Road-eo

That cover is so awesome. It's about time for another Summertime Funmertime playlist. Imma do that.



Hey! Happy Memorial Day. What'd you do? Hamburgers? I hope it was hamburgers. I had a ton of fireworks to shoot off and then I didn't even get to. My weekend was monopolized by a trip to our nation's capital.

One of my best friends from high school was getting married in DC. I headed down Saturday for the brotrothal. Remember? You were helping me pick an outfit. I couldn't decide and ended up taking three outfits with me. BE PREPARED.

The trip down was surprisingly easy after I had prepared myself for the nightmare that is X95 traffic I had heard so much about. A quick pit stop for some rollerblade-chat-inspired Diet Mountain Dew was the only real speedbump.

I think my favorite thing I saw as we pulled into DC was the "WE OPEN LATE" Wendy's sign I saw. You know, someone who actually knows how to read correctly might interpret that negatively. A block from there was a crooked, bent, stained sign which read "US CAPITOL ---->" which I also thought was hilarious. Thattaway. Ha.

Washington DC is bizarre. It's clean, no one there could beat me up, and the streets are wildly confusing and round. It's everything Philadelphia isn't. I give it a B-.

The actual wedding was a wedding. There was church (snore) cake (yum) and drunkenness (meh). White people remain terrible dancers. Especially the ones who are either acutely aware, or completely oblivious, to that fact. Overall it was a good wedding. I was rarely bored, the people who were there are some of my favorite people in the entire world, and I think the wedding was a good idea. Nothing like thinking a marriage will end in bitter divorce/murder suicide to ruin a wedding.

In my mind I thought a post wedding drive home was a much more reasonable plan than a hotel room. Hey, I won't be drunk, why not? Why not?! Because it will be three in the morning and you will have a terrifying and harrowing sleephorror drive home. You will have to hang your head out the window like a goddamned golden retriever just to stay awake through Maryland. Yeah, don't do that next time.

Anyway, keep it real homies. Hollerback for a dope playlist. Hope you enjoyed the travelblogue.

The Cricket

I love Wilson Valdez. I call him the Cricket. Because he is cricket-like.

I have to go to a wedding this weekend for one of my best friends from high school. It's a little weird that a lot of my friends are family-ing up, and in light of all of this love, and life and reflection I am left with a truly important question.

What should I wear?

I turn to the most obvious fashion icon for my personal needs, Rick Ross.

Boss.

And while this black on black on black (on black) is working for him, I fear it might be a little played. Ideas? I probably have better fashion sense than you, but who knows, maybe you will accidentally stumble upon something that is brilliant for reasons that are, frankly, beyond your comprehension.

Oh and here's my impression of life:






Did I tell you guys I have a softball team? No? Oh that's because we didn't win until our fourth game. BUT NOW WE DID so hey - I am on a softball team. I am pretty good.

PEOPLE I AM BRINGING THIS BLOG SHIT BACK. Let's do this.

BOOM!

I'm back from my sabbatical. It was radical.

Since I've been gone, I've been 28, hungry, funny and Philliesed.

But, hey, what's up?

I got my groove back. And through careful introspection, deductive reasoning and a 3 AM watching of the terrible movie, Legion, I now know the difference between Tyrese and Tyson Beckford. Just don't ask me to tell you, because a) that's impossible and b) you must come upon this knowledge yourself. Tabula Rasa or some shit.

Also I saw Thor. It was cool until he turned into a total pussy at the end and was smooching up on Natalie Portman. Like the Thunder God has time for that bullshit. AS IF.

So, since I'm back, feel free to write to me for (good) advice (from a bad person), suggest playlists, purple stuff, or whatever.

In other news:
-My cat just walked into the room, saw the dream catcher (sometimes my dreams need to be caught), which has been there for four months and made a noise I never heard her make before. Like a mix of a growl, a purr, and some dumb bird noise. Cats are weird, but maybe she saw a ghost because I heard cats can do that. Probably not mine though, she gets her head stuck in bags ALL THE TIME. /endcatnews
-I didn't get raptured
-Someone just drove by the HQ blasting a Crystal Waters-esque 90s techno lite dance club hit jam. BLASTING. At 9:15 AM. I almost ran downstairs just to see what kind of human would be into that sort of thing. Guesses?

Check me out here, where I bring the hot fire on a sometimes-more-than-once-a-day basis. Really worth it. It's a twitter link. To my twitter.

Get some.