I "woke up" with all intentions of writing about the AMAZING Saturday I had in BROOKLYNNNNNNN. This seems to be a new trend developing that I am ecstatic about. So as I was saying I was about to tell you about yesterday/this morning until I read my Brooklyn co-pilot Dave's TWO "Question of the night" texts and i think he posed it better than anyway i could write it. (DAVE, YOU KNOW YOUR ASS WASN'T DRUNK DOING CRITICAL ANAYLIST AT 2AM, THAT'S NOT WHAT THE HELL I CALL DRUNK TEXTIN). Going to start calling us "THE WARRIORS", because we some Brooklyn dudes who always have some crazy adventures. Here they are:
FIRST TEXT
"Why am I done? Drunk, nice whateva you call it? Maybe it’s because I played a strange drinking game in someone's house! Hah! And now at a weird bar in BK with these bohemian, Nubian folks!!!! Do I Look bohemian to u??? Damn u Gardy!!!!! I’m surprised I’m keeping it together (10-15 drinks lata ) Well I hope u good folks are enjoying this hot ass night. It should be 90 degrees plus tomorrow all over. Sweat city! Use dem roll-ons! I may indulge in one"
SECOND TEXT
"Question of the Night
where da fuck did this nicca Gardy get a bag of bread from at 2AM???? Shyt. The Jews???? Muslims?? Where? Granted it was needed but no bodegas are open. Could Gard be a closet bread dealer???? Hmmmmm..... Ok I hope my blackberry spell check is on point cause I’m DONE! Official! Shout out to the Last Poets. My man Oba's father is a member! Check em out. Off to more water and bread. I think Gard found some special bread from a strange Haitian woman. Sak passe!!"
THAT'S JUST FUNNY, I DON'T CARE WHERE YOU FROM!!!
As you know it's Sunday which means NO RAP, so today’s audio foreplay choice is in honor of Abiodun Oyewole of The Last Poets whom I had the awe inspiring experience and honor of meeting at the 36th annual international African arts festival in Brooklyn yesterday. Their 1970 self titled debut “The last Poets” album TO THIS DAY still brings up emotions in me like no other single piece of music, literature, and/or art. Thank you sir for living up to the legend I created of you.
The Last Poets - Niggaz Are Scared Of Revolution
I AM BLASTING MY BOY DJ M.O.S.’s "BACK TO THE EIGHTIES” mixtape right now, I would say sorry to my neighbors, but they know me already.
It's Sunday and if you've ever met me you know where I'm going a bit later and will be all day. BROOKLYNITES UNITE!!!!
PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS HERE IF YOU HAVE THEM, WOULD LOVE TO READ WHAT YOU THINK.
GVG
~we're the warriors they write epics~
P.S. A very very special shout to the all the amazing individuals I met, re-met, and saw for the millionth time who participated in making yesterday one to write about. You are my peoples for life and I love and appreciate the additions you've made to my memories. Peace and Blessings
No comments:
Post a Comment