Yo lets get one thing straight. If I wasn’t a blogger I’d be a professional dancer. I’d be on tour with Usher and Chris Brown and all those motherfuckers. Because when I step on the dance floor I bring the fucking FIRE. I do the finger snaps and the claps and I do the best white-boy-biting-his-lower-lip-while-dancing that you have EVER fucking seen. Straight fire flames. I almost feel bad for my brother and his wife because it was almost like I stole the show, you know? Like the whole thing was supposed to be all eyes on them, and instead people were like “yea yea yea bride, groom, whatever. Whos that fucking stud tearing up the d-floor? Is he a professional? Did they hire him along with Mr. Met?”

On a serious note, I am becoming my father more and more every single second of every day. I’m starting to talk like him and act like him all the time. And now even this, with the dancing. My dad has what he calls his “Black Hip” and his “White Hip.” His Black Hip he can stick out and shake when hes dancing. His White Hip though, stays perfectly still. Dude can’t move his left hip if his life depended on it. Looks like the Tin Man from Wizard of Oztrying to dance. Well thats me in that third picture. That left hip is fucking set in stone. I’m all right, no left. Not a good look, Daddio. Not a good look at all.