I is what I is and what I am is like my mammy.
I’m a closet Missy Elliot fan un-closeting herself right now for all of y’all to see.
I can’t stop playing Under Construction, and now I intend to buy her older CDs that I almost bought last year but chickened out on because they have so many badwords, even for me. But I don’t care anymore. I admire her confidence, ambition, and cynicism even while I have to sigh at her old-school valuation of codependancy. Also, I love Ludacris’s self-deprecatingly cynical rap on Gossip Folks.
I’ve been getting a small amount of shit for listening to that sort of thing, but I don’t care anymore. My windows are always up and my bass doesn’t shake anything, so I’m living within the Golden Rule. Right? So don’t be hatin’.
