• 28Jul
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My Man Morgan. 18 years old and clean outta Humboldt County, CALIFORNICATE~IA (lol). Cool azz cat, doesn’t come off as 18 and knows his music… maybe thats how we initially linked seated next to one another by chance at Universal. I working, he interning.

We chattin’, we rappin’, shukin’ n’ jivin’. Possibly a small biz venture on the wire, selling digital marketing packages to indie artists. Smart kid. Reminds me of my cousin Jared greatly. If you know Jared and his caribbean posture, then thats plenty said. If you don’t, then you can infer its a compliment.

SO you say… whats up with the picture Pre? Well… just a few hours ago we were kickin’ it here by the apt in Newark. As usual, nothing out the ordinary.. music, spliffs, conversations… standard shit. Well it was getting late, we hadn’t ate so I grabbed a pizza. Wasn’t tasty but did the job.

10 minutes later… I just hear a crash… and slowly watch my Humboldt homey, tower over in slow motion, spilling onto the floor in a not-so-comfortable position. He had passed out… but for all of 90 secs… all kinds of shit was running through my head. My parental, or uncle-like brain processes kicked in and I felt super guilty like I could have prevented it. The worst part was Morgan chipped his tooth – took it like Champ – but nonetheless a bruised ego. I immediately likened the new grin to an early Nas and current Fab. I even told em a story about another person we both know, who did the exact same thing, under the exact same circumstances… and knocked out an entire tooth.

Oh man. It was an interesting 3 minutes, suspended in slow-mo like The Matrix, still running through my head.

My bad kid. I had you up here spliffin’ with King Ras and that fanta leaf threw you a curve!

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