Drum roll, please.
Are you ready?
OH YEAH!! WHO'S JEALOUS NOW, BITCHAAZ??!
This morning I am suffering from an acute case of 21 Jumpstreet Marathon Overload. It's like a bad hangover. There's a skull-splitting headache and a taste like the cat took a poo in my mouth, but the additional side effects include a desperate desire to rat my hair, wear one mismatched, long earring, pull on the slashed, acid-washed jeans, and bust some high school punks.
If you catch me reminiscing about how I once infiltrated a gang of car thieves operating out of a high school shop class or cracked a Catholic School coke ring, please remind me that wasn't actually me, but the leading characters on...
"JUMP! Twenty-one Jumpstreeeet! I said, JUMP! Down on Jump Streeeeet..."