I Wanna Get Better

So.

full disclosure.

I’ve been struggling with unemployment for the past few months.

At first, it started out as a massive kick to the face. Dear God, here I am, 29 (at the time) earning my way through the complex digital world, meeting people, networking, not truly understanding the power I wield but I’m paying my bills on time and contributing the the toxic sludge that is the internet.

so paid

so paid

After a few days, it turned into a mini vacation. I was still meeting people for chats, consulting on best practices, sleeping in a bit, hanging out with people. It was like seeing the world for the first time in awhile. Obligations were gone for a moment.

but forever

After about a month, it became a debilitating, soul crushing experience. Waking up early to stare off at the job listings screen, wondering why anyone wasn’t returning my calls or emails then forcing myself to eat breakfast then go to the gym to clear my head.

srsly

After two months, my birthday.

I’m now 30 years old.

I can’t celebrate anything really. I have a party of sorts. I get a little drunk but it’s that kind of drunk where you want your feelings to drown so you can float to the surface, embracing clarity and say you’ll never do that again knowing damn well you’re going to do it.

It all feels like a surreal nightmare where I’ve been dropped into a Fincher movie; all muted hyper colors and textures and there’s an alternate version of me walking around, successfully. Okay so I may have described the plot to Fight Club but it’s the same idea really. There is another version of me, improving, living, thriving.

I am Jack’s complete disillusionment

 

I figure, while I’m booking random gigs, for which I am grateful, I would just try to live a little bit. I try going out early in the day, New York in the summer is my favorite type but I find myself getting up early to go to the gym, be upset, get rejection letters, going home, showering and sitting in my bedroom, AC barely on watching Netflix.

You do a lot of soul searching and personal assessing when something like this happens. As it happens, I’ve been coping with a separation, so it was basically a mega shitshow hurricando mega force suckfest. You start picking things apart, putting the pieces into boxes to really get a big picture and see what happened. I didn’t lose my job due to performance, just the economics of the business. Like a survivor on Lost or Gilligan’s Island, I pick through the debris and see what I can salvage. Turns out I’m more a Gilligan than a Professor. Mercifully, the relationship is still sort of salvageable, but that’s a whole other entry. OR several. Stiff upper lip, I work through it.

I go to a lot of bar events.

I don’t tan.

I’ve dyed my hair at least four times already.

By August I book a gig working the U. S. Open (I dye my hair an acceptable color) The job feels like summer camp really.

When I close out this job, I make the note to spend more time in a gym because there is nothing on Serena Williams’ body that jiggles. THE BOOTY REAL.

actually watched this match. it was intense

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I make money, meet people, pass around my business card and discuss business opportunities but the entire time, I find that I’m struggling with just what is that I am offering? What is that I do?

I continue checking my email, sending my resume out, collecting rejection letters, random messages for gigs and the occasional offer to enlarge my penis. As if my problems aren’t enough, my phantom dick is small. fuck my life.

I go to New York Comic Con.

IMG_0372

where I sat in the same room as Edward Norton and Michael Keaton

I work a Thanksgiving Day commercial for one day, setting up office in a home gym in a house with a price tag that makes me weep.

I work a lot of odd jobs.

I work.

What am I doing?!

I’ve become a drone, mindlessly filling out job application after application, hoping to at least land a gig that caters to my skill set. I apply for retail jobs, knowing full well they are the very textbook definition of temporary and I fear repeating the vicious cycle that the last six years have been. (As me about it some time, I’ll tell you all about it. Preferably over drinks.)  I wind up doing more writing and land a few pieces on Vh-1 which fuels me to find my niche and again I’m dumbfounded.

I’ve never done a career assessment. Ever.

In college, I was always in the career office looking at job postings, figuring I can do that, that sounds easy enough. I never sat with anyone to discuss my skills and interests. I never figured out what it was thatI could do and then was completely baffled as to why I had been passed for the position. I still never went to see anyone about it, figuring it was because I hadn’t had a proper resume to begin with. How many times as a college student were you passed on a job because you didn’t have a job before? (I’ve been working since the age of fourteen)

After that, I just dove head first into everything that I could, figuring something would stick in my wheelhouse. I worked in A&R, I worked as a camera operator, post production assistant, I was a copywriter, I was a delivery girl (woman!), I ran social media for various entities. I did it all, I did too much, I wanted to do more. I’d bitched about everything going on, as is the right of all working people in a capitalist society doing what they can to survive.

I have a resume with various skills but none of that experience tallied into a single marketable skill; there is no singular thing that I can define as my ability. (Swearing doesn’t count, sadly) I have a fairly succinct resume, divided between all my media work and then my production work into two fairly respectable entities, never mind the jobs in between all of that. Looking at them side by side, I feel like I’ve been a million different people from one day to the next and none of us can agree on just who we are professionally; we just want to collect the credit, the experience, file it and see where it takes us. (forget the hot mess that I am on a personal level.)

Just what the fuck is it that I do?

Like I said. I’ve never done a career assessment. I’ve had professional friends work with me on molding and shaping who I am, or at least guiding me in the direction to which is best suited to my abilities. We all agreed that I am a Swiss Army Knife. Adaptable to situations, capable, smart, stylish. Pocket sized.

I should pick a better selfie

I tried to do it myself.

What I’ve figured out so far is that I write a lot, (ramble coherently mostly), enjoy comic books, movies, I have pretty gay tendencies, I like animals, movies, off-color humor, drinking and swearing.

Basically I’m a Puerto Rican Judd Apatow character.

(if he was y’know a little more diverse in his writing)

I struggle with anxiety and I learned that when I speak to people, I have to memorize a script so that I can avoid mumbling something incoherent. (Fun fact! I was a theater kid for most of my life but my decision to get tattoos and dye my hair often tanked it.) I started getting more in depth with researching things, reading deeper into some articles. I wrote down ideas and tried testing them out on this blog. I tried dressing better too; apparently t-shirt and jeans is not standard grown lady apparel. I did not receive that notice. Studies indicate that doing little things to improve one’s appearance can increase their confidence and outwardly influence people they meet and thusly line your pockets with money. (vicious cycle)

Now armed with this newfound knowledge, I send out my resume, cover letter and articles to various publications in the hope that one of these strange traits will land me something somewhat resembling an opportunity but I still feel fake. I work and tweak the details, polish myself up, sell sell sell. I curb my social media habits, especially if I’m using them to market myself. I can’t have my moody music posts deterring people from considering me. (we’ve all posted Coldplay songs, shut up) Even with all of this, I feel off.

There’s a nagging feeling at the back of my head. Something I keep missing and I know it.

I’ve always wanted to be a writer.

I didn’t list that as something I’m fully capable of doing.

me editing this mess

When I was employed full time, all I did was write on the side, the phantom ideas taking up my headspace while working on sheets, deadlines and deliveries. When I lost my job, I broke out all my notebooks, pouring over them, pulling them apart for deeper ideas and I started working on them. It felt much like looking through a yearbook when you’ve completely failed at everything. You want to find the place it went wrong and pick up from there, with fresh arms and legs to carry it.  I broke out a fresh notebook, Post It’s tucked into margins with plot points I had to remember and things I need to remember with world building. I started working on them all the time, hoping that maybe all the experience I’d collected would just pour out in the next great American novel because so far, my luck has been terrible. What’s the worst that could happen, really?

The one thing that’s kept me sane has been writing. My reading has declined substantially despite my growing book hoarding habits (thanks Strand!)  and article perusing while job hunting but my writing, my writing has continued. My last article for Vh-1, the controversial Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You May Be Christmas’ Greatest Song. Ever, landed me my first blockbuster article share (including a RT from Mariah’s team) and first brush with “U R A RETARD GO FUK URSELF MARIAH SUX” hate mail in the comments section. I’ve placed six with them and am trying to work on a full time reccurring segment of sorts but haven’t found the right hook as of yet. Truthfully, I haven’t been able to match that just yet; it’s the Thriller article of my young writing career. I’m working on Bad but fear that all anyone will ever want is Thriller. The fact is, I’m writing, so, that’s a good thing.

So.

Let’s recap.

I lost my job.

I worked a lot of other jobs.

I’m still looking for a job.

I will talk about work with you. Over drinks. Or not. Whatever.

Here’s what I do:

  1. I write
  2. I direct
  3. I produce
  4. I create
  5. I take pictures of random animals that I find in the street and fight the urge to bring them home with me because I’m unemployed and can’t afford that kind of lifestyle right now.
  6. I offer tech support in emerging technologies
  7. I tell dick joks
  8. I can manage YouTube, Tumblr, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Vine accounts. With some bilingual flair.
  9. I am a strange brand indeed but you won’t be bored.
  10. I’m the invisiblecircus

Let’s see where it goes because I want to be a better me.

Ten Years, Ten Songs Part 1

Ten Years Later, These Pop Songs Still Get Us

 

Believe it or not, some of your favorite songs are turning ten years old this year. Take a minute to appreciate that. Celebrate these ten favorites by taking a trip down memory lane and showing off at your next Throwback Thursday karaoke party.

 

Rihanna- Pon De Replay

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oEauWw9ZGrA

It’s hard to believe we’ve been jamming to Rihanna for ten years. What’s also hard? Them abs.

 

Snoop Dogg ft Pharrell Williams – Drop it Like It’s Hot

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GtUVQei3nX4

Admit it, you still try to emulate Pharrell’s tongue click and hum this when using a microwave.

 

Gwen Stefani – Hollaback Girl

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kgjkth6BRRY

Uh huh, holy s**t this song is ten years old. You still remember how to spell banana thanks to this song.

 

Ciara ft Missy Elliott- 1,2 Step

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iBHNgV6_znU

This…track…is… ten years old are you feeling old yet? Still can’t skate dance either. Ciara’s hips are hypnotizing.

 

Fall Out Boy – Dance, Dance

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C6MOKXm8x50

The kings of guyliner, pop punk playfulness and those sweet sweet dance moves. Still don’t know what they’re saying after all these years.

 

Mariah Carey – We Belong Together

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0habxsuXW4g

Possibly one of Mariah’s most quotable love songs just behind “Always Be My Baby”, like MC herself has aged well.

 

Rob Thomas – Lonely No More

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7spBU4Yv8fE

The song that always seem to be on lite radio’s perpetual loop whenever you go to the doctor’s office, drug store or a ride with your aunt in her 05 Camry.

 

Game ft 50 Cent – Hate It or Love It

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BuMBmK5uksg

Bringing New York and Los Angeles rap together, however briefly, over a classic Marvin Gaye melody, this song still manages to make you bop.

Kanye West ft Jamie Foxx – Gold Digger

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6vwNcNOTVzY

Eighteen years, eighteen years…

 

The Black Eyed Peas – My Humps

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iEe_eraFWWs

Few songs have boggled the mind of music fans more than what exactly humps the BEPs were referring to, 10 years later scholars and scientists alike agree, nobody knows.

 

I’m @invisiblecircus on the Twitters. Let’s talk about the good ol days and telling kids to get off our digital lawns.

iPhone vs Android or How I Discovered My Relationship Style

Technology is amazing isn’t it? We can communicate 24/7 we can selfie ourselves sick and we can Yelp about how awesome this Thai place is from a mobile device. Two weeks ago, Apple unveiled the iPhone 6 and it’s been interesting to watch how it didn’t quite meet the standards iPhone users and tech heads had come to expect from the juggernaut company.

I wanted a new phone. I’ve had an iPhone 4s for a few years and have come to love all the things that it can do, basic as it may seem.

I wanted to feel fresh bold and new, the way a fancy new piece of tech can make you feel.

I decided to upgrade and wound up with a big Samsung Galaxy 5s.

I went back to my iPhone after one day.

What happened? Wasn’t I so totally head over heels with the Samsung? Didn’t I want to take all the elaborate photos and videos and go, ‘I’ve moved on Apple, you lack innovation’ ? Wasn’t I totally upset when U2 appeared on my phone for no reason? Of course I was. I was ready to move on and then I realized, the text messages from the one person who I value the most weren’t coming in and they weren’t seeing anything I was sending. Suddenly, a panic. All the photos and videos and easy to draw dicks on people’s faces (there’s an app for that) in the world couldn’t save me from the fact that I couldn’t communicate with the one person who means the world to me.

My brother was ecstatic.

I’d finally dumped iPhone for Samsung and he had so many things he wanted to show me but in the back of my mind, I kept thinking, Black Widow had done so much for me that it was hard to just start working with Sam. I was cheating. I was cheating on the phone that had been so good and loyal to me despite all the times I’d wanted to throw it out a window, shoot it with an m-4 rifle then detonate a claymore right on top of it. It had been good to me and here I was, wanting something new when we both knew that wasn’t how this was going to work.

I researched, I toyed with it. I watched videos and tried to find reasons why having this flatscreen pressed to my face would make me happy and I realized that what I really use the phone for is communication, sending random photos and of course, talking to another person.

legit search history

I’d compared notes and tested both phones in store before walking away but I was struck with tremendous sense of guilt and a little bit of sadness, feelings you get when you walk away from a relationship. I’d had Black Widow (my iPhone 4s) for about 3 years and in that time I’d seen so many concerts, Tweeted so many douchebagy things, taken adorable pictures and watched the most random videos on this thing. I’d had arguments that should’ve never happened, text wars that didn’t make any sense and all emoji texts with said person who was really the reason why I was going back to the iPhone.

What does all of this say about me as a person?

I value experiences and memories over making something new happen. New experiences are great as long as they’re with someone or something familiar because you always want to broaden your horizons with the thing that reminds you of how far you’ve come and how much more there is to go. I like knowing that the phone I took a certain picture on is the same one in my hand when I’m taking a new picture. I like to compare their flaws, I like to know that I love them regardless of that and my having every version of a picture or operating system or hell, even a case, is enough to make me glad that I have them in the first place.

I’m loyal. Even if you’re doing something stupid, I’ll be with you to make sure you’ve learned something from this royally stupid mistake and even then, I won’t make fun of you for it, I’ll be glad that you tried something different and stayed true to yourself.

I like them shy I guess, the type that surprise you with how simple things make your day easier. They’re intuitive without needing to be shown.

A lot of Apple slander happened while I was debating phones, it sounded a lot like comparing partners. I defended Apple’s snobby elitism when it came to apps; I’d rather use who you trust than just let anybody into my life. It’s clean and fits without being eye catching. You notice it, do a double take and wonder how’d they get together. Much of what Samsung does is directly influenced by Apple so it’s like why are you doing the extra to get noticed? Samsung’s so big and bold and Apple is humdrum and simple. I’m simple. I’m boring actually, so it makes sense that I like the tried and true personality of an Apple versus the LOOK AT ME IM SO BIG I’M A BEAST bravado of the Samsung series. They’ve got a lot of great things going for them and I’m sure there will come a point where I really just don’t want to be using an Apple product anymore but again, the nostalgia, the comfort and knowledge that this phone was with you when you needed someone to talk to keeps me on the iPhone team.

I hated that the Samsung demanded I use my Gmail account to connect everything. Sure, you need an Apple ID but it asks you if you want to download things whereas with Google Play, all the things you do on your email gets shopped around and the phone just takes whatever it wants. You have to tell it to stop downloading things. I don’t want people to know that I spend way too much time on tumblr looking at gif sets of my OTP’s THAT IS MY TIME AND YOU DON’T GET TO SHARE IT!

I didn’t like that the Samsung told me I was stupid for not getting Swype or that my pictures needed to be enhanced somehow. I’m like, “sweetheart, you have a 16 megapixel camera, far better than any other phone in the market but I still see blotchy images that I have to fix in post. You’re not that good looking that I have to perform miracles on you okay? ”

Back to the relationship thing.

It terrified me walking around with this phone I didn’t know.

We were strangers on a first date, trying to get to know each other, being awkward. I asked what it liked to do and it told me, Ask Google. I asked if it liked taking pictures of cats and it said, ‘Sure yeah whatever we can do that’ I tried watching a movie on it and it was nice, we connected but we were silent, occasionally brushing fingertips in the popcorn and cringing at the contact. I changed the interface to closer resemble the iPhone, labeling my folders in the same quirky manner that I had with iPhone. It felt wrong somehow. I was making this phone more like me instead of it making me work and adapt and understand each other’s quirks.

At the end of the night, the Samsung kinda sat on my bed, big and bright, wanting me to play with it some more while my iPhone sat on an end table, quiet, stoic, understanding. I wound up Tweeting from my iPhone about how much I wasn’t enjoying Samsung, confessing to the main piece that you had one night with the side piece and it was awful. The iPhone was polite, listened and understood; it wasn’t personal, sometimes you just have to see the world to appreciate the beauty of your own front yard. I tossed and turned all night, checking on Sam and Black Widow to see who’d text me (I’d left the wifi on the iPhone on since the phone itself was disconnected) and no one said anything to me.

I work up this morning and called my carrier and cancelled the Samsung. The tech on the other line was surprised, almost shocked that I’d just bought this glorious masterpiece of tech and I was going back to the same old same old. She was understanding (I gave her a five rating for her service) and walked me through the process of one night stand with Sam. I’d have to go back to the store and tell them why Sam and I just weren’t going to work out.

I backed up Black Widow onto the Tardis, my Macbook Pro. My wallpaper the same one from an August concert with the one person I constantly communicate with (and with whom the double entendre of this post is for) my apps back where they belong and everything seemed to right itself. The simplicity of knowing that this relationship is just going to make sense because we make sense settled over me like the blanket I want my boo to cover me when it’s cold out. We read each other’s thoughts and know what the other needs without having to be explicit about it.

I’m back with my iPhone and who knows what the future holds, I just know as long as there is an outlet and I have a charging cable, I’ll trust where we’re going.

I Listened to “Trigga” Because You Didn’t Tell Me It Was Out

While Usher was sitting in a spin chair on The Voice, he left the lane wide open for other sexy men to infiltrate the musical bedrooms of young ladies. In that time we had Jason Derulo try to get us to “Talk Dirty” (curses, that sax hook is stuck in my head now) and never to be outdone Mr. Steal Your Girl, Trey Songz made us want to work out more with “Nana.” While Usher spends time reminding you why he is really that good, Trigga was released this week so he can bask in the juicy that is dirty sex and booze.

You didn’t tell me.

Now I’m going to listen to it.

Italics are lyrics.

Track 1 Cake

There are not enough songs about booty in the world.

Trap trap trap beats.

:30 I’m taken but I want you

: 48 You can’t have cake and eat it too

but aint that what you supposed to do? 

Cake’s on the menu. 

This song is about Cake. NOTHING ELSE. Trey obviously loves pastries.

Track 2 Foreign

We’re going on a sex adventure with Trey.

Colombia, France, Australia…

This is already better than Talk Dirty only because while naming it manages to convince you that other girls from other countries are hot, there is no sax loop to drive you insane and subsequently have your  parents dance. Passports are important.

You know I had to cop that foreign.

Track 3 Na Na

This song was designed to blow out speakers and probably backs.

I think I already did and I’m alone at home.

ayyeee.

Three tracks in and I think the goal is to have already gotten clothes off.

Track 4 Touchin, Lovin feat Nicki Minaj

Reunited with Nicki and the pre-chorus is a nod to R.Kelly/ Biggie’s Fuckin You Tonight.

The dirty old bitch that I am finds that endearing.

This is the ‘we’re in our underwear’ portion of the album.

IT IS ONLY TRACK 4.

2:40 Nicki bringing the fire, call 911. Lyrically, she’s just been impeccable since dropping that lame persona she picked up from Gaga.

Track 5 Disrespectful ft Mila J

Alright, we’re on a storytelling tip right now. Picture both of you cheating and neither of you caring about your significant other because HE’S WEARING YOUR MAN’S SLIPPERS BUT TRIGGA DON’T CARE.

ugh.

This song is terrible with how real it is because there are people who really don’t give two shits about the side piece wearing the main piece’s things.

Also real catchy.

Track 6 Dead Wrong feat Ty Dolla $ign

All of these songs about hoes and clubs being disrespectful. Who hurt you Trey?

But the hoes gonna do what they want

Trey’s done a fantastic job of know where his strengths are and the production so far has really been complimentary to that ‘pre club, pre game’ crowd. Features have been solid so far.

Also, this is the hickey portion of the sexing theoretically happening to this album.

Track 7 All We Do

Welcome to the creep part of the album. Elastic snaps, slow delivery high snap snares. This is basically a slow mo video.

1:20 All we do is fuck drink and sleep.

I’m clearly in the wrong line of work.

Actually shocked that the bestie Drake isn’t on this track, this literally all he talks about.

All we do is let the hook repeat too often tho.

Track 8 Foreign Remix feat Justin Bieber

I want to skip this so badly…

:30 Dominican Puerto Rican yea they do it for me. *justin beieber

I WANT TO LIGHT MYSELF ON FIRE.

couldn’t do it. Gotta skip and the features were really good right until this happened. JESUS BE ANTI BACTERIAL GEL.

Track 9 Late Night feat Juicy J

Mike Will Made It production.

We’re telling time with more trap music and late night booty calls, which are the only ones anyone is interested in. If you’re calling for brunch sex, please ask elsewhere. Like the girlfriend you’re cheating on with the late night jump off.

At this point you’ve probably chilled a bit and are getting snacks but run back because Juicy J is on.

2:30 SHE RATCHET DIRTY DIANA. 

Juicy J has been incredible with the pop culture references. People have actually had to explain the Jeffery Dahmer line in Dark Horse.

Track 10 SmartPhones

Starts with the buzz from a phone on a flat surface that makes you look for your own phone to make sure it’s not the bae…because you’re out cheating remember?

This is the track that makes you remember that cheating and drinking is bad so you want to say sorry and you find the right words using a Trey Songz song vs a say…Robin Thicke. You also will leave the lyrics to this on a FB status.

1:45 So if she heard it all. I’m all out of love tonight. I could say it was a joke but who am I kidding she ain’t slow.

He’s giving me Usher circa “Confessions” feelings right now.

Now I’m gonna say whatever it takes.

time is not on our side cause she’s waving goodbye goodbye

Smartphones dumb shit

Track 11 Yes, No Maybe

We’ve hit the part of the album where all that Mr Steal Your Girl’ing has gotten you caught in the feels and she’s going out and doing all that Ms. Steal Your Man thing that hoes do.

This is the song that’s about the fact that fidelity is difficult and people let each other be hoes while they hope they can get it out of their system just so they can get married but we all know the old saying, can’t make a ho a housewife but good luck with that

Dragged on too long.

Track 12 Y.A.S

Slow piano over trap snare.

:49 Guess I got used to hearing whatever I wanted to hear

Guess I got used to feeling like you were supposed to give it here

She ain’t got nothing good to say so she ain’t saying nothin.

Lot of dudes not listening to their ladies.

Y.A.S is an acronym for You Aint Shit.

THIS IS GENIUS.

This is the dress down track because she’s found the dude that’s actually not Trey (it’s actually Usher) and he’s much better. The butthurt sincerity is real and the track has taken a hilarious dramatic piano jab and it’s bordering into R.Kelly storytelling theatrics.

Track 13 Change Your Mind

The cute pop track that gets buried at the bottom of these albums because you don’t want to be THAT soft dude but the lady has to know you cuddle and wear matching Snuggies while watching Netflix. It’s 90s pop snap that someone young would’ve done to break into the scene.

Change my mind Trey, g’head

 

Track 14 What’s Best For You

The break up song.

Always buried at the end of the album after all the hoe-ing is done. There’s a sincerity in his delivery that really makes him stand out vocally. Again, another vintage sounding track with well produced layering and approach that kinda makes up for all the drinking we just did.

In case you’re keeping score, this is the part where the making out has stopped and you’re kinda in that cuddle mode.

Track 15 Love Around The World

We’re back to finding all the girls we met in the “Foreign” track because the passport is missing and can’t get back to the bae without it so we have to treat this like the Hangover and retrace our steps with makin love with all the ladies in the cities we’ve been and dig around the couch cushions for that passport.

I’ve made LOoooooove all around the world.

Pitbull better watch his back…Mr. Steal Your Girl might be Mr. Worldwide.

Track 16 I Know (Can’t Get It Back)

Violins and synths…this should be good.

:20 I never had time for you

This is why you went on your international plow festival?!

1:00 I’ve been living my life in these clubs

but but…you made me change my mind!!

These hoes ain’t loyal.

The violin loop is just the most right now.

Track 17 Mr. Steal Your Girl

We’ve reached the sensual part of the album where now we’ve learned that he’s not going to get back with the other girl so here we are about to do some nekkid stuffs because let’s face it, all that’s why  pressed play on this album. KAY?

I’m glad we got to that point.

1:50 Let your man know that Mr. Steal Your Girl is back

I didn’t doubt it.

Overall, Trigga is one of those albums that you know Songz goes into the studio intending to deliver the goods…musically, boning is optional. It’s the album you listen to when you’re feeling a type of way (horny) and it may not hold up for overall listening a year from now simply because the material is almost a retread of his older work. Vocally he’s in his element and production wise he definitely succeeds in challenging the new school or urban r&b hierarchy since the seat seems to be vacated. A few tracks drag but they’re more for the DJs who will definitely use these tracks in the club…