Chris Brown vs. life: Translation of a fool’s prose.
In the aftermath of this popcorn smacking, nail-biting Chris Brown/Jenny Johnson Twitter throwdown (see below if you were sleeping), there have been a bunch of accusations lobbed at Johnson over her “bullying” of CB. And I totally agree, internet: Chris Brown is just a really, really misunderstood guy and an innocent victim of angry bitches and autocorrect gone wild.
If you witnessed the epic showdown, I’m sure you noticed that whilst Jenny opted for standard English, CB spoke in tongues. One can only assume that his purpose was to throw off his hysterically overqualified opponent. Slick move, but obviously super confusing for us innocent spectators. Not to worry though, friends: I got ‘dis. See below for a tweet-by-tweet translation of the convoluted vernacular of a confused man-child.
Jenny kicked things off with a perfectly logical statement of fact:
JJ: “…Being a worthless piece of shit can really age a person.”
Let me set the scene. CB was innocently perusing his @ replies when Jenny’s brutal reality check bopped him square in the cerebral cortex. CB cracked his knuckles by slamming them on his burly chest, directly over the heart region. The cracking sound was unfortunately mediocre and dissatisfactory, prompting his heart his heart to let out an almighty infant-like screech… and so it began.
CB: “take them teeth out when u Sucking my dick HOE”, and “I should fart while ur giving me top. “Seize the day” #CarpeDiem”
In the beginning, CB expressed a glimmer of hope that Jenny was merely initiating foreplay. An easy mistake, guys. The problem is that the tears of a narcissist are particularly opaque in nature, consequently impairing vision. So, although CB meant to Google “hot pick-up lines for romantic online courting”, he accidentally typed “ways to make myself sound like a cross between Barney Gumble and Nero”. Can’t blame a man-child for trying.
Also, something about a carp which is an oversized goldfish.
Presumably at this point, CB anxiously combed his angry-brows and Google Image’d himself as he waited for Jenny’s response to his irresistible pillow talk.
CB: “The funniest shit is not giving a fuck.”
CB’s reaction upon realizing that Jenny was definitely not hitting on him. Roughly translated: “I’m officially crying so hard I can’t feel my face, and I just choked on a toenail thinking it was my thumb”.
CB: “Diaries of a thirsty bitch” … Ur life sucks so much ass.”
Here, CB got sidetracked by this sudden brainwave re: the title for his next album. The album is apparently set to be a musical autobiography of his parched, dilapidated conscience, known affectionately as “Mort”. In a recent Tweet, Mort said, “I feel abandoned and dehydrated. Can anyone spare a glass of water?”, followed by, “My life is terrible. I feel like I don’t even exist anymore :(”. Friends of Mort are said to be concerned about his wellbeing, on account of his alarmingly frequent disappearing acts.
Anyhow, it was at this point that Jenny (can I make it clear that Jenny is my new favorite person?) noted that CB’s “mom must be so proud” of him.
CB mulled over this familiar sounding word. “Mom… mom…” and just then, he was struck by an epiphany! “MOM! Isn’t that the lady that gave birth to me? The lady that brought me into this world and who will unconditionally love me to the end of the earth, no matter how much of a disrespectful imbecile I am towards her and the world at large?” Then a mouse came and snatched the epiphany away…
CB: “mom says hello… She told me not to shart in ur mouth, wanted me shit right on the retina,… #pinkeye”
…which was unfortunate.
CB: “Let me leave this bitch alone… It’s good to know my worth by listening to a bitch that is worthless #iwin” #bushpigswag”
CB just wanted to make it clear that he dumped Jenny, not the other way around.
The “bush pig swag”, by the way, is said to be an erratic dance performed by CB in front of his bathroom mirror as a means of shaking off poor Mort.
CB: “Don’t run for support now… Lol. Ur a comedic writer!!! If u can take a dick, u can take a joke.”
Pretty much what it looks like. Silly old Twitter! Shame on Jenny, and us, for taking his playful words as anything more than a cute joke.
CB: “#carpediem I win! instagr.am/p/SeRUTIPpdt/”
This was the second or third time CB hashtagged something about carp dying, but at this point I still hadn’t figured out what he was getting at. Oh, and then he posted a link to what seems to be a snapshot of an alien landing.
“Just ask Rihanna if she mad??????”
Sorry, this one wasn’t much more than gibberish. Something about calling 911 because he’s drowning in his own depravity…? And I think the question marks represent the number of times per minute that CB manages to evade proper consequences of his actions.
“Back to life…”
CB had just recovered from a minor case of hyperventilation, when his mother called. He told her he was totally joking about the retina-shart thing, then asked if she could please bring him some more mashed peas and then wash his blankie because he wept all over it. I hope she said no.
“To teambreezy… Know that I’m not upset. Just felt like entertaining the ignorance. These bitches crazy..”
An awkward coincidence that CB forgot to mention until now was that he had actually been chopping onions this whole time, which had caused those gushes of wetness around the eye region. By “bitches” he meant onions, so… no offence, ladies.
“Further proved my point of how immature society is. #CarpeDiem”
Again with this hashtag!? It was at this point that I finally realised CB had been the victim of hashtag-autocorrect for this entire saga. What had consistently appeared as “#CarpeDiem” on his Twitter feed was in fact supposed to read “#imafuckingmoron”.
…and with that, it was over. Probably the most genuinely hurtful blow CB (and/or his PR reps) delivered that day was the deletion of his Twitter account. Where da fuq are we supposed to find intelligent reading material now?
There’s a sombre side to all of this, and Marissa is far more patient/qualified to comment on it than I am. If you made it this far, I think you need to go and read her piece. I have to go and wash my eyes and mouth out with soap.
*Please note that most of the above is merely fiction, invented by me, about a sad boy. Kind of like fan fiction, only the complete opposite.
Originally published on: