Does this curb make my butt look fat?

And, Brutha Ministah said, “Let there be curb.”

And, there was curb.

Yes, you fine folks with attention for ‘broad banner across the top’ detail have noticed the curb. Being a person of simple pleasures, I’ve longed for and harassed the ever-loving sh!t out of my friend, Brutha Ministah, for a decent photo of a curb for months now. I’m simple like that. While some may wish for exotic puke it up in your cabin cruises across the Caribbean and others want the latest in high tech gadgetry, me? I just wanted a curb.

B.M. (again, not to be confused with Bowel Movement) made the irreversible mistake of mentioning his latest hobby of photography…not one but two! fancy pants cameras, periodic purchases of lenses crafted with chips off the Hope diamond, and general bragging of The Quality, Oh The Quality.

I’ve wanted to slap a curb up top since beginning this blogging adventure. But, I wanted The Quality, Oh The Quality, not some grainy, pixelated by the hands of cavemen crap my camera would cough up.

So, I pushed the boundaries of friendship and let not one minute pass between us without mention of a curb.

Hey, dee. How’s it going?

Curb.

Anything new with you, dee?

Curb.

I’m having all of my organs transplanted next week.

Curb.

I suppose he was not eager to roll around on his belly in the street for my curb request.

Finally, my haggling paid off last week when he emailed some kicka$$ curbs from the streets of Little Rock, Arkansas. When I asked if anyone noticed his odd behavior of pointing his camera at curbs, “Many people noticed.” I take full responsibility for lowering his cool factor by 40 points.

I’ve already hit him up for my next blogging adventure….On The Men’s Urinal.