Day 69 | Boston: 7 days to go

Good afternoon Mi Gente. It’s already noon ⏰. Today is Friday, Mi Gente. I know everybody happy because today is the last day of work, so I am happy for you too, even though I don’t work normal hours. I am happy because you happy. Let’s put it like that. I woke up with a smile on my face because I let things off of my chest before I went to bed and that’s wassup. And that’s really what’s up. I recommend you to always let things off your chest before you go to bed so that that way you don’t wake up grumpy.

But… there is still a little bit of things that I need to get off of my chest. 😂

I am very particular with this 5 star shit. I have a page called Kizomba Canada. I am not asking you to give me 5 stars, don’t get me wrong. But if you please, please go ahead and give me 5 stars. But if you don’t have 5 stars to give me, don’t give me any stars. I don’t want 4, I don’t want 3, I don’t want 2, I don’t want 1 star. If you don’t have 5 stars, I don’t want no stars. I only give 5 stars to people because I know ratings are important. Particularly, 4 years ago, to be exact, there is a local DJ, you know, that me and him don’t have no personal ties. We don’t talk to each other, we don’t like each other, we don’t cross paths. And this motherfucker rated me 1 star! I know. 1 star on my page. And you know, then I had to talk to him! Nigga, woah woah woah woah. You never been to my school. You never took a class with me. How the fuck you rating me one star? We not even friends! You never took my services before, how you gonna rate me? He was like, “the internet is a public place, I can say what want.” I was like, whaaaaaaaaat? Okay, you can say what you and do what you want and internet is a public place. Including going to my page and bad-rating me, because you have a personal problem with me. I dunno if in the past I slept with the wrong girl, or something like that, I dunno. This nigga look like he wants to be popular, but like a lot niggas he blames me for his lack of success. I was like, okay, I’m gonna go Tupac on this nigga. My 4 4 gonna make sure your kids don’t grow. Okay, no problem, karma is a bitch. But me, I don’t really like karma, I like to speed up the process because it’s too slow. And guess what? He’s a local DJ. And people ask me, weeeeeell, people don’t ask me, he asks people to ask me why I never invite him. Ha. First of all, he just reminded me of his fucking 1 star. I looked for his DJ profile name. I went to his DJ page and I returned his favor. I gave him 1 motherfucking star, because if there was a zero, I was gonna give him a zero. I told the person who he used as his cell phone communication or if he was in Africa, drums aka another way of communication, to tell him that Milonga is a snake that never forgets the smell of the person that tried to hit her. No matter how many years you can go, as soon as you come around, she will bit you back. I possess Milonga blood.

This picture right here was at Salsa Glam, 2010, aka 8 years ago, when I just moved to Montreal. It’s just to remind this motherfucker of the Milonga blood.

#gangstaphysique, gun day. Because yesterday I didn’t have time to work on my guns.

#soberdays number 69. I can see clearer. I can think sharper. Carrot juice is a thing. Smokes free. I never cough, because there is nothing in my lungs.

Kanye West is a bitch. I used to like him. Not anymore.

 

#soberdays | #day69 | #Boston7daystogo

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