by John Ridley
After moping through life without a good book to read, or rather not having the inclination to start any book in my list of classics, I happened upon this one on the new books shelf at the library. Turned out to be a quick and enjoyable read through some very dark humor and it was nice to again have a book grab me and make me look forward to reading at lunches. Paris moved to L.A. to direct, act, be in music videos, whatever. He ends up working at a 7-11 type store when some "dirty white guy" pays for an armload full of burrittos with a hundred dollar bill and promptly crashes outside, later asking Paris for a ride home. Home just happens to be in rich part of town and the dirty white guy is a drugged out internationally famous recording artist who has just recorded his musical swan song and intends to off himself. Instead he passes out (and later kills himselfhilariously) and Paris steals the DAT player with the only copy of the album, thinking it might be worth some dough and attempts to get one million dollars out of the dead artists agent. Meanwhile, Paris' roommate becomes involved in a drug theft gone bad. One turn after another and soon the drug lord killers are after Paris for the drugs, of which he knows nothing about. I know, this is a horrible synopsis but I don't care right now. In the end, everyone dies and all is well with the world
