It's What I Get for Thinking I'd Like to Be a Gangsta

So yesterday, I got to thinking, if someone were to ask me: "If you were to pick any fictional character whose life you could inhabit, who would it be?" my immediate response would be Omar Little from The Wire.




And you wanna know why? Because I love the way he slides up on someone with that unerring nonchalance, that cool cold collectedness, slides a shotgun out from under his jacket, cold metal pressing itself against his dark skin, click-clicks it into place, and then, smooth as a ball-bearing, smooth as a baby's ass, smooth as the fucking barrel humming at the end of that shotgun, plugs someone in the chest once-twice, and then, without batting a motherfucking eyelash, without even BLINKING his fucking eyes, slips that gun back under his jacket and, with the crisp sound of trenchcoat clipping through the air, sinks back into the shadows. He is smooth as a piece of beach-glass in a world of gravel-pebbles. Oh, to be so calm, so in control.

And then I thought, that's really fucking disturbing, Lindy Loo.

So then I decided I would look on youtube to find a video clip of him pumping a couple bullets into somebody's chest, so that you, dear readers, could watch it and say, "Oh fuck yeah. He is a smooth motherfucker, and I totally feel you, Lindy Loo."

Which in turn, caused me to stumble across someone's fucking Omar-Little-related youtube spoiler.

Which is clearly my punishment for wanting to be a gangsta. *Sigh*

Nonetheless, no shotgun, but still bad-ass:

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