Macklemore is straight up beautiful.
Special thanks to “P,” the dude that introduced me to this poet lyricist mastermind. P wasn’t a very nice man. We went on 2 marginal “dates,” if you can even call it that, since one out of two times involved me picking him up in DC at 3am because he drank too much to drive. That was awfully nice of me, huh?
And then, after that, P got all flighty like I was expecting too much from him. I’m not sure if it was the rapid-fire emails about my childhood that I manically sent him one day while bored at my desk, or if it was because I don’t give a shit about the San Antonio Spurs. Which one could it be?
P broadened my horizons by informing me of all the ways I was screwing up my life. For about a month, I seriously considered what he was telling me. In a nutshell: I have no discipline. It was depressing and a real mind-f*ck, and P wasn’t even my type.
A few weeks later, a FESTIVUS MIRACLE occurred, and I met a guy “J” who liked me just the way I am, and he’s good looking and perfect for me. THANK YOU GOD.
But I’m glad P told me how much my taste in music sucked and how I should check out Macklemore. He was right on the latter part.
Here Macklemore raps about drug abuse and creativity. Heads up, writers.