<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763697296086943044</id><updated>2011-07-07T17:09:51.249-07:00</updated><title type='text'>_hustlher</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>hustlher.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17360137649085088837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2iqfN1o7YTU/Shyl4LxK4OI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iZ7qKaMdEZY/S220/doit4.png'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763697296086943044.post-4870688196554129296</id><published>2010-01-07T20:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T20:50:58.784-08:00</updated><title type='text'>&amp;youknowIdontgiveafuckcuzitsmyBIRFDAY!</title><content type='html'>So normally? I dont get maaaaaad excited about my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;but for some reason, I had a feeling this would be the best birthday ever.&lt;br /&gt;normally on january 7th you can find me at the crib pigging out on red velvet cake. &lt;br /&gt;but this year? nawl buddy. I KNEW somethin else was in store.&lt;br /&gt;I never get gifts.&lt;br /&gt;I never get money.&lt;br /&gt;the most I ever get is a loooong list of HAPPY BIRTHDAY'S on my facebook wall.&lt;br /&gt;my birthday started off on twitter.&lt;br /&gt;by 12:17 I had [yup, I counted] 37 HAPPY BIRTHDAY tweets lol so awesome.&lt;br /&gt;And guess who one was from???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i46.tinypic.com/2hhdblu.png"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YUP! WIZ KHALIFA!!!!&lt;br /&gt;I was TOTALLY amped. man oh man, word's cant even EXPRESS!&lt;br /&gt;Thank you wiz =]&lt;br /&gt;I went to sleep completely and utterly BAFFLED!&lt;br /&gt;Woke up the next morning, kinda pissed I had to go to work.&lt;br /&gt;I work at kids footlocker. I get a phone call from REGULAR footlocker&lt;br /&gt;from down the hall.&lt;br /&gt;my mall boo is like "KASH! COME DOWN HERE QUICK! I NEED YOUR HELP!"&lt;br /&gt;So I drop what i'm doing in my store, and guess what he hands me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i45.tinypic.com/2my3nf4.png"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TOO CUTE RIGHT!? &lt;3 I know!&lt;br /&gt;about 45 minutes later my other mall boo comes and hands me this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i47.tinypic.com/14wdtw1.png"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BIG ASS COOKIE CAKE! &lt;3 YUM!&lt;br /&gt;right before I get off one of my sister's friends come in my job.&lt;br /&gt;Im thinkin he wants to use my discount as always right?&lt;br /&gt;WRONG!&lt;br /&gt;he hands me this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i50.tinypic.com/4hxqis.png"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SWHING!&lt;br /&gt;I get off of work at 2:30pm&lt;br /&gt;then HE picks me up. [he shall remain anonymous]&lt;br /&gt;and he takes me to the natural history museum!&lt;br /&gt;NOTE: i fucking LOVE museums. we were spose to go to the art museum too,&lt;br /&gt;but it ended up closing on us =[&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i50.tinypic.com/dvn02w.png"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fucking loved it, to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;Then afterwards? FUCKING RED LOBSTER!&lt;br /&gt;We were aiming for Olive Garden, since I had never been,&lt;br /&gt;but he wanted to do the not so smart thing and NOT listen to me when I told him&lt;br /&gt;THAT OLIVE GARDEN DIDNT EXIST IN THE PLACE WE WERE ANYMORE lol.&lt;br /&gt;so we were driving in circles tryna find it lol.&lt;br /&gt;and eventually just settled for red lobster.&lt;br /&gt;he ended up bring THIS bag in with him:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i47.tinypic.com/2ef84mf.png"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the whole time IM staring like WTF IS IN THIS BISH! lmfao.&lt;br /&gt;after dinner, I order desert right? &lt;br /&gt;guess what red lobster has? KEY LIME PIE! JACKPOT!!!&lt;br /&gt;and whats better than KEY LIME PIE? umm...FREE KEY LIME PIE! lol&lt;br /&gt;the waitress said it was on her =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i50.tinypic.com/332qz4o.png"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally? Its time to open my gift!&lt;br /&gt;what is it, you ask?&lt;br /&gt;watch this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i48.tinypic.com/2ahgq5f.png"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there was EVER a DVD that combined everything I needed to survive in it...&lt;br /&gt;this was it.&lt;br /&gt;SNEAKERS x HIP HOP? best fucking birthday present ever.&lt;br /&gt;and thats real.&lt;br /&gt;came back to the crib.&lt;br /&gt;fell asleep in his arms while watching the first 48 lol.&lt;br /&gt;and now im here...sharing my story with YOU folks.&lt;br /&gt;My 20th birthday = epic fucking WIN.&lt;br /&gt;#tigerwoodsfistpump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the call from my brother sto'mac and the text from my big bro K-Nyce were a coupla highlights too. =]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5763697296086943044-4870688196554129296?l=uptownhustlher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/feeds/4870688196554129296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2010/01/so-normally-i-dont-get-maaaaaad-excited.html#comment-form' title='37 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/4870688196554129296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/4870688196554129296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2010/01/so-normally-i-dont-get-maaaaaad-excited.html' title='&amp;youknowIdontgiveafuckcuzitsmyBIRFDAY!'/><author><name>hustlher.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17360137649085088837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2iqfN1o7YTU/Shyl4LxK4OI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iZ7qKaMdEZY/S220/doit4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i46.tinypic.com/2hhdblu_th.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>37</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763697296086943044.post-2677861919243258266</id><published>2009-12-21T00:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T01:05:55.288-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's 4 in the morning.</title><content type='html'>and i'm up making gucci mane graphics.&lt;br /&gt;and drinkin TAMPICO mango punch.&lt;br /&gt;life is great LOL.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not even a big gucci fan, but &lt;3 he &lt;3 suggested I use him.&lt;br /&gt;I felt uncomfortable working with a picture of him with his shirt off.&lt;br /&gt;that nigga gucci built like a PT CRUISER.&lt;br /&gt;Question;&lt;br /&gt;when was the last time I blogged about something RELEVENT? smh.&lt;br /&gt;I need to start blogging EVERYDAY like i'm suppose to.&lt;br /&gt;But I swear it's just too much shit goin on.&lt;br /&gt;AND my pretendo music player on the side&lt;br /&gt;----------------------&gt;&lt;br /&gt;isnt working.&lt;br /&gt;so I'm something like pissed right now.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted you guys to jam to SO ICY with me.&lt;br /&gt;-_- #kanyeshrug&lt;br /&gt;sidenote: the hashtag has become a part of my normal daily routine.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Twitter.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks a lot.&lt;br /&gt;and fuck your mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sidenote:&lt;br /&gt;this made me fucking laugh lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i49.tinypic.com/2eyxuly.png"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5763697296086943044-2677861919243258266?l=uptownhustlher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/feeds/2677861919243258266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-4-in-morning.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/2677861919243258266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/2677861919243258266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-4-in-morning.html' title='It&apos;s 4 in the morning.'/><author><name>hustlher.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17360137649085088837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2iqfN1o7YTU/Shyl4LxK4OI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iZ7qKaMdEZY/S220/doit4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i49.tinypic.com/2eyxuly_th.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763697296086943044.post-6738476535537969214</id><published>2009-12-03T20:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T21:13:05.188-08:00</updated><title type='text'>life 2.0.</title><content type='html'>One day leads into the next, and then another.&lt;br /&gt;And then I realize...I'm stuck.&lt;br /&gt;Stuck in the same position, the same way of livin.&lt;br /&gt;Stuck with this same life, Same ole' conditions.&lt;br /&gt;No new propositions.&lt;br /&gt;All my days are planned.&lt;br /&gt;I live like a old woman, so all my days are bland.&lt;br /&gt;Graphic after graphic after workin' for the man.&lt;br /&gt;Everyday's a fucking hassle and I witness them first hand.&lt;br /&gt;One day leads into the next, and then another.&lt;br /&gt;And then I realize...I'm stuck.&lt;br /&gt;No main love, so I'm chasin' after wealth.&lt;br /&gt;Nobody to hug, so I'm lovin on myself.&lt;br /&gt;What to do when the one you love doesn't even like you?&lt;br /&gt;Chicks dont know behind the scenes, so they wanna be just like you.&lt;br /&gt;One day leads into the next, and then another.&lt;br /&gt;And then I realize...I'm stuck.&lt;br /&gt;But how dare you complain when the checks are comin' through?&lt;br /&gt;And why feel bad when everybody's ya friend?&lt;br /&gt;Cuz nobody really knows how the pain all unfolds,&lt;br /&gt;So you're ungrateful when you say you wish this lifestyle would end?&lt;br /&gt;Some call it the life. Me? I call it misery.&lt;br /&gt;I got a gut feelin' this lifestyle just wasn't meant for me.&lt;br /&gt;Too scared to change, switch, or re-arrange.&lt;br /&gt;Dont WANNA break my routine, so shit just stays the same.&lt;br /&gt;Seems like i'm already married. Social Death is my wife.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one day I'll work up the courage to go on a date with LIFE.&lt;br /&gt;One day leads into the next, and then another.&lt;br /&gt;And then I realize...Tough luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5763697296086943044-6738476535537969214?l=uptownhustlher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/feeds/6738476535537969214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/12/life-20.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/6738476535537969214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/6738476535537969214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/12/life-20.html' title='life 2.0.'/><author><name>hustlher.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17360137649085088837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2iqfN1o7YTU/Shyl4LxK4OI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iZ7qKaMdEZY/S220/doit4.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763697296086943044.post-243094830099231077</id><published>2009-11-18T19:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T20:13:24.333-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuck In The Friend Zone.</title><content type='html'>So, this has been happening ALL YEAR.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure exactly whats wrong with me, but I can NOT advance for some reason.&lt;br /&gt;I've had 2 main "interests" this year as far as males go [one whom I've given up on, the other i'm talking to right now], and BOTH of them believe I'm just way too awesome to be in a relationship with =|&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm not slow. SO, this is what's going on.&lt;br /&gt;1. They're talking to someone else and dont wanna tell me.&lt;br /&gt;2. They don't like me that way, and dont wanna hurt my feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the first person says "you're way too cool, thats why I didnt wanna fuck with you. You're too nice and I know how I can be towards females". Sounds mad considerate and dope right? Well then why is he trying to talk to someone ELSE right now whom I know. They're equally nice. So, she's a better person to hurt than me? I dont know, it all sounds crazy. You say one thing, but turn around and contradict yourself. I let it go. I'm not even on it no more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 2nd person? I've had a huuuuuuuge crush on for close to TWO YEARS now! I finally had a breakthrough this past weekend, and we've been going hard. and u know what he tells me? "I cant make you my girlfriend. its for your own good. you're way too dope. me knowing the kind of person I am this is gonna end up all bad. I want you to be like, my best friend though."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-sighs.&lt;br /&gt;if i'm not the BEST FRIEND, im the LITTLE SIS. everyone keeps reassuring me that im SUCH a GREAT and ILL person, but NO ONE is showing it. And further more, I thought the person u were with WAS suppose to be something like a best friend. *shrugs*. but whatever. =/ It is what it is I suppose. Do I have to be a Grade A Fancy BITCH in order for me to be able to get that close with the person I really want to? Do I have to STOP being "cool"? If I was some kind of snotnose cuntbitch un-awesome type of person, would I have things my way? I dont understand how someone can be "TOO cool" for you to be with? I'm really starting to think that people are lying to me to spare my feelings. Here's a tip to any guys in the future...If you dont like me, dont act like you do, just say you dont. I promise you, i'll survive. And if by chance the person I'm talking to now IS telling the truth. PLEASE explain to me how I can stop being so awesome so that you can open your eyes and realize that I deserve a chance. I just dont understand. I cant win...I cant win.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5763697296086943044-243094830099231077?l=uptownhustlher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/feeds/243094830099231077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/11/stuck-in-friend-zone.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/243094830099231077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/243094830099231077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/11/stuck-in-friend-zone.html' title='Stuck In The Friend Zone.'/><author><name>hustlher.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17360137649085088837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2iqfN1o7YTU/Shyl4LxK4OI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iZ7qKaMdEZY/S220/doit4.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763697296086943044.post-5245356922970560770</id><published>2009-11-10T20:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T20:02:10.066-08:00</updated><title type='text'>KASH BUTTA INTERVIEW w/ MZ. CRAZY TEE</title><content type='html'>Good Afternoon Kash Butta , Let the people know  the story behind your name?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha! It's actually a pretty lame story. I had a friend who had a little rap for me. "Kash Butta, Skin smoove like butta, when she walk her booty stutter". I used to tell my friend at school Tiffany about it, and one day she actually HEARD him say it. Then SHE started calling me Kash Butta lol. Next thing I know, the whole school and even TEACHERS were calling me Kash Butta lol the name just stuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So your obviously making noise in the city , what exactly do you do? Are you apart of any association &amp; if so whom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man oh man, -laughs. I do SO much lol. I think lots of people know me for my art. I do a lot of graphic designs for people around the city. D.J. K-Nyce, D.J. Corey Grand, Ray Cash, Tropikana. But I draw as well, I was actually drawing BEFORE I started getting into graphic design. I dont think i DO art though, i LIVE art. I do spoken word, I've won many local poetry contests. I also have my own online podcast radio show called Illdividual RADIO, which'll be coming back pretty soon to the netwaves. OH! and can't forget about my sneaker collecting lol. I mean, yeah, basically I'm just a chubby girl with a lilttle bit of style...and a paintbrush. Other than my art thing though, I'm 1/4th of The AP Class [CLE]. I'm also Swagganautz [NYC], and GoECK [Misc.] affiliated. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your inspiration? Who or what gave you the mind set to go for your dreams?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think im my biggest inspiration. All that I've been through in my life, all I've overcome, and all I've accomplished gives me even MORE motivation to do even BETTER. I'm inspired by other Cleveland artists as well though. McFrezco [www.mcfrezcocandoit.com] and I went to the same school. I remember when I used to be WAY better than him in Graphic Design lol I was ill with it before he even STARTED. and NOW look -laughs. It just shows you how great you can really be if you put your mind too it. So he motivates me a lot. He used to ask me photoshop tips...now I ask HIM to do MY logos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I know that you are into music but not just any music, the people want to know what’s in Kash’s iPod ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh nah, not just ANY music! I'm a BIG music head though. Not even just a hip hop head, but a music head. I listen to everything from Chip tha Ripper, to Nas. I love Vampire weekend, then I'll turn around and listen to some Talib Kweli. Turn that off, vibe to some Smashing Pumpkins, then start bumpin' some Britney Spears and decide I really feel like listening to Devin the Dude LOL! I'm all over the place man. Music is so essential in EVERYTHING I do. Right now I'm waiting on *cough*MZ CRAZY TEE'S MIXTAPE*COUGH* which is going to be BANANAS! I've been vibing out to a guy named L.E. from Columbus lately too. He has a mixtape called Anti-Parachute theory which is soooo dope. I'd advise anyone to go DL that. It's actually a LOT of good music out right now, I could go on forever...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do you consider yourself a Rising Star ? What makes you believe you have what it takes to play amongst the stars?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good question. I consider myself a rising star because I think I have the potential to be great. Im not the VERY BEST radio host. or the VERY BEST graphic designer. But I do me, despite what anyone thinks, and I work HARD at EVERYTHING that I do, and at the end of the day, people see that and appreciate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Less than 50 words. Please explain to me  what your definition of art is?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Art Is Life". I got you in 3 words lol. I mean, just look around you. Look at all the objects you're surrounded by. Computers, chairs, random stuff. People fail to realize that every OBJECT that exists...was just a picture before it was created. A picture that someone drew. Everything. Everything around you IS art. Art is life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Explain a typical day of yours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wake up, shower. No time for breakfast. Work. Come Home. Clean anything if need, then I'm doing my show. Working on a few pieces, all while listening to music, of course, dinner maybe, sleep, then I'm doing it all over. My life is one big constant cohesive grind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any last words, or shout outs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes! I have to give shoutouts to EVERYONE that supports me in what I do. You, of course. The AP Class, Varsity Squad, Go Eck [cool a** kids yo, be on the look out...], Swagganautz, YBRR, L.E. for the Uncool, Supra Star Tee, Young Miz, man oh man, SO MANY PEOPLE! As far as last words. Hmm. If you're not living on the edge, you're taking up too much space! CARPE DIEM! PLAN for tomorrow, but Live like there may not be one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5763697296086943044-5245356922970560770?l=uptownhustlher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/feeds/5245356922970560770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/11/kash-butta-interview-w-mz-crazy-tee.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/5245356922970560770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/5245356922970560770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/11/kash-butta-interview-w-mz-crazy-tee.html' title='KASH BUTTA INTERVIEW w/ MZ. CRAZY TEE'/><author><name>hustlher.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17360137649085088837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2iqfN1o7YTU/Shyl4LxK4OI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iZ7qKaMdEZY/S220/doit4.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763697296086943044.post-7388025125476365235</id><published>2009-11-10T19:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T19:49:07.122-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life x I need an ASSISTANT!</title><content type='html'>LIFE:&lt;br /&gt;There's so many things I wanna do. It's good to have dreams, but why does it seem like I want so much in SO little time and way too fast? Probably because I do. =[ I have my "KICKS FOR KIDS" foundation I'm trying to get off the ground. Tryna get THE AP CLASS together as far as parties and all the graphics we may need. Swagganautz is gonna be needing some new designs pretty soon, and I have about 4 customers I'm working with right now as far as my graphic design career is concerned. Not to mention I'm working fulltime [last week I worked 56 hours], and cleaning/doinglaundry/shoppingfortheapartment on my days off. There's no me time. And everyday im faced with NEW challenges and NEW tasks from MORE people and today for the first time I finally had to say "No...I cant do it." And it was for someone that I really love, so that hurt even more =[ People with many dreams and ambition are not ORDINARY people. But what, may I ask, is the price of immortality. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which leads me to my next topic:&lt;br /&gt;I NEED AN ASSISTANT:&lt;br /&gt;I really do, like, ASAP. and i'll pay you. contact me if you're interested. *sighs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5763697296086943044-7388025125476365235?l=uptownhustlher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/feeds/7388025125476365235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/11/life-x-i-need-assistant.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/7388025125476365235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/7388025125476365235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/11/life-x-i-need-assistant.html' title='Life x I need an ASSISTANT!'/><author><name>hustlher.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17360137649085088837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2iqfN1o7YTU/Shyl4LxK4OI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iZ7qKaMdEZY/S220/doit4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763697296086943044.post-45087606619008679</id><published>2009-11-05T16:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T16:48:35.873-08:00</updated><title type='text'>random old poem:</title><content type='html'>designer bags filled with designer clothes.&lt;br /&gt;grind, eat, sleep, shop, all a hustlher knows.&lt;br /&gt;kinda hard to fight back from materialistic blows,&lt;br /&gt;so I give in, now i'm laced from my head to my toes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;coach on my wrist, man.&lt;br /&gt;iced out wristbands.&lt;br /&gt;louis V earrings.&lt;br /&gt;gold rings on my fist, man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all the latest kicks, imma sneak freak.&lt;br /&gt;niggas see my cinematic life, satisfied with the sneak peak.&lt;br /&gt;got the strength of lavish labels but im still weak. &lt;br /&gt;no love of my own, no relationship, love life still bleak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;money can't buy happiness...explains why I'm still sad.&lt;br /&gt;if money makes one envious, I see why these hoes mad.&lt;br /&gt;but little do they know despite my kicks and my ill swag,&lt;br /&gt;insecurity's the reason I still brag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cuz happiness is overpowered by the birken bags.&lt;br /&gt;and fresh mike's has replaced all of the love i've had.&lt;br /&gt;now im heartless on the kanye tip,&lt;br /&gt;only love I got is my love for fresh threads and dope kicks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so at night, I sleep with my clothes by my side.&lt;br /&gt;my wardrobe is what keeps me warm through the night.&lt;br /&gt;my vanity's what keeps me from fashion insanity.&lt;br /&gt;my money's what keeps all these broke broads mad at me.&lt;br /&gt;damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;funny how you could have everything, but be empty and all.&lt;br /&gt;how you on top of the world but still feel so small?&lt;br /&gt;got enough steez to bottle it up and sell it to wack kids.&lt;br /&gt;but the only question people pop at you is "paper or plastic"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got no love, but I got cash.&lt;br /&gt;got no companionship, but I pop tags.&lt;br /&gt;got nobody to really love me cuz I love my wealth&lt;br /&gt;and every night I pray that I could grow to love myself...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5763697296086943044-45087606619008679?l=uptownhustlher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/feeds/45087606619008679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/11/random-old-poem.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/45087606619008679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/45087606619008679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/11/random-old-poem.html' title='random old poem:'/><author><name>hustlher.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17360137649085088837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2iqfN1o7YTU/Shyl4LxK4OI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iZ7qKaMdEZY/S220/doit4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763697296086943044.post-8209070851354564566</id><published>2009-11-04T21:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T21:29:56.437-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Im Feelin Like I'm BACK!</title><content type='html'>Yo Yo Yo!&lt;br /&gt;Its been a LONG time since I've blogged last.&lt;br /&gt;I sorta had an epiphany today and was like:&lt;br /&gt;"YOU KNOW WHAT?! I WANNA BLOG, NIGGA!"&lt;br /&gt;so thats what i'm doing.&lt;br /&gt;pretty awesome of me right?&lt;br /&gt;Soooo um. follow or read or stare or&lt;br /&gt;whatever it is you wanna do.&lt;br /&gt;More posts coming soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5763697296086943044-8209070851354564566?l=uptownhustlher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/feeds/8209070851354564566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/11/im-feelin-like-im-back.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/8209070851354564566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/8209070851354564566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/11/im-feelin-like-im-back.html' title='Im Feelin Like I&apos;m BACK!'/><author><name>hustlher.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17360137649085088837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2iqfN1o7YTU/Shyl4LxK4OI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iZ7qKaMdEZY/S220/doit4.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763697296086943044.post-859971888242375340</id><published>2009-06-10T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T20:23:48.188-07:00</updated><title type='text'>kashbutta x relationships.</title><content type='html'>why am I always so quick to rush into relationships?&lt;br /&gt;in all my previous relationships, we've always rushed and gotten together.&lt;br /&gt;know what those relationships all have in common? THEY ALL ENDED.&lt;br /&gt;so now, I'm just tryna take things slow I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;right now, there are SO many guys on my plate.&lt;br /&gt;[only one in particular im REALLY considering though]&lt;br /&gt;but the more I put off getting with him, the more Im starting to feel like "wow, the single life is whats REALLY for me!"&lt;br /&gt;and in a way, I kind of think it is.&lt;br /&gt;I havent really found everything i've been looking for in ONE person yet.&lt;br /&gt;and instead of settling, I think i'm gonna go on a journey and actually FIND this person. Yep...I think thats the plan.&lt;br /&gt;I guess being in a relationship makes me feel like Im wanted.&lt;br /&gt;but shit, at this point in my life, I dont care rather im wanted or not.&lt;br /&gt;Im just chillin and really not on it no more.&lt;br /&gt;lets see where this takes me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5763697296086943044-859971888242375340?l=uptownhustlher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/feeds/859971888242375340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/06/kashbutta-x-relationships.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/859971888242375340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/859971888242375340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/06/kashbutta-x-relationships.html' title='kashbutta x relationships.'/><author><name>hustlher.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17360137649085088837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2iqfN1o7YTU/Shyl4LxK4OI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iZ7qKaMdEZY/S220/doit4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763697296086943044.post-3298853201442305313</id><published>2009-06-01T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T22:58:37.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...and still got time to blawg.</title><content type='html'>random:&lt;br /&gt;internet bitches are mad funny.&lt;br /&gt;my ex came up to my job today lol shoutout to dre dre behbay! LOL&lt;br /&gt;being on the phone with imari is mad funny lol, he's so dreamy.&lt;br /&gt;wtf is rashauny pooh doing right now? &gt;=[&lt;br /&gt;I got zay callin bitches "lil smutty" LOL&lt;br /&gt;I cant wait til that kudi x asher x bob show!&lt;br /&gt;this cherry limeade is fucking DOING IT right now. whew!&lt;br /&gt;its 1:53 :|&lt;br /&gt;im going to the beach with my lil sister's class tommorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;umm. thats it for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sidenote.&lt;br /&gt;look at his sausage lips =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i42.tinypic.com/10gbwc4.png"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5763697296086943044-3298853201442305313?l=uptownhustlher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/feeds/3298853201442305313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/06/and-still-got-time-to-blawg.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/3298853201442305313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/3298853201442305313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/06/and-still-got-time-to-blawg.html' title='...and still got time to blawg.'/><author><name>hustlher.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17360137649085088837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2iqfN1o7YTU/Shyl4LxK4OI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iZ7qKaMdEZY/S220/doit4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i42.tinypic.com/10gbwc4_th.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763697296086943044.post-841634533429034822</id><published>2009-05-30T20:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T20:38:48.051-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I miss my daddy =[</title><content type='html'>soooo, my dad has been away from me for way too long.&lt;br /&gt;I havent seen him in almost a year.&lt;br /&gt;last time I saw him, I cried like a huuuuge baby when he had to go.&lt;br /&gt;you'da thought I was 5 or some shit.&lt;br /&gt;but I really wanted him to stay =[&lt;br /&gt;and u know whats funny about the whole situation?&lt;br /&gt;I never call him.&lt;br /&gt;ever.&lt;br /&gt;you'd think because I miss him so much, I'd call him&lt;br /&gt;but in all actuality, hearing his voice and not being able to hug him hurts even more than not hearing him at all.&lt;br /&gt;so I don't call =[&lt;br /&gt;me and my dad have a very special relationship.&lt;br /&gt;it all started when I was 6 years old.&lt;br /&gt;up until I was 6. he was just a guy.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I lived with him, we laughed, watched tv together, blah blah, but still...we didn't have a relationship that went too far beyond daughter and father.&lt;br /&gt;my dad and mom split up when I was 6.&lt;br /&gt;the day he decided to leave...he kidnapped me =| lol.&lt;br /&gt;I was scared as shit! lol, but at the same time, wasnt...because I knew he didnt wanna harm me.&lt;br /&gt;Just didnt want me to NOT be living with him anymore.&lt;br /&gt;he picked me up from school that day and said &lt;br /&gt;"we're not going home"&lt;br /&gt;we went over to my uncle's house, and there we stayed.&lt;br /&gt;not knowing that my mom had NO clue where I was, I just relaxed and chilled.&lt;br /&gt;he took me back home later that night, and he cried on our way home.&lt;br /&gt;I had never seen my daddy cry before...ever. not once BEFORE that situation...and not once AFTER. funerals...injuries...nothing. NEVER...EVER...seen him cry, just that one time.&lt;br /&gt;he road down some street and parked. I had no idea where I was.&lt;br /&gt;"you know I love you right?"&lt;br /&gt;"yeah"&lt;br /&gt;"you know I'll never leave you right?"&lt;br /&gt;"yeah..."&lt;br /&gt;tears started to form in my eyes...I knew where this was headed.&lt;br /&gt;he hugged me, started the car back up, and we went "home".&lt;br /&gt;Red and blue lights flashed on my street. the closer we got, the more I realized those lights were directly infront of MY house.&lt;br /&gt;we pulled up, got out the car, and walked up to the house.&lt;br /&gt;my mom ran out the house and smacked him harder than I had ever seen anybody smack anyone before, right before the police started to question him.&lt;br /&gt;she hugged me.&lt;br /&gt;he peeped at me through the police officers...I peeped back.&lt;br /&gt;and there we stared at each other.&lt;br /&gt;me, not paying attention to her. him, not paying attention to the police.&lt;br /&gt;just us...looking, and saying "i love you, too" with our eyes only.&lt;br /&gt;yeah...that's a vidid memory i'll NEVER forget.&lt;br /&gt;I miss my daddy =[ and sometimes...sometimes I just wish he'd come back home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5763697296086943044-841634533429034822?l=uptownhustlher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/feeds/841634533429034822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-miss-my-daddy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/841634533429034822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/841634533429034822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-miss-my-daddy.html' title='I miss my daddy =['/><author><name>hustlher.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17360137649085088837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2iqfN1o7YTU/Shyl4LxK4OI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iZ7qKaMdEZY/S220/doit4.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763697296086943044.post-2161040590547397366</id><published>2009-05-29T19:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T20:04:47.501-07:00</updated><title type='text'>nobody takes me seriously.</title><content type='html'>so I tell people I want to come out with a mixtape.&lt;br /&gt;they look at me like "here we go, another wannabe rapper" lol.&lt;br /&gt;I guess that is the current aspiration of every black person alive damn near.&lt;br /&gt;but fuck it.&lt;br /&gt;i'll do me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5763697296086943044-2161040590547397366?l=uptownhustlher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/feeds/2161040590547397366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/05/nobody-takes-me-seriously.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/2161040590547397366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/2161040590547397366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/05/nobody-takes-me-seriously.html' title='nobody takes me seriously.'/><author><name>hustlher.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17360137649085088837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2iqfN1o7YTU/Shyl4LxK4OI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iZ7qKaMdEZY/S220/doit4.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763697296086943044.post-707950268097613937</id><published>2009-05-28T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T20:07:37.784-07:00</updated><title type='text'>random.</title><content type='html'>im fucking exhausted from work.&lt;br /&gt;ate 2 89cent chicken burritos. fucking banged.&lt;br /&gt;lol @ adina and how she pulled the sympathy card and started talking about her father after I demolished her shit.&lt;br /&gt;yeah your fathers dead and all...but you're still a slut lol.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how it makes him feel to know that his daughter's a whore and there's nothing he can do about it?&lt;br /&gt;malicious.&lt;br /&gt;im a little upset with imari. not a whole bunch...but...a lil bit.&lt;br /&gt;I heard drake on the radio today...does that officially make him commercial? O_o&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5763697296086943044-707950268097613937?l=uptownhustlher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/feeds/707950268097613937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/05/random.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/707950268097613937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/707950268097613937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/05/random.html' title='random.'/><author><name>hustlher.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17360137649085088837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2iqfN1o7YTU/Shyl4LxK4OI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iZ7qKaMdEZY/S220/doit4.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763697296086943044.post-2313942965790265011</id><published>2009-05-27T17:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T17:49:07.744-07:00</updated><title type='text'>speaking of friendships...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i43.tinypic.com/2eoh2tl.jpg"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;this guy right here is my rashauny pooh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;we go hard for a minute...then fall off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;then pick it back up and go hard some more.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;more recently, we've been falling off. I dont like it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;he has a life. I kinda have one too. things just happen, ya know?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;but we've both agreed to not fall off anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;hopefully we both can keep up our own end of the bargain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and finish developing this long lasting friendship I know we can have.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5763697296086943044-2313942965790265011?l=uptownhustlher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/feeds/2313942965790265011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/05/speaking-of-friendships.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/2313942965790265011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/2313942965790265011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/05/speaking-of-friendships.html' title='speaking of friendships...'/><author><name>hustlher.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17360137649085088837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2iqfN1o7YTU/Shyl4LxK4OI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iZ7qKaMdEZY/S220/doit4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i43.tinypic.com/2eoh2tl_th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763697296086943044.post-8812029672663374273</id><published>2009-05-27T11:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T12:01:21.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my philosphy on friendship.</title><content type='html'>TRUE friendship always overcomes obstacles.&lt;div&gt;TRUE friendship endures forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;TRUE friendship never parishes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and if it does.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;shit was non-existent from jump.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;sidenote.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v155/201/99/1415970028/n1415970028_30002901_849.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;he looks awesome in suits.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5763697296086943044-8812029672663374273?l=uptownhustlher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/feeds/8812029672663374273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-philosphy-on-friendship.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/8812029672663374273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/8812029672663374273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-philosphy-on-friendship.html' title='my philosphy on friendship.'/><author><name>hustlher.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17360137649085088837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2iqfN1o7YTU/Shyl4LxK4OI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iZ7qKaMdEZY/S220/doit4.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763697296086943044.post-1659130575396114747</id><published>2009-05-26T21:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T21:55:24.691-07:00</updated><title type='text'>some shit I gotta get off my chest.</title><content type='html'>so there's this fake bitch going around tryna blow down on people lol.&lt;div&gt;some of you may know her, some may not...her name's adina.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;also known as "supreme sole" lol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;bitch is faker than a 3 dollar bill, and that's word to big bird.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and fyi, momma...3 pairs of sb's dont make you a sneaker head lol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you got 9 DECENT pairs of kicks...sit down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;some of you may be thinking "oh wait, I know her! she's a sweetheart!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;yeah...that's what I thought too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;looks can be deceiving. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now normally, I'd leave a bum bitch to her bum bitch ways.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but lately, this broad has been rubbing me the wrong way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. I'm STILL feeling some type of way about her and the man she chose to steal from one of my close friends. and supposedly...one of HER close friends. but you a real bitch? lmao. and he's a whore of a man to drive all the way from cleveland...to GEORGIA...for some sour puss lol. you can tell him kash said it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. little did you know that everytime my ex flirted with you? it was because I told him to...JUST to see if you'd flirt back. and low and behold...you did. just like the snake in the grass type whore you are. shame on you. and you really thought he liked you too lol. oh p.s., you can have him now. been there, done that. on to bigger and better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. you def. tried to put my nigga jay on blast lol, all because of a joke that your ass couldn't take. this nigga says something that's suppose to be taken lightly, and your ass gets odee emotional out this bitch on some "Fuck you, nigga" type shit lol. wasn't never that serious ma. calm the sentimental shit down. Not ONLY were you feeling some type of way when it happened...but you were STILL feeling some type of way a week LATER, because you decided to post a little blog about it. how fucking wack. Then tried to air out his business too, like that would cause emotional damage lol. all you did was make yourself look like the douche of the year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;this is the last i'mma speak about you, though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;imma let you go about your little 'headed no where' life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;imma let you go about posting your dumbass blogs attempting to hurt feelings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;imma EVEN let you go about being a internet whore lol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but just remember. karma's a big bitch. not as big as you...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://i40.tinypic.com/350vuxj.png" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but a big bitch, never the less.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and i'm gone...now let that bitch breathe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;after you look at this bitch feet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://i40.tinypic.com/2eyum4j.png" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;babe...are those corns? =|&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5763697296086943044-1659130575396114747?l=uptownhustlher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/feeds/1659130575396114747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/05/some-shit-i-gotta-get-off-my-chest.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/1659130575396114747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/1659130575396114747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/05/some-shit-i-gotta-get-off-my-chest.html' title='some shit I gotta get off my chest.'/><author><name>hustlher.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17360137649085088837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2iqfN1o7YTU/Shyl4LxK4OI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iZ7qKaMdEZY/S220/doit4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i40.tinypic.com/350vuxj_th.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5763697296086943044.post-3457522240144768387</id><published>2009-05-26T19:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T19:51:30.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the kid is back!</title><content type='html'>damn this feels good. =]&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;somethin come soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5763697296086943044-3457522240144768387?l=uptownhustlher.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/feeds/3457522240144768387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/05/kid-is-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/3457522240144768387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5763697296086943044/posts/default/3457522240144768387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uptownhustlher.blogspot.com/2009/05/kid-is-back.html' title='the kid is back!'/><author><name>hustlher.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17360137649085088837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2iqfN1o7YTU/Shyl4LxK4OI/AAAAAAAAAAM/iZ7qKaMdEZY/S220/doit4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
