My First Gray Hairs

So, yesterday was a humbling experience, son. Look, I always joke about being washed, but I actually felt it yesterday. I mean, I already have the joints of a 60-year-old dude. But, that’s because of my years of basketball, man. On the real, this gray hair shit is for the birds, fam. Frankly, I thought I had more time before my follicles threw in the towel, bruh. All in all, Father Time is trying to run up on the kid, brethren.

Ok, before I continue, let me tell everyone a quick story. So, I first shaved my head bald back in February of 2009. After getting into an argument with my Jamaican barber about where my hairline should be, I said “fuck it,” son. Shit, instead of pretending like my shapeup wasn’t starting to make the McDonald’s arch, I just took it all off, man. Side note, hearing a barber yell “no mon, it don’t grow dere” in patois is a trash ass feeling, folks. Anyway, because of this, I haven’t paid much attention to what my hair does when it starts to grown back in.

In any case, as of late, I’ve been lazy with shaving my head. So, when I hopped out the shower yesterday, I was in for a rude awakening, fam. Now, at first, when I saw the gray, I thought it was dead skin, bruh. Real talk, I tried to scratch the shit off, but it wouldn’t budge. From there, I asked my wife if she could try scratching it off. She looked at my head and was like “babe, that ain’t dead skin, that’s a gray hair. Oh, and you have another one over here.” Wait, what? Word? Listen, it would be one thing if I was “premature gray” or some shit. But, that ain’t it, folks. The boy LC is just getting old, people.

In the end, this post might not matter to anyone else, but it matters to me. Not because I think there’s something wrong, but because it’s a reminder that I need to take better care of myself. Ultimately, I’m not trying to be the bedridden old head or the geriatric senior citizen. Hell, good thing I just bought a bunch of dumbbells for the crib, son. At the end of the day, I’m trying to feel like a fucking superhero when I’m 50, man. With that being said, let me get outta here and lift some weights, fam. Good day. LC out.

P.S. I’d rock the fuck out of a gray beard, though. Let’s make that happen, Father Time! That is all.

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New Year’s Gym Etiquette

So, welcome to 2018, everyone! Listen, we’ve all been blessed to see another year, so we need to make sure that we take full advantage, son. With that being said, let’s briefly talk about New Year’s Resolutions, man. Now, when it comes to making a change in a new year, “getting in shape” is always high on people’s lists, fam. I mean, it’s understandable because folks feel like they have all 365 days to better themselves. In any case, I have a quick message for all of the newbies who shall be in the gym this month: get the fuckity-fuck out of my way!

Ok, I know this post may cause me to seem uppity and pretentious. In addition, I’m only like 6 months into my fitness journey, so I probably shouldn’t be judging anyone. However; fuck all of that, bruh! Real talk, if today is someone’s first day in the gym, I’ve got dibs on the dumbbells, son! Shit, if I need that 40-pound dumbbell, I might slap it out of a newbie’s hand, man! Yeah, that person can wait, fam! On the real, folks should let the regulars get their workouts done before they start commandeering equipment. All in all, that should be the price of admission, people!

In the end, I’m all for self-improvement, son. However; I ain’t allowing cats to just hog up all of the space, man. Ultimately, I might have to be Deebo at all local NYSC‘s, fam. By and by, if someone asks me for a weight, don’t be surprised if I ask “what weight” and uppercut ’em. That is all. Happy New Year and LC out!