Orange Like Me Let's face it, I've never been a victim of racial profiling, although back in 88 I wore a high top box cut wig to a (Halloween) house party and it certainly changed my profile in all the pictures. In a racially provocative way, I was posing hard, leaning back, and saying in my loudest voice possible - I'm whack and I'm proud. Afterwards Stevie and Paul gave me pounds on the break dance cardboard located on the cement block. Back then it was always cool to go cross-culture, especially when you got mad props, but the excursions were usually day trips and I knew where the school bus was taking me after. It got me thinking, what if the Ewing was on the other foot? Would I be able to laugh it off if I got pulled over for probable cause? What if my name was Diallo, or worse yet, what if my name was Maurice Green and not Malice? I may never feel the wrath of racism in my lifetime, but what about all the people around me who do? Latino's, Mexican's, and the Spanish have all been the butt of numerous jokes, and for what? I could only imagine walking a day in their shoes or driving a mile in their El Camino. In fact, one couldn't pay me enough cabbage to put up with the stereotypes and abuse that they suffer through. Enough was enough; I had to put myself in their position- to feel what they truly felt. I had to make the despair tangible. Without delay, I went out and purchased a wife-beater, a hair net, and the Gypsy King's Greatest Hits. Within two seconds I was jumped and the shit was totally kicked out of me. What made it worse, was that an old Lady- who may or may not have been somebody's old lady- was the culprit. Another bad omen was that she was totally blind, thus negating the racial profiling. Maybe it was the Gypsy King's, or maybe it was my newfound propensity to drive my family around in the back of my truck, who knows? All I knew for sure was that if this experiment was going to work, I had to pick something neutral. Lets see, Black Like Me has already been done, and white people have played every single minority in the movies (Daniel Day-Lewis in Last of the Mohicans portrayed a Mexican), which basically leaves me with only one option- Orange. Done. I filled my tub with Hawaiian Tropic spray on tan, gave one final racially provocative pose, and jumped in. Days turned into seconds. Seconds turned into an eternity. Eternity turned into CK one. Slowly I emerged from the tub. My gold chains sparkled, my shirt became tighter, my pants snugger in the inseam, and my Ferragamo alligator loafers shined. Hammer pose. Life was better already, but things would change. I left my house that day thinking I was the shit, so I shit on the neighbour's lawn . . . EXCERPTS FROM THE INSIDE COVER JACKET OF THE FORTH COMING EXPOSE - THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE CHICANO WHO STOLE MY FUCKIN EAGLES ALBUM. Here's what critics are saying about 'The Good, The Bad, and The Chicano Who Stole My Fucking Eagles Album': "Brilliantly racist, and yet done in a totally racist way!" David Duke, Alabama Burning. "Great Book, man." Pagoda "After I finish Animorphs, I'll definitely pick up this!" Joel Stiegal, USA Today "It was a tearjerker." Amber Walsh