After Drake’s performance at the Crypto.com Arena in Los Angeles on Tuesday, August 22, Sasha and Malia Obama went to his after-party at Bird Streets Club.
The two children of former President Barack Obama reportedly liked Drizzy and 21 Savage’s It’s All a Blur Tour’s final L.A. show, according to Page Six. Sasha, a 22-year-old graduate of the University of Southern California, donned cargo leggings and a short black corset.
Malia, her sister of 25 years, paired a loudly printed high-waisted flared pair of trousers with a translucent Knwls top. About four in the morning, two housemates from Los Angeles left the Bird Streets Club.
Following his performances in Los Angeles, Drake threw afterparties for other famous people. Recently, Dennis Graham, Saweetie’s father, and Anderson Paak attended.
Barack Obama called Drake a “talented” person who “seems to be able to do anything he wants” in his 2020 360 With Speedy Morman.
Obama co-signed Drizzy’s prior statement that he would be open to playing the former president in a biopic.He remarked, “You know what, Drake has my household’s seal of approval—more importantly, I think.””I think Malia and Sasha would approve of it.”
Sasha and Malia like Drake, even though their father doesn’t always listen to him. In fact, Obama’s yearly summer playlist featured him lately, owing to the J Hus song “Who Told You.”
Along with “Princess Diana” by Ice Spice and Nicki Minaj, “Drums” by Babyface Ray and Money Man were also included on the list.
Obama was questioned earlier this year by Hasan Minhaj about whether or not he was the real author of those well-known playlists.
He said, “People believe the books and the movies,” and then made a joke about people not playing along with him when he made these playlists. “However, the playlists seem to think—and this is primarily from young people like you—that you guys developed hip-hop and rock ‘n’ roll. Therefore, people seem to assume that, “Well, he must have had some 20-year-old intern who was figuring out this latest cut,” even though my lists are, you know, quite remarkable. No, dude. Right now, it’s on my iPad.”
I Felt Disappointed That My Grandfather Left Me Just an Old Apiary, but My Perspective Changed When I Inspected the Beehives
My late grandfather, a master storyteller who spun tales of buried treasure, left me a rather unexpected inheritance: a dusty old apiary. It felt like a cruel joke at first. Who would leave their grandchild a shack swarming with bees? My resentment lingered until the day I finally ventured into the beehives.
One typical morning, Aunt Daphne urged me to pack my bag for school, but I was too busy texting a friend about the upcoming dance and my crush, Scott. When she mentioned my grandfather’s dreams for me, my frustration grew. I had no interest in tending to his bees; I just wanted to enjoy my teenage life.
The next day, Aunt Daphne chastised me for my neglect, threatening to ground me. She insisted that caring for the apiary was part of my responsibility. Despite my protests, I reluctantly agreed to check on the hives. Donning protective gear, I opened the first hive, my heart racing. A bee stung my glove, and for a moment, I considered quitting. But a rush of determination took over, and I pressed on, hoping to show Aunt Daphne I could handle this.
While harvesting honey, I discovered a weathered plastic bag containing a faded map. Excited, I tucked it into my pocket and raced home to grab my bike. Following the map, I pedaled into the woods, recalling my grandfather’s stories that had once enchanted me.
I found myself in a clearing resembling a scene from one of his tales—the old gamekeeper’s house stood before me, decaying but still captivating. Memories flooded back of lazy afternoons spent there, listening to his stories. Touching the gnarled tree nearby, I recalled his playful warnings about the gnomes that supposedly lurked in the woods.
Inside the forgotten cabin, I uncovered a beautifully carved metal box. Inside was a note from Grandpa: “To my dear Robyn, this box contains a treasure for you, but do not open it until your journey’s true end” Though tempted, I knew I had to honor his wishes.
After exploring further, I realized I was lost and panic set in. Remembering Grandpa’s advice to stay calm, I pressed on, searching for a familiar path. Eventually, I stumbled upon the bridge he often spoke of, but it felt further away than I had hoped. Exhausted and disoriented, I collapsed beneath a tree, longing for home.
The next morning, determined to find my way, I recalled Grandpa’s lessons as I navigated through the wilderness. I found a river but was startled when I slipped into the icy water. Fighting against the current, I finally managed to cling to a log, eventually dragging myself to shore.
Soaked and trembling, I rummaged through my backpack, only to find stale crumbs. When I remembered Grandpa’s wisdom, I used healing leaves for my cuts and continued onward, drawn by the sound of rushing water. I finally reached the river again, but the water was treacherous. Desperate, I knelt to drink, but the current swept me away, and I found myself struggling against the powerful flow.
Determined not to give up, I let go of my backpack but clung to the metal box. With sheer will, I fought my way to the bank, finally escaping the icy grasp of the river. I needed shelter, so I built a makeshift one from branches under a sturdy oak tree.
The next morning, I set out once more, the metal box feeling like my only lifeline. Memories of fishing trips with Grandpa warmed me, urging me forward. When I finally spotted the bridge, hope surged within me. But the forest began to close in around me, confusion and despair threatening to overwhelm me. Just when I thought I couldn’t go on, I found a clearing and collapsed, utterly spent.
Then, I heard voices calling my name. I awoke in a hospital bed with Aunt Daphne by my side. Overcome with regret, I apologized for everything. She comforted me, reminding me of Grandpa’s unconditional love and how he always believed in me.
As she reached into her bag, my heart raced when I recognized the familiar blue wrapping paper. It was an Xbox, a gift from Grandpa, meant to be given only when I understood the value of hard work. I realized then that I had learned that lesson, and the desire for the gift faded.
In the following years, I grew into my responsibilities, embracing the lessons my grandfather imparted. Now, as a mother myself, I reflect on those moments with gratitude. The sweet honey from my bees serves as a cherished reminder of the bond I shared with Grandpa, a bond that continues to guide me.
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