No, this blog hasn’t gone crazy and gangsta, or anything like that.
By the way, hearing me say the word “gangsta” in real life is really hilarious – just ask my husband.
Okay so back to why I’m hu$$tlin. It’s actually not me that’s hu$$tlin but someone who either lives in, or visits, my apartment complex. I woke up the other morning and took Josh to work. While I was hauling my 17 pound baby (yeah, she’s 17 pounds now) and her carseat to the car I noticed some writing on the ground in the middle of the parking lot. I reminded myself to get a better look when it was a little lighter and when I was more awake.
Upon my return home, I got out of the car to look and this is what I saw:
Now, I’m not sure if you can read it very well but it does, in fact, say: “Everyday I’m Hu$$tlin”.
……………. In the parking lot of my apartment complex.
……………. In chalk.
Oh, and can we talk about that for a second? For one, if you’re going to write something in a parking lot in chalk, you should have the decency to spell it correctly. I believe that the correct spelling of the word is “hustlin'”. If you want to get more technical, it should be “hustling”. Also, “hustlin'” is spelled with an “s”, not dollar signs. ALSO.. Chalk? Really? Since when did 7 year olds hu$$tle? I posted about this on my Facebook and one of my friends responded, “Maybe Ke$ha is in town”.
That’s probably it. Maybe she decided to visit a friend who lives in my humble little apartment complex. She seems like the kind of girl who doesn’t discriminate when it comes to partying. Booze is booze and if someone’s having a party, she’s there with her water bottle full of whiskey, getting her drunk text on. She’s probably brushing her teeth with some Jack Daniels as we speak, and feeling a lot like P. Diddy.
Keep hu$$tlin’, my friends. Keep hu$$tlin’.