I was born and raised in West Philadelphia. I spent most of my time
around home, relaxing, chilling with friends, occasionally playing
some basketball at the playground nearby. I kept to myself. It was
a nice life. That all changed after I got involved with some
violent thugs, which led to me getting jumped and beaten. The fight
might not have been anything major, but it was enough to cause my
single mother to fear for my life. She sent me away to live with my
aunt and uncle in one of the most affluent neighborhoods in all of
Southern California. I'm terrified of flying, so I used all my
savings taking the entire journey by taxicab, a very long drive. It
was evening when I arrived, around 7 or 8 o'clock p.m. The setting
was so fancy as to be described as regal, and finally, I felt like
I am flesh, blood, and bone
What I’m doing with my life
Slowly, inevitably becoming my father, fashion sense and all.
Bootlegging movies. Lancing at windmills. Falling ass backwards
into good luck.
I’m really good at
Scrabble, computers, hiding, napping and parallel parking.
The first things people usually notice about me
Nothing. I melt into the night.
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
Books: I think all my favorite authors are dead guys now.
Films: There is no film in this world that is impossible for me to
pirate, and I do that constantly, so I have seen everything.
Seriously, try me.
Music: I hate the fuckin' Eagles.
I like food that I cook, or pretty much anything once it's past 9
The six things I could never do without
You, bebe. It was always you.
I spend a lot of time thinking about
whether or not the universe will cease expanding tonight and start
On a typical Friday night I am
obsessively cleaning my guns.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
Mike Tyson signed my chest at the L.A. airport. He said, "you being
such a bitch, I thought you might have titties." He didn't laugh or
even smile, just walked off... with my heart.
You should message me if
you'd like to grab a beer sometime.