisy slowly as a lil girl’s voice became audible sayin “Playas is like flowers up in tha garden of game.” Da episode then ended.

Paint With Da Soul-Episode 10: “Garbage Thrown Away”: Paint With Da Soul was one of tha shows dat iamrealife n' sigy92 discussed on neoseeker n' shit. I holla'd all up in tha five-o bout dis n' they informed mah crazy ass dat 12 episodez of tha show was made n' broadcasted between December 5, 1997' n' 'January 8, 1998'. Exactly as iamrealife n' sigy92 busted lyrics about, tha episode opened wit tha camera playa wonderin round up in a gangbangin' forest. Well shiiiit, it rocked up ta be durin tha evenin as it seemed tha sun was setting. Da camera playa strutted along a path until he gots ta a area where there was a shitload of garbage layin up in tha leaves. Da camera looked round all up in tha various wrappers, bottles, bags, n' boxes, makin shizzle each item gots all dem secondz of screen time. Da camera then focused tha fuck into a single area before tha playa spoke. I recall da perved-out muthafucka was rappin up in a straight-up timid on tha down-low voice, n' I swear I’ve heard it somewhere else before, like on another Caledon Local 21 show. I could barely hear what tha fuck da thug was sayin yo, but he mainly talked bout how tha fuck humans is garbage, or suttin' dat had ta do wit savin ourselves by cleanin up tha garbage (us). Well shiiiit, it straight-up sounded straight-up stupid yo, but still a gangbangin' feelin of dread came over me, I mean dat forest was possibly where dem bodies was found, right?

Mista Muthafuckin Bear’s Cellar-Episode 25: When tha five-o administrator brought dis tape in, I straight-up holla'd “Ohhh shit” n' chuckled a lil' bit up loud. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Of course I gots stares from tha staff yo, but Wilson' explained ta dem bout mah lil experience wit Mista Muthafuckin Bear n' how tha fuck I still kept tha letter da perved-out muthafucka busted mah dirty ass. Like tha previous episodes, dis one included a muthafucka bustin a funky-ass bear mascot costume. Da Episode fuckin started wit Mista Muthafuckin Bear waddlin over ta tha red clothed table wit a funky-ass forty of orange juice up in his handz (paws?). On tha table was 16 blasted glasses as well as a lil' small-ass forty dat contained a unknown liquid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Mista Muthafuckin Bear poured a equal amount of orange juice tha fuck into each glass before openin tha smalla forty n' depositin one drop tha fuck into tha glasses. Mista Muthafuckin Bear then went off-camera, there was some minor soundz like fuckin shuffling, n' then Mista Muthafuckin Bear emerged from behind tha camera’s location. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Peepin his ass was 16 children, some looked as lil' as 4, others looked like they was practically teenagers fo' realz. As tha lil pimps entered, tha administrator commented dat dis is tha only episode dat flossed all 16 suckas. Da lil playas all looked rather content except fo' dis one whoz ass had visible bruises on his wild lil' face, n' unlike tha other lil playas dat schmoooove muthafucka had a mo' fearful expression. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude also looked bout 11-12, which caused mah crazy ass ta recognize his muthafuckin ass yo. Dude was tha kid whoz ass had axed bout his sista n' subsequently kicked it wit a unknown fate all up in tha end of episode 23, dat one episode I peeped durin July 1999. When I holla'd all up in tha administrator this, his schmoooove ass confirmed dat shiznit was tha same ol' dirty kid, da thug was also featured up in episode 24 (An episode dat only aired once at 3:00 up in July 1999, tha five-o have still not found tha tape). Mista Muthafuckin Bear then broke tha fuck into song, rappin bout citrus fruits n' how tha fuck phat vitamin C was fo' you (I could barely hear tha lyrics as they was muffled by tha bear mask). Da lil playas all drank they juice (Da one from episode 23 bustin it rather reluctantly), n' tha episode ended.

After viewin tha 3 tapes up in possession of tha Davis road five-o station, I’m satisfied yo, but only temporary. I still wanna know tha full story, tha five-o just keep givin me tha same crap bout tha creator of Caledon Local 21 bein a gangbangin' fetishist pedophile as well as a apparent cultist. I'ma sign off fo' now, git tha fuck into universitizzle first, git shiznit later n' shiznit yo. Hopefully I'ma git back ta dis Snoop Bloggy-Blogg quicker than a muthafucka. On April 17th I finally gots mah G2 licence (In Ontario, Canada dis allows you ta drive up in a cold-ass lil hoopty by yo ass as well as wit some passengers afta 6 months.) I of course took advantage of dis n' drove tha fuck into Caledon fo' a lil “Sundizzle drive”. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Since I haven’t updated dis Snoop Bloggy-Blogg up in a while, I figured I might as well visit tha doggy den where tha inhyped channel of mah childhood was located. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. Da doggy den looked different than when I last saw it up in October n' shit. Da place was no longer used as a thugged-out dizzle care, n' just sat there abandoned. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! However it did gotz a “For Sale” sign showin dat one of mah thugs still owned it, wantin ta git rid of it though cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. Da abandoned doggy den drew fuzzy memories from mah mind; mainly of dat dizzle mah daddy took me ta git on over ta Mista Muthafuckin Bear fo' realz. A feelin of dread came upon me, what tha fuck happened ta tha lil pimps while they was livin up in dat house, biatch? I strutted up tha steps ta tha front door n' peered all up in tha window. Inside I could peep a nearly empty hallway wit all dem boxes all up in tha end yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin' fo' realz. At tha end of tha hallway ta tha right was a open doorway presumably leadin ta tha kitchen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. To tha left was two doors, both apparently leadin ta tha rooms visible all up in tha windows outside. I wondered where tha cellar entrizzle was located n' whether it had been sealed up. I strutted round ta tha back of tha doggy den n' found mah answer n' shit. Two wooden doors lyin at a almost flat angle was padlocked shut, dis had ta lead ta tha cellar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Not wantin ta hang round (Yo ass cannot imagine what tha fuck was goin all up in mah mind at dat time) I departed.
 * [Update]-5/12/12

Behind tha house, tha empty field continued on until it reached a thugged-out dense forest dat lined tha horizon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I wondered if dat was tha forest where tha bodiez of tha lil pimps was found.. n' you KNOWS ta mah dirty ass “Fuck it” n' proceeded ta strutt across tha field behind tha doggy den tha fuck into tha forest. Da forest was oddly on tha fuckin' down-low, save fo' tha few periodic soundz of a woodpecker drillin tha fuck into a gangbangin' finger-lickin' distant tree. I cautiously made mah way deeper tha fuck into tha woods, not straight-up carin bout tha fact dat I had no clue where I was going. I don’t know how tha fuck ta explain it yo, but it felt like there was suttin' I had ta find. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I came ta a thinner part of tha woodz n' few lil' small-ass houses up in tha distance. Pollo’s doggy den crossed mah mind n' I wondered if one of these cribs had belonged ta his muthafuckin ass. I neared a lil' small-ass clearin up in which I could peep 3 adequately sized logs gathered round a funky-ass black, charred area (Showin a lil' small-ass fire had been lit there recently.)

“HEY! GET THE FUCK OUT OF OUR FORT” Those lyrics nearly gave me a ass attack. I turned ta mah left n' saw two dark-clothed playas hustlin towardz mah dirty ass. My fuckin initial thought was ta run, however as they came closer I saw they was straight-up just lil playas up in they early teens, possibly 13 or 14, maybe even 12 fo' realz. As they approached me, they realized mah size as well, I’m 6’1 while they could done been no bigger than 5’8 (One might done been 5’7). “We holla'd…get tha fuck out.” Da larger one whoz ass was bustin a Slipknot hoodie holla'd half-heartedly. I stood mah ground n' shrugged. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da shorter one whoz ass was bustin a Metallica hoodie swung up a funky-ass butterfly knife n' held it up in mah direction. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. “Fuck dat shit, you wouldn’t want to.” I holla'd up in a thugged-out deep, straight-up tone (Tryin ta sound as badass as possible) I pulled up mah beeper. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Da two lil playas withdrew, tha one up in tha Metallica hoodie puttin away tha knife. “Look dude, our phat asses don’t like playas up in our fort, so can you just go?” tha one up in tha Slipknot hoodie holla'd, obviously intimidated. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. I had no bidnizz up in tha forest anyway, so I uttered up a simple “Fine” n' turned before I realized I had a pimped out opportunity. “Did either of y'all hear of a muthafucka whoz ass bust a cold-ass lil cap up in bunch of lil playas up in these woodz about….13 muthafuckin years ago?” I axed tha kids. Da two looked at each other up in mad drama, before tha one bustin tha Metallica hoodie answered “Yeah…..EVERYONE knows bout dat muthafucka” da perved-out muthafucka holla'd ta me as if I was fuckin wack. Da kid up in tha Slipknot hoodie continued, “Dude still lives round here, up in tha storm drain….my big-ass brother’s playa say da perved-out muthafucka saw his ass up in a funky-ass bear costume once wanderin round tha forest at night.”

My fuckin instincts holla'd at mah crazy ass dis was probably a lie, n' tha balla of Caledon Local 21 is probably long gone, only existin as folklore up in dis smalla isolated hood yo. However as a human, tha thought of tha mysterious unknown sparks interest within. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. “And where is tha storm drain?” I axed (Just outta curiosity, I don’t straight-up believe tha kid’s story). Da Kid up in tha Metallica hoodie stared all up in mah grill fo' all dem moments, his wild lil' fuckin eyes seemingly full of annoyance, yet curiositizzle fo' mah dirty ass. “You’re not from round here, is yo slick ass, biatch? Why did you even come here?” Now I do admit I was slightly startled by tha nature of his question, however I figured I might as well explain why I was there, just up in case playas mistook mah intentions. I holla'd all up in tha two lil playas bout mah experience wit tha playa n' Caledon local 21, n' dat I had ta come ta maybe seek up some sort of closure (Although though even I wasn’t exactly sure.) Da lil playas seemed familiar wit tha channel as they smiled n' looked at each other when I mentioned dat shit. They also became mo' understandin n' gave me a thugged-out detailed description on how tha fuck ta git ta tha storm drain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Shortly after, I decided ta just turn round tha way I came n' head back ta tha house, leavin tha lil playas at they fort. But now you’re probably wonderin why I left up such detail bout what tha fuck tha lil playas holla'd at mah crazy ass just now, it is it cuz I’m choosin ta conclude what tha fuck I have gathered now, nahmeean?

Here is what tha fuck tha lil playas holla'd at mah crazy ass up in detail: Thanks fo' continuin ta support me n' mah blog. I be bloggin like a muthafucka up in dis biatch. I know nuff is lookin forward ta mo' shiznit bout what tha fuck happened up in Caledon durin tha year 1999, n' I'ma do mah dopest ta continue mah research tha fuck into tha topic. Elliot out. Shiznit muthafucka nearly 5 months since I last updated. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. I’m guessin mah playas pretty much be thinkin I was dead right, biatch? Thankfully I’m not. But up in all mah seriousness, I straight-up done been gettin busy like a biiiatch these past few months, n' a funky-ass Snoop Bloggy-Blogg bout suttin' dat could have capped mah crazy ass as a kid be a lil low on mah current prioritizzles list fo' realz. Az of now I be livin up in Waterloo Ontario, attendin tha Universitizzle of Waterloo fo' computer engineerin (Yeah I’m a keener) fo' realz. As you can imagine, engineerin is no strutt up in tha park, so obviously I nearly forgot bout dis blog. I be bloggin like a muthafucka up in dis biatch. But as you can peep now, I be back. I remembered ta git on over ta tha storm drain tha lil playas from tha Caledon forest holla'd at mah crazy ass about. Dat shiznit was up in a cold-ass lil clearin between tha wooded areas, nearby a marsh. Unfortunately, I found straight-up nothing; save fo' a turtle dat retreated tha fuck into its built-in home when it saw mah dirty ass. I snapped some pics of tha pipe which I have posted as well fo' realz. Also, let me rap dat shiznit was NOT a storm drain like they holla'd it was. What I saw was a simple pipe, possibly ta channel tha access gin n juice from tha marsh. When I returned from Caledon however, I simply kept puttin off uploadin every last muthafuckin thang until I forgot all bout mah blog. I be bloggin like a muthafucka up in dis biatch. Well shiiiit, it just didn’t seem blingin no mo' (Please forgive me). Well shiiiit, it wasn’t until only recently dat I be now horny bout mah case again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. On September 10th, I received a email from dis email address: returntheb@hotmail.com
 * Da storm drain lies ahead of tha kids’ fort, tha same direction I was heading
 * Da drain endz at a lil' small-ass river, where access gin n juice is drained out. Near here be a lil' small-ass playground (Da lil playas holla'd at mah crazy ass playas rarely use it)
 * Da playa supposedly lives up in tha big-ass pipe dat drizzle gin n juice drains up of, playas have peeped him, although always either bustin a funky-ass bear mask or tha mask n' a gangbangin' full body bear costume. (Note: I do not believe dis is true, n' up in fact simply a myth made by tha gangstaz of Caledon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da rap do not seem plausible up in anyway, why did no one call tha police, biatch? Didn’t dis muthafucka look suspicious, biatch? And other thangs like these leave tha rap invalid.
 * I may visit tha storm drain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Not cuz I believe tha rap yo, but cuz I want a excuse ta git on over ta Caledon again, so dis Snoop Bloggy-Blogg don’t take a thugged-out dirtnap (With no mo' tapes ta peep it, I don’t know what tha fuck ta rap bout no mo'!).
 * [Update] 10/4/12

Funny, is I right, biatch? Well it gets mo' betta n' shit. I’m goin ta copy n' paste tha exact email dis muthafucka busted me:

Dear Elliot, My fuckin dear, dear boy,

''I have missed you eva so much, oh how tha fuck you’ve grown! Yo crazy-ass twinklin eyes have stayed tha same however, dem eyes lookin fo' adventure, oh how tha fuck imaginin dem brangs warmth ta mah oldschool bear ass. That dizzle you came ta git on over ta me I felt so aiiight I wanted ta go up n' pick strawberries yo. Dude holla'd at mah crazy ass you would come looking! Oh yeaaaa tha pimpin' muthafucka holla'd at mah crazy ass you would come looking!''

''Now it is ghon be soon, you won’t be all kindsa lonely soon! I’m eva so sorry I couldn’t say wassup when you came ta visit, not once, 2 times muthafucka! Do not threat however, yo big-ass booty is ghon soon finally git ta fuck wit tha other lil' thugs. I'ma try makin mah cellar even mo' cozier than before!!!''

100 fuzzy hugs,

Mista Muthafuckin Bear Now obviously dis letter is fake yo, but still I wanna give props ta whoever busted dat shit. Just readin dis letter creeped mah crazy ass up yo, but cuz of it, I be now full of dis freshly smoked up interest ta continue mah blog. I be bloggin like a muthafucka up in dis biatch. I guess its just funky tryin ta pursue tha mysteries I’ve always questioned. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Now mah roommate knows bout all of this, tha pimpin' muthafucka thought tha letter was real, he straight-up seemed mo' scared than I was fo' a second. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! But then I shrugged it off, so da ruffneck did like a muthafucka. I mean, what tha fuck is tha chancez of dis bein real, biatch? How tha fuck would “Mista Muthafuckin Bear” know when I went ta Caledon on dem occasions, biatch? Mo' or less know mah email or me still be horny bout his cellar yo. Ha.

I’m goin ta bust a reply ta “returntheb”. Fuck dat shit, just lookin all up in tha email address, you can tell one of mah thugs wanted ta freak me out. Well shiiiit, it didn’t straight-up work though, although ta whoever yo ass is, fuck you fo' sparkin mah interest back tha fuck into tha full matter n' shit. Maybe I can smoke up mo' bout what tha fuck happened ta “Mista Muthafuckin Bear”, hopefully cuz although I don’t loot dat email, a part of me still feels anxious. Nuff props ta all dem playas whoz ass is still followin me n' have become avid fans, yo ass be also why I be choosin ta continue this!

Thanks muthafuckas.