I flew into Los Angeles earlier today and I was greeted by 105 degree heat -- After being greeted by the heat all I wanted was the comfort of my apartment and a tall glass of Raspberry Lemonade V-8 [easy ice] that I had waiting on me once I stepped foot into my apartment. I gathered my things from the truck and made my way to my overpriced villa ...

As I make my way up the stairs leading to my apartment I take notice of a mailer that was hanging on my screen door. I had every intention of retreiving the mailer and discarding it ... That was before the mailer hit the ground and landed in front of a neighbors' door. I stood there letting go of a slight chuckle because I knew I wasn't going to pick it up since I hadn't knocked it down. I placed my keys into my door hoping to escape the heat that was tapping on my back. As sweat found it's way from the nape of my neck to the smalls of my back, I looked back and noticed the mailer that was now sitting in front of my neighbor's door looking somewhat hopeless. I had bigger issues to deal with and the mailer wasn't one of them.

After locking the screen door behind me I placed the mail from last week on the table and walked towards the bathroom to take a piss ... While opening windows and verifying everything was still in the same place that I left it before my trip on Thursday evening I looked out of my apartment and took notice of the mailer again. I really wanted to pick it up but I didn't feel the need to do so. Again I went about my business and took in the coolness of my overpriced villa.

Moments later my neighbor Mr. Furley appeared outside of his apartment and was standing in front of my door requesting my attention. Mr. Furley is the type of neighbor who has a demanding voice that carries whenever he opens his mouth ... and it caught me by surprise while walking around my apartment in my t-shirt and my panties! At first I thought about running for cover but decided against it since this here overprice villa is my juke joint and I had shelled out this month's rent about a week early -- So I stood still and gave Mr. Furley the attention he was requesting.

Mista: Yes - Mr. Furley

Mr. Furley: I hate to do this Mista but I gotta do it.

Mista: Okay

Mr. Furley: Now I hate these mailers that they place on our doors just like the next man but what good does it do when it goes from your door to mine? Hmmm? It causes me to pick it up and discard it because you refused to do so.

Mista: I understand and I apologize -- Would you mind handing it to me?

Mr. Furley: Sure

I'm sure Mr. Furley didn't appreciate the fact that I was standing in my apartment with a smirk on my face -- but I couldn't help but notice that Mr. Furley was standing almost 15 feet away from me and talking like he was addressing a boardroom full of executives. I almost caught an attitude not because he had addressed the mailer, but because he had the nerve to get L O U D over something so circumstantial.

Alright ... I'm Gone