Play your part. Play your part.

You know I

thug em, fuck em, love em, leave em,
'cause I don't fuckin need em...


Just jokin - I do need 'em!
Ah love, sweet love! Happy Valentimes! Let’s all make out, sext each other, discuss the qualities in a lady that make you want to wife her (it's hips and musical knowledge, silly) and listen to “Let’s Do It Again” and every Stevie Wonder record pre-1981. Then maybe a special sex thing that we only bust out 3 or 4 times a year. Also, ice cream! It's 76 beautiful degrees out today.


I do not care for fake holidays courtesy of Hallmark, Inc, but I do like sweet things and romantical things and I do like a fake holiday if that holiday provides a crucial link between Ralph Wiggum and the bawsses of the Gulf Coast, plus Andre Benjamin in a kilt talkin bout not wanting to be an old man sitting on his porch alone. Aw. Last summer I got so mad at Pitchfork when they didn't put “Int'l Players Anthem” high enough on one of their many, many lists (so many lists, that site. Jesus.), then I realized, oh wait, fuck Pitchfork/who cares/sometimes I get too heated about things and it's bad for my blood pressure. I've calmed down some. Hit it, Willie.



Willie Hutch - “I Choose You.”

mp3.










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