Post by Word up on Jun 18, 2008 20:43:54 GMT -8
Well, I had the day off from school and hadn’t found a job around town yet so I figured it would be perfect time to explore the city a bit. I threw on some old torn-up denim jeans, which still looked like they were made for someone twice my size… and might have been. Anyway, I also grabbed a yellow sleeveless shirt and some sunglasses before I headed out the door. Without an agenda for the day I could just stroll at my leisure and go where I pleased though I had no sense of the streets. But hey, what better way to get the feel of a place than by wandering aimlessly around for a greater part of a day, right?
I started off by heading toward the beach then a couple turns down this road and that to the point I wasn’t really sure of where I was anymore but had found a small music store. I stepped inside and began to stroll back and forth through the rows of CDs with minimal interest in what was on display. Most of it was either pop, rap, or rock aka junk, crap, and a headache. Toward the back of the store I finally found some good tunes in the relatively small reggae section. That was the biggest thing that pissed me off about this country in the time I’d been here, absolutely no taste in music whatsoever. Shame. I had to do something.
“Ey, mon, taimta fiux dis saory ass miuzik.” I called out while approaching the desk as some lame ass tune from some crappy American production creation played over the stores, with Bounty Killer’s “Nah No Mercy” album in hand. I paid for it and told him to persuaded him to play it, switching over to Look, I started grooving to the sick rhythm. Much better.
I started off by heading toward the beach then a couple turns down this road and that to the point I wasn’t really sure of where I was anymore but had found a small music store. I stepped inside and began to stroll back and forth through the rows of CDs with minimal interest in what was on display. Most of it was either pop, rap, or rock aka junk, crap, and a headache. Toward the back of the store I finally found some good tunes in the relatively small reggae section. That was the biggest thing that pissed me off about this country in the time I’d been here, absolutely no taste in music whatsoever. Shame. I had to do something.
“Ey, mon, taimta fiux dis saory ass miuzik.” I called out while approaching the desk as some lame ass tune from some crappy American production creation played over the stores, with Bounty Killer’s “Nah No Mercy” album in hand. I paid for it and told him to persuaded him to play it, switching over to Look, I started grooving to the sick rhythm. Much better.
