“Headed for Indiana stabbin women like the phantom.” (Random Tribute: Gibbs’s face)


GIBBS HAS A SAD LOOKIN FACE. – me to my brother via text (in line at Ikea today, daydreaming as usual)

HE DOES. MUST BE THAT RUSTBELT FLOW. – my brother, number 1 brother in the world. He’s just a good dude, even-tempered, Witty with the texts, obviously. Might not mean much to you but to me exchanges like this are everything.


My ears and I spend our time bouncing from rapper to rapper, breakin hearts, collecting mixtapes. I’m loyal but I also need sweet love (good songs). I’d like always to be swimming in sweet love (good songs) – witty rhymes, bouncy cadence, some kind of delivery that stays with me, thick bass that makes my brain fuzzy and happy and cloudy while I’m at work. It occurs to me that from time to time on this blog I come across as groupie-ish for MCs, I guess because people think that someone with long hair and hips and breasts that are unusually large for a skinny frame cannot appreciate the skill it takes to just tell a really good story and separate that appreciation from wanting to undress for the storyteller. A good story does make me want to undress but that doesn’t mean I’m going to offer myself to Erick Sermon. breath control, delivery,

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