Dale C.

I've grown up in Metairie, Louisiana since I was seven-hundred and forty years old. I started going to school as a wee lad at Ecole Classique. Which translates in French as Classic Piece of Shit School. I then graduated from that unholy place and set out to sow my wild oats. I began my epic quest for knowledge and power and ventured off to a far away land called Hammond where I went to college for one semester at Southeastern Louisiana University. I ended up not doing well for a good number of reasons and moved back home to Metairie. I wasted a couple of months pondering my life and finally decided to attend ITT Technical Institute in St. Rose. I am doing well now and in my spare time I go to my friends' hood where we spend our days Chillin' out maxin' relaxin' all cool and all shootin some b-ball outside of the school when a couple of guys who were up to no good started making trouble in my neighborhood. I got in one little fight and my mom got scared she said "You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air." I whistled for a cab and when it came near the license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror. If anything I can say this cab is rare, but I thought "Now forget it - Yo homes to Bel Air." I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8 and I yelled to the cabbie, "Yo homes smell ya later." I looked at my kingdom. I was finally there, to sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air.

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