From here:

Some History about Playing the Dozens

"Snaps" carry references to one's relatives, especially one's mother. The expression "Playing The Dozens" means to taunt another person by taunting, kidding, "jiving," teasing or insulting their family--in essence, to use "snaps." This "gaming" has deep roots in the humor, personality, and social relationships of Black Americans.

Across the coutry there are many names for Playing the Dozens, such as capping, cracking, bagging, dissing, hiking, joning, ranking, ribbing, serving, signifying, slipping, sounding, and snapping. While the names vary, the rules of the game remain the same.

Playing the Dozens is more than a game of fun--it is a battle for respect. It is an exhibition of emotional strength and verbal agility, a confrontation of wits instead of fists. The dozens is a war of words--perhaps the best type of war there is.

This verbal tradition combines elements of boxing, chess, and poetry. In a contest demanding the poise and power of a boxer, the aim is not just to win but to deliver a knockout. Fought before a crowd, the verbal pugilist wants not only his opponent but all who witness to think twice about confronting him or her again.

Like chess, playing the dozens requires a strategy. To win a battle, you must stay two or three snaps ahead of your opponent. Even as you are being attacked, you should be setting up your counter-snaps. Should I say something about his Fayva shoes? Or perhaps attack his fat sister? I'll save my best shot for his K-Mart cologne. This is the type of strategic thinking that makes a master snapper.

Painting humorous pictures of your opponent through words is key to becoming a dozens laureate. "You're so fat, your blood type is Ragu" is an actual snap fired in a legendary battle at New York's Frederick Douglass Projects. The picture created by this verbal H-bomb still haunts the victim to this day.

Snaps have to be delivered properly in order to work effectively. The setup--"Your mother is so fat..."--is a classic example of how to cock the hammer for the ensuing snap--"...she broke her arm and gravy poured out." Like the firing of an individual snap, the delivery of a series of snaps requires a rhythm. You might loft your initial snaps slowly, then fire the successive barrage with increasing speed.

Members of the audience serve a number of fundamental roles in playing the dozens. First, they are needed to witness the event. Playing the dozens without an audience is like launching fireworks in daylight. Second, they are responsible for recording the verbal history of the battle, and then for spreading it throughout the community. Third, they fuel the conflict by responding to the snaps, and it is their reaction that determines the ultimate winner.

Some Tips for Playing the Dozens

How do you get the audience on your side?

Drawing the crowd's laughter at your opponent is what wins battles. To elicit laughter, you must recognize what makes the audience laugh. First, your snaps must be clever, original, and appear to have been crafted solely for your opponent. Second, a snap that touches a shared reality is a good bet. For example: "Your family is so poor, your father's face is on food stamps." Third, after snapping, you should occasionally eye the crowd. This will keep them laughing at your snaps, in fear of becoming a target if they don't.

Why is "your mother" so often the subject of snaps?

Like the proverbial "Mom" tattooed on a sailor's arm, there is nothing more dear to a man than his mother. Mother snaps go to the soft underbelly of your opponent. In the early days of snapping, mother jokes were the big guns. Their deployment was saved as a last resort--one that often elicited the response, "Don't talk about my mother!" Nowadays, "your mother" is a stylized opening of most snaps. In fact, they are also commonly referred to as mother jokes.

Where is the dozens played?

In playgrounds, on subways, at pizza parlors, in the classroom, on street corners, in locker rooms...anywhere peers hang out. A game of the dozens can be sparked by contact on the court or words exchanged on the street. Increasingly, you can see the dozens played in comedy clubs as comedians defend themselves against audience hecklers. Some comedians get more laughs from snapping on the audience than from their routines.

What is the distance that I should maintain between myself and my opponent?

You may get as close as you want to your opponent without making physical contact. Spatial relations are an important aspect of the game. You can use distance to heighten the effect of a snap. A snap punctuated by a hip shake, fluttering eyes, or lewd hand motion needs space in order for the audience to appreciate the effect of your body language. When the snap is composed of words alone, closing in on your opponent may enhance the power of the attack.

Do women play the dozens?

Historically, the dozens has been a male experience, but women are playing in increasing numbers. Fortunately for men, most battles remain within the sexes.

What do you wear when playing the dozens?

It is smart to wear clothes that do not give ammunition to your opponent. Battling while wearing a strange outfit could be a death wish. If you sense that you might be drawn into the dozens on any given day, be prepared not only with your wit but with your wardrobe.

Do you need a loud voice to win a game?

No. What is important is that you be aware of what kind of voice you have, and use it to your advantage. If you are soft-spoken, do not try to yell, the audience will misinterpret the straining of your voice as a sign that your opponent is landing his snaps effectively. Instead, speak softly and carry a big snap.

In short, the dozens is a thinking person's game. However, the tradition lives on because the game has soul. Ultimately, mastery of the dozens demands that you go to that place where humor, anger, joy, and pain all reside. It is from that cauldron that the greatest snaps are born and delivered.

Here's a link to some common snaps.

Peace.

I've recently discovered that my 5 year old son is excellent at math. Not excellent as in "he can add 2 + 2", but excellent as in he did multiplication by 9 in the car on the way to school this morning. Don't get me wrong; it's great that he has an interest and aptitude toward mathematics. I intend to nurture and foster that gift so that he'll have every opportunity available to him. My issue is, I SUCK at math. I got a 1200 on my SAT, but 710 of that was on the language side. In college, I had to start off on a 5 credit hour remedial algebra course that didn't even count toward my GPA. I got a C in the class. Next up was Calculus 101, one of 4 required calculus courses for my engineering degree. I failed it. I took it again in the fall. Got a D. I skipped it for spring (my psyche needed a break), and took it for the 3rd time in the summer. Got a B, but only because my professer, Dr. Cover, was a raging alcoholic, and would frequently come to class still drunk from an all-nighter at the local strip club. On those days, he'd give an imaginary pop-quiz, and give us all A's. That way we wouldn't complain to Administration. Needless to say, I didn't learn any calculus. Feeling bold, I took Calculus 102, which bitch-slapped me and questioned my manhood. I wisely dropped the course before failing it outright. During that same period, I took Physics 101, another required course, and a course based mostly on calculus. I think it was friends with Calc 102, because I failed it so bad, the professor pulled me aside one day and said "You know, I've had people NOT take tests and do better than you do. You should consider another major." Naturally, being a prideful man, I took that as a challenge. And naturally, my F fit in well with the others I received for calculus. So what did I do? I took it again. And failed it again. At that point, I realized that anything math-related wasn't for me. I got my degree in English 2 and a half years later. As a result of my failures, I feel completely ill-equipped to handle his increasingly difficult math queries. Yeah, it's cool now with the "What's 9 times 7, Daddy? Is it 63?" questions. But what the hell am I going to do when he comes home with one of these in his back pocket? Maybe Dr. Cover is available for tutoring - because I'll need it. Peace.

This is, quite possibly, the saddest thing I've read in at least 3 or 4 days. Star Wars geeks Lining up to see any movie is just about the dumbest shit I can think of, except for the United Healthcare commercial where the guy puts on a fake lion head and starts fucking with a pride of real lions. Or those awful Burger King commercials with that plasticized Burger King dude standing out side people's windows, handing them breakfast, big-ass fake smile on his plastic face. If I saw that oversized lawn jockey outside my window, I'd pull him inside, beat him with a mop handle, and call 911 to report an intruder. Alright, so I'm watching TV while writing this. Fuck you. I'm doing this for you, you ingrate. Back to the Star Wars geeks. Someone please explain to me the phenomenon of standing in line for MONTHS to see a damn movie. Please. This isn't a new thing, but I've always been completely baffled by it. Who are these people that have nothing better to do than to line up outside a movie theaters for weeks or even months, just to see a movie? Movies are not unrenewable resources, like live concerts are - those movies will play at countless theaters for numerous weeks, and even if you miss the thing on theaters because you were watching a "Stargate: SG-1" marathon on Sci-Fi, you can buy the damn thing on DVD when it comes out. In economics, high demand is generally accompanied by scarcity (translation: the less there is of something, the more people want it), but a movie is the least scarce thing there is, with the possible exception of beard hair from Muslim extremists. Therefore, obviously something else is the motivation. Check out this quote from the story: "The telling thing is -- for me, at least -- if the film is not playing at the Chinese ... I have zero desire to see it at all," a fan who calls himself Obi Geewhyen posted on the message board at Liningup.net. "I'm in it for the lineup only and don't give a darn about the conclusion of this lackluster, so-called 'Star Wars' series." Altogether now: what the hell? So, this guy isn't in line for the movie - he's in line to be in line?? Um, I'm no psychologist, and therefore I don't know the textbook definition of psychosis, but I'm pretty sure "standing in line for the sake of standing in line" is mentioned at least twice. What happens if Fox moves the movie to this theater, and Darth Dorkus gets the chance to buy a ticket and see it? Will he just say "Nah, I'm good" and walk back home? Does he earn mad props and street cred for being in line for a couple of months, even though he may not get to see the movie at all? Moreover, how do these people sustain themselves? These aren't all teenagers and college kids - there are some straight-up adults there arguing about who's Jango Fett costume is more authentic. Don't they have jobs? I can't see going to my boss and saying "Hey, I need about a 2 or 3 month leave of absense so I can go stand in line to see this movie - a movie that will be played repeatedly on multiple screens in numerous theaters for several weeks in every major city, and most minor ones too." I've stood in line for concert tickets. That's different. Generally speaking, concerts are only in your town for 1 day, 2 days tops, and they're only doing one show. See, that's scarcity. By and large, the adults aren't dressed as their favorite member of the band (unless it's a KISS concert), and if that concert wasn't taking place, those people in line would very likely have something better to do. These Star Wars fans have been waiting for years, striking days off their Chewbacca calendars, for the golden opportunity to...wait. They've been waiting for the opportunity to be the first to wait some more, and these idiots aren't even waiting at the right fucking place! Oh well - I'll have 'em save me a spot for "Men In Black 3". Peace.

Yes, we're in the band. No, really.