Hot Wings, Cold Beer, Good Times

Here’s to the newly instated Code Of The South, gents. Slightly stale from Myrtle Beach (they call it “North Myrtle Beach” but I ain’t a sucker.) The accents are thick, and when left from a fair belle’s lips, usually makes me melt. What can I say? I really like it down here. It’s a different country, powerful different. Enough about the dirty ‘ol South, and more about; why you are here, me. Chill, this is what it is...

To take stock in the utmost of honesty, I’d much rather be drawing and designing right now, or working on that killer screenplay I may never start, but that is where my dreams are, and this keyboard and word processor; reminiscent of last minute meaningless school essays, are what my head’s on. So get this stroke of gentle genius, I’m going to use this blog as an autobiography in motion. This is what a blog is for, right? I’m not always right, but I’m never wrong. I’m actually a lefty, and on top of that, my grammar is terrible; however, it is my grammar. If anything, I’m giving you a break. Expect the bottom of my heart in every one of my run-on, broken, and ‘oddly worded’ sentences. Maybe something bigger could come from this? “We can only hope for an Indian Summer” As Chris Mojan of Fireworks fame would say, “the crops depend on it.”

I’ve been on a straight spree of listening to strong-voiced females with soul for days. I think it’s my natural instincts reminding me that Summer’s over, Fall flew by, and Old Man Winter is crashing the party and maybe it is about time to find a queen to cozy up to. Unfortunately, I have expensive taste and animated wolf eyes before I remember I’m the king of a castle nobody else wanted. I had to flip the game plan and strengthen my hems. I have no idea what “hems” are or even how I could go about making them stronger, but I heard Donovan Strain talking about them on Buteryass Mondays, and that shit is hysterically genius. Don’t sleep, you might learn something. Pardon the tangent, my mind is back on Lauryn Hill, Mariah Carey, The Cardigans, and most recently Amy Wineouse (David Ruffin, James Brown, and George Clinton had a hell of a problem too!). Buy Lauryn Hill’s Unplugged and hear it. Don’t just listen to it, hear it.

I’ve said too much. This message unfortunately does not possess the technology to self destruct.

Staying busy,
BAM

Mariah Carey ft. Jay-Z- Heartbreaker

Mariah Carey ft. Ol Dirty Doggy, Dirt McGirt- Fantasy

Japan are you in the house?