A short list of reasonable expectations for tonight: Weed. Marijuana. Cannabis sativa. Giant, fragrant mushroom clouds of acrid smoke. Contact highs. Firsthand highs. Oh yeah, and Texas hip-hop. I'm fairly certain that getting fucked up is the traditional way to celebrate May Day. And labor marches. I don't think there is a single Coughee Brothaz song that isn't about smoking weed, at least indirectly. If it's not about that sticky green, it's about the various virtues and vices of the human female, also know as "bitches." So, yeah, groundbreaking developments in the world of hip-hop. Devin the Dude is easily the central supporting column of the Coughee Brothaz, a Houston-based crew of perennially high, affably average guys that rap about average things over beats that sound straight from California circa 1995, beats that never accelerate beyond a sleepwalking pulse. Not to imply that it isn't an enjoyably lazy ride. Devin and his boys aren't mediocre as much as they are proud underachievers. At it's best, the lyrics strike a universal chord with lines like:

 gas so high/the price fuckin' with my weed purchase.


when we started dating girl you used to give me some/now I'm left with masturbating, hell I can't get a crumb


I hate to sound rude, but you know it's a fool/you can't fall in love with a garden tool


Sage wisdom and deep insights about the finer vagaries of relationships and living in a hostile economy. How can you refuse?

Tonight at the Crocodile at 8 pm. Tickets are $17 in advance.