I'm Not JayZ

These are apples and pears, cockney for stairs, hand picked and shipped to me from a small family organic farm. They sit on some sort of fabulous silver thingermabob. Now as parents you toss aside many things. I got no nights out. I got no fast car. I got no city view. I got no entourage. I'm losing my mojo/steelo/and street cred along with my hairline to some far off land called thetwenties. I blame it all on the parenting lifestyle. It consumes you. Takes all your time, ruins your relationships with your city friends and allows issues such as preschool and optimized nap schedules to take up residence in a brain that used to house nothing but Sonic Youth lyrics and zippo tricks. So screw you JayZ. I don't need your penthouse. Check out my organic fruit in a metal whatchamacallit. Flossy flossy. I'm living hella large people.