This video is one that I have posted elsewhere but thought I'd throw up here for a bit of nostalgia.
Most holidays at Ainsley's folks house include a musicfest of some sort - usually the epic kind. Moroccas, djembes, guitars, an upright bass, a keyboard, more mics than are humanly necessary, meticulously organized songbooks the size of Texas and and ecclectic and diverse group of guests comprise these evenings.
To mix things up a few years back, I thought I'd beatbox during an intermission from the music.
1. At the request of Ainsley's germophobic father, I was forced to use a tissue to prevent any chance of slobber ending up on the precious microphone.
2. Ainsley's mom was the main act. This entire rap was freestyled and her references to "the boy" throughout refer to a nickname given to me until our wedding day, when I could be regarded on a first name basis.