NEW IN BLOGZ FROM THE DESK OF J-ZONE: There’s nothing softer than an adult engaged in an hour-long text conversation. Especially when it’s a man attempting to gauge if he’s in line to get some drawers from the woman he’s texting. That shit is downright disgusting; nigga, put some bass in your voice. In the days of Pay Phone Pimpin’ none of this fruitcake shit was happening. Yes, pay phones. Call that broad up. You’ll know where the fuck you stand in four minutes (five if you have an extra nickel to extend the time). To my chagrin, pay phones are slowly going the way of the quetzalcoatlus and so is straight-to-the-point communication.