Typically I'm the one walking into places reeking of weed, so when I showed up at the Kevin Hart concert on Monday and was the only person that wasn't fresh out of a hot-boxed car, I almost felt like I was being impolite.
There are times that I wish I was a celebrity. Not for the fame, or the money, or the public recognition, but rather the unwavering trust that the general public has in your basic opinions. For example, as far as I am aware, Shaquille O'Neal is not a physician, nor has ever set foot in a chiropractic school, but when that dude starts to talk about back pain in the commercials, I'm like, well, this guy probably knows what he's talking about.
As much as I bitch and moan and complain about Halloween, it's tough to
deny that for some folks, it's a good form of escapism for one night. It
must be a harsh comedown for someone to go to bed a slutty nurse on the
31st, and wake up back to being Brandy, super slutty Denny's waitress,
on the 1st.
