Ya know, sometimes we all just want to kick back and toke up a joint or two (or four) while groovin’ at a Little Wa… pardon me… Lil’ Wayne concert. Hell, after enduring Super Bowl 42, I wanted to down a bottle of Valium with a gallon of Grey Goose. So, can we really blame Kevin Faulk (or as I like to call him, “the little bastard that could”) for wanting to puff a little wacky tobaccy? I mean, it’s not as if he was punching his wife or something.
Love ya, Kev!