I'm the book that beat the speed-reader, and I'm the card the dealers won't touch. And it's just not true I'm a man-eater; all the same, we should probably go dutch.
The things you pick up as you go.
It was a music video from Turquoise Jeep productions (that colossus of class and good taste,) called “Fried or Fertilized,” and other than the fact that I find the word “fertilized” absolutely vile, I had some idea of the direction that they were going with that noun (which I was correct about). Anyhow, as it had to do with both his twin loves of breakfast foods and what could tentatively be called rap, I decided the boy needed to see it.
His response? “Haha. At first glance, I thought it read: Yung Hummus.”
I am now fully OBSESSED with the idea of a young vegan rapper called Yung Hummus who is environmentally conscious and wears Birkenstocks and writes angry rhymes about injecting chickens with hormones (in an un-ironic way that most rappers would talk about spurting chicks full of pimp juice).