No one will blame you for confusing these two. It’s a completely understandable mistake.
This little number is to honor DC Mayor Emeritus Marion “Bitch set me up” Barry for the boldness he continuously displays in not paying taxes while he is on PAROLE for tax evasion. This is the second time he hasn’t filed since being convicted.
I wasn’t living in DC while he was mayor, but times sure musta been good. Because this man is a crack smokin’, no tax payin’, parole violatin’ felonious city official (re-elected mayor after CRACKgate and currently serving on the City Council) and people still think he can do no wrong. Talk about teflon. Dude must be a wizard.
My Blackberry is back. And all is right with the world.
It’s 6:09 a.m.
9 minutes since I realized I lost my Blackberry.
This is a photo of my Blackberry during the good times. It’s actually from a blog I never posted called “Never leave home without them — my Crackberry andÂ my set list.” So much for that…
I’m sitting at the gate ready to fly back home and I’m looking through my bookbag for my ‘medicine.’ Crackberry… where are you? I looked in the small pouch in front where my camera and my keys are. Looked in the miedum size zip compartment and in the large one.
I stood up and checked my pockets. Felt myself up pretty good. Looked in my sweatshirt and my puffy coat. No luck. I exhaled and I saw my life flash before my eyes. Every club/booker contact, tons of old friends… I’m not even sure I know my mom’s cell number. Never needed to know it as long as I know how to spell Mom. M-O-M. I asked the lady sitting across from me if she’d be so kind as to call my phone in case I was just overlooking it in the bag. I knew it was on full volume because I just used it to wake myself up. She called me.
But my bag didn’t ring.
It’s 6:21 a.m.
She allowed me to use her cell so that I could call the hotel and see if I left it in the room or at the front desk when I checked out. It wasn’t at the desk. And the operator told me she’d have housekeeping check the room when they got in. “What time is that?” I asked. “Soon,” she said.
I can’t wait ’til soon.
It’s 6:37 a.m.
And now I understand why they tell recovering addicts to cut off their friends who are still using. It’s too hard to watch someone do the drug you love and not indulge. The man sitting in the chair next to me is on his Blackberry right now. I’m trying to be discrete but I can’t stop looking at it. Maybe I should get up and move. Distance myself from the poison. Or maybe… I could ask him to let me touch it.
It’s 6:40 a.m.
I asked the nice woman across from me if I could borrow her phone once more so that I could try and call it again. This time someone answers. It’s Jenna. The manager from the club that dropped me off at the airport. Duh. I didn’t even think I took the phone out in the car. She said she would overnite it to me. All is well with the world…
Overnite it? That means I won’t have it until sometime tomorrow. How am I gonna make it ’til tomorrow? Oh God.
It’s 6:43 a.m.
I have to get on the plane now.Â I don’t anticipateÂ this being a goodÂ day. Stay tuned for updates.
To Be Continued…