We don't drink Abita in the hood

Dear NOLA Gentrifiers,

The reason you got such a great deal for your home is because, (drum roll)...IT'S...IN...THE...HOOD.

And guess what, people in the hood, do hood shit—like owning pit bulls (as opposed to chocolate labs and "snickerpoodles"), having loud gatherings, and walking everywhere.

Ironically, some of you moved to the hood with a "When in Rome..." attitude, and have actually embraced hood shit. (Don't think I didn't see you sitting on your porch the other night drinking Abita and eating Raisin' Cane's because you were too tired to cook.) And I'm cool with that, because I was a first-mover who paid less than half of what you paid for my house, and I've had more time to adjust to and get over the "newness" of hood shit.

The real problem is that you moved to the hood, thinking it would be cool to be able to do hood shit like drinking beer on your porch, but you hate seeing the people who held down the hood after your "momma nem" moved out to Metairie, doing the same hood shit.

To quote Tupac, "And you wonder why they call you bitch?"

The reason why our neighbors invite me to the barbeque and give you the side-eye, is because I haven't called NOPD (twice) to report seeing a "suspicious black guy" walking down the street, only to have him be  Miss So-and-So's son who's always walking because he does odd-jobs for people and can't afford car insurance.

So stop being petty and stop drinking Abita, because we don't drink Abita in the hood.