Quelqu'un Obtient Ce Chien Un Museau

It is the last few days of summer vacation and I am relaxin and chillin in SoCal. I have indulged myself in Roscoe’s Chicken & Waffles and M&M Soul Food as well as Jerry’s Famous Deli. I have pretty much sat around for the past few days listening to Marc Antoine's Modern Times and watching episodes of Dead Like Me. I finally purchased the second season of that – too bad that show was cancelled. I am anxiously awaiting the big 21 and being able to officially be grown. OFFICIALLY! There have been many instances where I have come across as young to many people. Store clerks, bank tellers, and pretty much anyone who feels they have a place in this world. I have had to pull out my California Identification on numerous occasions at record stores because they don’t want to sell me the Parental Advisory cds. I think it’s quite amusing because they are wowed @ my oldness when I show them my ID; as if I look 12. Since I’ve been here, I have grown accustomed to waking up to the loud barking of my next-door neighbor’s dog. It is quite annoying to hear woof woofs @ 5 in the morning especially when I am trying to continue enjoying Zzzzz Land. I have been up everyday since I’ve been here at about seven in the morning. Luckily, I’ve been able to get enough coffee in my system to get me going, otherwise I would have politely told my neighbor to put a muzzle on that mutt. My mother tells me that there was a lady who lived next door to my grandmother in St. Louis, who poisoned a dog for barking non-stop. Of course, no one can prove that the lady did the poisoning. I mean what kind of person puts lethal venom in a bowl of Alpo or Ralston Parina dog food. That’s not kosher. I am not suggesting or even thinking about poisoning my next door neighbor’s dog – but I am thinking about taking a trip to Petsmart and purchasing a muzzle because I have yet to get my usual 9 hours of sleep. What? Nine hours is that GUUUUDDDD sleep. It’s that special sleep. The kind where you wake up and you are completely fresh and can function and carry out your day-to-day duties of eating and doing nothing. A friend of mine suggested I down a bottle of Malibu rum on my birthday. I don’t see that happening unless I stop by Tic Toc on Rhode Island Avenue and purchase me one. Of course, that would ruin my sober streak, but 21 is a big thing considering many, many Black males do not live to see their twenty-first bday especially in LA and for them I might pour out a lil liquor and give a toast to ALL (a-l-l that’s all) my dead homies. That is not meant to sound funny or humorous although it came out wrong.