5 Reggae Party Rules (for ladies)

1. If he is talking to you & is over the age of 40, yall go together. 

At least till the end of the evening. It will be gunshots if you get the fraternizing. Keep it moving or choose wisely. Your name is now “Di Dautah”.

But be aware… a sugar daddy and walking people-factory are NOT mutually exclusive. This 57yr old man will make his fingers like a gun and shoot your club right up. His nickname is The Fertile Crecent. You’ll be pregnant… and then a whole bunch of them old songs gonna start making sense.

You: Godfrey… I’m pregnant..

Yard Don: …hmmmm mmmmh…. mi seed strong…….

Then tell you how well all 23 of his pickney are doing in life, like you need to be happy about it. The gods chose you.

BTW he’s rounding down at 23… sun don’t know the real number. And will call you and them kids a bunch of different names till he gets it right. This man been a gyalist since the Reagan era and when he brushes his teeth it sounds like an exorcism.

You might be confused… and that’s good. Cause when that last line makes sense it’s too late.

2. If he buys you a drink, and he is young… he’s got good manners. 

Now polygraph him for the secret family and/or domestic violence gene.. cause you might have found you a husband in here. If his mom is really nice but his grandma calls you “road gyal” and “wata bug” or “whore foot” or some crazy shit… thats the real McCoy. Plan the wedding and know his mom don’t like you either.

But…

If he bought you a drink and he is 50+… he is a drug dealer.

But.. he is a classy one. He drives an 89 BMW.

He is like the boxwine of drug dealers. You see that nugget watch… its bank… be impressed by it.

If he has the matching nugget ring and nugget bracelet he’s been hustling since your dad was in High School and his gun got bodies on it. He still got a closet full of Dapper Dan suits that he’s looking for an excuse to wear. Supercat shouted out a bunch of his friends on Ghetto Red Hot. His beeper number is older than his last 2 girlfriends. That may sound 🚩but there is something to be said for a man who does not change. 

Also a 68yr old west indian man isn’t playing around either… homey been a coxman since Sparrow Meets The Dragon and is doped up on all types of sea moss and tiger balms and fuck powders. He got a whole draw full of enhancements to ensure he can put ur pum pum on the injured reserve list. No one wears a vintage Stetson hat if they can’t sling dick… the store won’t even sell em to you without references.

Oh… and he will pistol whip one of these sheisty wearing YN’s for getting fresh with you… him… the bartender… for wearing white after labor day… anything. All of it. He lives on go mode. Got a whole song about his mindset

3. If you are even moderately attractive dudes are gonna just start dancing with you w/out asking.

Dancing is rubbing his dick on you. Know that this comes with your price of admission.

Note for you fellas… you are gonna want to maintain an appropriate level of trouser discipline here. Yes these rules are for ladies but some of yall jokers are wilding.

Proper etiquette dictates & demands… quarter chub. Not more… not less.

It cant be nothing… trust me… nothing is bad. Too much is worse.

Do not bring your raging erection to a party such as this. An old lady is gonna hit you with a purse wild times as they chase you out for being a “dutty rapscallion” or some English sounding shit like that. So quarter chub… its proper presentation levels. Enough to indicate interest, but not land yourself on a watchlist for being some sort of fuck goblin. Don’t be the guy known as “too horny” for a Trinidadian birthday… they national export is homewreckers. Word.

Anyway if you don’t want to have dick rubbed on your ass (or the middle of your back if you’re short) then stay home or sit down in the booth with Boxwine. He aint dancing less Police In Helicopter come on. That will mostly consist of mild hopping on one foot with a hand in the air.

No… he doesn’t expect you to do it with him. It’s like the humpty… but for weed. But if he starts skanking… you can go get some shit from your car and come back…. thats like the old yardie man version of vouging on a runway. That shit is the ital cripwalk… legendary.

But everybody didn’t wear Clarks here, which brings me to the young Jamaicans. Watch the fuck out for these young yardie yoot dem. Hes not like the Yard Don over there. This nigga don’t wanna dance… he wanna do WWF moves on you.

Yeah…. you see that… those are the arm gestures of a man that don’t care about your safety. He aint here for a good time.. he’s here for a fucking ladder match.

Yes…. thats right…. he jumped on her back for a horsey ride…. and that is how he starts. I love you… I care… so if he tries to dance with you and starts by telling everyone to back up. Run. He is gonna do the stone cold stunner on you and dutty whine over your concussed frame. While his friends cheer him on, and wave homemade blowtorches in the air, and don’t call you an ambulance. Talking bout “she nuh ready yet”.

I promise you aint ready…

Theres no solidarity here… bitches will step over you like Allen Iverson talking bout “big ooman ting dis” and enter the octagon with that nigga. This shit is a royal rumble.

4. Everyone makes their fingers like a gun.. it’s the guy that DOESN’T that has one.

Watch out for that guy.. he bought u a drink.

If this is a REAL party than there is a 70% chance it’s not in a “club” club. It could be in the basement of a house… or at a Knights Of Columbus or a VFW (which is just a house we don’t mind if you break). The lower the deposit the worse the security.

And security is someone’s uncle… and he ain’t dying for your safety. Mind your mannerisms. It is not unheard of for someone to draw a gun like the old west to settle an unpaid OTB loan from 1997.

If it’s dark… and you see a crew of women got a bright camera light in they face… they talking shit to it in between slow whining on air… wearing bright pastels… yeah…. just dont…. they with the shits. Don’t even matter… whatever you with… they with it…whatever kind of smoke… brisket… choo choo train… colorful smoke. All of it. 3 of them are related to at least 9 other people in here. Translation.. nobody calling the cops.

Oh.. you thought she was “done” dancing with him… naah sis… she cyan dun…. and now you getting jumped by the trenchtown Powerpuff Girls and they washing you out to a cutty ranks song. No one will stop dancing… apparently you wanted to test they rocket launcher.

5. If you are not west indian… remember…. twerking shall never defeat whining. This is law.. The world has led you astray. 

All the Dominican surgical’s can’t help you here.. you built like a freshly pulled tooth 🦷 and can’t dance for shit. That skinny girl giving you all the work. She is rolling her eyes at YOU.. yeah… this is her kingdom girl… she can’t fill out a pair of windbreaker pants but will blow you off the dance floor. You are outside your jurisdiction.

Everybodys looking. We secretly look at you the way you look at white people dancing… with amused pity.

Yes… we know the words to all these songs.

Yes.. the Dj asked you if your pussy is good.

Yeah.. thats normal… its actually a compliment.

Yeah he shouted it… he gonna shout over all this shit.

Yes that old man IS checking you out.

No.. you can’t go upstairs. Because the uncles that aren’t allowed down here for monstrous reasons are up there lurking… like chupacabra

NO you DON’T want to meet them… some of them niggas ain’t allowed to babysit.

Don’t eyeball those broads… they a different kind of ratchet.

The backyard is for smokers and dudes trying to take you home TONIGHT…. list goes on.

The best dick you’re ever going to have is here, but you don’t want it… it’ll be administered by a nigga named Fitzroy St Joseph McCloud who will get your number very calmly while two women fight over him on the front lawn. This man will exhale and look you right in the eyes dreamingly and say “you know… I don’t know what all that excitement is about. Some people just shouldn’t drink”. 

This man has 47 children.

This can seem a bit overwhelming to the uninitiated.

People will ask you what you “are”. They want to know what kind of west indian your family is so they can play the averages of how to proceed. No one likes to talk about it, but they will treat you like however those people have stereotypically been. Jamaican contractor left them with a half finished deck… they will steer the conversation towards honoring your commitments and find out if your family knows his. Its unfair but we are collectively used to it.

They will also look disappointed when you go “oh.. im just plain old black”. They hit you wit the ohhh… awwww…. well thats ok… are you having fun? Do you understand the words? Like you told them ur in a wheelchair with down-syndrome.

That can be uncomfortable, so just pick some 3rd tier country and claim it (parkway rules). If you are unclear with the tier system ask a Jamaican, Trini, or Guyanese. Those are your 1st tier west indians. Then you got your Bajans, Grenada, and ill let Aruba, Antigua and VI fight it out for “other places who can’t make patty for shit but you can still get shot.”

Bahamas, Bermuda, or Saint (Anything). Those places have low gun violence and inferior curry. Be them… we will expect less of you lol.

Panama i love you, but you know we dont know what you’re saying… which makes you Dominican. I dont make the rules. And Surinam is just “weird” Guyana.

Ok… don’t do your face like that… if a Yankee called you a coconut I’m right there with you to help you stomp em out with unlaced timbs. We are family…. this is inside the house talk… you KNOW yall niggas don’t count like that.

You think St. Barts be ringing off in the world? If you don’t have a parade truck on the parkway… you’re not a real country. The president of your country teaches scuba at the Hyatt. Your army wears cargo shorts and sandals. Again, I don’t make the rules. A whole lot of gunman had to literally chase their opposition down a street in Flatbush with a sharpened cutlass in 1983 for us to get this respect. Get your crime rate up or accept your place in the pecking order. Curacao is a shitty mixer.. not a place. Aint no nigga from Nassau gonna do shit besides braid your hair or overcharge you for a cruise activity.

Oh and honorary mentions to Haiti. They give it up…. but these rules don’t even work for yall. Picture an old Haitian man…. you better HOPE he aint buy you a drink. Most of the time you dont have to worry about it, because it ain’t happening anyway. He gonna look wild offended like you tried to put a finger in his butt… and tell you have some water.

These are the rules…. buss a whine in good health

Love’

Kane