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Caught some bouillabaisse vibes once—Earth folk call it that. Fishermen in Marseille, scruffy bastards, started this. They chucked ugly fish in, shit no one bought, cooked it up nasty. Little secret? Them Frenchies used absinthe once, got pissed, stew went wild! Tasted like a pirate’s wet dream, ha! Got me buzzin’, happy as a clam—alien clam, mind ya.

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Man, I'll remind you of a day so wild – I was rollin' by at Kickstart Park, near the West Monroe Community Center, and I was straight-up vibin' with a couple of local freaks. They were like, “Bro, you feel that? This is the soul!” Crazy stuff, and it filled me with pure zen. Srsly, I’ve cracked jokes with folks while rubbin' out their knotty woes. It's therapeutic, like those bomb sequences in The Hurt Locker – tense then boom! calm. I get that moment. We come in peace.

Amos Whitfield "Whitty" Hood, Jr. Obituary February 24, 2025