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Wednesday, May 11, 2011

When you know you've made it.


"Congratulations on your acceptance into the  Featured Columnist Program. You should be proud to know that your Featured Columnist Application set you apart from the rest of the candidate field. After careful consideration, we’ve decided that you’re the person we want to fill our NBA Featured Columnist Position."


Guess what you bum ass niggas, I didn't even fill out an application. That's how you know made it in life, when people tell you they accepted your application but you didn't even apply, they just came to you. What does this mean???? You can find my shit on CBSSports, LA Times, SI and some other spots but that ain't why I'm telling y'all this.
I'm doing this blog today because I'm going to tell you, I'm now in an elite group. Which means that if I've had sex with you in the past 12 months, I probably won't be needing any more from your basic asses. If you've sucked my dick recently, chances are, I don't need you to suck my dick because I'll just get it from more elite people. Kate Middleton's cousins and shit. 


I'm now a Featured Columnist for the 4th largest sports media site in the world. I'm done smoking y'all bum ass weed. From now on I ain't even smoking spliffs, it's straight blunts. From now on I ain't messing around with you swamp rats with flat asses, flat chests and who blow their nose on skype. From now on I ain't drinking bottled water, it's Pellegrino you bitch ass niggas. From now on I ain't shopping at Walmart, I'm shopping at those places where it costs $12 for a piece of boneless chicken breast cause it's organic or some shit. I'm going to buy scented dental floss because I'm part of an elite society. 
To my Victoria Secret model chick who has recently displayed signs of autism, you could go back to the dude who wears sweathered vests. Unless your on the cover of Vogue or Maxim then we ain't talking. To my Italian bird, you could take your 180 degree ass back to your ex. To mouse, you could start dating women on a permanent basis I'm done with you. To CEO wife, you've been replaced. That night we watched under the Tuscan Sun I came to the realization that I needed more in my life than what you've given me. So I'm going straight to the big leagues, soon Diane Lane will be the next CEO Wife. To my facebook friend who talks about making crab callaloo, I don't need that peasant shit anymore. Niggas only eating Caviar and balsamic vinegar and filet mignon.


I'm a featured columnist now and all I don't need none of y'all. I'm only fucking with Royalty and shit. Getting my dick sucked on demand, no more need for social networking in an effort to get laid, I'll just show people how fucking great I am. I'll be eating the $5.50 Banana Boats from the ice cream truck and getting my shoe shined for $9.50 in the downtown core and shit, who needs y'all. 


Fuck I'll pay for this in the morning, peace.

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