These griots...out'chere...making mofos do cartwheels trying to catch triple entendres and ish, Millenials and under. I couldn't name a song - Cept like a feature oF only one of'em...but telling ya...he's not going to stop...until he's...done.

Y'all gone learn to leave real writerhead alone.


I had to look it up because he was following me around, doing it everytime I sat down until I'd burst out laughing.

To be fair...he was present when my Anima was basking in being fn ridiculous this morning on the topic of tiger tongues, imagining stubble.