RIP Phife, the 5-foot assassin, the greatest #2 in rap history, the earthly balance to the abstract, more hits than the Braves and the Yankees.
10 years absent today.
Back when the whole plane watched the same movie, me, another girl, and an older white business traveler in the same row were all captivated and sobbing over Freedom Writers
I’ve probably shed tears on, conservatively, 70% of the flights I’ve ever taken. Happy to go somewhere? Sad to be leaving? Emotional? Watching Mad Men? Listening to Carole King or Kasey Musgraves? I’m crying, baby