‘I Guess’ is Kathy Iandoli’s battle cry of #shruglife. It’s everything that impresses us and unimpresses us—which could be one in the same given the day.

From Nicki and Cardi’s beef hitting shoe-throwing levels to losing one of hip-hop’s brightest young stars, September has been a terrible month…and we’re not even halfway done with it yet.

I used to know a family that would watch house fires for fun.

Their father owned one of those transistor radios that would report all of the incidences happening in the area, and once they heard the words “house fire” they would pile into their car to go stare at it. Shops weren’t sacred either. Any fire, they were there.

I remember one night I was at their house and the radio started buzzing with news of a house fire happening within a mile of their home. You would’ve thought they were firefighters the way they scattered and headed to their car. I was only 10 years old, so it wasn’t like they could leave me there alone while they went to engage in their heinous pastime, so I was stuck going.

Even at that age, I felt gross. House fire hunting is like next level rubbernecking following a car accident. At least with rubbernecking, the gawkers are forced to keep driving. They don’t stop, get out of their cars, inspect the wrecked vehicles. (Actually, someone did this to me once and it was so bizarre.) With house fire hunting, people literally just stand around, converse, shake their heads and stare. Firemen from other local departments come, too. Like, this is an actual thing. I stood there so bewildered while everyone stood there chatting and looking so pleased as ashes wafted through the air. I even remember the story behind the fire, too. This particular family had a live-in nanny who lived in the finished basement that they converted into an apartment for her. She was a pottery enthusiast and had one of those ovens to bake what she made. The oven shorted and caused a fire. The entire house burned down to the ground.

I eventually felt guilty standing there watching—mainly because my mind wandered to thinking about all of the toys the kids lost—so I went and sat in the car. I never hung out with that family again.

We are not even halfway through September, and I feel like I did at 10 years old, standing there staring at that house fire. Everyone is going through it, and we’re all just kind of staring.

This month has already been a lot.

Eminem released Kamikaze and it feels like it’s already gone, despite thinking that it would be lingering once Machine Gun Kelly dropped an Em diss track and Joe Budden dropped a diss podcast. I don’t even like saying “diss podcast” but, regardless, Budden had #bars.

Then Nas wrote some long letter about Kelis in seven parts on his Instagram account about how she lied about the abuse claims. Meanwhile, he was having a big ass party for Nasir right under the bridge in Queens right around the time Kelis did that now-infamous interview.

Then Kanye had his petite Yeezy slides made fun of in August, so he joined Lil Pump for the “I Love It” video in which he’s wearing gigantic ones as they rap obscene lyrics timed to Kanye’s directorial debut at the Pornhub Awards. This was right after he cried on Chicago radio. I can’t tell what’s going on in his head, but he did allude to a Watch The Throne 2 over Twitter, so it’s like what? What’s happening here? Does Jay know?

Then we lost Mac Miller, which is so devastating because, as so many of us can attest to, he was not only a gifted musician but a really great guy. I’ve been seeing a lot of “I wonder if Mac knew how loved he was.” I wonder the same, especially when people found it so important to mention what a wreck he was following his breakup with Ariana Grande.

Then poor Ariana Grande gets trolled and accused of causing his death, like she needs that pressure having dealt with mental health issues of her own.

Then Nicki Minaj apparently stepped on Cardi B’s dress train at the Harper’s Bazaar ICONS party at New York Fashion Week, so Cardi threw a shoe at Nicki, yet ended up with a knot on her forehead. Then she took to Instagram to finish it all off.

Then apparently Mary J. Blige and Faith Evans fought, which…I don’t even know.

And then, Drake and Meek Mill finally ended their beef during the Boston stop of Drake’s tour.

Seriously, look at these events. And this is strictly kept to music. We didn’t discuss sports, politics, microfinance in third world countries… We could do this all day, yet the musical events alone are enough to make you slap your forehead like, WTF? And, yeah, so far so good with Drake and Meek making peace but, even with that, the internet is already buzzing and hoping that Nicki unravels at this news. Why does that energy even need to enter this hip-hop truce? Even in the midst of something good, there’s a hope that someone gets hurt.

It’s a lot like that house fire. People don’t ride up to these things in the hopes that a few shots of water hit a window and everyone goes home safe and sound. No, they want it to burn to the ground so they can sit and look at it.

Voyeurs of tragedy live both on and offline. We’re all guilty of it. Maybe we’re not jumping into cars to watch house fires (well, sadly I had to once), but we do bear witness to a ton of train wrecks at a distance in the lives of celebrities, while offering our own opinions on what they can/can’t or should/shouldn’t do. And then when shit hits the fan, the collective “oh my!” envelopes the atmosphere, despite willing the bullshit into existence.

So, yeah, that’s my hot take on a bunch of hot takes. This month has been a steaming pile of garbage, and we aren’t even done yet. If this is how we’re kicking off the last four months of 2018, then send it out the fucking door early because I’m good, luv. Enjoy.

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