The OL (don’t call her that)

The original Lauren probably isn’t the original Lauren. I think that was Bacall or Sofarabia. In any event, here is a story about her, involving me and the first time we never met.

First, I was all, “Yo, girl. Do you want to be my music girlfriend?”

And she was all, “Watch out, this might get hot and heavy.”

And I was like, “Word?”

She was like, “Fo’ real. Milwaukee is a working class city, dawg. I don’t pee in gutters.”

So I was all, “I heard dat. Girl, you into the old po’nography?”

She was like, “Naw, naw. I like the new pornography and birds, yo.”

“Word, word.”

Then she was like, “You some kina Republican or sumpin’?”

And I was all, “Bitch, please!”

“Sorry, yo. I guess I be all sex’ly harassin’ ya’ll.”

“S’all good, baby. You know.”

And she was like, “You so smart, like in my dreams.”

“For sho’, fo sho’.”

Then she was all, “Aiight, I gosta go to the strips clubz, boyee.”

“S’all good.”

“Then I’m goin’ all up on vacation.”

“Word.”

Then she left. But then later she came back and was like, “I gost some kina weird creature growing all up inside me.”

And I was like, “Damn, girl. You best git dat checked out.”

“Word.”

And word, indeed (“baby”).

True story. Practically.

That’s Lauren in the shell of a nut.

Also, I bet she eats really fresh cheese.