Well, good day chaps. My name is William, and I have a story to tell you.Quite an epic, in fact, and one I hold dear to myself as it depicts the time my life was completely changed; flipped or turned upside down, one might say. So please take a seat for this will not take long, mayhap a few minutes, and I shall tell you how this young match boy became the prince of an idyllic hamlet called Bel Air.
You see, I was born and raised in West Philadelphia. I was quite a little scamp, let me tell you. I would spend most of my days on the playground with the other boys. Between bouts of chilling, maxing and relaxing we liked to indulge in a particularly fun game known as "B-Ball" around the back of the school hall. Life was indeed quaint and peaceful until one day when I found myself in an altercation with some miscreants from the projects. It was clear they were up to no good and were simply in our neighbourhood to cause trouble. In all truth our 'fight,' for want of a word, was little more than a brief scuffle in the playground. However, as with most things, Mother eventually found out. Always a worrier that woman, and once her mind is set on a decision nothing will change it. She made plans behind my back before taking me to one side and saying "you have an Auntie and Uncle in Bel Air, you shall go to live with them my son." I protested, but there was no changing her mind. The travel arrangements were set. To waylay suspicion I would be going by taxi.
So, my possessions packed and stowed, I set out for my new life. I whistled down a taxi and was aghast at the state of my carriage; most notably a license plate that said 'FRESH' and a rather obnoxious pair of fluffy dice hanging from the rear view mirror. I was assured by Mother that such taxis were quite rare, and as I slung my bags into it's boot and sat behind the driver I declared "Yo home to Bel Air!" The journey itself took several hours. I found myself reeling from the taxis driver's latent body odour problem and struggled with a tactful way to tell him of this.
Regardless the taxi pulled up at some point between seven or eight o'clock, and the most witty pun formed in my mind. Leaping out and grabbing my bags I shouted to the taxi driver "Yo homes, smell you later!" The driver was most displeased and refused to co-operate further. No matter. I looked around at the place that would now be my home, my kingdom as it were. After all this hardship I had finally come to claim my throne.
Verily I am the Prince of Bel Air.
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H.B.Mupps, Tue 19 May 2009, 20:30,
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a) This isn't /offtopicb) Fresh Prince jokes died before Maddie did
c) Fuck off, you tedious, limp-wristed self-absorbed Russell-Brand-wannabee prosaically paralysed twat.
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Grrrmachine the indifference engine, Tue 19 May 2009, 20:32,
archived)
You're the Mum in those adverts with the shitting Chinese kid and the air freshener, aren't you(
Grrrmachine the indifference engine, Tue 19 May 2009, 20:34,
archived)
Yeah, and I'm still amazed my african husband hasn't realised the bairn isn't his.(
Mu Dinofiddler, Tue 19 May 2009, 20:36,
archived)
Something about prince of bel air..blah blah blah...
didn't read it all
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The Doveston haunted by the memory of his own amnesia, Tue 19 May 2009, 20:32,
archived)
I'd too like some attention.SOMEONE FUCKING GIVE IT TO ME OR I'LL START A THREAD.
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Master Of Turnips. Only gays and morons believe in ghosts., Tue 19 May 2009, 20:32,
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THIS IS THE CANCER THAT IS KILLING /b/3ta(
idonthaveafunnynickname Drink-Aware? Sure. I'm aware I want another drink., Tue 19 May 2009, 20:41,
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