I was horrible at art in school.
The worst part was having to keep a sketchbook, because when you can’t draw well, an 8×11 white sheet of paper is VERY intimidating. I was the type of kid that drew with a ruler. So, I got fed up one day and paid my friend’s little brother $2 (my fries and gravy money) to do my sketchbook for me.
I got 55%. Why? Well, he was asian, and my teacher didn’t believe a west indian could be that interested in anime to perfect the art of drawing spikey hair on an asian midget.
PS – Don’t front; that’s a catchy tune, damn it.
I was on the way to a comedy club, passed a music store, and heard that song playing. Now, we men are supposed to act like alpha males 24/7. We’re supposed to be dominant, win arguments, pay the check, and most of all, not listen to girly club music. We’re supposed to listen to Tupac and Biggie and DMX.
But I couldn’t help it. I passed the song in mid-chorus, synth hits sending iridescent bubbles of love into my soul, and stopped. I looked around to see if I recognized anyone, pretended to seek shelter in the doorway, opened up a notepad on my iPhone, and started typing out the lyrics (I could only catch bits and pieces):
Such a good song! I have a slightly disgusted/angry look when I love a song…do you guys have that face too?