Cash Money, por los Hermanos de los Musica Maxima en el Maina

  We drove the back way into Surry along Maine Hwy 1.  Playhouse and opera palaces abound.  There's a big business in the summer in theatre and music performances to confound and amaze the locals and the tourist trade.

  As near as I can tell, Mainers see a brother about once a month.  Mexicans are spotted about as often as Zebras, which is not very damn often.

  I can get back down to Taco Wacko and chat up Arial and Martha and put together a singing and dancing group, featuring Los Hombres y Hermanos de Los Musica Maxima and come up here to make the circuit next summer.  Mainers have never seen rapping, much less sagging and I think los musica de los Atalazan singing about La Vida Triste, El Norte, Los Primos de Noche and getting vajo con las Gente would be a big draw.  Touring in low riders and pickups we'd knock em dead.  At the end of every run we could add a little performance art in these unlocked designer mansions and haul away expensive outerwear, designer cookware and assorted electronics and make a killing.  Those low riders would be scraping on the way back to los Tejas with all the loot and cash on board.

  Update: Even in the summer if we come up here sagging our Northface 2-Season Ski & Swim accessory trunks it will Blow.  Their.  Minds.

Update:  Make a list of words for rap songs.  Lob-stah.  Mob-stah.

UpdateII: On the other hand, you can't swing a lobster up there without hitting a Russian.