Canadian rapper Drake has released the cover art for his second album, ‘Take Care,’ which is set for release Oct. 24.

Now, I love Drake, but I don’t love this cover. It’s awkward, seemingly random, and doesn’t make any sense (or, at least, doesn’t make any sense to me). I feel like Drake’s album cover has so much potential for creativity and epic-ness, but this was anything but legen- wait for it! – dary (Okay, I really need to stop watching “How I Met Your Mother”).

Because I have too much time on my hands am curious about the meaning behind this art, I have decided to write a short, fictional story about Drake’s album cover.

The following is a fictional contemplation by Drake:

Sitting in this Gothic booth, I am reminded of my time served on ‘Degrassi.’ Those long, cold winters paying my dues in order to achieve international fame, as every Canadian must serve time on the CTV show in order to make it (damn you, Justin Bieber, for finding the YouTube loophole!)

Day after day, I sat in that wheelchair hoping they’d either kill off Jimmy, or ship him to some rehab centre in Alberta. Thank God I got off that teen drama and thank God I wasn’t cast to take over The Dot (sorry Spin, but I know that must’ve sucked). Now I am here, in a booth at an obviously expensive restaurant. I am thirsty for champagne, but my waiter hasn’t noticed, so I’m holding this gold goblet hoping he’ll take my subtle hint (you know us Canucks, we never want to be rude).

There’s something my fans, friends and family don’t know about me; I have OCD. I like to line objects up diagonally, it calms my nerves; so I carry my goblet, bird statue and candle with me wherever I go. Some people think that’s a lot to carry around, but thanks to the growing acceptability of murses (man purses), I can carry my necessities comfortably.

Dammit, waiter, I actually would like my drink soon! Also, I need a menu, that In-N-Out Burger burger was hours ago and I need to refuel. I bet Lil’ Wayne doesn’t get this treatment when he eats alone!

There are beautiful oil paintings on the wall, but nothing grabs my attention quite like this brown, fur tablecloth. That seems impractical, doesn’t it? A fur tablecloth. The amount of crumbs stuck in it after each meal must be astounding. Do they wash it after every customer? They must. Do busboys take care of that? I just know that service fee will be hidden in my bill.

I miss home and the non-fur tableclothed restaurants in Toronto.

Take Care,


P.S. Yes, I did just sign off my contemplation.