My people! Somebody call me and talk me through this final 7 days before I hit 32. Damn! The dirty thirties have set in like truth, family! I guarantee you that this birthday snuck up on your girl like the Hamburglar, but I am continuing to keep it moving...because this rap game needs me. Tell 'em, Hov!
Anyway, since my Lord and I will be celebrating our respective naissances next Monday, I thought that I would let all of you know what I'm really hoping for this holiday season. That's right, everybody: I want a d*ck in a box.*
* It's like somebody gave my boyfriend a microphone and a Color Me Badd suit. Seriously. Ask Bernie. This is precisely the kind of sentiment Doug would lay on me while drinking spiked eggnog and watching holiday porn. I mean, this is the same man who sleepily rolled over and called me "Little Booby Two Shoes" one night. Bless him.