I don’t sport a purse. It’s more like a repository of random ish…always in a ridiculously over-sized bag. Let’s explore, shall we?Sock: I pimp, I stunt, I only wear my white sock once. Like I said: random repository. Call me grimey…call me ghetto…but this was really in my bag; not gonna front about it. I keep it funky. Don’t know how it got there, don’t know why. Shoot, maybe it’s not even mine. How does a girl really end up with one sock in her bag you ask? Bacardi yall...Bacardi.
Personal Archive Journal: So Nat claims A.D.D., I claim O.C.D. This little black book helps me keep track of my vinyl. The gets. The gots. Completely comes in handy when digging.
Jewelry a.k.a. Jurry: Some realin’, some fakin’. Alright, mostly fakin’. Regardless, blang is essential to a honey’s bag. And yes, those ARE Young MC record sleeve earrings. Start jockin’.
Superglue: Definitely can’t be throwing up the “B” with broke nails. Superglue is a must. (I feel you Des. The spots with the illest designs always get sheisty on their glue game).
Inspirational Quotes: Yes, I just went there. They’re a little shmoozy, but they make a broad feel good in Los Scandalous. You gotta be lookin’ right on the outside just as much as you do on the inside.
MAC Makeup: Thankyou MAC. I might be faded as a muhfucka, but you keep my face lookin’ fresh.
Celly: Connections, connections. Usually the screen is my man, Michael…Thriller album cover. However, after last night’s happenings, Michael is m.i.a. and my phone is now essentially a digital address book. (It straight fell in the toilet…don’t ask).
Cd: Fucka Ipod, Fucka MP3.Whatchu know ‘bout the 20th Anniversary Eric B. and Rakim though!?!?
