Canned Fruit.

My experience the past several years can be likened to that of canned fruits and vegetables at your local grocery store. You know, when cheap people purposely drop and dent the cans to avoid paying full price for the contents inside? You know the contents are fine; you're the one who just dropped the cans only moments ago. Come on. At least have an original thought, people. I submit to you that I am not a can of peaches. I am a man. Continuing on, do you know the main thing that attracts black men to white women? Their hair. It's true.

Black men love white women for their hair. We go outside of our color for long, flowing locks. I would marry a blonde wig if it were legal in this state, but unfortunately it's not. You know, I was walking down the street the other day, and I noticed something unusual: Mexican babies, give or take, tend to be about the same size as the adults who carry them. Seriously, I saw this one Mexican lady with a baby on her hip. The baby's toes had to be inches away from the ground. I'm thinking "You look like a baby yourself. How did you even give birth to her?" The thing about being in a relationship is that I will finally have someone around to get mad at me and throw things at me while we are drunk. When I was single, I used to make due and argue with my own shadow. Or a cave. It would answer back.

It wasn't too much fun and entirely too predictable. Mr. Social Butterfly, movin' on up FTW.

Ever see a bunch of white guys sitting around doing drugs? That works. That's called a "band." A bunch of black guys sitting around doing drugs? We call that a "gang." That's problematic, kind sir. Big difference.