Dear Mr. Joe DC.

Dear Mr. Joe DC.

In your Nike boots, with your North Face on…..
I know you put mumbo sauce on your eggs. You’re just that DC. That’s how you roll.

Your endless sicin of the shit that occurs around you.

Your varying moods, from boosted to blown when your bun has carried you. She is Ji Phat tho…. Not that you’re pressed or anything but perhaps yall can work it out.

Or perhaps she will jone on you and you will kirk out.

Avoid confrontation, Joe DC. She do be rockin them short ass skirts. A Bamma might try and roll up on her and you might have to still some youngin in his Jaw.

But I know that tomorrow, you and she will smoke a jack and spend time lunchin out over it and it will be Ok, Joe DC.

With your everlasting love of GoGo, Raheem Devaughn, Wale and Trey Songz.

With your hatred of Bammas. Your participation in the DC Carnival, and Howard homecoming regardless of whether you ever attended college or not.

You die hard Redskins fan, you! You hater of the Cowgirls!

I salute you, Joe DC.
I salute you in all that is holy in the name of "Taxation without Representation".
Get at me, Slim.

Comments

Anonymous said…
dying laughing

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