Wooosahhhh, I Gotta Dance

"So much trouble in the world," as the prophet Bob Marley told us. Between slick oil dealers dodging toxic shock in the gulf and cops capping little black girls like target practice in Detroit, this shit can make you holler. Loudly.

But every now and then, I get this affirmation that all we need is love and a good rub-a-dub. A nice slow grind with someone who loves you. I mean someone who really digs you. That person who will have a face-to-face when your morning breath is kicking seriously.

Now and again, everyone needs to be swept off their feet. Rub your honey's crusted feet or if you are one penny ahead of the recession, take'em out tonight. And this does include those who have been a little, ahem, should I say generous with the booty and cock-a-doodle doo. Hell, hoes need loving too.

So, as I type my life away on a beautiful sunny day in New Jersey, I offer you a chance to slow grind in your office chair. It's okay, I ain't gonna tell.