My loving husband, aka the Gangsta Rappa Vernstein, has come up with a delcious poem about my previous city of residence. The conversation started with how someone stole my birth-mother's new bedroom slippers from her hospital room in lovely Spartanburg SC. Check it out...

Vern:" And how could you think a fine metropolis like Sparkle City could have such low-lifes?! Where's the love for your old abode?"

Sista Gurl: "No love for that city, me thinks it's pretty sh*tty! "

Vern: "Half of it looks like a crack shack,
so there's no need to move back.

It's a 1980's scum hole,
it's where you live to work that dance pole.

Dirty streets and no downtown,
no wonder them folks all look like clowns!

That's all of my Sparkle City rap,
now y'all know why that place is crap!"

Sista Gurl: Top that bouyeess...gimme sum geecheee Schroer Goat!