A Quote by Mr. T

My momma didn't clean up floors so I could be a thug... so I could wear my pants down. — © Mr. T
My momma didn't clean up floors so I could be a thug... so I could wear my pants down.
I'm from Texas, so we used to wear our pants starched down like a cowboy. So when I got to New York, to New Jersey, everybody was laughing at me like, 'Look at his pants! His pants could stand up by themselves!'
I always said that if I could just find a guy who could chop wood and had a nice smile, it wouldn't bother me if he was a thug or an aristocrat, as long as he was a good guy. And I've ended up with an educated thug.
How many times have people said to me, "I think those pants are incredible, but I could never wear them." Well, why not? What's so different about these pants? I wear very classic things, but maybe with a little change here or there.
My father was very strict with me, and I kept seeing a disparity between their freedom and my lack of it, or how I had all the responsibilities and they had none. And the Catholic Church, all of the rules, and why did I have to wear a dress when they could wear pants? I would say to my dad: 'Will Jesus love me less if I wear pants? Am I going to hell?'
Nothing was ever clean enough for my father. You could never clean as good as he could; you could never clean as fast and as thorough as he could.
You know how Oprah has her moment about bread? Mine's about boots. You could wear it to a meeting at work. You could wear it to a date.You could wear it to a wedding with a suit.
In summer, intolerable closeness; in winter, unendurable cold. All the floors were rotten. Filth on the floors an inch thick; one could slip and fall.
I went to a Christian School, and when I reached a certain age, I wasn't allowed to wear pants to school anymore. There was a big conference about it with my parents about how unladylike it was for me to wear pants ,this was a school where the principal and once of the coaches stood at the front door with a wooden ruler to make sure girls' skirts were an inch below their knee. So, from that day forward, I had to wear skirts, which meant that I couldn't play on the playground like I used to. I really feel like I could've been the next Serena Williams if not for that.
For a while, I could only wear sweat pants because I was that intermediate size that you're not a small, you're not a large.
Since I was a kid, I could make up stories, I could make up funny jokes and I could always do it. When I'm walking down the street or having dinner, ideas will hit me, and I write them down on matchbooks or napkins and throw them in the draw.
My granddaddy on my momma's side, he was a romantic. He loved love songs. Every Valentine's Day, I remember him buying a red carnation for my grandmomma, my momma and my sister. That was something you could count on every year.
The 1990s, in New York at least, were all about who could have the baggiest pants, and I definitely got swept up in that fad. Luckily, it didn't last long - but I've made sure that my pants fit ever since.
And the joys I've felt have not always been joyous. I could have lived differently. When I was your age, my grandfather bought me a ruby bracelet. It as too big for me an would slide up and down my arm. It was almost a necklace. He later told me that he had asked the jeweler make that way. Its size was supposed to be a symbol of his love. More rubies, more love. But I could not wear it comfortably. I could not wear it at all. So here is the point of everything I have been trying to say. IF I were to give a bracelet to you, now, I would measure your wrist twice
I understand signifiers. We're social creatures and we have a physical language of communicating with each other. But it would be a really beautiful thing if we could all just wear what we wanted, without it meaning something… it would be a lovely place if we didn't necessarily judge or jump to conclusions because someone wants to wear a dress or because someone wants to wear pants.
The thing that was fascinating and frustrating about Pac was that he clearly knew better than to go down the gangster road that he went down. Pac knew - and he was right - that thug energy could be redirected into fearless positivity.
Then I smell the sweat on him, a clean musky scent that I'd bottle and wear as perfume if I could.
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