In a world where public appearance is absolute, I exist in the best terms that I can — celebrating beauty. And little fuschia stain all around the rim rim rim, just to let you know I’m bout it-bout it. Not that you care for a silly rhyme frontin’ an old cliché, but you have just accessed the NEW ORDER. Hold onto your wigs. This is a bust. Kind of like Bonnie and Clyde, Cecil and I. “The strangest damned gang you ever heard of.” We don’t really fight. I’m sitting back just chilling. My job ain’t a job, it’s a d*** good time. They call us entertainment, but Sham is not flower.