The middle aged god Skip Class is back up in here once again to cook up some marvelous joints for you all to ponder with your mentals. Nah mean? When I'm not penning lavish scrolls and studying my various lessons your boy can be found dolo in Seattle—usually eating a sandwich, high as fuck on some coffee trying to think of ideas for pieces that aren't totally terribly terrible. It's not the most formal process, but that's just how your boy does it. During my regular routine that allows me to whip up Pulitzer Prize winning journalism I remembered an old idea I had. I can't quite remember when, but around maybe, say, my early 20's I was 1000% convinced that you could sum up anybody's personality by who their favorite Wu-Tang member was. I know that sounds like some hilariously wild dumb shit, but I've found that more often than not this little theory of mine works out. They say you are who you surround yourself with or however that fortune cookie shit goes. And that may be true, but what my theory presupposes is that you are who you are based simply on which Killer Bee you fuck with the most heavy. Follow along as I distill this raw Wu personality science down to its purest molten lava form. Enter the personality test.