I was the one who shouted “No New Friends” the loudest, but now I welcome strangers.

It has almost been a year since I made my departure from college to the savage streets of adult life. Amidst living alone and learning to manage my money, I took a look at the state of my friendships post grad. I realized that it is pretty hard to keep up with people period, but even harder when you have real life obligations you have to fulfill day to day. Suddenly, people who I used to talk to every week, I wouldn’t trade words with for months. College is a point in your life where you are constantly meeting temporary people, people who won’t matter a year or 6 months after graduation. I had always read about this theory, but it all became reality after hanging up my cap and gown in the dark corner of my closet. I realized that so many people, friends, were just in your life because they had to be at that moment. You all had that same class, or were out at that same bar, or were in that same fraternity. But in the end, once those mandatory meetings ceased to exist and people moved on with their lives, well so did those friendships. There is an end to every friendship which is bittersweet, but what started me to thinking was wondering when I would taste bitter. Maybe you can contribute it to living alone, and being obsessed with my own space and my own thoughts, but I stopped caring when things ended. After graduating, I found beauty in the end in every sense of the word. The end to me now meant new beginnings. The end to me before meant sadness. So, I started to wonder why I no longer felt remorse for getting to the end of a friendship. I was the one who shouted “No New Friends” the loudest, but now I welcome strangers. I think that when you grow up, new perspectives are always needed. Which is what I am now welcoming. I have garnered no new friends over the last year, but I have lost a ton. I believe this is preparing me for a rebirth of new ideas, new perspectives, and new memories. I may be in the 2% of people who never want to look back at college as being the greatest four five years of my life. There is so much I am still learning about myself, that there is no way I could ever look back and categorize this time as the “best years of my life”. But almost a year out of this chapter ending, I’m still waiting to taste bitter. I don’t think there is any love lost, only gained. I look forward to seeing people who lost my opinion, my guidance, my likeness still eating. Even though I will not be sitting at the table with them. I am very much so just thankful for those who I haven’t met an end with yet and looking forward to sharing new ideas with fresh personalities. I’m comfortable with meeting the end. I remember that all good things must end before your new beginning. Here’s to new beginnings, brand new vinyls, and champagne pops.

Yours Truly,



I was able to see white faces, drunk faces, commit the same crimes with lesser consequences.

So before I get into the fact that I was unfairly stopped for something that literally a dozen of people without color did not got stopped for, I just want to acknowledge how fire this More Life playlist is. I had originally planned to push my post to tomorrow but after the liquor got going and I felt the shot clock of being downtown widening, I figured this was a perfect time for me to get on here and talk some shit. Now while I feel like I turn up to every Drake project that has been dropped dating back to So Far Gone, this turn out was no different. After having a couple of my boys recognize that this drop was far too complex to just settle in with a pair of iPhone earphones, my arms were twisted to host a kick back. Which meant alcohol of course. And just like any Saturday that has taken place from 2011 to now I obliged. Gladly I sit here while Do Not Disturb sprays in the background. I can’t help but think of the court date in April that I have coming up. To just give you guys a bit of a background, here in little boogie down basic Melbourne, there is a bar named Off the Traxx. Well if you are anyone who is anyone you know about the back entrance. The patio to this bar where the drinks are stronger and the vibes are way realer. I’ve casually taken this stroll, a long but narrow dark bridge of lane layered with a train track that leads to the back entrance to a plethora of bars. After making it to the destination with a friend, we were stopped, by two rent-a-cops. No warning, but we were confronted with a bunch of fancy words that equated to us being fucked. Now a ticket is a ticket, which is what we were getting, citations. But what really stung me is the fact that I was able to see drunk faces, white faces, people who were actually making it a mission to walk on these coveted train tracks getting the option to walk free. It concerned me that these people were getting warnings when we were not given the slightest option. Of course, I got mouthy with the cops, but who wouldn’t? This was unfair. This felt like when your least favorite teacher in third grade kicked the base a little closer on Field day for that shitty ass group of classmates that you hated. But this was all too familiar to me. A new lease on life was renewed for me, or so I was waiting for it. I don’t know if I was counting my chickens before they hatched but I sensed that I would be walking away from this ordeal. And in that moment there was a sense of happiness that fell over me and calmed me. I wonder when being able to walk away alive from a police encounter became something to brag about, but instantly I knew not to question it. So now I sit with what appears to be a juvenile ticket, I’ve given this pop belly basic ass cop the wrong address three times, and a fake social security number. I stare at a court date that plays around a trip to Charlotte that I had already planned on not remembering. Do I even show up? For me, yes. Because as K Michelle says, “I got some bitches to stunt on,” and I feel like these cops picked the wrong one to mess with. This isn’t my first run-in with the cops in this shitty town and I know it probably won’t be the last, but I think that a nice tuxedo will go  a long way in letting a judge know that I am not the one to be finessed. But what I’m most disgusted about last night is that this bar, Off the Traxx had a line. This bar that I created. That I single handedly made pop. I will be the one to say that it was not a vibe until it hit my Snapchat. But that is neither here nor there. This blog goes out to all the people I no longer entertain who I saw last night. Keep being thrifty.

Yours Truly,


5 Ways to Unlock Strength During Spring Break Withdrawals

So if you are like any other recent graduate in America right now, you may be dealing with some massive FOMO. For those of us who still have friends attending colleges and universities in Florida, we are all well aware that March is basically a big block of Spring Break Debauchery. The twenty-somethings who aren’t living under a rock will be haunted by spring break posts in almost every corner of social media that they should choose to trek to. Pile that on top of an aggressive work week at the office, and you’ve got a recipe for disaster that only a dark room, ambient music, and a shitty Netflix marathon can fix. Luckily for you guys, I will present to you 5 ways to unlock your true strength while handing your spring break withdrawals.

  1. Proper Music Selection. giphyNow if you are like me and are lucky enough to be able to bump music in your workplace, this is a major key. Music not only boosts your productivity but once you get to stringing together albums and playlists, the hours of the day melt away pretty quickly. I would recommend my Future playlist I created with my favorites from his last two albums which I will link here Issa Playlist. Even if you can’t listen to music while you work the playlists on the ride to and from work are key as well. I can’t tell you how many times this past week I’ve gotten into my car feeling bitter that I wasn’t waking up on a cruise ship. After a couple plays of Pull Up With Ah Stick, I’m ready to let it hit at the workplace. BOOM, spring break scaries defeated. This also goes on to mention that your shower playlist needs to be on point during this spring break debauchery. While showers clean us, relax us, and help relieve stress, the tunes we pair with it will help to battle off those stupid thoughts you got while watching Toya nurse that same rum bucket the whole day on somebody’s beach.
  2. Mid Week Happy Hour. tenorKinda mad at myself that I didn’t take my own advice on this. Whilst every hour is happy hour when I’m alone at my apartment, nothing beats just getting up and actually being in a bar environment. Especially during the week, because most of the times that is when their specials are the most proper. There’s also just the gamble of going out to a bar in the middle of the week that you have to deal with. What’s the crowd going to be like? But, if you are unlike me and can get over that hump or have people to go with I would definitely 10/10 recommend pursuing it. Some of my greatest stories from this little town start with “So we were at happy hour”.
  3. Shorten Your Social Media Stint. post-31321-hes-wired-in-gif-The-Social-Ne-y2MQSeriously I think this should go without saying. Or even a social media cleanup may be necessary. You don’t need to see Tommy on his 9th spring break ripping beer bongs like it is nobody’s business. You can’t get FOMO if you don’t know what you’re missing out on. Cue the forehead point meme guy. If you are one of those people who is constantly connected, this step will prove to be very hard for you. But honestly, we could all use a little break from social media here and there. It can get very overwhelming between Donald Trump’s tweets and the omnipresent reminder that you never have a spring break to look forward to again. So take a break, go to the gym, do good, and try the social media thing again in April.
  4. Watch/Read Good Content. tumblr_oko4bkEF2z1s78x4wo2_400Another way to forget about all the spring break you’re missing out on is to dive into your favorite series and books. Using that hour before you go to bed to get it cracking on that book you’ve been meaning to read is better than scrolling through Instagram anyway. If you’re anything like me you are waiting for Rihanna to make her appearance on the final season of Bates Motel. After passing out behind Monday’s Rihanna-less episode, I didn’t get a reminder of Spring Break until the close of work Tuesday. I say all of this to say it doesn’t just have to be books or tv shows to get your spring break amnesia going. Whatever relaxes you can help as well, whether that be going for a jog or taking a few extra minutes to call and check on your grandma.
  5. Take PTO.


If all else fails and you are just too weak to go on take some time off if you can. You’ve gotta use that time anyway right? If you’re a nice person unlike me you won’t leave your team in shambles. But hey, who says you are too old to go drink for drink with the 21-year-olds? You’re still pretty young anyway, and who needs time off at Christmas? If you do choose this route just remember that you can’t just roll over when that alarm clock comes Monday like you used to do for that 8 AM Physics lab. If you are strong enough to take about the pros and cons that come with this choice then go ahead. Just make sure you have ample stories to go around when you get back. And don’t be the 24 year old still running the beer pong table. I hear they hate that dude..yikes.

Yours Truly,


Watch Out For Your Remy Ma Friends

Unless you have been living under a rock for the past week, then you will have known that former inmate Remy Ma has taken it upon herself to throw a couple jabs in the form of diss songs at the current self proclaimed Rap Queen: Nicki Minaj. For the sport of Hip-Hop, black twitter has cheered from the sideline in the midst of this, some showing loyalty to either side and others on the fence about it.

Now, while rap beef always draws the attention of Hip-Hop fans far and wide eager to see the best bars on display. Today’s world doesn’t quite compete when it came to the beefs of yesteryear. There were times where rap beefs lead to the falling of empires, demise of careers, and death. Which makes me question where the excitement for such events came from, especially amongst the black community. I think that deep down it all stems from the point that people love to cheer for the underdog, until of course the underdog actually starts winning. Once that underdog strings together a combination of wins where they are no longer the underdog, the community searches heavily for a new contender, a new winner. They hate to see you winning for too long.

I’m always up for a good rap beef. Especially when responses are original and produced in a timely manner. But today with social media and the belief that jokes are greater than facts, people often fly off the handle hyping things that are sometimes very untrue.

Remy Ma strung together punchlines in her Shether diss that as the week went along a running tally of her claims were deemed false. When no response came back, she went on to praise the song’s chart ranking, which came days after her acknowledging the fact that sales don’t matter. After having to continuously see Minaj on her Instagram feed partying with models and sitting front row at some of the top shows during Paris fashion week she went on to put out another track: Another One. This subpar track with a low budget beat was a complete rip of Drake’s Back To Back from the first word Remy uttered. In my opinion this deadened a lot of the momentum that Remy had moving forward with Shether. Not only was the diss unoriginal, it sucked. After being handed out L’s by the majority of black twitter, who had just a short few nights ago praised her for her performance on Shether, she grew angry. Even resorting to posting a risqué old photo of Minaj to gain control of the situation.

If you had never heard anything about this and are puzzled, trust me I was too. This quick change of emotion came from a woman, who on every radio show interview she’s done in the past year, when asked about Minaj has had nothing but nice things to say. Phrases like “She’s never done nothing to me” and “She’s supposed to say she’s the Queen” were now being replaced with phrases like “She’s doing things behind the scenes” and “She’s trying to keep me from getting a bag”. All of this of course for the general audience will lead to unanswered questions that unfortunately will stay unanswered for a long while.

So where does this leave us? Well Hip-Hop fans around the world all agree that Minaj must respond to this formidable opponent even though Another One was garbage. Some fans state that Minaj shouldn’t even worry about it because Remy is trying to gain clout off of her name and the situation. I think that Minaj will respond. The difference however will be that Minaj will string together a combination of tracks and subliminals that will outline a Platinum Album.

What can we learn from this? Watch out for your Remy Ma friends. There will be friends who are always silently competing with you. They may not clap when you win, but they are there when you might happen to slip up. These Remy Ma friends will also claim to support you, but honestly they have been hating the whole time and really are just plotting on your down fall. There is nothing you can do to avoid these friends. They will seep into your circle here and there especially at a young age. Just know that what’s meant for you will always be for you and that God never said the weapons wouldn’t form just that they wouldn’t prosper.

Yours Truly,



My title is solely named after the fourth drink in my flight at the brewery. No Game of Thrones spoilers here for those who may be brought here by the shameless tag that I will plug on WordPress. I’m really just trying to figure out why I am feeling this alcohol the way that I am. For those that know the Florida me, I was able to hit my favorite brunch spot ever Backwater today. And after slamming a carafe or two and having the best limp bacon to date I felt like it was better to write now while I have the power to do so.

February, a month that is heralded as Black History Month. Something that I celebrate down to the second every day. Trust me I will tell your grandma on the street how a black man created the stop light. I have also never been in a wreck, but if the time ever does come I plan on using this same fact to my advantage with Geico. I feel like everyone owes us checks. But anyways, February has been good to me. Just as a side note, this r in February is tripping me the fuck out right now. I have been able to link up with four of my day 1’s in one month. And for that I am forever thankful. I don’t know but its something about getting drunk with people who were on your Myspace Top 8 that screams vintage. I love this, because I try to get as much of a vintage aesthetic as possible in multiple crossings of this journey. For any thirty somethings that may be reading this post I am sorry, please look away, but this is strictly for my young twenty somethings. Think about your myspace top 8 right now, and if you can accurately check all of them off the list for getting fucked up with I will applaud you because it has been a task.

One of my reasons for creating this space, was for me to be able to basically communicate whatever I wanted to communicate in a public documented sense. So, I recently started working on a pilot script for the American Black Film Festival which I am very excited about. I’m not the one to ever really talk about anything I’m plotting, but for me I just felt like this is something I want documented. I plan on incorporating my writings in future blogs, so to just get it out there here is me speaking on it.

As I sit here in a dimly lit room, with the light sounds of Age Ain’t Nothing But A Number spraying in the background, I wonder how 22 year old Joe ever successfully drank from noon to 2 am. After a few mimosas, a flight of beers, and a shimmering glass of wine I am wondering where nap time is. Is that lame? I think that I should have trophies for how easy it was for me to pop bottles of champagne into cheap beers into a sea of well liquor. I start bobbing my head in a cocky manor as I list out my drunken accolades.

As I dust off my shoulders, I think about the 3 boot and rally’s that I was able to produce from an old friend. I pride myself in being able to turn it up when it is most definitely needed.

But I think I am mostly just serving this post as a means to let everyone know to always go with what you believe in. I am going to work on my script and listen to a couple records. If we’re in the same city, mention this post and its shots on me. Y’all know how the kidd get down.

Yours Truly,




I was hoping to find the Bruno Mars album that I had hidden behind 6 copies of Adele’s 25 on my last visit

As I slosh back onto my sofa and get comfortably wrapped up in my blanket, I pull my Mac closer all the while organizing my thoughts for this post. I discard my computer to the other side of the sofa to get up and close the dust cover on my record player. My big gray blanket shadows me as I sit back on my throne. The new record for this weekend is My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. I fold the screen of my computer inward to take a look at the over the top vinyl packaging Ye put together for this album. It is my first set to include 3 LPs which I guess is pretty interesting.

Today or this weekend I should say is finally pretty chill for me. If you’ve been following my last two posts or have taken a peek into the inebriated eyes of my snapchat you will know it has been pretty lit. And being the closeted introvert that I am it was very much so time for me to get my fix. As I look up to see Romeo Must Die playing on my TV for the second time in two days I realize that it is time for me to switch LP’s as side A&B of the first are over.

Today was all about errands for me. Wanted to take my white bomber to the cleaners as right now it looks like all I did that night was two step and hit the Fabo.


Just for anyone who didn’t get the Fabo reference. But anyways, I was late to the cleaners per usual so that will have to wait until Monday. I figured I would hit the mall and sell my cracked iPhone 6 since Verizon basically told me I played myself thinking they’d give me a coin for it back in November. $75 dollars was all I was able to get for it, but I kept it trucking. This money was gonna equate to me buying a new record I thought. After swinging by Auntie Anne’s for some cinnamon sugar nuggets I stomped towards FYE. In all honesty I was hoping to find the Bruno Mars album that I had hidden behind 6 copies of Adele’s 25 on my last visit. Of course some imbecile had since rearranged my creation and it was nowhere to be found. Luckily after scanning the records for about half an hour and brushing past countless copies of Late Registration and College Dropout, I saw the only copy of MBDTF. I figured this is what I should leave the store with as I had planned a purchase of it a while back but of course ended up taking it out of my cart. All was well in my record hunt today as I write this over Devil In a New Dress which is arguably Rick Ross’s deepest cut in my opinion.

I forgot to mention how there’s a Donald Trump rally in town today. All of which is weird to me seeing that the campaign trail is over. But whatever it is, while sitting in traffic I realized that God put me at this very moment so that I could roll my windows down and blast FDT as loud as possible. So that I did, twice. The first time was much more exciting as I aroused a bunch of “Women for Trump” supporters and also given the finger from some man in his mid 40’s resembling Dylan Roof.

Other than that excitement the rest of my Saturday has been as bland as I wanted. Got a much needed car wash and did my least favorite adult errand: Grocery shopping. I remember the days going to the store with my mom and loving the thrill of throwing shit I wanted into the cart. I always vowed that when I was old enough the cart would consist of nothing but orange gatorade, dinosaur shaped nuggets, and chips a hoy. Now while I no longer have the fear of remembering whether or not I remembered to defrost the chicken as I hear the garage door start to creak open, I now have to worry about having things that agree with all the new found cracks of different bones that I’m experiencing as I navigate through my 20’s.

Well I’m gonna listen to the last side of the last LP of MBDTF and then turn on OVO sound radio so I can hear Oliver tell me how More Life is just a myth.

Yours Truly,



I have never written off my iPhone. 

I have never written off of my iPhone. But imma talk my shit tonight. I was supposed to be chilling this weekend but I’m out. I’m supposed to be on my couch watching This Is Us. But you know what, ain’t shit I can do as we bump over the hardest rail road that I’ve experienced from a back seat. I’m actually shocked that I had visitors at my apartment. As I let the backseat window down of one of my brother’s Jetta to make sure I am at the center of Drake’s first verse on Sneakin. If you know me I’m very centered. Centered and mastered on making sure that I have my own space and my own shine at all times. A buzz is what I am occupying. After a day where I saw off an unfamiliar girl that I know as being the giver of dirty spoons at Cold Stone. I pause and look out the window as Drake taps in on how he’s young but making millions to work the night shift. In editing I erase a drake lyric because it doesn’t sound right and I am not sure if I actually heard it or it is the buzz talking. I’m wondering if I’ll have enough battery to Snapchat the night. I remember that this is so unlike me anymore. “It’s over it’s over I’m leaving I’m gone.” A spit from this guy that I know is accurate. A guy who has been some what like a soundtrack to my whole college experience. I rub my head. I’m settled now in a room with nothing illuminating but the hallway light of my buddy’s walkway. Of course I’m connected to the Bluetooth. I push Tuscan Leather to the speakers. As the sounds start to fill the room I look up. I scratch my brow a bit and try to remember where I was the first time I heard this intro. My eyes close. I think about my junior year of college. My first college house. An ex roommate of mine who is actually occupying my buds at this point turns on a light. I’m fine I utter. The darkness consumes me. I wonder if it’s just me who feels this music like this. I wonder if I’m just drunk. Another bud of mine walks into his home. Gone from flying planes and shit. I snap back to reality and get up to greet a friend of mine. An awkward greeting that comes with knowing someone. It’s not really knowing someone. It makes me wonder my greetings. Anyways I get back to the living room and start Tuscan leather back from the top. Drake talks about how he and Nicki weren’t talking etc. I think about how I was ready to cut Tia off. Then I think about how we patched things up and how I’m nothing without some of these friends who turned family. I shed a tear while I’m deep in Apple Music. I think about how raw this post was between my thumbs. And how I’m giving you guys the raw from between my two ears. “You feeling yourself Joe”. I hear from one of my best friends as he peers out from his room in all black with nothing but the orange letters REVENGE blaring from his chest. 305 to my city shuffles to the center of the room. I look up to the clock wondering when am I gonna end this post because I feel like I’m giving too much of an invite into my thoughts. I thought to change that to incite but an invite as well. I feel like I read on my horoscope about some type of moon or planet interfering with me. Currently I’m thinking about how I put my Take Care vinyl on for my friends. Specifically because I stuttered on taking the needle off my record. If I scratched it I’ll be on suicide watch. Let me know how you guys feel about the Friday to Saturday content. I’m not trying to make it a regular thing. As you know Saturday’s are my shit. I’m always down to play with the pen though. Imma go though, commented on a family members Facebook post and now I’m getting spammed so imma deal with that. 

Yours truly,


Just cause you caught us in the Super Bowl don’t mean you’ll cash us ousside

With nothing illuminating the room but the purple lights behind my TV, I start to recollect on my crazy trip to Atlanta that caused me to miss a weekly post for the first time since starting black grad life. I take a sip from my Yeti cup and press the lock button on my iPhone. The featured image of this blog pops up on my lock screen. I snicker and then then think about 31 unanswered points. I figured since I’m hitting you guys with two posts back to back like Jordan ’96 & ’97 that I’d better get the ATL shenanigans out of the way first. So here we go, I’m going to try my best to recap Last Friday-Monday. Just as a precaution, a lot of the details are still a bit hazy and the story may be altered to fill in the gaps but here we go….

Friday: February 3rd.

I got into a brisk Atlanta around 5 Friday evening. After a little bit of a hustle and bustle and waiting for my friend to pick me up, we finally made it to a restaurant downtown for dinner. Here is where my first mistake of the night came…I had a couple shrimp skewers. BRUH. That was dinner for me. After Teddy hopped off her bus (lol), we finished up with the little snack and headed to get prepared for a Pregame. Mistake No.2…who still pregames? Getting fucked up before going out for me nowadays just means that a blackout is on the horizon. Anyways..we ended up getting a bottle of Captain for this little pregame situation. It starts out quaint. No one is drunk..or drinking really. But at some point everyone settles in to themselves after the period of “Who are these friends you’re introducing me to” fades. These were friends of Amber’s throwing the pregame and the feng shui of the place was solid as well as the selection of liquor. Fast forward to mistake no. 3 we finished the bottle of captain at the pregame. WE meaning mostly me. And let me tell you, I had all the drinking card games so I made sure everyone had that same energy as me going to the bars. So fast forward to going out… this is where it gets hazy. So we were at this bar and I’m not sure who I thought I was but I was drinking grey goose and red bull all night. Mistake no. 4…I mixed brown and clear. JESUSSSSSS. So..idk when it hit me or what I did, but you know your boy had to boot & rally. For all you peasants who aren’t aware of the term, it is when you have to throw up due to drinking, but you don’t let throwing up stop you. You regroup and you get right back at it.


Exactly. Except I don’t got no chill. So anyways the bartenders were up in that bathroom after me like I’m some sort of mass communications sophomore who doesn’t know how to aim for the toilet. They cut me off. So I had to move…with the crew….away from you….to another bar. This is where I don’t remember anything honestly. There were couches and a lot of dancing and a lot of people. I also feel like everyone was trying to fight me this night. But nobody else in the crew recollects it so it’s probably just the Scorpio in me talking. Anyways the night wrapped up at Waffle House and it wouldn’t be Atlanta if it didn’t end there. I’m sad because there is a Waffle House in Atlanta from my visit Summer 2015 that I have Touchtunes credits on. Salty. Score: 9/10

Saturday: February 4th.

We woke up mad early this day. Actually we woke up mad early every day. I’m used to going on trips with friends and having to blast my bluetooth speaker to get everyone in line so festivities can begin so this was a nice change up. Saturday started off at Top Golf which I wasn’t mad about at all. Place is mad dope, and I schooled the crew in the second game, but no one will ever know it because Amber deleted the results due to her saltiness. Not that much to say about this morning. Well everyone was recollecting on all the funny shit I did the night before, typical for me. Weak mimosas at Top Golf as well 2/10 don’t recommend. After a couple rounds we ended up heading to some game bar. Lots of board games and stuff, IDK, they had these old pictures on their menus from their opening. Looked like white supremacy to me so I made sure not to spend much money in there. After a couple margaritas I was ready to go. We ended up leaving there and now it was time for some much needed re-cap time. It was time to recharge, everyone was running low from Friday. But night fall was quickly approaching and we all know I come alive in the fallnight time. A nap was not in the equation for me. It never is. I’d love to be one of those people who can day drink and then nap and everything be Gucci for the night. But no, those people are quitters. You sleep and you lose all your fun, buzz, and pep for the night. You might as well call it a night when you get to this point. Lucky for me I had options. One of my day 1’s going on 10 years also lives in Atlanta. Honestly if I lived in a city with all my best friends I would no longer have a liver or money ever. So it was now time for some dinner. This was going to act as my nap. My guy likes to think he’s some sort of food connoisseur so he just had to pick the spot. Ends up taking me to a Korean Taco spot. I was skeptical at first because taco screams Mexican and we all know Mexican is trash but I rolled with it. I know he’s gonna read this and I just want to remind AJ that the shrimp tacos were littier than the others and the special sauce is a white sauce rip-off. It was good to sit down and discuss life with a brother. Very important and very necessary. Fast forwarding to later, we get back to Amber’s apartment and of course her nap has drained her all the way like I knew it would. Whatever, the rest of us were ready to pregame, well I should say they were. Guess what happened? Another bottle of captain. And was it finished? Hell yeah. This night we ended up on Peters Street and the snapchats were mad lit but the bar didn’t have grey goose and they had surcharges. Nigga bye. This night ended with me giving $20 dollars to a bum and getting prayed over. No questions please. I did what I did. Score: 6/10 and the tacos got 4 of them points.

Sunday: Apocalypse

This was the most lit day of the trip I think. Finally got to make my way to Little Five Points so I was gonna be hype regardless. We started the day at Corner Tavern and paid $13.50 for bottomless mimosas. We had so many carafes of mimosas that I lost count, but I know it was lit. We had to escort Amber out of the bar and Teddy drove later apparently. So we have this Fiona from Shameless doppelganger serving us. I made sure to tell her that she looked like Fiona for like 3 hours. I had the best spicy cheese grits at this spot. It always humbles me to come back to the south and get spicy food. Florida don’t know shit about spicy so I be shook. Anyways after Amber tapped out Teddy and I ended up befriending a majestic looking girl who ended up being a DJ. We talked about my new found love for Vinyls and everything from classics to record cleaning. She put me on to a record store in the neighborhood that I just had to pluck around. Mind you I’m drunk as fuck at this point. I made some dope vinyl purchases and I wish I could remember a little bit more about the trip but wow…legit record stores are a gem. I ended up leaving the store with a few classics in my opinion. My takeaway from that day would be is that my classic may not be your classic and thats okay. The rest of Sunday was hell. Ended up at a super bowl party at the same place we pregamed Friday, and while it was all shits and giggles for the first few quarters, all hell broke loose. Not to mention I passed out somewhere between Gaga performing a Beyonce-less Telephone and Poker Face. I woke up to a dismay that our fucking lead was slipping away. I was sick to see that there would be no lituation to follow. Score: 8.25 and the .25 is for the 25 point lead we had. But anyways fuck the pats and anyone who love em.

It was so gloomy riding to the airport Monday morning. Like the energy had completely been evaporated from the city. Getting back to Florida was something that I did not want to do, but money has to be made. After spending that shit all weekend, it was time to get it right back. More time for family and friends all 2017. I stand by that and I’m definitely getting the trips going heavy this year. To the city of Atlanta I love you. To Amber, Teddy, AJ, Kesha, and all the new friends this weekend when am I coming back?

Just cause you caught us in the Super Bowl don’t mean you’ll cash us ousside. How bow dah?

Yours Truly,




I never had the option to ignore things that didn’t affect me.

I’m not surprised about what is happening in this country. I haven’t been shocked by what happens here in a very long time. I never turn on the news and say wow anymore. When did it become second nature to see another soul lost, or another creed of people blantantly disrespected? I’ve lost the ability to grasp commotion.

I’m praying for solidarity. Working with people who elected this official is not easy for me to grasp. There are people, friends even who ignored the facts to keep their privilege in tact. I’ve never been blessed with the option to not see color. I’ve never been blessed with the option to ignore things as they didn’t affect me. I’ve never been blessed with the option to be ignorant.

I am constantly at a loss for words.

I don’t have much to say, but I appreciate Black Grad Life for being a vessel for me to cultivate my ideas. A way for me to clear my mind when I’m feeling burdened. A friend that auto saves my vent sessions. I won’t hold you any longer, but I’ll leave you with a piece from me. Until Next Time.

You don’t see color

As they turn them away from the only homes they’ve known

You go blind and get ready to troll

As they fall to their knees and feel it to their bones

You debate politics and deny your role

You don’t see color 

As they cry for equality and love from you

You look for excuses and point to reports

As they see the racism and shout with a boo

You get excited for someone to deport

You don’t see color

As they plead that this is the land of the free

You tell them that lives matter, specifically all

As they struggle to live in this world with glee

You clap and cheer at the thoughts of a wall

You don’t see color

As they explain to you that this country is a melting pot

You build pipelines and ignore the needs in Flint

As they hustle to be the best just to get one spot

You ignore the sinking ship as it doesn’t affect your descent

You don’t see color.

The Pregame.

So last week I promised a short something. My word is bond so below I bring you the intro to “The Pregame”, a twisted story that I came up with. The story follows a drunken owner of a bar who himself as well as his employees take part in killings after hours. I hope you enjoy, and please send me some feedback on whether or not you guys want more. Today was the Women’s March across the nation. I have loved seeing all of the solidarity across social media platforms today. But, looking at the statistics 1 out of every 2 white women submitted a ballot for Trump this past November. I find it weird that today they can play solidarity when they weren’t there when we needed them on election day. The future of this country was in their hands if they had just shown up for what is right. It is not up to us to reach out to the majority to help them unlearn the horrible ways and thinking of the past. It is up to them to reach out to their parents, sorority sisters, cousins, whoever on forward thinking and how they can help moving forward and repair damage that has been done. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. But anyways…I just had to say my peace about it.

The Pregame.

Buzz Buzz…..buzz….BUZZ….BUZZ. Jet sloppily knocked his phone off of the night stand. It hit the floor with a small thud. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and scurried to pick up the half empty bottle of Jack Daniels. He sat it down and picked up his disturbed phone. The keg is tapped – Rose. Jet quickly hopped up and put two legs into his jeans that had been discarded half way across the room. He grabbed a black long sleeve shirt from his closet and started out the door. Halfway out the door, Jet leaned back in to stare at himself in the mirror. His eyes were as dark as midnight, and he looked like he had not seen sleep in days. He smacked himself on the face a few times and proceeded to the car. Jet was headed to his bar. He sat at the red light on the corner of 9th & Long and looked over to the bright sign, it read The Pregame. Jet parked his car near the back and proceeded around front to the entrance. “Looking like yesterday’s milk boss.” Lucas, the bouncer joked from a dark corner. “To you Lucas, to you. Did Rose get the keg situated?” Jet shot back swiftly. “Haven’t heard a word sir, she’s in the back room.” Lucas answered with uncertainty. Jet quickly shot through the doors of the bar and glanced around. A group of college kids taking shots at the bar took a minute to acknowledge his appearance. A couple arguing in the back corner took a break to get a glimpse of who had just entered. Many eyes glanced over from the dance floor. The bartenders themselves slowed down a bit in preparation of their drinks. Jet slid through The Pregame with presence and up to the side of the bar. “Dean, is the keg still tapped?” Jet questioned his lead bartender. “Haven’t heard a word sir.” Dean shot strictly. Jet smiled and went behind the bar to grab a corona. He slowly exited to the kitchen and made sure the door shut behind him. The kitchen crew halted what they were doing as they acknowledged their boss. Jet nodded and threw up a strong fist for a hello. He went off into his side office and shut the door. After checking the room for cameras of any kind or any potential eyes, he walked over to the far wall and knocked three times. Jet then led with his shoulder to reveal a compartment door in the wall. He walked through and shut it after all was clear and proceeded down the steps. “Why is this taking so long…where the fuck is he…I’m sick of” Rose mumbled as she was interrupted. “So the keg is still tapped.” Jet laughed. Rose shot him a look that could kill. “JET, I’ve been in here panicking for almost two hours where have you been?” Rose cried while tying a knot in a black garbage bag. “I had prior engagements, furthermore it is 12:30, why is there still a party upstairs?” Jet questioned. “Well it is a bar Jet!” Rose exclaimed while getting on her knees to get the garbage together. “It’s The Pregame, we pride ourselves on being closed by Midnight to deal with….keg mishaps.” Jet circled the room. “Well why is it always on me to deal with the keg mishaps? I don’t know if I can continue to do this.” Rose struggled. She hoisted the bag up on to the metal counter top. Jet laughed. “I told you Rose you always handle the keg because you’re the only one who knows how I like my kegs.” Rose let off a half ass smirk. A couple of creaks came from up the steps. Jet slid up them slowly to make sure they weren’t being eavesdropped on. He came back down abruptly. “We gotta wrap this up and get all of these folks out of the bar.” “Show her to me.” Jet demanded. A look of panic grimaced over Rose’s pale face. She struggled to get the knot out of the garbage bag that she had so intricately constructed. “Oh what the hell.” Jet shot. He strolled over to the bag while simultaneously whipping out a pocket knife from his back pocket. Jet made a small incision into the bag and ripped it open. “Guess you really had fun with this one.” Jet smiled. He went underneath the counter to grab a pair of gloves. After throwing them on he rummaged through the garbage bag. With one full swoop he abstracted a head from a huge black bag of human body limbs. Jet looked over his shoulder with a smirk, “That’s her alright and where is her badge? Gun…squad car?” “No…umm no squad car caught her on foot patrol.” Rose said softly. She reached into her back pocket and threw an Avenue County police badge onto the counter top. “The gun is in the river.” Rose said with punctuality. Jet nodded with approval and then turned back to look at the head he had just pulled out of the bag. “Morgan Brooks….You know Rose, she shot 3 civilians last year…killed 2.” Jet spoke coldly. Rose glanced down at her shoes. “Get rid of her.” He demanded. “But..Jet, I thought..” Rose started. “Nah you know what, we’ll get the new shits to help you, follow me.” Jet started. “But what about all of this?” Rose wondered. “Leave all this shit right here, if anyone happens upon it, it’s their problem.” Jet chuckled. The two climbed the stairs back into Jet’s side office. They both cleaned up a bit before heading into the kitchen. “Wrap everything up in here Jefe, it’s way past closing time.” Jet interjected. His main chef Patrick nodded in agreeance. “Rose, make sure the kitchen crew gets outta here alright.” He said as he entered the bar. He looked around as most of the people had cleared out. “Sir, I tried to get everyone out by midnight, but Rose was gone and she said not to bother you so I..” Dean pleaded. Jet smiled as he walked over to remaining patrons asking them to exit the bar. As people exited Jet started to lock the doors. “Lucas get your big ass in here.” Jet shot as he waited for Lucas to scurry through the doors. Lucas and Jet finished locking the place up. Lucas started to tidy the bar a little before Jet started. “Can everyone hear me okay?” Jet spoke firmly. Nods from the bartenders and Lucas all came simultaneously. Jet kicked over a chair. “I said can everybody fucking hear me okay.” Jet shouted. A few of the lady bartenders jumped as the crew all together said yes sir in unison. “Can someone tell me what’s special about The Pregame?” Jet questioned. “We close at midnight sir in accordance with the keg being tapped.” Dean cleared his throat. “Anybody besides Dean know why it’s crucial we don’t have a tapped keg?” Jet paced. “Probably so we can keep serving beer.” Kate giggled. Jet mocked her giggle. “It’s no secret what goes on in this bar ladies and gentlemen. Well its a secret within us and I’d like to keep it that way.” Jet spoke sternly. “Kate, I’d like you to be on keg duty next week.” He announced. Kate looked as if she had just seen a ghost. She whispered to Dean, “I’ve never…you know”. “Me neither..but..I can help you.” Dean shook. “No you know what…I think I’ll handle my own fucking keg tapping next week.” Jet shot back loudly. “Do you know how dangerous it is to have drunk assholes in here past midnight when we’re cleaning up downstairs? Jet questioned. “You know what, all of you go downstairs and help Rose with cleanup.” He demanded. “If I find out any of you didn’t help, I’ll have you in prison by next Thursday.” Jet spoke with confidence. He turned back over the chair he had kicked and walked out of the bar, around the back, and hopped into his car. Jet drove back home in silence once again. He was in the door for five minutes before his phone started buzzing. “What the fuck do you want now Rose?” Jet said. “Jet! She had a phone! In her pocket. I didn’t get rid of it.” Rose cried. Jet shook his head and started to panic. “Listen, shut the phone off right now and drive it to the address I’m going to text you.” He interjected. “Okay!” Rose cried. Jet hung up the phone and flung his hands up over his head. He paced around for a bit and punched a hole in his living room wall. 416 Turnip Rd. He sent the text to Rose and after seeing it was delivered, he erased their thread convo in his phone. Jet quickly dialed up Lucas. “I need you to get rid of the stash” He calmly stated. “I’ve got you.” Lucas quickly replied. Jet hung up the phone and sunk into a hole between his couches.

14 Hours Later

“And you’re sure she never came home last night, wasn’t staying at a friends?” Detective Med asked. “I’m positive Med, there’s no where else she could have been. I got onto find my iPhone on her iPad. Looks like after her patrol she headed over to the bars on the upper east side.” Mr. Brooks spoke with assurance. “There’s a lot of bars on that strip Mr. Brooks, what’s the address and where does it place her now?” Detective Med questioned. “As of now there is no location, but last night it was uhhh…706 Long Street.” They both plugged in the address simultaneously into their phones.

“The Pregame.” They both looked at each other.