I love waking up, kicking my covers down to my feet, cuddling with my Mini Schnauzer Manolo, while I listen to a little tuneage and checking my text messages. I’m a very busy and important person…ha ha
Long story short, its 10:27am, and Erykah Badu is hanging out while I drag my losery ass out of bed. I need to hop in the shower as The Homie is coming over this morning, and that means all kinds of crazy fuzzy adventures all over town.
I think tonight we’re all heading out to The Valley(which is not a part of LA I’m going to miss), to hang out with some crazy ghetto fabulous strippers. Some of the best times I’ve had in recent times come when the Dera and I are sitting in the back of a seedy strip club, on these velour tufted banquets, sipping our coffee and watching white girls with absolutely no rythm try to shake their asses to some of the hoodest gangsta jams known to man, you know its going to be a good night when the dancer cant even walk to the stage without tripping over her 8-inch-lucite-hoe-kicks. I mean hey, I love the gangsta jams as much as the next bitch, but if you cant shake it, dont insult me with by popping that coochie and dropping it like its hot, because my dear, it is NOT hot.