Wednesday, November 28, 2007

selective love

I only became a lover of Ludacris (figuratively, of course) in the last few years. When I saw him in Crash and then Hustle & Flow, mm mm mmm. I mean, he's a good actor. I was intrigued, did a little background checking. Essentially, I have decided to adore the maturing performer with the hot lava voice who runs an organization to help young people make smarter decisions. This guy:

And I am turning a blind eye to the juvenile gangsta whose newsletter is called "Word of Mouf" (I can't even say that out loud; I'm far too white) and who has album covers that look like this:

Granted it was from some years ago, but frankly not enough.
And so. This is all I've got. Peace out.