Today is yet another day I woke up and paid for my circadian rhythm being all fucked up from years of sleep deprivation which is a consequence of having a good time so many times. I get ready and meet my ride in my drive way and drive away to destination “higher education”. Only thing higher is the price. Walking to class is always fun because ASU is such a nice school to look at (I’m payin for it so I enjoy it). Class is me sitting there trying to find focal a point so I don’t fall asleep. Teacher is insightful but lacks in any attention grabbing rhetoric. So I look at my girl’s (plutonic for now) blog and decide to finally start mines own.
Random thought: On the topic of being fresh/fly/cool/swagger/swag and all that other shit. I used to never be able to buy or wear what I wanted due to my upbringing or school not allowing a certain item of clothing. Got made fun of for jeans that fit colorful watches and polo shirts all the time. So coming to college in 03’ was a liberation for a bruthuh. I had a job which equaled money, there was no dress-code, no fashion tyranny from the parents, so I just took Andre ‘ice cold’ 3000’s philosophy and expressed myself through how I look. Before Lupe, Pharell, Wale, Nigo, Ferrari Murakami got big I looked fuckin weird lol. And I admit I did lol, some of that shit was like whoa (no Black Rob). So a basic theme I carry is that as I grow and become older, so does everything that is connected to me. For example my style my fashion my tattoo meanings my shoe size. For the cats who have been taken over by the Halo Effect (Google that), something does not have to be said in order for it to exist or come into existence. If u fly then so be it. Be fly in the New Balances, be fly in ya polo that’s not made by Polo (which is a collared shirt lol), be fly with yo hair that is in much need of a haircut, be fly before u go and buy that fit. I used to tell people I would be flier than u with ur wardrobe lol. If u saw my closet it would make u laugh how little is in it lol. There was this math problem in grade school that made me figure out how many outfits one could make with like 2 pairs of jeans, 2 pairs of shoes, and some other shit, anyway ihad a random thought and randomly its over.
As a young chap I always wondered what people thought about me or how was I doing as an outstanding member of society. Never really got what I wanted. Facebook honesty box a little bit but every1 is brief on there. Oh shit! I wanted to touch on tattoos or at least mine that I get asked about daily. It is on my right arm (forearm) and say’s Proper Villain. Many people cannot read it because the ‘V’ looks like a ‘D’ to them, which is hilarious to me. The tattoo means Good and Evil. I got the thought from my top rated movies Ocean’s Eleven. The line goes as follows “It’ll be nice working with proper villains again.” In the movie it is simply thieves who are experienced. In my mind it meant opposites existing together which turned into good and evil. When people cannot read it I make up stories about it such as the key to the apocalypse or Barack Obama’s master plan in code- and that another cat who I have never met has the key and cipher- just some off the wall shit. I mean cause I know if you don’t have a tattoo and are not planning on getting one u don’t give a damn what my arm says, its not a picture nor is it attention grabbing. Shout out to folks out there with tatts that mean something.
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