Black (Imperfect) Lives Matter, Too

I gotta confession. I ain’t perfect. Far from it. No matter how much my momma stresses to me that I’m the tallest, most handsome boy/man to ever grace the state of Mississippi and possibly the whole earth, I ain’t perfect. My imperfections are many. I recall this one imperfection when I got intoxicated at a Washington, D.C. day party. For those who don’t know, D.C. day parties are the shit. It’s filled with endless trap music, endless drinks and endless bougie black people, going back and forth over the stresses…