I remember this feeling. It’s surreal. An unacceptable nauseous reality that seems to fall from the clear blue sky. Despite the fact that we know and accept that death is an inescapable event of life there is a gross violation of unwritten law when the good die young.

It happened when I lost my childhood friend to AIDS in 1997. It happened 2010 when I learned of Ronnie’s accident, and it happened again this Monday night when the news spread that Paul succumbed to his life long fight.

I won’t profess to know Paul well; most of my interactions with him were social and involved quick-witted gabs about fraternal affiliations. We’d laugh and go our separate ways. I never saw him sweat, ever; and though my miniscule surface view of a life filled with so much more than the comings and goings of undergraduate college life can’t begin to serve due justice or honor a life cut short, it has resonated with me throughout the week.

Managing the collateral damage of death is difficult and complex. The ones who hurt the most tend to be the very same whose strength is necessary for the welfare of others, the list of questions highly outnumber the pool of answers, and in the midst of the confusion and sadness we miss our friend. Time should stop, but it doesn’t. Memories bring joy and pain. I stood in lobby of my gym stuck, unsure what to do next in the revelation that life ends too soon.

I didn’t plan to write this week but the news of Paul’s death has stuck with me all week. I can’t help but consider what I’m doing with my life, with my effort and with my time. I trust God and I know that His plan is perfect even when it hurts, and I don’t believe in forecasting what the deceased would say or think but I can’t help believing that given the events of this week…Paul would make better use of my life, of my time than I.

All of this to say, rather than intoxicating our sorrows or limiting our efforts to ink stenciled memorials let’s honor Paul with our time. There are no words to sedate the shock and awe of death, but all too often I find myself on the couch, in the bed, or out doing nothing…accomplishing nothing. 10,080 minutes go by in a week and too often I leave them unfulfilled. I can’t help but think that Frankie, that Ron, that Paul know the true value and would maximize on the most valuable comity too many of us take for granted. Time. So I will work, I will grow, I will love and I will fill those moments of laziness, distain and self-pity with life in memory of Paul.

God bless the mourning hearts from Ohio to New Jersey and beyond. May your memories bring you joy in a time of incomprehensible grief. I leave you with this anecdote and the frequent words of my mentor:

“Imagine there is a bank account that credits your account each morning with $86,400. It carries over no balance from day to day.
Every evening the bank deletes whatever part of the balance you failed to use during the day. What would you do? Draw out every cent, of course? 
Each of us has such a bank. Its name is TIME. 
Every morning, it credits you with 86,400 seconds. 
Every night it writes off as lost, whatever of this you have failed to invest to a good purpose. 
It carries over no balance. It allows no over draft. Each day it opens a new account for you. Each night it burns the remains of the day. 
If you fail to use the day’s deposits, the loss is yours. There is no drawing against “tomorrow.”
You must live in the present on today’s deposits. Invest it so as to get from it the utmost in health, happiness and success! 
The clock is running!! Make the most of today.”

I hope you live before you die.

Mr. Karver

I can’t control how much money I make. I can only control how hard I work. If she respects what I do and respects me as the head of the household, then we’re good. Money won’t make me a good father, money won’t make me more faithful to my wife or God, and money won’t make me a better leader. Unless she’s uses her salary as a tool to exercise power, we’re good. I love my work, so I’m going to say no about being a stay at home Dad, unless I could keep making my art. However I don’t mind partnering with my wife to raise our kids together. I’m down for cooking and cleaning and whatever else the media says that men don’t do around the house.

Why do men cheat?

The same reason women do, we’re just a little more careless. Why yall work so hard to cheat?! All that planning, cover-ups and such…rigggght lol

Why do men lie?

The same reason women do…actually, nah. Cause we don’t wanna hear what you’d have to say if we told you the truth. *cues Jody* “I only lie cause I luh you guhl!!”

Why do you say nothing’s wrong when we ask you? Is it because you don’t want to open up and be “emotional”?

Because at the end of the day yall ain’t tryna hear that, you say you do but you don’t. Hell, I’ve been called emotional 3 times in the last 2 weeks just for being visibly mad lol. Most women unintentionally model their emotional behavior off the things they study and observe, which in most cases is crap like RHOA, Love & Hip Hop and other trash you hear in popular music. If you don’t know how to tend to a man or his feelings what’s the point in us sharing?

I’ve always kept my emotions within. Generally, I think it comes from not trusting other people to take care of my feelings. I also don’t do very well with conveying them, and they are often misinterpreted. Other occasions, I simply don’t want to have another argument so I just talk about her later to my boys or do something to get it off my mind.

Why would you mistreat someone you love?

In the past I have mistreated those that I love, simply because I mistreated myself. It’s hard to treat a person with respect when you don’t demand it for yourself.

Could you see yourself marrying or even dating a woman with 2 children by 2 different men?

I hate to sound cynical, but absolutely not. Marrying a woman, let alone dating her, when she has one child is already something I don’t think I could handle. That “babydaddy” will always be in the picture. I also feel like I won’t love that child like I would my own. Not saying that she couldn’t be an amazing woman and I wouldn’t learn to love her children, I just don’t want to have to deal with the drama.

Of course not. That sounds like a huge headache in my single, no kids, drama free mind right now. But that’s why you can’t judge a book by it’s cover. Before July 13, 2010, I couldn’t see myself living in LA, but 18 days later on July 31st, I left my girlfriend, apartment (that was still under lease), and my family to move to LA with no family and $440. Everybody deserves a fair shot at real love, but let’s find out if we’re even compatible before talking about kids please. Thanks.

What are your life goals and aspirations?

My life goal has always been to become successful. Not the type of successful that too many of our generation settle for. I want assets. I want to be able to look back on my life and be able to say, ” I did it”. My ultimate goal is to be able to take care of my loved ones and live comfortably.

How does God play a role in your life?

There was a point where I thought He did, but He didn’t. You learn a lot about yourself growing up as a black man, particularly from society. One of the main things I remember learning is that you’re not much of a man unless you’re sexually taking advantage of women. Sobriety is weak, monogamy is pointless and most Godly principles are lame and outdated…He’ll forgive you anyway. I’ve reshaped my life and try to include God in every decision I make; what used to seem so spiritual and churchy now just seems practical. It’s a relationship like any other romantic or platonic affiliation.

Why don’t you just leave me alone and what do you want?

Clearly I want you since I won’t leave you alone, and I won’t leave you alone because either a) you’re too fine to give up so easily, b) I’ve got nothing better to do, or c) you’re playing along, giving me just enough reason to keep hope alive. I vote C.

How important is a big booty and a smile, really?

May I defer to Sir Mix A-Lot or 2Chainz? This isn’t important enough for me to answer.

Not very, truthfully I’m more concerned with the smile than the cheeks. There was a point when that was in the top 5 of most important traits but none of that is gonna support me or our (eventual) family, unless well…and I’m not looking for that.

—-Karver Bradshaw

A man can only go so long without having his needs met.

And yes, I am talking about sex. I need to have sex everyday. I would appreciate it once in the morning and then again before night night time. Also, can a brotha get some mid day action?! Sheesh. Sexual frustration is the pits these days, especially as a young adult, when all these women are looking to settle down. They usually want to settle down the sex too.

So, just what is this young black man blessed with an amazing libido supposed to do?!

Focus on getting his needs met right?! Exactly! I knew you’d feel me. No pun intended. So, for the better amount of the past three years, that’s precisely what I have been doing. Focusing on my needs. By not having sex.

Yes. You read right, by not having sex. This commitment started out as an attempt to keep my heart pure. I was tired of feeling like a hypocrite in my relationship with Christ. I am aware that everyday I do and say hypocritical things in reference to my walk with Christ, but I am trying, day by day, to limit the obvious instances when I do so, while asking for guidance to see more.

But, I am not here to talk about Jesus.

The longest period of time I previously abstained from sex was for 3 months. And that was only because I was on summer break during college working 3rd shift, living back home with my parents. Needless to say, the transition into being abstinent wasn’t the easiest. Especially while still having a fine girlfriend.

However, it got easier.

Not having sex opened up my eyes to help me actually see myself. For the first time in my life, I was getting to know myself. It didn’t take to long to realize that sex had become a coping mechanism, a way to achieve the intimacy I needed from my mother with other women, and a selfish desire to please myself at any costs.

Sex does complicate things.

Now when I meet women, I can see them for who they really are. Once I would have sex with them, I could no longer see that they were selfish, or manipulative, or even how incompatible we were, simply because of our sexual chemistry. Sex gave me such cloudy vision. I also am more productive these days. I would end my studies early or stop writing a song, to entertain a girl who was coming over. It might take 3-6 chill sessions (last from 3- 6 hours) to sell myself to them before we had sex. I wasted so much valuable time, chasing lies.

Yup, I was that guy. The one your mom warned you about.

I’ve had to face a lot of those demons over the past three years also. I can’t tell you how many facebook messages, texts, and phone calls I’ve had to make to apologize for how I treated so many queens out there. Now, it’s ever more clear to me that since my emotional needs were not getting met, I didn’t know how to love myself.
I’ve learned that if love was an ice cream sundae, sex would be the cherry on top.

I used to love saving the cherry for last. But have you ever went to a Steak N Shake and gotten a cup full of cherries? You’ll always want more. And that’s how sex is. You’ll never get enough, unless you have love. Then sex will become a want, and not so much a need. And I don’t know about you, but cherries can do nothing for me on these hot summer days. Give me that sundae swag.

I hope you live before you die,
Antoine J. Edmonson

BLOG: Letterstoohio.com
TWITTER: @AntoineEdmonson
FB: Antoine Edmonson
IG: @AntoineEdmonson

Is it truly impossible for a man and woman to be alone without playing Hide and go Seek: Puberty Edition?? Men and women can’t be friends without ulterior motive? Are we really THAT simple?! I’ve heard it said once that to believe that a man can, and is solely focused on a platonic relationship is to buy into the notion that we as a society, and that man in particular, are foolishly ignoring the way that God made us by dressing it up as being “progressive”. Uh. Progressive? Liberal or not there’s some women I wouldn’t procreate with if human race depended on it. Seriously.

A couple weeks ago I was sent into this tirade, per usual, by the flick of the thumb while attempting to amuse myself on twitter when a self-described “Life & Relationship Coach” went on a soapbox rant about how men can’t be trusted with women and vice versa and you’re a fool to think otherwise. He goes on to say that the term platonic is merely used to “pacify you” and that if your man “even has a female friend (it) is the first sign of disloyalty. The moment she says ‘let’s do it’…he will.”

Really?! Disloyalty? Instant bump n’ grind?! Now I won’t act like the notion is completely unfounded, but I’ve sat in many a room and had the age old conversation of the list of chicks that wouldn’t stand a chance on their most generous day, that every man has been a part of at one point or another…and don’t try to pretend you ladies haven’t had them either. Point being, are we really gonna pretend that it’s THAT simple? “You girl, me guy. Me likey lady parts, me have no control over man zone. We hump now.” Cause if it is, I need to know why there’s so much unadulterated thirst between IG, twitter, and FB. One like ought to be a guarantee if that’s the case; I mean, if it’s that simple I’d think we’d all be humping…all the time.

I understand there will always be that one girl who is evvvvverybody’s “sister” in the streets annnd their late night liaison in the sheets but damn just cause she fast and you got by your last dude doesn’t mean every female wants your man! (Unless he’s me God forbid your dude get cool with your friends, now what? Yall caking, dating, engaged, married and you’re gonna what, keep him locked in a closet anytime your friends come over and you need to use the bathroom because otherwise it’d be sure to initiate an instant orgy??

What about his co-workers? Her childhood friend from down the street who always looked out for her growing up? You can’t guard your significant other from interacting with people of the opposite sex, and frankly if you feel like you have to, you miggggght wanna let them walk. If the person you’re dating has friends with interlocking body parts, just ask about them and trust that what you’re hearing is the truth. How your partner handles those friendships is more telling than any amount of management or “damage control” you can do from afar. Eh, but what do I know…I’m just a progressive vaginal obsessed guy in a relationship with a gang of female friends that I can’t wait to hump given the space and opportunity. Pay me no mind.

Blessing and Platonic Chastity Belts,
Mr. Karver

Some of the many requirements many women demand from us males this day and age. Ok, some of them are little far fetched (although there are times when I feel like the only way to receive recognition is to defeat MegaTron.) Disclaimer: I am not saying that common courtesy should be abandoned. I, for one, still open the car door for my lady. So please spare me the “I am every Woman” banter. Far too often, men are ridiculed for missing the small cues for tackling the larger mundane tasks.

Take compliments for example. No matter if she has on her dashiki hair wrap complimented by her ashy black sweatpants from middle school complete with bleach stains and all, or the most glamorous outfit imaginable, thou shall always compliment thine lady with utmost vigor and glory. I have no issue complimenting my lady, even if it is an outfit she’s worn before; but does you putting on a different anklet thus creating an entirely new ensemble mean need to express all the thirst in the world all over again?! The part I struggle with is why don’t compliments hold their merit? Better yet, why are they considered a necessity? You know you look good girl, does my confirmation really matter?

Apparently it does, because let me forget to…not even forget, let me not “mean it”. Even if I pour my heart out about her ascending beauty: if it ain’t on IG, it ain’t happen. So what’s the problem, you say? If I know all those things are required, why not just oblige and make her happy? Well, you’re looking at the picture upside down. It’s not that I won’t, it’s that if I don’t do it all the time, every single time, on beckon call and cue I’m the bad guy that doesn’t appreciate you shining bright like a diamond right in front of my face. I call you beautiful, you say “awe thanks babe” and are happy for the next 13 minutes. But let me not compliment you again, in the same sitting, and you’re downright pissed for the next 13 days. Why does BigMoneyBagsDrippinSwagoo_69’s consistent “likes” mean more than the guy who just worked 13 hours overtime to kindly hand it over to the lady behind the counter at Michael Kors?

Why haven’t you liked my picture yet?

Ladies, if we didn’t think you were the creme de le creme, would we be with you? We love you, and appreciate you and all your worth…there’s just a fine line between flattery and worship. When we say you look pretty, there isn’t an expiration date. If I said you were pretty the first time I met you, you’re still that same pretty person I fell in love with. You shouldn’t need 173 likes for affirmation.

Take a man’s compliment the same way you would if you put on a pair of pants and found $20 in it. Sure $20 won’t bump you into a higher tax bracket, but it’s a pleasant surprise. Nor would you have lost $20 had you not selected those pants to wear that day. That $20 is and will always be worth 2,000 pennies. Matter of fact, let’s equate those “likes” to a dollar value. If each like was worth $0.01 (which would be overvalued as is) it would take 2,000 of them to equal 1 from your man. Maybe the problem is your obsession with accumulating pennies, ignoring the $20 you’ve already been given. Those likes aren’t going to open the door, pump the gas, carry the groceries and keep you warm at night. Jussayin, but you look good though girl… *le sigh*

…because for a man to be right is to ask for war at your doorstep. You know how full of crap you ladies are for promoting that ridiculous phrase? I’d love to meet the first woman who ever asserted and spread that false gospel. The only positive I take from that is that by slight of hand, you all accccccidentally admitted how much of a pain you ladies have the capacity to be. I mean think about it: happy wife happy life? So basically if you’re not satisfied the world ends…what a bratty attitude. What a terribly sick, twisted, selfish attitude.

What’s crazy is, half of you believe it annnnnd you’re proud of it! You know how many arguments guys chalk up for the sheer prospect of peace?! Many a gentlemen hath forfeited a righteous quarrel so you’ll shut up, puff out your chest with an undeserved sense of entitled victory and leave the room so we can watch the game in serenity. I’m just curious: do you girls know that you’re full of it or do you truly sell out to the notion that the world goes your way? And better still, why can’t we get away with an L?

I’d like to issue a challenge to women everywhere, it’s a simple process. Go to the mirror. Look yourself in the eye and say, “I’m wrong and I’m sorry.” Then some time this week when you and your dude or the guy you call when nights get cold get into it (because you will, trust me), simply say the phrase that pays. I’m wrong. I’d issue the same challenge to the guys buuuut we’ve had plenty of practice. On behalf of guys everywhere, I’d like you to see what it feels like to simply admit defeat, bow out and say I’m sorry I was wrong…especially if you were right.

Be blessed…and sorry,
Mr. Karver

1.) Know Your Limits – In college, many of us learn the limits when it comes to liquor, life will teach you your limits when it comes to living. From freshman to senior year I found time to study, kick it, work out, cake, road trip, network and still somehow find time to kick it with energy to spare. I’ma tell you right now…those days are over. I’m still trying to figure out how I pulled that off! Put it like this: you’re gonna go to work (everyday) and make plans to do things after work like exercise or go out that you’ll inevitably cancel because suddenly, you won’t feel like it. Trust me. Many of you will end up with a second job to support that spending habit or supplement that primary income that isn’t quite as high as you thought it’d be and everything outside of work just won’t matter. And for those of you vehemently rebuking that possibility, let’s move to my next point: Ladies and Gents. Ms. Mae.

2.) Pay Sally and Know Your Rights – Great Lakes. ESCI. And of course Sally “Gone On And Cut Me In On That Gula” Mae. They comin. You got 6 months, six blissful stress free months before Sally come looking for that money so you better get ready now. Get used to making timely payments if you haven’t already. I wouldn’t stack up any substantial amount unnecessary revolving debt…for that matter I’d pull my credit report if you haven’t already in the past 6 months, just for perspective (www.annualcreditreport.com is the free pull you get from all 3 major bureaus once a calendar year. You’re welcome.) Other words you may want to learn: forbearance, deferment…did I mention forbearance? And know the difference, that interest ain’t goin away homie.

3.) Your Friend’s Job? Can’t Emmn Worry Bout It – I can only speak for myself on this one, though I know many a person who lived this life. Back in June of 2010 I was so happy to graduate I hadn’t focused on anything else. Literally. I didn’t know I should have been looking for my ideal job four, five months prior. I had a job, my resume was pretty solid, I was guaranteed to find a dope gig to fulfill my three year plan of working before heading back to school…until I didn’t. Over the next year I watched as my friends and I, who are no bums mind you, unsuccessfully search for (what we deemed as) suitable jobs. We had something close to a 20% success rate. We all landed gigs, but not ones we really wanted. Moral of the story: some of you will fail and some of you will immediately flourish and if you don’t have a job offer right outta the gate…

4.) Don’t Give Up the Dream – One of those good friends job hopped for a good 7 months until he landed at his firm. Magic and pixie dust does not come included with your diploma so waving the magic wand of “college grad” won’t always produce like you think it might. Even still, know your worth and pursue the calling you’ve invested __ years in. Even if you land a job you hate that’s outside of your specialty in order to pay the rent stay focused on the end goal and never make that negotiable. I ended up as a platform banker and if you know me, a bank is the LAST place I belong so eventually I picked up my stuff, re-wrote the plan and pursued the goal sooner than designed.

5.) You Determine Your Worth After 5 – From roughly 8-5 you’ll pour into some company all of your wit and talent and skill, striving to make a name and reputation for yourself that will provide you opportunities for career growth and of course income. What no one will tell you is that it’s the habits you form after you clock-out that truly determine your worth. It’s the people who stay abreast of important topics in the field, and do supplemental reading and study who move along in life. Don’t allow what you do put a price on your head. The jackass who makes 80K and treats people like crap is likely to lead a sadly unfulfilled life than the guy who makes just enough to pay the bills but is a pleasure to be around. Invest in yourself. Ground yourself in solid foundation and surround yourself with likeminded people who aren’t satisfied with the goings on of today.
Dream Big. Plan Accordingly. Work Hard. Walk in your Legacy.

Congratulations Grads
Mr. Karver

I saw an interesting post from DeCouray this week that made me laugh and think all at once. A quant little split screen of Jay and Beyonce in two separate instances, looking over at the other’s phone. I laughed because as a man in relationship, I’ve had the urge and (say what you will) even gone through a phone on occasion in past relationships. It also made me wonder, what does it really mean to be concerned so much about what’s going on in your significant other’s phone that you just gots to see who this is lighting up their phone?

There’s a few schools of thought surrounding the concept, here’s the big 3….
1.) Chicks who are worried about their dude’s phone are well, innately female and at worst nosey women looking for something to cause trouble about. (Which most of you are quite proficient at)
2.) Men are insecure bitches. (Besides, we ain’t pose to luh deez heaux anyway)
3.) You care too much.
Agree or not, I think it’s safe to say we’ve all heard at least two of these in passing. At some level we’ve all been there, you rapping with the homie and mid-conversation they start textin; laughin to themselves and such and there you are awkwardly standing there talking to yourself secretly wondering what the hell is so funny? And there’s nothing more annoying than that one friend who doesn’t have the restraint nor shame to keep from leeeeeeaning on over and welcoming themselves to your inbox. So it’s not just couples, it’s a people thing but for the sake of entertaining conversation let’s look at it…

It seems females have banded together to draft a holy document of commandments for men regarding phones. Thou shalt not text past 11pm. Thine phone shall not worship false gods, but will at all times faceth upward towards the heavens. And of course, if thine lady hath not thine password, ye need not haveth one. Basically ya’ll just gave yourselves free reign to our joints! We laugh, you suddenly have the right to know who, what, when and why any human has our number in the first place…and don’t let it be a female…who follows you on any social network…and you follow her back…

It’s funny (and incredibly appropriate) that the first thing I think of when you say “man looking through a phone” is Drake’s line from Lord Knows:

“It’s your worst nightmare, it’s my first night here/
And this girl right here, who knows what she knows?/
So I’m going through her phone if she go to the bathroom/
And her purse right there, I don’t trust these hoes at all”

So let’s say your dude isn’t Drake, he’s not going through your phone but every time that joint lights up during the RHWOA reunion…he lookin. Watchin. He’s come to accept the female cell phone commandments for himself, what now?! If Drake can do it can’t we all?! lol Is it the sneakiness or the mistrust that gets to you ladies cause for so many of yall to be cracking that password for your dude’s phone, y’all shooooo hate it if and when your inbox becomes our inbox. Eh, on the upside, at least he cares enough to check…

Which brings us to the last point, what does it all mean?? Insecurities or plain curiosity? Mistrust or an act of emotional investment? I’ve heard both sides and can say I see both sides of the coin though motive plays a huuuuge role in how that goes. Does your main have the password to your phone?? If not what does that mean, if they do does that really signify anything? I don’t have the answer but it’s certainly something to explore within a relationship; that, and that Jayonce’ photo is hilarious if you ask me! Let’s see how this plays out in my mentions…which my girl has the password to, oh the irony lol

Be Blessed
Mr. Kahhhvah

Facebook is really annoying. I mean REALLY annoying. I still remember getting ready to go to college and being nearly as excited to sign up for facebook as I was to move out of my mother’s house. Now it’s flooded with farm requests, birthday requests, baby mama requests. STOP IT, just stop it with the damn requests!! Seems like everyday there’s some crap in my news feed that I could care less about and 68% of the people posting it I don’t even know!! Folks like Pontinqua”TooBlessed ToBeStressedWitDeezHoes”Johnson…WHY ARE WE EVEN FACEBOOK FRIENDS?! WHERE IN LIFE DID I CROSS PATHS WITH YOU AND DECIDE BEING FB FRIENDS WAS A GOOD IDEA?! Curse my younger days of adding random attractive women from my other friend’s photo albums. I can only assume most of them were impregnated, angered and now have no time to be stressed by deez hoes.

Know what else sucks? Music. Not all music just mainly that developed by, for, and gorilla marketed by us black folk. I like a good time as much as anybody, trust me, but WHY must everything we play from 5:01p on Friday until 7:59a on Monday require you to be drunk to either A) relate to it or B) enjoy it?! Half the crap we promote in these songs we wouldn’t want done to our own sisters or daughters but come Saturday… we’re all suddenly in drunken agreement that she should “just make me cum/then don’t make a sound.” Jussayin, I got enough homies with young daughters that hearing that should be FAR more disturbing than it is… On that note, some of you shouldn’t drink. That or you should seriously consider how much of an idiot you look like while out in public. I went to a friend’s birthday party this past weekend and this guy I had NEVER met before attempted to continue this alcohol fueled conversation with me like we were the best of friends! Now I’m not a mean person so I played along for a while but brah, if you don’t know me by first name…we ain’t cool and there ain’t much to discuss. No one wants you drunkenly invading their space; your breath is much hotter than you likely anticipate that it is, and chances have it, you don’t realize that you’re spitting with every word that fumbles out of your mouth.

Secondly, if you’re over the age of 23 or have a salary job can you stop passing out everywhere…every weekend…all the time?? Save it for homecoming, your birthday, a bachelor party…heck NOT AT ALL! And please spare us the miraculous photographic evidence with optimal angles and filters for your IG post, they’re laughing at you not with you. You should be old enough to manage what you drink that consistently passing out isn’t the aim, and if it is, as a therapist in training…I seriously urge you to visit www.ncadd.org/
Well. There that was. Probably not that interesting but you read it so I can’t worry about it. Maybe I’ll do better next week…maybe.

You Have a Blessings Request From,
Mr. Karver