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Dear Friends of Jano,
NIGGA ITS HOT!!! Like Disrespectful as fuck hot. Oppressively hot. Do I even need this skin hot. Put Deodorant on your genitals hot. Field Nigga slave empathy hot.I’ll def take this over winters frigid ways but holy fuck, is it this heat wave that necessary for the culture?
This issue is coming later than usual this month because honestly I didn’t feel like typing. I didn’t. Not to say that I haven’t typed anything this month, but it wasn’t anything lengthy. Ya know nice little blurbs, nothing more.
Anyway here we are finally.
So back in the Days of the Dead issue, I said that the initial shoot I was going to talk about had to be delayed because my coon college friend didn’t have one of his websites ready. Well it’s ready now and I can commence talking shit about him, and the photoshoot of that April Saturday.
But Jano didn’t you say you are friends?
Spoiler Alert, you are right. But every since I’ve met this nigga back in my 2nd semester during Spring Semester 2003 at UNCG, he has talked more shit than I thought humanly possible. If I had a Myspace style friend ranking of people who talked shit, he would be in the top 10. So I’m allowed to talk about this big nostril, cone headed, Vegeta Bashing, shit talking, blasting rappers that irk your soul (Damn Gucci Mane), detritus, diseased country bama, scum of the earth. This nigga would have you feeling like you may wanna follow in Hannah Bakers footsteps.
But despite that, he is a very gifted negro when it comes to the trombone.
Damn Jano, are you satiated yet?
Right now I am.
At any rate, My homeboy Brain called me one day and asked me could I do a photoshoot for him for his new music website. Look at Niggas following their true passions in life, even though they are exuding scum essence, YASSSS.
Sorry, not sorry.
I gave him a price, he agreed and we picked a Saturday that worked with our schedules. Legit 2nd photoshoot I got paid for last year, sadly it was also the last but whatever I could finally put some toward my tattoo fund.
So fucking close now. So…fucking….close….
I drove to Greensboro hoping that it doesn’t pour down rain anytime soon. It was cloudy as fuck as I was driving up there. Legit it was more shady than anything that has ever came out of his mouth in all the years I’ve known him.
Damn there I go again. I promise me and this nigga are actually Kool. On God.
I get to his place and we head to a park that I legit never went to or heard of any of the time I lived in Greensboro from 2002 to 2010. We arrive and we see all these white kids dressed up.
What white nonsense is this?
Then it hit us its Prom Season, OOOOOOOh that shit. But its legit pretty crowded, so we walk to where little white children are sparse to none. Luckily it was a big park. He tells me he has never modeled before, I tell him to play his trombone to relax and honestly to pretend I’m not there. It honestly went well, considering I wasn’t familiar with this park at all and he never modeled a day in his scummy puss filled soul life.
Everything was good until it started pouring down raining, and that far distance we walked to get away from a bunch of acne faced teenagers we had to run to get back to his car. You ever see 2 people run in a torrential downpour, hoping not to ruin their equipment, and not slip and bust their ass?
It is probably funny as shit watching, but being in said downpour nope not so much. No such fun exist.
Anyway, the rest of the day involved us going to meet up with some of our friends at some place. I legit promise every white boy at the bar my friends and I ended up at looked like they idolized Brock Turner and had rape intentions. I don’t apologize for that shit, I don’t. If you are mad you probably ain’t shit and think that violating ass cunt was justified, kill yourself creepy bastards.
To see some of the images that occurred before we got rained out, go here. And if you need a trombone or piano player, or a music lesson check out his website. And if you need to purchase an instrument check out his new store site as well.
See this nigga has some value in life after all.
Moral of the Story. Be careful of how much shit you talk to your friends because one day you could be exposed for filth on said friends website.
There is probably another lesson about following your dreams and passions, but eh not today.
Anyway I’m all typed out for the month. I’m gonna go play Final Fantasy 7 until next time.Damn Cloud, your backstory is tragic as fuck.