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.