Hey yo Bitch

A client of mine had a keen observation to share one night as we drove up Hollywood Boulevard. First we both saw a woman in a very short, tight dress walking in her four inch pumps. Then we saw a young male who was thoroughly accessorized in the latest rap music culture-wear. He yelled out something to this nice looking young lady struggling to stay upright in her pumps that neither of us could grasp from behind the windows of our luxury car being pumped full of Jazz music via satellite.


So my client began, “I’m wondering how that man will tell his kids about how he met their mom twenty years from now.” I waited for the epiphany. “Kids, I saw your mom and said, ‘Hey yo bitch, come over here, yo, and shake that thing my way!’ And he would sum it all up,” she went on, with the standard age old reflection, “and when our eyes met it was love at first sight.” Some things just never change, except they way they are said.

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