Tonight Sonya and I went to dinner to celebrate Steve's (of Tina and Steve, mentioned in the Easter Vomit entry) birthday. We went to Dickie Brennan's Steakhouse, which is ridiculously good. I recommend it.
Anyway, we're walking down Iberville on our way to dinner. There was this guy walking towards us. He was talking to himself and walking quickly, with purpose.
Crazy? I thought. But no. As he got closer I realized he was rapping.
"Bitches...money...murder...thug...nigga," he said.
In each hand he had three three videotapes, which I looked at as he walked past us. They were all porn, with outsized breasts and genitalia luridly pictured on the covers and sides.
Life's pretty sweet for that guy, huh? Just walkin' around, layin' down some rhymes and eventually going home to watch some porn.