Word to My Trust Fund

I’m walking in New York’s Upper East Side. I pass a bunch of white kids in a circle rapping and beat boxing. In the rap world that’s called a cypher. Now there’s nothing too strange about white kids rapping. But these were like prep school, Abercrombie wearing, trust fund having types. Half of them were girls. They kind of looked like an a capella group gone wild. I think I counted 6 Navy Pea coats and 4 pairs of Dockers. Eminems they were not. You gotta love Hip Hop.

Funny... you’ll never see a bunch of black guys in wife beaters and Du-Rags playing hacky sack.

With This Ring I Thee Dead

A wedding is the ultimate killer of rocky relationships. A couple that attends a wedding can’t help but look at each other and ask “Maybe us?” If the answer is yes, then someone is going to start dropping hints. If the answer is “Hell to the Naw”, then cue the fat lady. Why am I wasting my time with this guy/girl... If I want to assemble my family and have them do the Cha-Cha and Electric Slide, I better find someone who I can meet at the altar.

The saddest part of a break-up:
When both people exhale and calmly talk about all the shit that’s been on their minds in a non-confrontational way. All the shit that had been getting in the way. All the shit that if had been discussed while you were together...you would still be together. Ain’t that a kick in the head. Handle your shit before it handles you.