chicka-chicka slim shady
by Benjamin Drevlow
Like Eminem’s I Don’t Give a Fuck but in which I give a fuck about everything, all things, and can’t do anything about them, but scream I don’t give a fuck in Em’s nasally whine whenever a roll down the windows of my 99 Buick Century cruisin’ through town, the cool kids hanging out at the underground Dairy Queen with a shit ton pile of dirt from the sandpit and coat of sod thrown over the top, this being before the cool kids would be at the cool kids drinking parties out in the barrens and sometimes the sand pits or hayfields, and I’m at the Y with a bunch of eighth graders, schoolin’ em with my killer crossover, hezzy stepback, and rap-singing I don’t give a fuck when they whine about my foulin’, my foulin’ so I won’t be embarrassed by a bunch of eighth-graders, me a senior in high school, obsessing over how cool I compare up against the backdrop of eighth-graders, the girls lookin’ at me–like a heart throb, like a huge loser–I know and don’t know which one, I don’t give a fuck, it’s not like I’m gonna hook up with an eighth-grade hottie, because it’d be statutory, but also because it’d be wrong ethically, the power dynamics, but still I don’t give a fuck in my hoop dreams because I’m the bad boy with the shaved head, pubey House of Pain goatee, fake diamond-stud Tupac nose ring, and shorts down my ass, the one with the drivers’ license and Eminem bumping out my rattling speakers, I don’t give a fuck, making runs and runs after 10 PM, the underground Dairy Queen closed for the night, like everything else in town except for the Super Bowl with the karaoke bar and midnight bowling, I don’t give a fuck, but I once bowled a 225 if that impresses you, and I can do a pretty fucking kickass version of Ice Ice Baby, what do you [eighth-grade] ladies’ think? No seriously: What do you think about me? Like in a completely non-creeper platonic way–like, would you be willing to play truth or dare with me if I was your age and couldn’t drive and buy music with parental advisories?
BIO: drevlow is the eic of all things BULL and writes prose and poetry about mostly the same bull stuff from his trash-covered office in Statesboro, GA where his not-dead wife and three trash dogs continue to tolerate him and all his online ramblings at thedrevlow-olsonshow.com or on twitter, insta, face, bsky, & threads @thedrevlow.