Images via Mohawk General Store
Yo, fam, you better buy this Ikat Robe from Haversack lickety-split. Snatch the matching pants and overshirt (not pictured) while you’re at it. This joint is made of 100% linen and it’s ill. Remember when people said “ill” all the time? For that matter, remember when people said “lickety-split” all the time? I’m not sure when that was, but I’m pretty sure there was indeed a time. I bet we’ll look back on this current time as the time when people said “AM DEAD” all the time. I’m watching this commercial with a talking dog in it and I totally lost my train of thought. Get ready for the silver medal version of this post, because I’m pretty sure the shit I just forgot was pure gold (Au, if you’re nasty). Gold, by the way, has a gnarly backstory. It involves supernova nucleosynthesis and some other ill shit. Born from stars and transmitted to our lonely rock by the bombardment of asteroids, gold traveled a long fucking way to end up on that clunky ass class ring you wear. J’accuse, dear reader. But please know that I hate the sin, not the sinner. Sometimes the sinner too. I have to be honest; that’s part of the social contract between blogger and bloggee. Now, “bloggee” may not be a real word, but I assure you that this social contract is very real and my commitment to it is ironclad. You break it, you incur the wrath. What wrath? Good question. Answer: all the wrath. Fire and brimstone and whatnot. Hot flames. Burnt. Don’t break the contract. I want some cajun blackened chicken now. I’m easily distracted. What were we talking about? Gold? What about Eric B. & Rakim Gold? What about City Slickers II: The Legend of Curly’s Gold? What about cooking until golden brown? Mmmmm, this gold is so tasty. AM NOT DEAD -RB
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