I told Big Rob about the Nia Long, Anti-Christ, Wu-Tang dream. He said, "If Nia Long offered you some of that coochie, your young ass couldn't handle it." I wanted to say, "That's not what your momma said!" What I actually said was, "Whatever nigga!" 

How is a mother fucker gonna hate on the next man's dreams. We talking a mother fucking dream! Damn, that's all a nigga got up in this shit hole.

"The Stand" was a fucking amazing book. I'm giving it my highest ratings 4 out of 4 stars. I told big Rob that the book would make a good movie, but when I asked if he wanted to read he said it was too many pages.
Me and Rob got into a little argument this morning. He doesn't smoke, I do. He wants me to smoke standing by the door so that I can blow the smoke out on to the tier. Fuck that! That nigga ain't running nothing up in here. As far as I'm concerned this nigga is living in my cell, not the other way around. And I didn't like the tone he used asking. 

Bud has been calling my name for the last 15 minutes. I know that mother fucker ran out of cigarettes. I've got two packs of BUGLER tobacco left. I gave Bud one of the packs. He knows the deal, I get two back for every one he borrows. I'm into Bud's pocket pretty good at this point. I figure by the time this lock down is over I won't have to spend any of my own money at commissary. And that's just how I like it. Other peoples money.

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