jam jarred

I love my white peeps. Sometimes they crack me up. Sometimes they'll piss me off. And all too often, they'll surprise me.

It was never a set plan, but it dawned upon me that the white peeps I hang out with can ALL hold their own on a dance floor. Or at least not make a complete tit of themselves and those around them. Well, except for Damagelina, word has it. I have had the fortune of never seeing her on a dance floor. Word has it.

Funky how that shit happens. I made a slight comment, not even a critisism, of one of my white mate's moves, and I got challenged to a dance off! 'You Got Served' style. Can you believe it? She can do her thing on the dance floor, but damn...

I am re-assessing this whole weekend thing. Two day hangovers, being phoned at 3 am to pick people up, sleeping through weekend days, lethargic mondays... some change is needed. Maybe I don't have the stamina anymore, or I'm doing it wrong. I have to figure something out.

My state of health at the moment is at a low ebb. Last weekend was the same kind of vibe, and the timing couldn't have been worse. December is right around the corner, I need to get my shit together. Even my game is taking a hit. I was a shite wingman, and probably cost someone some action.

I have to call a truce with the universe or something, whatever I have to do.