oo, don dada, oo run tings?

So I'm celebrating today. It's not my first... event in the music industry. It's merely the largest yet, and it won't get larger than this. So I'm celebrating. Had I the common sense of common people, I'd be in Brooklyn trying to cajole Sister Emanuella to make me some moist wollof. Instead it is the middle of the night and I'm wondering just what rastaman would think... just what he would say if I rang his doorbell at this time asking him for a beef patty. I'd get it, I'm sure. I'd certainly get it. As an artist I have chosen, now, not to involve myself in the business aspect of art. I don't want to know the value of my work because it will never be adjudicated fairly. I'm that fly now--my girlfriend is a modeller--where years ago I was a geek mumu with nothing but a stick of weed in my hand and an idea... of how fly i wanted to be in the future. Wouldn't you know I got there. But there is a problem... it is my girlfriend. Now, the good book tells us that the love of modellers is the root of most evil. It is the root of passionate sex, certainly. But dis gurl, ehn, her tory done begin get k leg. Is why I have often said that women are evil and advocated them being put, all, in brothels... to serve men and work for our... orgasms... if I can be honest... for... (hold on, my phone is ringing...