Tom Scott's saxophone piece from his 1988 album Flashpoint is the fucking shit, and Rick Ross is an entertainer spitting lyrics that makes you pray for a remake of Scarface, which I doubt will ever happen. If it wasn't for playing both of their albums on repeat today, I would've been lagging more on editing photos, re-considering getting a TV for my room in Sylmar and started getting used to enjoying bullshit 30 second ads on video streaming sites.
By the way, not having a decent job, aside from photography gigs, ISN'T pleasing at all obviously. I mentioned about this on here several times, so its best if you read the previous posts I typed earlier this year that covers the topic more in depth. I'm not incredibly lazy, but if someone tells me to go apply for one, I'll just laugh my ass off. If they, or yourself, ask why, I'll tell them, and yourself, to go talk to my ex job agent, Jackie Bernstein, about all the places around the San Fernando Valley she took me to last year for six months. She'll tell you.
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