Went out to the Cane on Thursday night to beat back the boredom. When I got there they were setting up for a local rap show. So instead of the pin and ink crowd the bar was full of FUBU, P Diddy and all the leopard print a cat could stand. The first thing I noticed were the women in the house. To put it nicely these weren’t the rap chicks you see on the TV. The majority were what I would call serious ground-pounders. The only thing thin about these chicks was the leopard print stretched around their asses. I’m just saying is all. Quite a few rappers got up and did their thing, but I was disappointed in the fact that they were all rapping to prerecorded beats. I would’a dug it more if there’d had been actual DJ’s spinning behind em. But hell, it was a good show overall. The Hurricane is going thru what I’d call a fucked up censorship phase. Behind the bar used to be photos of the bar crew at play and it added a nice homey touch to the place but the Man had all the personal shit ripped down. I guess he thought that it took away from the “ambiance” or whatever the fuck passes in his head for class. Pious muthafucker! It’s a goddamn club that plays rock, and hip-hop. I find it and always will find it fuckin amazing what the owner’s blame shit on when it’s the slow season. I imagine if this trend keeps up their gonna want to bar tattoos and shit like that cause they think it scares off the little bitches and pussies from the suburbs. I need to win the lottery and just buy this muthafucker and de-pussiefie it and run it like it should be. I despise censorship in all it’s fucked up forms. I’m working up drawings for a new tattoo. It’s gonna go on my left arm under the huge Kanji death symbol I’m sporting. I’m leaning toward a West African design called a Gye Nyame, which stand for the supremacy of God, or the Akoben or war horn, which means vigilance. For me tattoos have to mean something, I’ll keep you cats up on what I do. Remember, fuck the Man, and fuck censorship! Peace