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I love how Bmore club takes ahold of skinny peoples waist! They start gyrating uncontrollably, shaking imaginary asses and other missing ingredients for making grinding worth while. Just messing, skin doesn’t need fat under it to feel good I suppose.

So though I’ve had less than hype words to spill over the whole Bmore club thing in the past, fuck, I’ve matured and get it now. After seeing Claire Hux outside of Baltimore, I realized it’s not necessarily the offensive lyrics that irk me…I just feel when you take the ghetto out of Bmore club what you really have is just a bunch of skinny people doing shit.  

***side note…we’re moving on up, by the end of the week we’ll unfold part of the master plan so come back Thursday, Friday, etc…and not only was this post inspired by Claire Hux, this tee, please note…they were playing digable planets and shit :



Baltimore does bipolar like no other rich kid I know. The ebbs and flows are perfect and will be amazingly good for when you’re old and you need a convoluted story to share. At the end of every decayed block is the likelyhood of the best time of your life followed by death or in most cases, another seedy block. But if given the choice, there is no other place that I would have rather spent the past 3 days. And for 3 days and 2 & 1/2  nights I wore the same Hips and Hair  t shirt because it always looks fresh.


If I can get some sleep and eventually my hand to stop shaking, I’ll ease into the rest of why Bmore is a must do and a microcosm for the best and worst of times. And if that only makes sense with no sleep…”Saying sorry is for sorry people”(Thanks Daniella for that one)