Innocence devoured like a chicken spot snack box

people coming home after corporate share croppin
And fuq flossin, mothers are trying to feed children
But gentrification is kicking them out of their building
A generation of babies born without health care
Families homeless, thrown the fuq off of the welfare
-Immortal Technique, "Harlem Streets"

Oddly enough, this photo gallery is an article in itself and I am not feeling the story that it is telling. But aside from that, the midget and I hung today but the day seem to get longer as it drew to a close. The basketball game was dumb exciting; which means it was very exciting for any slang-challenged people out there.

Sis ended up having to start at the point and did an admirable job. It was her first home game ever in the new gym and the first time a majority of her school had seen her play since her sophomore year during that fatefaul Feb game when she got hurt just before the playoffs. Anyways, her tentativeness was still visible, but she did her thing, hitting two big jumpers early on. But those would be her only baskets for the game (6 points, 4 assists). The game went down to the wire, with the crowd going bananas on a driving layup by one of the Lady Saints with less than 10 seconds left.

As for the banquet, I'd rather let it slip into the recesses of my afterthoughts. It was an obvious success, yet i...ahem...we did not get to see and enjoy much of it. Someone decided the lighting was not his cup of tea and proceeded to let everyone in the building know what was poppin. Headache city. Plus, he kept begging to go the bathroom and would not do anything when we were in there, yet each time we get there, his joint is soaking wet and needed to be changed. The clincher? How about money passed out on some straight coma shT a mere 5 minutes before it all ended. So none of our pictures really came out too well because the ill gasface he kept rocking all night was not a good look. Oh well. I got a nice little recognition award to make up for the vast ounces of drool & snot that found their way onto my shoulders, wrists, and suit jacket. I still love the little fuqer I guess. But if he jumps on my neck to try and wake me up in a few hours, there will be a problem.