Gangbangers Sad After Leader Killed, Happy About End of Suspect Holiday Text-Messages

gangsters_mourn_death — Picture of the suspect selfie that Leroy “Go-Real-La” Washington sent out to his homies on Christmas.

A group of Clarkelyn gang members were relieved Thursday when their set-leader was killed — not because they’re disloyal, but because his death meant the end of really suspect group text-messages on holidays.

Leroy “Go-Real-la” Washington, 42, was fatally shot last week in an apparent assassination plot carried out by a rival gang. Washington was the leader and founder of the notorious East Macrapolis gang, the Murder Over Bitches Boyz.

Members of the MOBB expressed mixed emotions about the murder of their leader, whom they often called “Go” for short.

“That nigga held shit down for real. Some of these niggas out here talk that shit. ’Go’ really lived it,” one MOBB member, who identified himself as “Trigga,” tells The Bluffington Roach. “It’s just that my nigga used to send out the gayest texts.”

Trigga and other MOBB members say that Washington routinely sent out mass text-messages to his soldiers on holidays.

They say the texts made them feel very uncomfortable. But, they didn’t dare say anything to Washington because of his reputation as a recklessly violent individual.

“I once seen ‘Go’ cut a dude’s middle finger off, stick it up the dude’s ass, make him sniff it, and then sew the shit back on to the nigga’s good hand,” one MOBB member, who asked us to keep his identity concealed, tells BluffRo.

The anonymous gang-banger described Washington as a 6-foot-4, 250-pound man with a menacing demeanor and arms the size of black market butt implants.

“I couldn’t get with the nigga’s holiday texts though,” the gang-member says. “That shit was mad gay, but niggas couldn’t really say shit because they might’ve gotten killed.”

He described a text-message that Washington sent to his gang affiliates on Christmas. In the text, Washington apparently took a picture in front of his bathroom mirror dressed in a wife-beater, green basketball shorts and a Santa hat — while holding a bottle of Hennessy Black.

In the text’s caption he wrote: “The Henny got a nigga right. Might stumble down one of ya’ll chimneys tonight…ha ha. Merry X-Mas my niggas!”

“I think it’s because ‘Go’ was an old-head, and old-heads don’t really know how to use technology and all that,” Trigga says. “I gave him the old-head pass, but then again, he also sent some wild shit on Valentine’s Day too. First of all, you not supposed to get a text from another nigga on Valentine’s Day unless a life-threatening emergency arises.”

Trigga said Washington sent the gang a photograph of a candlelit dinner with rose-pedals sprinkled around the table. In the message’s caption he wrote:

“Ya’ll ain’t know a nigga had it in him huh? Rather be cheffin’ it up for the homies for real — gotta do the wifey thing tonight though. My niggas over everything tho… ha ha. #MOBB.”

Despite the suspect nature of their leader’s holiday text messages, MOBB members maintain respect for their late comrade.

“RIP to the boss — one of the realest niggas to do it.” Trigga said. “He just had a few gay-ass text messages.”

Employees File Complaint With Human Resources Over Boss’s Testicles

employee_hr — CFO Woody Cohen Jr. attempts to post up employee Ben Wilson before the two even leave the locker room.

A group of male employees at a Macrapolis-based financial firm filed a formal complaint with human resources yesterday because their boss doesn’t wear underwear when they play pick-up basketball.

Three junior associates at the prominent Panhattan financial firm, Woody Cohen and Associates, say that their boss’s free-balling tendencies have created a hostile and abusive outside-of-work, work environment.

Carter Clarke, 31, George Hilliard, 33, and Ben Wilson, 32, are fed up with their boss, Woody Cohen Jr. And, they’re demanding that he start wearing underwear during all out-of-the-office recreational activities.

The three employees understand the dangers of challenging the firm’s head honcho. But, they insist that any repercussions that may arise from the complaint will be easier to endure than another minute on the basketball court with Cohen.

Wilson says that basketball nights with Cohen have left him forever scarred. It’s so bad the he can’t even exercise indoors anymore.

“I can’t even walk into a gym anymore without breaking down into tears. The sweaty scent of the room is too much for me to handle. I can still smell him,” Wilson tells The Bluffington Roach. “I can’t even play ball with my 5-year-old son on his toy hoop without breaking out in a cold sweat.”

Wilson remembers the first time Cohen stepped onto the court with him and his co-workers three years ago.

He remembers Cohen’s rail-thin 5-foot-9 frame, his abnormally long armpit hairs, his faded men’s league jersey from 40 years ago. And, most vividly, Wilson remembers Cohen’s testes-cutter mesh shorts, which he wore with no drawers underneath and which his right testicle hung half-way out of.

The three associates were reluctant to file the complaint because they all agree that Cohen is a great boss and an all-around decent guy. They concede that he’ll likely be the best boss they’ll ever have.

Cohen demands excellence and hard work, but he keeps the office atmosphere loose and considers the needs of all his employees. In fact, all three men are on the fast track to becoming senior associates within the next three years.

Most people would call the men crazy for putting a relatively stress-free, six-figure job in jeopardy for such a seemingly minor issue. But, the men say that the alleged abuse is destroying their personal lives.

Clarke says he’s experienced deep intimacy issues in his love-life because of Cohen.

“I can’t bear the sight of my girlfriend in panties, boy-shorts, or even a thong anymore. I’m too afraid that a testicle is going to randomly pop out,” Clarke tells BluffRo. “We had to cut a hole through an old pair of her blue jeans just so we can have intercourse.”

Apparently Cohen loves physical play on the court. Hilliard describes Cohen as the kind of guy who will box his opponent out at the three-point line before a shot even goes up. And, even though he’s really un-athletic and uncoordinated, he prides himself on playing ferocious defense. Plus he’s an old guy, so his offensive post-up game extends throughout the entire court.

Hilliard once had a passion for dancing and partying. Now he can’t even two-step with a woman without harkening back to memories of balls-to-body contact with Cohen.

Visualize a set of bare 70-year-old balls and a man’s ass in small mesh shorts, and it’s easier to understand why the three men would put their careers on the line by filing the complaint.

Some readers are likely wondering why the three men didn’t simply approach their boss and politely ask him to put his dick away while they played basketball. Well, it turns out that Cohen is not such a nice guy when it comes to employees questioning his sportswear choices.

When the three men first started making rumblings around the office about the alleged sexual harassment, fellow employees warned them not to step to Cohen with their complaints.

It turns out that for each new set of junior executives who come up the ranks, Cohen chooses a new sport to fall in love with. He then pushes the newly promoted executives to partake in the sport with him until they reach senior level status.

The sport of choice for the previous cycle of junior executives was water polo. Apparently they endured similar trauma. Cohen competed against them while wearing an aquatic thong.

Shaken by Cohen’s wardrobe choice, one of those junior executives allegedly approached Cohen about changing his water polo apparel. The next day, the man showed up to work and discovered that his keycard had been deactivated and found his belongings stacked up in boxes in the corner of the building’s lobby, according to colleagues.

It’s also alleged that Cohen made a few calls to his finance buddies around town. The fired junior executive never found work in Macrapolis’s financial sector again. He now cleans pools for wealthy hedge fund managers in Connecticut.

Thus, Wilson, Clarke, and Hilliard understand that they’re going up against the machine. But, they are praying that official documentation, in the form of the complaint, might force Cohen’s hands when it comes to retaliation.

A resolution for the complaint could take anywhere from six weeks to three months. They don’t want to make a big fuss about the whole thing either.

“Basketball is a contact sport,” Hilliard says. “All we’re asking is that he put his balls away.”

Ex-Con Turned Cake-maker Sued for Strong-Arming Rival Bakeries

threatening_cake-1 — Photograph of cake Al Lemon allegedly sent to rival bakery owner, Gloria Hawkins, in order to scare her out of business.

An ex-con turned pastry chef was hit with a class action lawsuit yesterday, which accuses him of using force and intimidation to drive competing bakeries out of business.

The plaintiffs accuse Al Lemon — owner of Cake-Boy Fresh in East Macrapolis, Clarkelyn — of using strong-arm tactics to scare them from doing business in the area.

“Clearly, Mr. Lemon still plays by the rules that governed his former life as a drug-pusher. Not those which govern the world of legitimate business,” the suit says.

Harriet Brooks, a 37-year-old pastry chef, had to relocate her shop, She Got the Cakes, to East Herulum. Emmet Barry, a 32-year-old pie enthusiast, continues to run his shop, Barry Pie, in East Macrapolis. But he lives in constant fear of Lemon’s erratic behavior, according to the lawsuit.

The third plaintiff, Gloria Hawkins, a 76-year-old retired school teacher, used her life-savings to turn her childhood dream of owning a bakery into a reality three years ago. That dream became a nightmare last year. That’s when Lemon allegedly forced her out of business.

According to the lawsuit:

A short time after Hawkins opened the bakery — Lemon came over to the store and informed her that she was cutting into his business. He offered to buy her out if she would close her shop.

Hawkins rejected the offer — refusing to let go of her dream. That’s when Lemon began threatening to send his “little niggas to go see” her 14-year-old grandson.

Lemon continued to make overtures to Hawkins. Hawkins continued to decline them.

But, the intensity of his threats only escalated. And, two months later, her grandson came home from the park with a bloody nose, a black eye, and bruised ribs.

The next morning she received a red-velvet cake with vanilla frosting — topped with red lettering. It read “Consider this a warning.” The cake tasted really good, but Hawkins was shaken to her core.

Worried about the well-being of her grandchildren, Hawkins ultimately shut down her shop. But, she rejected his buyout offer.

She declined to go to the police because of Lemon’s ties to local thugs and drug-dealers in the neighborhood. And, it’s common knowledge in East Macrapolis that Lemon routinely greases the mouths of local law enforcement with complimentary pastries to keep them quiet.

Drained and demoralized, Hawkins came across a news profile that reinvigorated her spirits. The profile was about She Got the Cakes. In the story, Brooks said the “unfriendly” atmosphere surrounding her previous location sparked her move from Clarkelyn to Herulum.

Wondering whether Brooks was also bullied away, Hawkins reached out.

She soon discovered that Lemon had been sabotaging Brooks’ distribution channels. He paid off and/or threatened her wholesale sugar, butter, flour, and yeast connects to get them to stop doing business with her.