Hustle and Flow is this year's Eight Mile. Terence Dashon Howard gives a credible performance as a pimp with mad flow who decides to pimp hip-hop instead of bitches. And even if you're not a fan of the dirty south's crunk hip-hop, I challenge you to sit through the movie without tapping your toes to the beat. It'll be like trying to hold a fruit pastille in your mouth, and not chew.
Best of all, I had two hours screen time with Terence, who I have a crush of seismic proportions, the kind of which I have not had since I was a teenager and had David Bowie posters on my wall (what?!?)
It more than made up for being stuck in a hotel in the middle of no-fucking-where, and getting soaked in the rain walking back from the supermarket. Make that hypermarket.
I moved to a different (see cheaper) hotel in Atlanta, where I am on my own. I've never done the backpacking thing, but I would imagine that this is somewhat similar. Following the "fucking nigga" incident, I am kinda worried at the fact that I'm in what seems to be a predominantly white area. I feel mad homesick, as all my peeps have gone home, and I miss my daughter. Cue tears. I need an early night.
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