Last night I met the Anti-Christ at a Wu-tang concert. My date was Nia Long... Yeah, the actress. We didn't even have to wait in line. She had back stage passes. (So did the Anti-Christ)
The concert was mad ill! At the after party I knocked out about four imported beers. (The ones in the green bottle) It was jive cool rubbing shoulders with all the stars that were there. Nia disappeared for about twenty minutes with one of the co-stars from her last movie. About this same time I was feeling REAL GOOD! A joint of some bomb ass weed would have been right on time. The Anti-Christ was kicking it with two fly ass dime pieces. He motioned for me to come over.
Now I ain't one to ride the next man's dick, but that mother fucker was rocking the hell out of his outfit. He had on some purple suede Wallies, with a pair of off white silk pants... The shirt was the exact same color and material as the pants and the diamond cuff-links must have been at
least 6kt. He introduced me to the two women, Kristine and Carmela. I gave a sly smile and said, "What up, I'm Michael." Something must have been funny, because they both started laughing. I was just about to bounce, but the Anti-Christ sparked up a fat ass spliff of that bubonic. He passed it to me after taking three hits. I hit it like a true champ. THE WEED WAS BANGING! I was straight after four tokes. We split a bottle of 1969 Moët & Chandon Champagne Cuvée Dom Pérignon Rosé and kicked the willy bo-bo's. (The spirits needed some time in the crystal flute to settle down and start showing it's character.) Your boy was feeling nice. Shit, Halle Berry was even flirting with me. (No bullshit!)
Nia came back and was ready to jet. I told the Anti-Christ I was about to be Swayze and we exchanged pager numbers. He said his code was triple 6. I had to laugh at that because mine is triple 7. He said we'd hook up again. We gave each other some dap and me and Nia jumped in the limo.

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