"how’s your mom?"

let’s start here:

so kanye wanna get drunk and act like a minstrel – fxcking up taylor swift’s moment to shine.
she should have politely grabbed the microphone from him – looked him square in the eyes -and said:

“kanye, how’s your mom doing? she alright?”

and then kept on with her speech.
the thing about me is that i have less compassion than the average human.

and then there’s the cheerleader of my dreams that seemed to only date the head of football teams.

i’m a grown man with a crush.
that shxt is hilarious to me – but i definitely like it.
it allows me to hang on to my imagination.

it’s funny how the playing field becomes level sometimes.
see…college was a great time in life, and she and i were in different, yet equal, circles.

she was the type of chick every dude wanted, and i was the class clown that always kept her laughing.
that friend role.

you know that role!

i was the guy that would sneak in a joke to her every chance i got.
and she would laugh and we’d chat it up for a second – i’d compliment her curves and dance moves – and every few weeks at the KAPPA party i’d pour her a shot or two when she requested.
it was what it was.

i have this belief that some things should always remain a fantasy.
once that fantasy becomes real, so many things come to an end.
sometimes it can be a great thing – but most times, it ends in FAIL.

the person you build up in your head isn’t that same person at all.
in my case: what happens if she’s not as cool in real life as she is in my head? what if she’s crazy?

now – 5 years later – she’s still that cheerleader of my dreams – and i’m still the class clown – and i’m trying to keep her laughing as long as possible.


was it me, or did beyonce’s vagina look a bit under developed last night on the vma’s? i know it was hidden behind the thin gold flap, but damn – does it have lips, clit and a face?

i saw nothing.
so i tweet that.

then jill started talking shit about me talking shit about beyonce:
so i was like: don’t get mad at me because her pu**y is boring.

and somebody else was like “jay must not be hitting her with the big ego.”

and in the end i came to the conclusion that beyonce has that vagina all men hate.
looks a little too bland on the outside – too much space on the inside. the walls are too wide – too big – no curving to our penises (yes i said penises).

(this is the part where all the beyonce fans unite and attempt to attack me while i’m not looking.
come on.)

so the weekend was well spent.
one of those weekends that seem entirely too long, but not too bad.

atlantic city was definitely NOT the shxt.
i lost the $30 they gave us just for going – brought a funnel cake – and walked the board walk coming to the realization that atlantic city must be the handicapped capital of the world.
everybody there was in a wheelchair, or crutches, walker, cane.


i was standing in the greyhound station, and this little girl wanted to play the gun game.
which gave cause to the reason i teach my son the things i teach him about the world.

and i will end with this:
did you know that leeches leave their jaws behine when they bite you?

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