keeping up with jones

as much as i'm indifferent about abraham lincoln and his politics - i do admire the man for his hustle. actually, in real life, i admire everyone who has the hustler agenda in tow.

i keep mine in my northface backpack next to my journal and passport.

abraham lincoln had this to say: 'things may come to those who wait - but only things left by those who hustle'

i hustle...today i:

- 11am: meeting with lighting crew

- 1:30pm: meeting with sound engineer

- 2:30pm: audition #1

- 4:00pm: audition #2

-5:00pm: meeting with potential director

- 6:30pm: audition #3

-7:00pm: meeting with choreographer

-7:27pm: blog with a bottle of apple soda in my hand.

i got trey songz's "just gotta make it" on repeat.

you all need to listen to lyrics.

something about me i bet you didn't know:

at least once a week i have a dream that someone is trying to kill me, and they are usually successful in their attempt. but once they shoot me (usually shooting) and i die, i keep thinking 'this is just your dream' and i get up full of holes, and a little weaker than before - but still alive.

when i wake up, though, i'm kinda nervous at first...but then great things begin happening, and i take the dream as a sign.

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but on some other shxt...

since posting the blog with the shxtty underwear - i've been in the market to buy some new 'man panties.' (yes i said man panties - grow up asxholes)

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well:

i think these may not be for men - but i am not sure yet.

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and:

i am not sure what to think and what that little nub section is for. perhaps awkward ball men.

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but:

i will stick to whatever will get me in all the hood clubs in all the ghettos across america.

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and @amandasophia just text me talking about a chocolate fountain at the restaurant she went to for lunch - and i'm sitting here looking at an empty box of fruit roll-ups and a parking lot through my window trying to figure out if i feel like walking to the dang ol' store.

who knows...

but until then, my friends...hustle!

and remember:

hustle so hard that the only jobs left are the ones you don't want!

peace

a few years back during homecoming at the great bethune cookman college founded by dr. mary mcleod bethune - i ran into an old flame (an "old piece" if you will)

i often refer to her as "the whore that turned me into a cold-hearted heart thief" but for now we will simply call her "an old flame."

at this homcoming's "alumni ball" we met on the dance floor and did a little jig, cut a rug, and bumped booties a few times. i had seagram's vodka rushing through the veins with a mix of blood thinning medication and probably a couple of shots of tequila thanks to my line brother who we usually find in a dark corner sipping on a bottle of cyclone.

freddie jackson comes on:

ROCK ME TONIGHT FOR OLD TIMES SAKE

fxck fxck fxck!!!