Ahh, the story of my life. From afar, it appears that I'm mackin' like there's no tomorrow. But up close, I'm talking about some nonsense that is likely to land me in the "like a brother" category. Somehow the conversation turned to women with mustaches. Don't ask.
In the words of Biz Markie, "YOUUuuuuu, got whut I NEEEEEeeeeeed . . . but you say he's just a friend, but you say he's just a friend, OH BABY YOUUUUuuuuuu . . . . . " That didn't really apply but I felt like singin it.
FOA had a great appearance on the teli this morning. I woke up to that just before realizing I was supposed to be playin bball with the fellas this morning. I think that's big points! Made it out for a few games. Did I mention I don't know how to play basketball? Yes, brother . . . let me correct myself . . . a brutha . . . who doesn't really know how to hoop. One from Compton nonetheless! I faked it well enough that people thought I was just out of shape. I AM just out of shape, but even in shape I'm not much to watch on the basketball court. A good workout though!
Blood on the floor . . . sounds like the beginnings of the best dts story yet . . . ( (whispering) kill kill kill kill kill kill . . . ah ah ah ah ah ah ah)
jmf
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