Flashback Outfit: Ghetto GlamYO

Someone brought me flowers to mourn the tragicness of this outfit.

Apparently I was fishing for some serious street cred (or high on crack) when I put this outfit on back in the early 2000’s. There’s nothing like an ice cold Heiny in between your vaginy. Putting Poonatz (pet name for my Vagina) on ice is something I wouldn’t recommend – unless you are making a cocktail of course.

I’m wearing bling-boy necklaces. Let’s pause a moment on this: One is $ symbol – the other just says Def Jam because if you’re going to run an office, run it like Russell Simmons. That was my office on Newbury Street in Boston back when I had drive, ambition and a bit of b-boy obsession – which reminds me of this:

Which was partially sampled from this:

Yes, last time I checked my skin was whiter than snow but that didn’t stop me from convincing myself that I was a black man trapped in a white girl’s body – and that waking up in my pathetic girly form would sure make any type of business in this society (except prostitution) difficult to come by. Not true. Prostitution is much more difficult to come on by. I won a bet with this photo. Don’t ask me what it was for – someone needed to be one-uped about something which is why I wore all the YO gear I could muster. For years it was my yo-go-to profile pic – which explains why I never had many dates throughout my mid-20’s.

I’m proud to say that trucker hat is original – found in a thrift store long before the Teenage Millionaire craze. I no longer smoke in offices (and other places) due to high fines, fire hazards and vanity. I also own a computer not powered by a Pterodactylus.

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