Who gets fired on their day off?
There are seven days in a week, but yuh dun kno that the sexiest day is Friday, because whenever she shows her face, you know that her girlfriend Saturday is not too far behind her, and those two always make for a nice threesome. Don't get me wrong now, Sunday is cute, but my only problem with her is that she always brings that guy Monday with her, so me and her caan really par too hard.
Miami, FL, 12/4/09 – Friday and I had once again decided to meet for our weekly rendezvous. Before we went out, I went to her house, and we watched Friday, the movie, naturally, and right when Smokey asked Craig, "Who gets fired on their day off?" I yawned and tried to slip my hand around Friday's shoulder, but she wasn't having it, and shoved my arm away. Doesn't she know that resistance is futile?
After the movie, we headed out to SPEAK @ INNER LOOK for some diverse open mic action, with my breddren Rob Lee, who's been eyeballing my girl Friday, but it's all good though. For those who don't know, SPEAK @ INNER LOOK is one of those diamonds in the rough, a spot for the artistically inclined to share their guilty pleasures, so to speak, on any given Friday night. A good place off the beaten path, to hear some good spoken word and music. Tonight's feature, the main act for the night, is George Tandy Jr. Next week, I will be the "main feature," so I figured I would bring my girl Friday out, and tek in some vibes before my night.
As always, the vibe was nice. The poetry was inspiring and the music was invigorating, you like those words, don't you, go ahead, admit it, don't worry, I won't tell a soul.
Even Friday was getting into it, she was snapping her fingers and everything, like she was on the set of "Love Jones." Rob was his usual irreverent–host–type self. See, SPEAK is like a weird mix of Love Jones, Showtime at the Apollo, VH1 Storytellers, MTV Unplugged, Oprah, with a hint of Jerry Springer. I'm not even going to get in to details, you just have to go for yourself, to see what I mean (Rob, you can mail me the check later).
Needless to say, George Tandy's set was straight fire, wicked indeed, that bredda can play, and the female vocalist that accompanied him, (remember, I have a bad memory, so I forget her name) she was definitely on point. Tandy is like Alicia Keys' ex–boyfriend, or Nina Simone's son, or maybe he's like Ray Charles' brother, or John Legend's cousin, in other words, he does the whole vocal/piano thing well.
After the show, Friday and I left the premises, and met up with her homegirl Saturday, and that's when the night got interesting, but I'm a gentleman, so it's "FIN" for my people in Paris, and "THE END" for everybody else, the "whole a unu too fas'."
Miami, FL, 12/4/09 – Friday and I had once again decided to meet for our weekly rendezvous. Before we went out, I went to her house, and we watched Friday, the movie, naturally, and right when Smokey asked Craig, "Who gets fired on their day off?" I yawned and tried to slip my hand around Friday's shoulder, but she wasn't having it, and shoved my arm away. Doesn't she know that resistance is futile?
After the movie, we headed out to SPEAK @ INNER LOOK for some diverse open mic action, with my breddren Rob Lee, who's been eyeballing my girl Friday, but it's all good though. For those who don't know, SPEAK @ INNER LOOK is one of those diamonds in the rough, a spot for the artistically inclined to share their guilty pleasures, so to speak, on any given Friday night. A good place off the beaten path, to hear some good spoken word and music. Tonight's feature, the main act for the night, is George Tandy Jr. Next week, I will be the "main feature," so I figured I would bring my girl Friday out, and tek in some vibes before my night.
As always, the vibe was nice. The poetry was inspiring and the music was invigorating, you like those words, don't you, go ahead, admit it, don't worry, I won't tell a soul.
Even Friday was getting into it, she was snapping her fingers and everything, like she was on the set of "Love Jones." Rob was his usual irreverent–host–type self. See, SPEAK is like a weird mix of Love Jones, Showtime at the Apollo, VH1 Storytellers, MTV Unplugged, Oprah, with a hint of Jerry Springer. I'm not even going to get in to details, you just have to go for yourself, to see what I mean (Rob, you can mail me the check later).
Needless to say, George Tandy's set was straight fire, wicked indeed, that bredda can play, and the female vocalist that accompanied him, (remember, I have a bad memory, so I forget her name) she was definitely on point. Tandy is like Alicia Keys' ex–boyfriend, or Nina Simone's son, or maybe he's like Ray Charles' brother, or John Legend's cousin, in other words, he does the whole vocal/piano thing well.
After the show, Friday and I left the premises, and met up with her homegirl Saturday, and that's when the night got interesting, but I'm a gentleman, so it's "FIN" for my people in Paris, and "THE END" for everybody else, the "whole a unu too fas'."
posted by Coppa Stone at
8:23 AM
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