moesha got married in a secret wedding.

she emailed me to see if she did the right thing.

i emailed back saying, no she didnt do the right thing.

she picked up her cell phone, didnt say hi, just said, why not?

i said cuz most secret weddings dont work out, especially those by pop superstars who are only doing it because they want to get from out of their Church director father’s grasp. especially those who want to feel ok about having sex. lots of sex.

she said, why you got to be like that?

i said, just keeping it real, baby.

she said, you dont even know my husband.

i said, if you had married that Boyz II Men guy that you were dating for a while, then ok, i would have said ok. but to marry your producer? i give it six months.

she said, youre so mean.

i said, oh, defensive? i give it five months.

she said, ha! we were married last june.

i said, tick tock, cinderella.

she said, stop that! you dont even know me.

i said, your tv show was cancelled, you passed out from “exhaustion” a few years ago, you’ve won a Grammy, you’ve been in movies, you’re about to come out with a new record and you’re 22 years old…

she said, im gonna be 23 on monday.

i said, fine, you’re 23. even though you’ve sold 8 million records, you have much more left to live and having your producer play house with you isnt really gonna do much for you.

she said, so what should i do?

i said, look at that guy in the face and say to yourself, im going to look at that fool for the rest of my life, im going to pick up his dirty shorts, im going to get him dr. pepper in the middle of the night. im going to hear him chuckle after he rips a fart.

and then sing.

people love it when singers sound like they’re dying inside.