I realize this every afternoon when I get back from class. He listens to über-ghetto, hardcore rap that he knows less than half the words of... and tries to sing along in his tone-deaf, milk-toast white voice.
Note: He's an extreme conversative. I.e. He's a minority-hating, baby-killing, ghetto-abhoring, poverty-indifferent toolbox who speaks in ebonics and literally calls himself "gangsta'."
Skin-check.
P.s. Rainman and I have begun speaking again. While still awkward, I think it's slowly on the road to recovery. Ever so slowly.
1 comment:
hahaha that tea crap drink is as horrible as the rap!
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