Super-Villain Style

Work In Progress

2005-10-12T22:01:00.000-05:00

Update Again

2005-09-22T22:50:00.000-05:00

For the one or two of you who still visit this piece of crap, I'm pretty much finished with the new site.

You can visit it by typing this crap in your browser: http://www.supervillainstyle.com

There's a lot of crap I plan to add to the new site, but for now, it's pretty functional.

There aren't any new posts up yet, except the couple of test posts and comments made by myself. Hopefully, I'll get down to actually posting in a week or so.
No one should probably be checking out the site for awhile. I got a lot of content to add.

Right now, my eyes hurt, and I just wanna go to sleep.

DOC

Update

2005-08-27T06:22:00.000-05:00

For the one or two of you who still visit the site, the relaunch is one step closer. The new adress will be

supervillainstyle.com

You'll probably see a "Nothing Here" page because the address is moving throughout the Internet.
And, over the next few days, I will be updating the server. So, nobody will probably be able to connect for the next week. I'm currently installing a new version of MovableType. I just don't like the way WordPress looks for some reason. Hopefully, the address will point to "something" by the end of the week.

Shit Is Dead.

2005-05-05T20:12:00.000-05:00

Kingdom Grace

2005-05-05T19:22:00.000-05:00

The sun'll come out tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there'll be sun.

You've laid waste to your enemies, taken out your foes. You got a hole in your leg and a bruise on your chest. Now what's next? Disney World? I don't think so. Nope. You get the boys together, put several kilos of coke on the table, pile it up to a mound, get together some fine ass asian strippers, find a donkey, and go to work on the partying. And you don't worry about tomorrow, because we all know...

You wake up in the morning fucked up. Your head's pounding. You got two naked asian broads lying on both sides of you. You wipe your face, and your hand knocks away the coke powder from your nose. Or at least the powder that isn't stuck to the blood that you find about your fingers.

You slowly rise and make your way to the bathroom. You see the dried up blood hanging from your nose. You wash your face and take a leak. You turn the water on in the bathtub and let it run for the cleaning you're about to do. You drop your drawers and take that shit your bowels have been calling you to do since you woke. And while you sit there, you think about that inevitable shit you've been putting off doing for so long.

Someone told you several months ago that you'd have to go away, far away, that you'd have to give up the big house, the coke parties, the asian and latin broads, and the many people who make up your entourage. You'd have to give up the good life and all that fuckin' adoration. And you knew when you heard that shit, that it would be hard, because you had become so accustomed to the lifestyle. What man in his right mind would willingly give up the life you had been living.

But you knew the day would come when you'd have to go away. You'd have to go far away, maybe to another country, or some other city. Maybe some backwater hick piece of shit town down yonder. You'd have to change your life, your location, your name, maybe even your face, and give up the good way you've been living. You'd have to finally do right by the people who really loved you and needed you. And those people needed you to be alive.

They needed you to live a life that was on the low. You know, one of those normal lives, one of those lives of quiet desperation that you had resisted for so long. You'd have that house in the suburbs, the wife, the kids. You'd have the snooping neighbors and their loud, filthy ass kids. You'd have to start driving the minivan, maybe something like a Ford. And you'd live off of six o'clock dinners and 11 o'clock bedtimes. You'd get a job with a shitty ass boss, working shitty ass hours, for the shitty ass pay. And you'd come home to your boring ass family in your boring ass house, watching boring ass television. Yeah. This would be the life, the life you've run and hidden from all this time.

And just where did all that running get you. Nothing. No money, no car, no nothing. You had lived in the moment for so long. And now that the moment had slowly passed you by, your dumbass finally took a good look around. And you found out you didn't have shit. In fact, you had less than shit because you knew, you knew it was coming, when all the dumb shit you had done in the past would come back and kick you right smack in your balls.

All that shit that you had done was coming back to get you. It would be coming to take your ass away pretty soon. And not to the good place. Nope. You knew you weren't going to the good place. You were going to that other place, that place some say is way down below, that place where it gets hotter than Miami. And who knew anything could get hotter than Miami.

And that's why, before the night is over, you'll have to go and take the people you love, and leave all this bullshit behind. You'll have to pull together a minivan, and pack in your most precious belongings and go far away, leaving all the other bullshit behind. And you'll have to do it while your people held to you tight, begging for you to stay, asking for one more round, to fight the power one more time. But you know you got no more fight left in you. You're done.

You're tired. And you've been tired for awhile. You've been gasping for air and running on empty. You've been walking around in circles and making yourself dizzy. And at the time, that was a good thing. Because when you're dizzy, there's nothing else going on. When you're dizzy and staggering, and not in a lucid place, and your thoughts are blank, that's when you're not paying attention to the things you know you should be. Only thing is, when you're dizzy, the only way to go is down, to fall right flat on your ass. And you promised yourself that you would never let that happen. You'd rather die than to let that happen.

But like they say, the sun'll come out tomorrow. The world will continue turning. You'll be gone, and pretty soon they won't remember who you were. They won't give a fuck who you were. You'll return to being a nobody. And nobody will give a fuck about you, as if they truly did to begin with. But hey, ain't that how the world operates. People clamoring for fifteen minutes because they know deep down that in the end, they don't mean shit. Histories of empires and nations and wars and nary a peep about the people who lived through them, except through invalid generalizations. Speak loud or forever hold your peace. Die now and nobody will ever remember.

Bleak Existence

2005-05-04T18:58:00.000-05:00

Poof. Just like magic...

Ubuntu Crap

2005-05-04T01:15:00.000-05:00

Ubuntu Linux Free Shipping

I'm about to start trying some of this Linux crap. I've heard good things about this crap here. And for a limited time, they're sending out free cds of this crap, with free shipping. So, it really is free. Hopefully this shit works out well so I can finally get rid of this Microsoft crap.

I've been trying to go Microsoft free for the past year and a half. I've also given up other crap I normally used to have to pay dough for. No more Microsoft Office. Now I use OpenOffice with Firefox and Thunderbird (no homo). And I stopped ""getting" adobe photoshop. Now I'm using Gimp. By the way, haven't you noticed how gay open source software sounds.

And what the fuck is up with Ubuntu. If you really want repsect, give your shit old fashioned respectable names, like Apple and Macintosh. Okay, that sounds fruity, too. It's probably why Microsoft was able to steal all them Apple software designs, deliver inferior versions of an operating system, and still be the top software maker in the world.

So, the lesson is, I don't know. Make one up. You always want me to do all the hard work. You think and do shit for a change. You fuckin' lazy ass beyotches.

Milk The Cow

2005-05-04T00:18:00.000-05:00

When I fuckin' tell ju that I leaving, mahn, I meant that shit, mahn. I fuckin' leave all this bullshit behind me, mahn. Fuck this blog, mahn. FUCK THIS MUTHAFUCKIN' BLOG, MAHN. I fuckin' kill this shit, mahn, on fuckin' National No Homo Day, mahn. I fuckin' put a hole in this beyotch, mahn. YOU DIE TOMORROW, MUTHAFUCKA! I FUCKIN' KILL JU', MAHN!

So, it don't matter what ju' say, mahn. I don't give a fuck no moe, mahn. I fuckin' put a bullet in this shit, mahn. I put mah blood, mah fuckin' sweat, mah fuckin tears, in this shit, mahn. And what do I git in return, mahn. Tell me what the FUCK did I git in return, mahn. NOTHING! I GIT MUTHAFUCKIN' NO-THING, MAHN. NO AZZ! NO FUCKIN' PUSSY! NO NO-THING, MAHN! I can't even git my fuckin' sister to let me git none, mahn. MY FUCKIN' SISTER! By the way, all ju who say I wanna hit my sister from the back, FUCK JU, MAHN. YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT JU FUCKIN' TALK-ING ABOUT, MAHN! Ju mistaken, mahn. I don't wanna fuck my sister, mahn. I WANNA FUCK JU MO-THER, MAHN! THAT'S RIGHT! I WANNA FUCK JU MUTHAFUCKIN' MOTHER!

I bend ju mother over on the couch back, right mahn. Then, I let her say hello to mah lil friend from the back, right mahn. Then I hit it nice and slow, right. Oh jeah. In and Out, fuckin' in and out, right mahn. And ju mother is lovin' it, ha-ha, right mahn. She fuckin' lovin mah lil friend in her, right mah.

AND - THAT"S - WHEN - I - FUCKIN - BUST - A -NUT - RIGHT - IN - HER - AZZ, MAHN!

And she shivering and drooling like a retard, right mahn. Ju mother just got her cootchie busted, mahn. And now she call me, papi. Ha-ha. And now Ju mother is in love with me, mahn. And ju can't do shit about it, mahn. I'm ju new papi now, mahn. Now ju gotta give me the respect ju didn't want to in the first place, mahn. JU GOTTA RESPECT ME NOW, RIGHT MAHN! Yes. Yes. That's what I thought, mahn.

And to my lil buddy, T-Macq, mahn. When I offer ju somethin' again, ju best take it mahn. Do ju hear me. So what, I only have the man readers, mahn. So what, ju only be gittin' male azz from my site, mahn. WHEN I OFFER JU THE MALE AZZ, JU BETTER TAKE IT, MAHN! JU BETTER SAY, HOW DEEP JU WANT ME TO FUCK IT, MAHN. So what ju a homo after that, mahn. From mah prespective, being straight ain't all it's cracked up to be, mahn. Sure, I wouldn't swing that way. I'd probably bang my sister first. Ha-ha. Don't laugh. I fuckin' kill ju if ju laugh, mahn. I FUCKIN KILL JU, MAHN!

Jest like I'm gonna kill this blog, mahn. I give ju mah word, mahn. Tomorrow will be mah last post, mahn. Then, I fuckin' kill this shit afterwards, mahn. And believe ju, me, mahn. All I have in this world is my balls and my word, and I don't break them for no one, ju understain? JU FUCKIN' UNDERSTAIN ME, MAHN!

My word, mahn, this shit is over.

To All My Beyotches

2005-05-03T20:16:00.000-05:00

"What now?" "What now?

Well, let me tell you what now. I'm gonna call a couple of pipe-hittin' niggas who'll go to work on homes here with a pair of pliers and a blowtorch. You hear me talkin', hillbilly boy? I ain't through with you by a damn sight.

I'm gonna get medieval on your ass.

I Can't Speak French

2005-05-03T19:25:00.000-05:00

Visit this site.

Actuacine

It's the greatest, fuck it. I'm bored. Just click the goddamn link, beyotches.

Posterwire Is The Greatest

2005-05-03T19:20:00.000-05:00

Visit this weblog

Posterwire

It's the future. It's the greatest new weblog of the new century. Go visit it. Plus I think they're giving away crack and pizza with free 2-Liters of Coke. And the president loves this shit. Not just Bush, but also Clinton. They span both political parties. I certify this weblog the greatest. So, while this shit is dead as hell. Posterwire is live as fuck. So, make sure you visit this site. And give up some ass while you're at it.

Tony Macq is the Greatest

2005-05-03T18:59:00.000-05:00

Visit his weblog

Macq

It's the future. It's the greatest new weblog of the new century. Go visit it. Plus I think he's giving away crack and pizza with free 2-Liters of Pepsi. And the president loves his shit. Not just Bush, but also Clinton. He spans both political parties. I certify this dude the greatest. So, while this shit is dead as hell. The Macq-man is live as fuck. So, make sure you visit his site. And give him some ass while you're at it.

Bored + Crap = Assed Out

2005-05-02T17:18:00.000-05:00

I'm dry. I got nothing. I'm done. I guess that's why I'm posting another fuckin' link with nothing else attached to it.

By the way, Who wants this piece of shit? Not just the music, but this whole fuckin' weblog. I'll give it to you for nothing. You can take it and delete everything and put up porn shit. I don't care.

First one who emails me and tells me they want this shit, I'll give it to'em. (no homo) I'll give it all to'em. (no homo)

Probably won't get one fuckin' email, because any right minded individual wouldn't want to claim some filthy shit like this. That'll really put an exclamation point on how insignificant this shit was. I can't believe I've wasted countless hours of my life upkeeping this shit. I can't believe what a fuckin' loser I am. I need to get a life.

Mad Remix Crapfest

2005-04-28T16:07:00.000-05:00

Click Me
Click Me Too

Trade Redundancy Part III: RAW

2005-04-28T05:02:00.000-05:00

Now. Let's switch gears. My first Raw pick would be for Taijiri. Smackdown looks like it might be giving some shine to the Cruiserweight Division. And I'd rather have a sure and steady hand anchoring the division if I could. Plus, London will need another heel to go against after his shit with Chavo and Kidman wears thin. And Taijiri makes a decent heel. Sure, we probably won't see Taijiri but every other week. But look at his stint on Raw. The dude has the title belts and is barely seen on that show. And when Eugene finally comes back, and they decide to pair Regal back with him, if only for Regal to stab the retard in the back and turn heel again, Taijiri will surely be toast, and will return to obscurity on Heat. At least on Smackdown, he'll get a little camera time facing the occasional opponenet. And that's better than nothing.

My second pick from Raw would be for Rob Conway. La Resistance is dead. It's a joke. There's no returning the gimmick from the dead. Those two need to break up. Get Conway off of Raw. Pair him up with another mid-carder like Haas. Give them a good mouthpiece like Heyman. And you have another good team of wrestlers for the Smackdown tag team divison. If you add the returning Dudleys, the new tag team champions, MNM, the new Conway - Haas team, and some makeshift team of two upper mid-carders who haven't been booked to do anything better, and you have yourself a decent tag team division.

My third pick is for someone that many Raw viewers behold dearly, Christian. Christian will always be an upper mid-carder for life, but on Smackdown, he could actually main event. Think JBL, but with better in ring wrestling skills. Separate Christian from Tomko. Let him comtinue as the smug-ass creepy little bastard. And let him go against the likes of Eddie Guerrero, Kurt Angle and Rey Mysterio. Give him an occasional television match against Cena. And what you have is the rejuvenation (is that a word?) of another wasted wrestler. Trust me. He doesn't need to be on Raw any longer. He's reached the ceiling. You can only fight for the Intercontinental Chamionship so many times before it gets stale. He's fought everyone on Raw, and lost, three times at least. The dude needs a change. He needs the chance to redeem himself. And that'll only coome from being sent to Smackdown.

My next pick is in the same spot as Christian. And his name is Chris Jericho. I still remember CHris Jericho becoming the first Undisputed WWE Champion. I also remember the Rock punking him out by calling him a bitch. But Chris Jericho rose to the occasion and put on several good matches against the Rock and Stone Cold Steve Austin. He would eventually get crushed by the devil, Triple H, and his demon wife, Stephanie. He would lose the title, and after some time, return to the mid-card hell he's resided since that initial crushing. His return to Raw, a couple of years after being traded to Smackdown, started out great, but eventually, he ended up stuck fighting for the Intercontinental Championship, over and over again. It's way beyond fresh. And that's why Jericho needs to return to Smackdown and take his place in their smaller heavyweight division. Keep him face, turn him heel, I don't care. Just get this man off of Raw where he's being completely wasted. Maybe he'll finally get the belt back and have that title reign we all hoped he'd have several years back.

My last pick may be a little controversial. I honestly don't know if this one will see the light of day. But I think it's a good one. It's for Randy Orton. This dude has main event written all over him. But he won't get that slot on Raw. It's already taken by a slew of elders, headed by Triple H. But on Smackdown, there seems to be more room for growth. Plus, Smackdown needs a top heel to face their new champion, John Cena, someone who can cut a good promo and follow through with that shit in the ring. If Eddie Guerrero had that somebody, his title reign might have been perceived better. Instead, the boys upstair had to make a main eventer from scratch out of the likes of JBL. And it has had mixed results. Maybe with a better heel to compete against, Cena's title run might be remembered more fondly. I give it a year or two. Orton will be main eventing PPVs for Smackdown. Give him a heel crew, like the Four Horsemen, and let Orton be the smug little bastard I hear he really is. Trust me, he'll get over big. And he won't have Triple H there to make him turn face and take his title away a month later. He'll be able to run free. And we could see a rivalry that might match Hogan and Savage, Savage and Steamboat, Hart and Micheals. Of course, this completely depends on if Cena ever learns how to truly wrestle.

Trade Redundancy Part II: Smackdown

2005-04-28T04:59:00.000-05:00

My first pick from Smackdown would be for Dawn Marie. Raw needs new females for their Women's division. Dawn Marie has shown a basic understanding of in ring wrestling. She's also pretty respectable when it comes to cutting a promo. Plus, she's always been willing to show a little T&A, which I presume is a prerequisite to wrestling in the WWE. The division needs an extra player to do the job when needed, and to take the place for Lita when she eventually breaks another part of her body. If you add another rookie female, like one of those no-name divas, you'll have a halfway crappy Women's Division. And I'm sure Torri can find another nemesis to beat in bikini and lingerie contests over on Smackdown, like that Joy chick, who looks pretty killer, and seems to be able to pronounce words, and other shit like that.

My next pick would be the Basham brother that's angry because he's JBL's lap dog. I don't know either of the Bashams names. And I can't really tell them apart, and it's not because they look alike. It's because they both have shown no personality until recently. The dudes are pretty interchangable. And that's bad because I heard they were two pretty decent wretlers. It's also why they need to be split up. Give one of them a solo shot on Raw, and make the other tag with another no-name wrestler on Smackdown.

The third pick would be for a person a lot of you seem to love, RVD. I find the dude boring and predictable. I just don't see him fulfilling those main event dreams that a lot of his fans have. And Smackdown already has a man like him on the roster, somebody most people like, but who's past his prime. And that's Booker T. Smackdown doesn't need another Booker T, who's seems to have found his spot on the Smackdown roster. That's why RVD should go back to Raw and perform in the upper mid-card and Intercontinental division until his contract runs out.

My fourth pick would be the first of my two picks to help solidify Batista's championship run. Big Show.may not seem like much, but when given the spotlight, the man tends to shine. He has decent wrestling skills, and he can cut a promo. He was one of the men who helped Brock Lesnar go from a one dimensional monster, to the real next big thing. Like Lesnar, Batista needs an opponent people believe can actually beat him. Like Hogan needed his giant, Batista needs the Big Show. Sure, you won't get great matches out of these two. But you will get several memorable moments. I still can't forget Lesnar suplexing Big Show off the ropes with the ring collapsing when both men hit the mat. When you have minimal skills like Batista, you need to up the ante on the spectacle. We need to see Batista powerbombing and picking up 500 pounds, or whatever, of fat ass Big Show for him to get over.

My last Smackdown pick would be for another big man, the one who's a year or two from calling it quits. And that man's name is the Undertaker. Listen. Let's just say that the Undertaker is on some farewell tour right now. He's only been wrestling every once in a while for the past year. He knows it's the end. That's why I assume he went back to the old gimmick, to give the people what they want on his way out. And his shit ain't even about the wrestling anymore. It's all about the spectacle. Might as well say he's doing some Hulk Hogan-lite shit right about now. He does his entrance. He does his eye rolling shit in the ring. He tombstones somebody. And he goes home. What better place to do this shit than on Raw. He gets the pop of a live crowd. He can get his final main event title shot against Batista, possibly in a steel cage. Mick Foley could show up unannounced one night to set up a return engagement between the two. We can finally get that Undetaker - Shawn Micheals rematch we've all been waiting for. And he'll get to do it all on the flagship show, Raw. Plus, with Kurt Angle being another part-timer, Smackdown really doesn't need the both of them. I say, let the old man go out in a blaze of glory. Let us get the spectacle on the show that's always been about spectacle, the flagship, starship Enterprise, RAW.

Trade Redundancy: The Pre-Fix

2005-04-28T04:53:00.000-05:00

I feel bad for my girl Jen. That big lipped beyotch, Angelina Jolie, went and ganked your man. If I was you, honey-chile, I'd stab that beyotch. Ho' don't be fuckin around wit yo man. Uh-uuuh. I don't think so. I don't give a fuck. I'd cut her fat-lipped ass. Nut suckin' stank ass hoe.

I'm glad I got that out of my system. Now I can continue on discussing things of importance, like wrestling. I've been holding off on my critique of the two new champions until their title reigns have gone on for some time. It's been about a month, and pretty much they both suck like I thought they would. But one has been sucking more than the other. And the other sucker is none other than Batista.

The dude really needs to drop some of that muscle. He's stiff as a muthafucka in the ring. And he stinks up the arena with every passing match. But the people still love him. They chant his name. They want him to succeed. And the only way for him to succeed is to match him with wrestlers that will compliment his style.

Unfortunately, he's a face, and there aren't that many great heels on Raw that match up well with him. He's a big guy who needs to face big heels people believe will do him major damage. And he won't get those players until after the draft.

There. I've gone and started up about the draft again. But there's a reason for that. It's the only thing interesting about wrestling these days. I could care less about the match ups on either of the WWE shows. And that's why I'm looking forward to the shake up that should come from a slight roster retooling.

Sure. The rosters really need a major retooling, and possibly some big name new blood. But that ain't happening. Triple H ain't going to Raw. And I doubt that Kurt Angle would easily give up the position he has over on Smackdown to go over to the Triple H show.

No matter how great you are in the ring, Triple H will eventually suck the soul from your body. Just look at Chris Jericho and Chris Benoit, two of the best wrestlers on Raw, continually playing second fiddle to Triple H on the Triple H show. If these two men remain on Raw, they'll continue to be tormented in mid-card hell.

So let me put forth, for the last time, I promise, what I believe could conceivably be some of the trades that happen in the May WWE fake draft. My picks are based on what I believe could happen, with what I believe should happen. In my next entry, I'll begin picking five from each roster, first, starting with Smackdown.

Hee Hee Hee!

2005-04-27T03:01:00.000-05:00

Now, That's Entertainment!

Hey, Tippi Turtle, coming down the street
Tell us what you're gonna do!

First, I'm gonna bother everybody I meet
Then, I'll probably go home and get drunk.

I planned on doing this big thing with these dudes, Super Lover Cee and Casanova Rud, where I posted a mp3 everyday this week from their debut album, Girls, I got'em Locked. But you know me, I got bored with the idea a few hours after I came up with it. And I ended up not posting a damn thing up until now.

So, I'm thinking that I still might actually go through with some shit like this in the future. Not about these dudes, but about somebody I might actually be motivated to finally follow through and do some shit with. I don't know who that is right now. But when I finally come up with that shit, it just might be the the most tremendous, the most spectacular, piece of shit any human on earth has ever come up with. Or it might end up being just another piece of crud on this electronic blah blah blah we all call the Internet.

Now getting to my people. I tried to find a weblog or a website that I could steal some crap from off of, but I couldn't find shit. And after like 10 or 15 minutes, I just got tired of looking. So, since I know absolutely nothing about these two, I've decided to make some shit up.

Here's hoping neither one of them comes across this shit. I ain't looking to get sued. I mean, i only got five dollars to my name. I can't afford another lawsuit, especially after President White Devil and the House of Honkys fucked with them bankruptcy laws. Now I can't go crazy on the credit cards and buy a lot of shit and have all that debt wiped away. Damn you! How the hell's a man supposed to live if he can't live beyond his means.

Now, let's begin our story. One was named Calente Frederick (Super Lover Cee), who made his way as a baby from Jamaica on a raft with some Cubans and Haitians. He made it to shore and was adopted by a poor black couple in Miami. This family made their way upward to New York to find work in the big city. His father took on five jobs. And his mother took on three. And at the age of seven, his family made him take up two jobs, one working as a cab driver, and the other, working as a janitor at a housing project. This is where he would meet his childhood friend, Erik Rudnicki (Casanova Rud).

Young Erik was born from the loins of an Appalachian Russian family. He was a wild child that ran around in circles and howled at the moon at night. At age four, he would acquire the nickname, the magnificent barber, after he spent an hour circumcising himself. He did such a good job that he went on to circumcise half the boys in his village. Pretty soon, with the money he made from trimming, coupled with the dough his white daddy made from crystal meth, Erik and his family were able to leave the squalor of the Appalachians for the luxury of the New York housing projects. And as stated before, it was here where the two boys would meet.

They became friends pretty fast. And by the time they were teenagers, they so acted and dressed alike that many people believe them to be twins. In fact, one incident illustrates this best. One day, Super Lover was hanging out in Casanova's room. And lo and behold, Casanova's white daddy came in. The white daddy, believing Super Lover to be Casanova, started beating him senselessly. And much to Super Lover's surprise, the white daddy told him to take off his clothes so that he could perform "magic" on Super Lover's bottom. Super Lover resisted, but the white daddy was too strong. And unfortunately, Super lover could not resist the white daddy's "magic" no longer. It was at this moment that Super Lover felt the pain that Casanova and every other black man has felt for over four hundred years, the pain of the white man raping the black man over and over again. Oh, you white devil with your evil temptations. May the Lord have mercy on your white devil soul.

Anyway. Afterwards they made two albums, which I was surprised to know, because I only know Girls, I Got'em Locked. Their other release is named Blow Up the Spot. I think it was an ep. I don't know if I've ever heard shit from it. Who knows. Anyway, after their successful rap careers, Rud tried producing for awhile. And Super Lover Cee opened up a chicken shack that was called Clucks.

I think, as of today, Super Lover Cee runs a tobacco plantation down south. And Rud married some white woman and moved back to the mountains. One of them is wanted by the FBI for smuggling butt. Hee-hee. Just joking. Actually I heard that Rud was running a pretty successful white trash whore escort service out of his basement. In fact, I think he makes more money now than he did when he was making records. Way to go, my negro.

But seriously. These dudes are way underrated. Girls I Got'em Locked is probably one of the best kept secrets of 1988. In my eyes, this shit is about as good as Critical Beatdown. It probably would rate higher if half their songs didn't sound like a better version of some shit Kid N Play might have done around that time. These dudes just came off a little too partyish and girl crazy. And that album cover is straight metrosexual, if those two words can be used together. Also, I don't think this shit sold very well. When you go from Elektra to Wild Pitch, you've gone and fucked up somewhere.

Girls Act Stupid-aly
Girls I Got'em Locked
Pump It Back
Super-Casanova

The Jerk-Off: Top Ten

2005-04-23T11:51:00.000-05:00

Every weblog I come across has this shit on the side listing what they perceive is the greatest shit they've contributed to mankind, 10 of the greatest posts they've ever written. Since I'm not above rubbing myself raw, and since I've been doing this shit for over two years, I've decided to copy cat like a mothafucka and jump on the jerk-off bandwagon. So, before you, I list what I believe are 10 of the greatest posts I've ever written. In fact, these might be 10 of the greatest posts ever written to a weblog. So, get ready to be dumbfounded and amazed by some of the greatest shit written in the 21st Century. This is the 21st Century, isn't it? I get that shit mixed up.

In no particular order:

Cujo

The first post that got me major shine from other weblogs. I saw some of the biggest hits to my site ever. Of course, to put this shit in perspective, I was only getting like five or six muthafuckas visiting this shit, and they were all from Google searches.

Juicin For the Future

I didn't think I should put this one up because it's so recent. But I conclude, in a year, this one will become a classic.

Haterade 2005 (No Homo?)

I wrote this shit in the midst of Bol's crusade against Kanye West. I had written about the subject of man rape before. But I thought I needed to speak on the subject further considering the circumstances.

Wansta Tales

Remember Gangsta Stories, or whatever that weblog was called, that had entries supposedly written by a former gangbanger. Well, since I lived in a similar environment, I decided to give my take on the subject.

The Joker

Who's the real sicko?

Micheal And My Butt Cheeks

I answer the question of what it's really like to be a part of the Jackson Clan

My Neck, My Back

The downfall of an Angel

Half-Puerto-Rican and Asian

The first of my posts on my fucked up relationship with women

Doctor Doom

You think I would leave this one off. I don't think so.

The Farce, Part 1

This post is pretty much my mission statement, why I do this shit. Why I make no sense. Why you will never know me, even when you think you do. This story is all true and all lies, all at the same time.

P.S. I'd like to give a special shout out to Relski, who sparked my interest in this blogging shit. Without him, and his shitty ass link advertisements, I might have come at this shit a little too late. And my man Kool Keith who helped me push this shit forward, who gave me that early encouragement to keep going forward. Trust me people, without them, I might not be doing this shit. Much love.

In The Money (Not)

2005-04-23T09:55:00.000-05:00

I played the lottery last night. Over 200 million dollars up for grabs. All I got was the Megaball (no homo). While some punk ass beyotch in Michigan wins it all. So, let's see. I win 2 dollars. And some bastard in Michigan wins 200 million. Probably some white dude from the suburbs who already has a little dough. Fuckin' lottery.

I need to stop playing this shit. I don't think I'm coming out ahead. Probably when it's all said and done, if I ever win anything back, i'll probably have spent so much on this shit that I won't even be breaking even. I guess that's why they say the house always wins.

I guess I should feel good that at least my money is going towards the funding of the public education of our children. Ha. You see there. I made a joke. I'm laughing. I'm laughing so hard that I'm fuckin' crying inside.

Pirates' Booty

2005-04-21T17:24:00.000-05:00

Taking on online movie pirates
P2P is Murder

The bill... calls for up to three years imprisonment for anyone who illegally distributes a copyrighted work for profit, distributes pirated material worth more than $1,000, or videotapes movies in theaters. Subsequent offenses carry up to 10 years in prison for copyright infringment of pre-release movies for financial gain.

That means someone who has a movie on their computer that can be shared via a file-sharing software could face up to three years in prison...

Man, I'd hate to be one of the first dudes locked up for Internet movie piracy. That's an ass raping waiting to happen. Dude one in there for killing his girlfriend and her mom. Dude two in there for moving heroin and cocaine over state lines. And your ass in there for releasing Star Wars before that shit hit the theater. Can you say, More dick in the mouth, please sir. I can't believe they went and pulled this shit. Now, how the fuck is a nerdy ass, no life having mothafucka supposed to get props in this world.

I guess I don't have to worry about that shit anymore because I quit with the Internet piracy long ago, if I ever alledgedly participated in such things. I personally can't stand when people steal other people's personal content. It's bullshit. I know I'd be mad if someone came about my site, and copy and pasted all my shit onto some other shit and claimed they wrote it. I'd first wonder if they were retarded. I mean, please, my shit reads like it was written by monkeys, albeit, very intelligent monkeys. But still, monkeys nonetheless. Then, afterwards, I'd get very angry. It would be fake angry, but I'd still be angry.

The truth of the matter is that I probably wouldn't give a shit, unless the dude found a way to make money off this shit, which I've come to realize is utterly impossible. Trust me, I've tried, oh Lord, have I tried. But I can't make dough off this shit. Although I wish I could. Then I'd stay at home like all the other unemployed bloggers and act like I'm a journalist and break news that nobody gives a shit about. But at least I'd be making money off this shit.

That's why I'm thinking about killing this crap and going legit, you know, doing a fuckin weblog without cursing or half naked chicks, with actual worthwhile content, done in a regular and timely fashion. The only problem with this is that I'm a lazy inconsistent bastard. Only crap I do regularly is eat, shit and sleep. And I'm too broke to even do that shit as consistently as I would like.

But, who knows, one of these days I'll completely sell out. I'll write about boring tech or multimedia bullshit. I'll finally get them links from the bastards who refuse to link to me already. I'll get major league hits. And I'll become too busy to visit all you other little weak webloggers. Yeah, I'll be big. And I'll finally get that validation I never received from my father when I was growing up. Then, I'll be something. I'll be complete. And I'll finally feel like a human for once in my life.

(Sappy music begins to play.)

(And we fade to black.)

New Playboy PSP feature
Another possible link
Direct Link to Content

This is for Playboy's crappy multimedia feature that's supposed to be uploaded to a PSP. These are the public non-nude pictures and video. The cyber club pictures are way better, or at least better than the public site ones. Unfortunately, they fucked Amy Sue up with crappy makeup and a crappy costume. I think they were going for some futuristic look. But in the end, it sucks. The reason I posted a direct link is that Playboy did some shady shit and tried to force me to opt in to their mailing list. I know many people hate that spam, so I posted a possible working link to get around it.

Playboy Best ripped off from Relski's

This shit probably won't last a month.

Discriminate On That Ass

2005-04-20T16:48:00.000-05:00

What's worser than a black man moving in your neighborhood? A poor black man moving in your neighborhood.

You white devils that come across my site need to write that one down. You're definitely gonna need that one at that next whitey get together you have.

They say it's everyman's American dream to own a home. I heard that living in a home you owned was the worst investment a man could make. Recently I was turned down for a house. Apparently, I'm too broke and in debt to be able to own one right now, if ever. It was really a townhouse, two apartments, a large basement, big backyard. I was trying to do one of those new fangled adult things, move my girl in with me, along with my mother and grandmother, who would both live on the first floor. I felt like a piece of shit when I was denied. I know my girl was disappointed.

My big shot cousin owns several homes, plus a couple of apartment buildings. He rotates that shit, selling them off on the regular. He keeps one or two of them to manage himself. He once told me that he had an unspoken rule never to let anyone under 30 in one of his places. He said that young people fuck shit up, that they never leave the apartment how they got it. Although I doubt if anyone of any age leaves a place exactly how they got it, I must admit, if I owned a place, a probably wouldn't let anyone my age or younger in either. Because I know me and I know my friends, and indeed, we do fuck shit up. With that knowledge, if I owned my own apartment building, I probably would discriminate against mostly everybody, no matter whatever the age, sex or creed, whatever the fuck that is.

I definitely couldn't let any women in. Women have a tendency to have kids. They also tend to have shitty ass boyfriends who're just like me and treat places like shit. You never know what you're gonna get when you let a woman in. I was about to write a box of a woman, ...when you open up a box of a woman, but I figured that wouldn't make any sense to most of you. Box, vagina, get it. Fuck it.

Anyway, a woman could be the perfect tenant in the beginnning, even with kids. But then shit eventually gets fucked up. The kids grow up and become gangbangers, or they bring their fucked up friends over, running up and down the stairs, hanging out in front of your shit, keeping up a lot of noise and shit. Or she starts dating some shady ass dude, or her crackhead mother or brother moves in. And the next thing you know, your shit is falling apart.

See. Women are nurturers. That's why they're the center of the American family, the center of American life in general. And because of this, women tend to attract to themselves filthy ass family members and fucked up friends. It's just a part of who they are. They wanna take care of the people they love. And they don't like to see them suffer.

Take my mother. She hasn't had to deal with my ass for over the past couple of years. But when she hits 60, and I'm in my 40s and I'm fucked up because I've lost my job, or because I still have a shitty ass job, and my woman done kicked me out for the last time, and I've finally hit rock bottom, I know I'll eventually end up living in that small ass backroom in whatever place she's staying at during that time. That shit's predestined. And there ain't shit neither one of us can do about it. Except, maybe she can refuse to tell me where she's living at the time. In fact, I think that may be for the best, at least for her.

The point I'm getting at is that no matter how cool, or how clean, or how peaceful the woman is, in the end, her shitty ass relatives and associates will completely fuck you over. And that's why you need to discriminate against every single woman of any age, race or creed. Yeah, even the freaky lesbian chick. Trust me. Dyke beyotches'll fuck up a place in a minute. They're just like fucked up boyfriends when it comes to keeping that pussy.

Now I'm not just against the women. I believe in discriminating against others, too. Take men. Never let a group of more than two dudes move in together, even if the majority of them are gay. And stay away from single old guys, especially the ones between 40 and 60 who don't appear to have a girlfriend. If a dude is past 40 and he's still single, and he's never been married, too. I'm telling you, most likely he likes to rape the babies. Now he could be gay also, and that might be a good thing. But the chances of getting a gay dude versus the chances of getting a baby rapist are just too damn close that I just wouldn't chance that shit.

I'd also have to discriminate against the Mexicans. I respect Mexicans. I love the fact that when one of them gets a place to lay his head, everybody gets a place to lay his head. If only we had more of that shit in the black community, people and family members helping each other out. But, come on. You rent your place to a nice sweet Mexican family with a cute little boy named Juan. And the next thing you know you got Mexicans hanging all over your place, coming outta the woodwork like roaches. Now as a building owner, we can't be having that shit. The mothafuckin' Mexicans have got to go.

So the Mexicans aren't left lonely, I'd also have to say goodbye to any Middle Easterners. This includes, Arabs, Muslims of any race, and India people. If they got one of those Arab type names like Ali or Muhammed or Elijah, they ass don't get in. We don't need any suspected terrorists living in our place.

So, with that stated, you might be asking yourself who would I let in. Well, I'd let old couples in. Not single old people, but old married people, thirty to forty plus year old married couples. Old single people tend to stink up the house and leave shit around and grow fungus and roaches in their places. That's just a part of getting old, you can't really take care of yourself anymore. But old people together work out just fine. I guess it's because they're not alone, they tend to upkeep shit better, and go outside, and go to the doctor, you know, generally take care of themselves and their shit better. Plus, they aren't as crabby and mean. Everybody has a memory of some old chick throwing hot water down from her window because as a kid you were making too much noise.

So, there you have it, unless you're old and married, you won't be getting into my place. Of course, with the present divorce rates in America, there probably won't be many of them as it is. So, I guess I won't be having that many tenants. And eventually I'll be forced to let in all the asshole who will completely tear my shit up. Unless, of course, I fill them up with people who are stereotypically seen as peaceful and docile-like, like the Asians. Yeah, old Asian couples. Can you say Chinatown?

God's Connect

2005-04-17T07:27:00.000-05:00

I was about to do this shit on Al' Tariq. But I was doing some research on Google and found out these beyotches beat me to the punch. I guess that's what you get for being a lazy procrastinating bastard. Oh well. It's probably for the best because they knew more about the dude than I did, and they probably did a better job than I would have. I would have just half-assed this shit and stole crap off of other people's sites like I normally do. I'm all about that copyright infringement.

Although, I will add that this is another case for bad distribution keeping a good album down. Shit like that happened a lot when dudes started going independent in the mid 90s. They would get on some start up backward label, or some label that wasn't used to dealing with hip-hop, and that shit would come out and nobody would know. I honestly didn't know this shit had dropped until two years after it was released. I had heard the singles, was anticipating the album, and I never heard word if the shit had come out. If it wasn't for the Internet, I wouldn't have even heard this shit.

I first heard it when I downloaded a cheap, fucked up 128 rip of it off an ftp in 98 . I finally got ahold of a decent 160 rip a year later off of Napster. I got a physical version of this shit off Ebay in 2000. And I finally heard the vinyl version of this shit 2 years later with the Nikki song on it from a Internet crew I used to run with back in the day. So, no mstter what the big dogs may say, the Internet has helped to spread the love far more than it has added to the hate. A lot of "lost" art will be preserved because this shit.

Anyway, since my present attempt at writing something informative and worthwhile is off the table, I think it's best that I return to what I do best: bullshitty gibberish. Not that bullshitty gibberish is easy to do. In fact, it's quite hard. I went to college and got that edamacation and earned that dez-gree so I cans a learnin' how to do the writin' like this. It took a decade to gets my shit to the top quality like it is. That's how I'm able to entertain and inform the few stupid mothafuckas who come across this shitty ass site.

I work hard to get you two or three what you need to make it through the days and weeks ahead. I'm sure without me, y'all would've committed the suicide right about now. So, I guess, in the end, doing this shit on this site keeps me in the good graces of Allah, and out of the fiery grips of the devil. Without this shit, I probably wouldn't be gettin' into heaven. So, I guess I gotta say, Thanks Blogger, all praise the greatness of the Invention, the fortitude of His strength, and the magnificence of His glory.

Pretty much the same Al' Tariq shit.

Al' Tariq - God Connections

I honestly don't know how long this one's staying up. Think it's permanant for the time being.

Juicin' For The Future

2005-04-14T19:54:00.000-05:00

You know something, boys and girls. Doc is sad. No. Doc is angry. No. Doc is sad and angry. Why? Because Doc don't make nobody wet.

See. I've been all over these Internets (And who would have thunk there really were more than one Internets. Bush, you are a fuckin' genius.) and Doc has seen some really strange shit. Everywhere I turn, beyotches are proclaiming their wetness in weblog, comment, and forum posts. And I've read that there's this dude that gives beyotches orgasm through the fuckin' telephone wires. I've also read how beyotches find that they have to rub themselves raw while reading other dude's blog posts. And I'm wondering, how come Doc don't make beyotches' cootchies wet?

I'm a peaceful, smart brother with a good head on his shoulders. I speak honestly and forthright. I love the beyotches, and their cootchies. Why don't I give chicks orgasms through these Internet wires? How come these freaky chicks don't read my shit and get moist between the legs? Is it because I'm a misogynist pig, who has seemingly shown nothing but utter contempt for the female sex on his site? Is it because I use beyotch all the time? Is it because I come off like some hermit-like asshole who hates everything good and honest in the world.

By the way I heard that Rick Schroeder (I bet I fucked that one up.) said that country music exemplifies everything good in American. I wonder why real white music exemplifies everything good about America, and really black music exemplifies everything filthy and dirty about our great nation? Why is that?

Anyway. I forgot where I was. Oh yeah. Beyotches wet pussy. I ask every woman who will ever come across this weblog to forgive me. Although I doubt many women will. I get a lot of hits for naked women, like Playboy models, and Patricia Heaton. I did find one weird link in my site stats. It was a google search for Scott Petersen naked. I literally did a spit take when I saw that shit. Esther Baxter, Amy Sue Cooper, even Patricia Heaton (By the way, she has a nice pair on her old ass. I'd do her.), but fuckin' Scott Petersen. That search must have been made by one of those crazy groupie prison beyotches. You know, the ones they say be sending lettters to dudes behind bars, which is the same exact kind of admiration I'm looking forward.

But I can't get that shit because I'm not clean and successful like a good Christian man should be. And I'm not dirty enough like a filthy ass gangbangin' thug should be. See, beyotches, I'm normal. I'm an in-between man, meaning I'm always trying to get in between them thighs. Ha-Ha. Just kidding, beyotches.

Let me explain it further. I wish I was a better human being, but I'm not. I wish I was successful, but I'm not. What I am is a man who has never cheated on a woman, even though I thought about it. And I've never smacked a woman, though I've been close on occasion. Hell, in real life, I very seldom curse. I just do it under my breath a lot. And I very seldom ever call women, beyotches. Although I do use chick a lot.

In fact, I call my male friends beyotches more than I call women that shit. I literally walk in the room and say, What up, beyotches. And I normally get a What up, beyotch back, or I get a lazy fuck you. And we go about our shit. I wish I had a cleaner vocabulary, but my word count only reaches about 10,000 words, which is why I say fuck and shit a lot. It covers up for not knowing crap. Also, add crap to that list.

But that ignorance isn't my fault. In true victimization mode, I'd rather blame the shitty school system. Fuck you, shitty school system. If it wasn't for you, I'd probably be banging a big bootied model chick right now. And I'd also like to blame, uh, rap music. Yeah, rap music. That shit's been sullying my mind since I was a pre-teen. And I bet from listening to all that Too Short and Schooly D and Ice T and NWA, I've learned to use beyotch like it was the or but. Shit. If it wasn't for rap music I'd probably be an upstanding, female loving Baptist. But because of it and rock music, I'm just straight up fucked.

And that's why I need all you beyotches, I mean, women to show a brother some love. Because without it, I'd probably stay this way forever. And that's a bad thing. And to do that, I need all the women's cootchies to collectively get wet for me. I need to feed off that universal wetness, to suck up all that cootchieness deep within my heart.

Now, you might say that you could just send me a card, or a nice email, or leave a sweet comment on my blog. But see, that shit won't work on a brother like me because I'm fucked up. A fucked up man can only understand fucked up things. I've been conditioned to see women's love and worth through their cootchie, titties and ass.

It's what every young man learns everyday when they watch Rap City or check out MTV Jams or watch BET Uncut. A woman don't love a nigga unless she's pushing that ass and titty in his face. And that's how I've been conditioned. You don't love me unless you're willing to get naked for me. I know that shit ain't right. And I wish there was a better way. But goddammit, there ain't. And girls, I just don't have that much time. Before long, like I stated before, I'll be stuck this way.

And that's why I need you all to get naked, preferably right now, and think long and hard about a brother, preferably me, and get yourselves juicin' really good, preferably in the crotch area, like cry me a river type juicin', a fuckin' river runs through it type juicin'. Because, in the end, you'll be doing it for America, for the entire human race, and possibly, for all life within the universe.

Sweat From My Balls

2005-04-13T17:32:00.000-05:00

What's that Jay-Z line: We live in hard knocks, we don't take over, we borrow blocks / Burn em down and you can have it back, daddy, I'd rather that.

Balboa Observer-Picayune
An Arrested Development fan site.

Sweat From My Balls

I was hanging out at a friends house recently. Well, it wasn't his place. It was his sister's. The whole time there, I kept hearing loud sounds coming from the back. I asked him what was going on back there? Was there some work being done. He told me, nope, that it was just his sister's boyfriend.

He went on to tell me that her sister had started dating this guy whose occupation was as a pharmaceutical distributor. He sold drugs. Apparently, he asked her to let him work out of the back of the apartment building, since she was the custodian and could give him easy access in and out.

The sound I kept hearing was from him getting his drugs from out of a crack in the wall in the back hallway. There had been a little hole in the corner of the back hallway by the stairs. The drug dealing boyfriend had widened and deepened the hole so that he could stash his drugs in it. And he would place a broken off brick chunk on top of it so it wouldn't be easy to remove the stash.

I guess when he needed product, he would run inside the building, lift the brick chunk from out the hole, take what he needed out, and stick the rest back in the hole. The only problem I saw with the plan was that everybody in the building knew where he hid his shit. Why? Because every time he took the brick chunk out, it would scrape against the wall, and the sound was one of the loudest shits I ever heard. And this shit would go on until around three in the afternoon. I guess that's when he got off "work."

I have to say, even though I hate drug dealers with a passion, I'd have to commend this one for one thing. They said him and his crew would get dropped off at the spot everyday at seven in the morning like fuckin' Mexican day laborer, even the weekends. Everybody in the neighborhood knew when they got on the scene, because the silence and tranquility would be broken up by shitty ass rap music and a whole fuckin crop of loud talking. My man would quickly hit the back of the building and be let in by my friend's sister. And then the screeching shit would start.

While I was there, he came in at least 6 to 8 times an hour, and each time we would hear this loud fuckin' screeching sound. This shit was so loud you could hear it throughout the building. I'm sure that shit got on the nerves of everybody inside. But I guess I know why nobody had ever called the cops, or at least admitted to doing that shit.. Who the fuck looks forward to a bullet in the ass. We all know how the cops operate. You call. They do their little sweep shit. They stick around for a couple of minutes. Then they leave, and the fuckin' drug dealers come back. So, you watch your step, act like you don't see or hear shit, and hope that everything will turn out okay.

But it must've been hard for the building's residents to do that shit because this bastard was loud as fuck. Outside of the screeching, his fuckin' phone constantly rang. And this beyotch constantly called upstairs for food and water and other dumb shit like that. It was almost like he didn't give fuck, which is probably because he didn't give a fuck.

In the end, I put money on the sister being out of a place and a job in a couple of months. And all because she was in love. And it didn't hurt that he had dough to throw her way. Plus, he probably stuck it to her halfway every once and awhile. But you gotta wonder if being broke and homeless is worth a little love, ass and gleam.

Matt Hardy, YOU'RE FIRED!

2005-04-12T05:28:00.000-05:00

I can't believe this shit. It's unbelievable, said as if I was doing a really bad Barbarino impression. They gave my man, Matt Hardy, the pink slip this week. Why? Because his stank ass woman, Lita, cheated on him with his greasy ass ex-friend, Edge.

How the fuck does that go. I do nothing wrong. I work my ass off from a leg injury. I'm told that I'll get my spot back at Wrestlemania in a six man ladder match. And the next thing I know, I find out my girl has been secretly talking to my best friend behind my back. I break up with the slut. I'm taken off Wrestlemania because the boys upstairs believe I might go off on my greasy ass ex-friend, and not in a fake good way. I'm told I'll get put back into rotation after Wrestlemania. And instead, they fire my ass right after the big show. Now if that isn't a crap load of, well, crap, I don't know what else is.

And I bet it hurts even more that that sleazy ass ex got featured on Wrestlemania, even though she's still injured, and she sucks at wrestling to begin with, and the best friend she cheated on him with won the ladder match and will get a future program with the world champion. Now my man, Hardy, who I hoped would be traded to Smackdown to help build a decent upper mid-card division is now most likely TNA bound, to rejoin his brother Jeff, and possibly regain tag team gold, even though on a lesser scale.

I can honestly see Hardy in the X Division, although he might be a little too big, or possibly in the heavyweight division, taking on Jeff Jarrett, the current champion, and part TNA owner.

Jesus, Save Our Souls

2005-04-11T23:16:00.000-05:00

Don't worry. No more Franklin for the time being. In fact, I think that's my last Franklin picture. So, you won't be seeing his image around here. Although, I think I might just pitch that show to a major network. Of course, I'd have to change the name of it, seeing as most of Hollywood is filled with a bunch of greedy bastards, and I'd most likely see a lawsuit from Opie, even though my Franklin, although based on his Franklin, would be a totally different Franklin when I'd finish developing the show. Funny how that goes. When Opie needs people like me giving a little shine to one of his failing shows, it's all good, take what you want, use Franklin all you want. But when I make Franklin big, it's all like, where's my money at, brother.

So, without Franklin to fall back on, I find myself stuck. I could either not post, or talk about Blue Beetle getting a cap in his head at the end of DC Countdown, or bitch majorly over the Batman books bringing back Jason Todd, after, of course, he's been beaten senseless by the Joker and is left for dead in a warehouse where Joker sets a timed bomb to explode.

Afterwards, Batman sees the explosion, pulls the dying body out, and Jason Todd dies in his arms. Now I'm supposed to believe that somehow this little bastard survived that shit. Completely unreal. You have the greatest detective ever with a dead body in his arms, and for some reason, he has no clue that the body is dead. My guess is that they're gonna pull some supernatural voodoo out of the woodworks, or some weird fuckin' serum that brings dead bodies back to life. It's gonna be some dumb shit. Which is why I probably need to stop reading comic books.

Although, I have been getting hyped up over this Infinite Crisis stuff. I figure that they wouldn't use Crisis unless they were going to reference that Infinite Earths crap from the 80s. And the big story everyone is looking forward to is Batman versus the Justice League. Batman is pissed off that some of the Leaguers mind wiped him, and knowing Batman, that dude wants serious retribution. Of course, with pretty much all of these major comic book crossovers, there will be overkill. I just don't see myself picking up these side issues like OMAC or Villains United. Although the Villains title might have been decent if there were more than one A-list villain, namely, Lex Luthor. The rest of those dudes I barely even know. And most of these books will probably suck anyway. But I can't deny that crossover fever has hit the comic book world, and DC has done a pretty decent job so far on the initial start.

Revisions

2005-04-08T17:12:00.000-05:00

Damn. I had some new pictures to put up, but Blogger won't let me, and I'm too lazy to resize and post links to them. I've been trying to post them for over the last two days. I still got three more Rosario Dawson's and about 14 Nicole Narain's from Smooth and XXL. I keep trying to post this shit, and it keeps blinking, and then nothing. And when I use Hello, I just get an error message after 10 fuckin' minutes. I can't deal with this shit.

By the way, The Franklin Show has undergo some changes. Since I doubt Beyonce would be stupid enough to pull an Eve move and scrap her successful music career for a crappy sitcom, I've dropped her from the show. And I've added none other than Kelly Rowland, her singing partner. Now you might say Kelly is kind of fucked up. But since she's got rid of that crappy hairdo and started growing a tiny amount of fatback on her small frame, she's started to look pretty decent. So, for now, she's my new wife. Of course, this could change if I think of another really hot chick, or if some big-bootied latina pops before my eyes.

I've also decided to add a nemesis. Somebody like Newman. Everybody needs a Newman. I think I'll call mine, Oliver Willis. This dude will be a really greasy black dude, somebody who looks like Al Roker, but younger. And he'll live next door to me, always snooping on me like that beyotch from Bewitched, getting in my business, always talking shit.

See, he has problems with my Ebonics and my pure African blackness. He can't stand that I come Kings and Queens from African, and he thinks I ain't down for the right fuckin causes, which are all determined by him. Every show, I'll call his greasy ass, Black Kojak, or Eightball Negro, or some other dumb shit like that. And in every episode, his ass will lose, even when I'm talkin' complete and utter bullshit.

But shit, it's my show. That's how the shit's gon' be.

Everybody Hates Doc

2005-04-06T20:58:00.000-05:00

I hate network comedies. Why? Because those shows are completely unrealistic. They always got some fat greasy According-To-Jim type dude married to some hot mamacita like Courtney Thorne Smith. That shit ain't right. How the fuck could a Jim Belushi-type dude end up with a hot piece of ass like Courtney? That shit don't even look right.

And what's even more amazing about this show is that they got a fat-headed giant belly dude playing Courtney's brother. How the fuck did that ugly muthafucka come out the same womb that Courtney and her hot ass lil sister come out of? When I first caught that show, I thought that fat dude was just Jim's buddy or co-worker. But they had to suspend that level of disbelief and make him part of the family. I swear, I completely lost it. I decided on that day that I would never watch that show ever again. Of course, I was lying.

I recently caught the show. And I could have sworn that Courtney's headlights were showing. I'm thinking, that shit can't be right. This is supposed to be a family show, right? And she has this tight ass sweater, or t-shirt, or whatever, and her nipples are poking right through. It was completely obvious. I couldn't even pay attention to what was going on in the scene. Not that that really mattered much. I mean, it was According to Jim. But still, edit, reshoot the scene, do something. I know if I noticed that shit, everybody who watched that shit noticed it, too. Which makes it even more unbelievable that a greasy ass muthafucka like Belushi would be poking a hot piece of ass like Courtney on a regular basis. That shit ain't right.

Hot chicks don't end up with greaseballs, unless, of course, they got dough. Hot chicks end up with hot dudes, or fucked up dudes with major bank accounts. And average type chicks end up with decent looking dudes, or good looking dudes, or balding dudes with a little cash in the bank. If a beyotch is a crackhead, she ain't fucking just another crackhead, she's fuckin' another crackhead who can get her crack, or a sober dude who can get her crack, or the muthafuckin' crack dealer, himself. If you can't get a beyotch crack, she ain't fuckin with you.

It's like the Clinton Plan. You got a beyotch like Hillary and she hooks up with some fucked up, hot wing eating redneck who wouldn't mind slurping beer and killing possums all day. And she thinks, I ain't fuckin with him, unless I get his ass doing something respectful, something I won't be ashamed about. So, this Hillary chick nags and bullshits and pulls this Willy dude by his nuts all the way through law school, and ultimately, to politics. She gets his ass in the Governors chair, and later, into the presidency.

Now the thing is, this Willy type dude probably would have been just as happy back in Arkansas fuckin chickens and shit. But since this Hillary beyotch been programming his ass, this Willy dude can't see himself without politics, or without her. He thinking, knowing this Hillary chick ain't been all bad. I mean he ain't in Arkansas, and he ain't dead like he's supposed to be, and part of him knows that he wouldn't be healthy and rich if it wasn't for this beyotch. And all he had to do was give his life up to her, lose any speck of personal liberty and freedom, and accept nagging as his primary way of communication. And shit, to get back at the beyotch, to rebel, all he has to do is bang fucked up greasy beyotches behind his woman's back every once and awhile. And don't it make that shit extra sweet when them affairs get leaked to the public.

The only thing Willy don't know is that Hillary has been planning her own future as well. When he leaves the presidency, she's planning on running for Congress. And that's when the real bad shit starts. There's a reason why chicks use the excuse that they've outgrown you. What that really means is that she was broke and fucked up when she met you, and now that she's got a little dough, yo' ass is history. See, Hillary has been plotting self-determination since the day she met him, and partly, she's been using Willy to get there. Eventually Hillary will have outgrown Willy and she will eventually kick his ass to the gutter.

Now, that's the type of shit a real family comedy should be based on. Let's say a show is created called The Franklin Show. Now, I play this wise crackin, honky hating, black dude living in the city with his hot ass wife and their two adorable children. My wife would have to be played by somebody hot like Vanessa Williams. Now, you might find that choice quite odd because, well, Vanessa is kinda of old. But recently, I saw this Johnson Family Vacation movie and Vanessa Williams was looking kind of hot in that shit. In fact, I was staring at her ass more than I was looking at Beyonce's sister, who plays the daughter in the movie. Funny thing, I kept laughing for no apparent reason whenever her ass popped on the screen. I think it had something to do with her being married and pregnant by the time she turned 17. If I didn't know how rich and uppity the Knowles were, I could've sworn I grew up next to this fuckas in the projects.

Anyway, back to my show. I wouldn't mind Vanessa playing my wife, although Beyonce would be nicer. Me and Beyonce live in this nice big fuckin house in the city, and her mother lives in the attic. Not the basement, but the attic. And across the street there's this white Republican couple who always likes dropping by our house. They'd have to be named something really white like Biff and Tammy. Of course, I call them cracker or honky every show. I know this has been done before on the Jeffersons, but I'd put a new spin on it like hook-ass crackas, or Saltines, Saltine ass honkies, or Ritz eating devils, some shit like that.

And the new spin is that Beyonce, my hot wife, will be plotting and nagging me every episode into bigger and better things. And like a man, my job will be to keep her ass down with every opportunity. She'll nag me to go for shitty ass jobs I don't want, and I'll be trying to get her pregnant every week. A beyotch ain't good if she ain't broke, naked and pregnant. And that's what my character'll be going for every week. And our kids'll get in the act, too. Except they'll be really fucked up. One of our kids'll be a thirteen year old horny slut. And our seven year old boy'll be killing small animals and trying to molest his best female friend. Of course, there will be a old white bitch on the show just so I can say I ain't kissin' no old white beyotch every other week.

I personally think this shit'll be a classic, a fuckin' hit. Plus, it'll be edgy enough that the hipsters and the fuckin' wasteland bloggers will write about my shit. Jesse, Sharpton and the other uppity negros will have to grandstand and protest against my amazing piece of work. The shit'll blow up. Eventually, people will be saying my catchphrases on the street. And I'll get tired of that shit. And when the show ends, I'll go into seclusion and nobody will hear from me for decades. I'll die. And the world will proclaim me the greatest comedian ever.

Yeah. I like that shit.

Real Big Willie Style

2005-04-06T20:57:00.000-05:00

Da Beat Terrorists Present Big Willie Smith

This will be up permanantly for the time being. It's a 128 rip, so the quality ain't great. But if you ever wanted to hear this, here it is.

In The Arse

2005-04-05T20:22:00.000-05:00

A white man always has his hands up the ass of a brother. ALWAYS! It's just the way shit is. I was reading another fuckin article about how dudes get fucked in the music biz. I always wondered why big record labels would fuck with old dudes like Krs-One and Clark Kent, put these brothers on staff, and have them shill for the company. It's all bait and switch.

Although I understand that shit. You get somebody like myself, somebody who still loves this shit, and you have me go around to stupid young fucks and hype they fuckin' style up. You tell these little adolescents how good they sound and how the company you work for wants to put mad dough into their shit. And you tell them that nobody will fuck with their style, that they'll still be able to put on the same bullshit they've been putting on. And a brother like me, since I believe that shit, will come off straight up truthful-like. Only thing is, it'll be all bullshit. Because I'm essentially workin' for the devil, and the devil don't give a fuck.

The devil will eventually fuck you over. And that's how all these artists end up. They get they shit put out, put millions in the industry, and find out in the end that they ain't gettin shit but 4, maybe 5, g's for the shit they just topped charts with. And they really ain't got that, because they asses in the hole to the company for millions still. And the sad thing is, since the devil's a vicious muthafucka, that dude's gonna talk these broke muthafuckas into borrowing more money on their next shit, putting that ass even deeper in debt. It's one of the reasons why groups like a Tribe Called Quest break up. Dude's selling millions and still gotta live with their mamas.

Now that's what I call some sick shit. And that's why a brother always gotta respect the devil. What's that saying: keep your friends close and your enemy closer.

Further Adventures

2005-04-04T21:57:00.000-05:00

Lord Quas shit is dead.

Wrestlemania Results

2005-04-03T23:47:00.000-05:00

Batista defeats Triple H in a halfway decent match
Cena defeats JBL in the crapfest of the night.
Angle beats HBK in the predicted match of the night
Mysterio defeats Guerrero for nothing
Stratus defeats Hemme in another crapfest
Akebono over Big Show in another really big shitfest
Undertaker kills Orton in a not-so-bloody matchup
And Edge wins the ladder match, and a future heavyweight shot against Batista

Wrestlemania Preview

2005-04-03T05:04:00.000-05:00

This year's Wrestlemania isn't as fully loaded as last year's. There only will be three title defenses this year. They've kept off the Intercontinental Championship, the United States Championship, both tag titles, and the Cruiserweight Championship. The only three titles that will be defended are the two heavyweight championship titles, and the Women's Championship title. I have no idea why they're having a Women's Championship match. Perhaps it has something to do with the popularity of Christy Hemme, who was just featured in a Playboy pictorial. It probably won't be that great of a match, simply because Hemme can't wrestle. I assume they're having the match so we can see Christy in that skimpy pink outfit of hers. It's T&A without blatantly being T&A.

The funny thing is that the two heavyweight matches probably won't be that great either. For the Smackdown title, we have the reigning champ, JBL, against the white boy street thug, John Cena. They both can't really wrestle worth shit, so this shit should be mostly power moves, possibly a brawl, with JBL getting busted open. Hopefully, Cena won't win. I think if he wins, his heat will go way down. A main event face is only good when he has a top heel to go against, and he's chasing the title. Right now, JBL is the top heel, and he's pretty good at it. It just doesn't make sense for him to lose the title just yet. Plus, I think JBL still needs to have that title hanging over his shoulder to continue to keep his heel heat. Without it, he's just a pretty decent mid-card heel.

The other sloppy match is for the Raw title, which is between Triple H, the champ, and Batista, his former protege. Batista can't wrestle worth crap either, which means that this match should be mostly plodding power moves also. The match will probably be better only because Triple H, no matter how much you hate him, is still a pretty damn fine wrestler. And also, Batista still has that public face shine, if only because people really want Triple H to get his ass kicked. That's why I predict Triple H will lose to Batista. The public really wants it. I suspect that's the main reason Batista still has people chanting his name. Give it a couple of months, and like Randy Orton, people will be begging Batista to turn back heel, which might not be such a bad thing. A heel champion Batista seems better in the long view than a face champion Batista. But I guess it depends on how crappy Batista's post Wrestlemania reign is.

After the two heavyweight matches, the third most important match on the card is the Kurt Angle v Shawn Micheals inter-brand showdown. I honestly can't predict the outcome of this shit, but it should be good. Both wrestlers are still pretty good in the ring. And they both know how to pace that shit and put on a show. Nothing's really on the line. Neither man will face each other after Wrestlemania. At least I don't think so. And I don't believe one man's back stage clout outweighs the other. So, who knows how this shit will end up, but this should be the match of the night, if not the match of the year.

Next up is Randy Orton v the Undertaker. This one seems pretty easy to predict. Undertaker has an undefeated streak going into this Wrestlemania like always. Orton is going out with shoulder surgery after Wrestlemania. I just don't see Randy Orton winning this shit. They could do something crazy and unpredictable, but I doubt it. This shit should be brutal though, with Randy Orton ultimately doing some heavy blading and bleeding all over the fuckin' place. This shit should be all about spectacle, leading up to a bloody Orton getting tombstoned either on an announce table or on some hard surface. This shit should be all about Randy Orton looking good while getting his ass kicked, much like Shawn Micheals and Mick Foley before him.

The crappiest, and possibly quickest match, on the card should be the Akebono v Big Show match. I personally see no purpose in having this match, other than they really wanted Big Show doing something during the big show. This shit can only end like crap, either with a draw, or a disqualification, or with Akebono winning, which I just don't see Big Show putting up with. I doubt if this shit lasts longer than five minutes. In fact, I suspect the Piper's Pit segment with Stone Cold will last longer, with Stone Cold stunning Roddy Piper, or somebody. Shit, somebody has to get stunned for that shit to be worth anything.

The last two matches are pretty much throwaway matches. They could've been far more, but current storylines and politics probably prevented that shit. Rey Mysterio v Eddie Guerrero was supposed to be Booker T v Eddie Guerrero, but Booker T fucked himself over and put on some horrendous matches earlier this year, one, a preview between him and Guerrero. That's probably why they still had Booker T in that Pulp Fiction trailer instead of Mysterio. They just didn't have enough time to change that shit. Anyway, Mysterio took the place as Eddie's tag team partner, and now we have a pretty good match up between the two. Too bad this match ain't for a title or something. It could've brought added heat to the match. But still, on paper, this should be the second best match on the card, if it's given enough time.

The other inconsequential match is the Money-In-The-Bank Ladder Match between, Edge, Christian, Benoit, Benjamin, Jericho, and Kane. This match is for a future heavyweight title defense. This match should have been for the Intercontinental title. But I understand why it isn't. You have three main eventers participating: Benoit, Jericho and Edge. I'm sure the bookers, and maybe even the wrestlers, didn't want to be fighting for some second tier title since they want to continue to look like they're still in the hunt for the heavyweight title. Fighting for the Intercontinental title would lower their status, Edge said as much on camera, defending why he didn't want the tag titles. It's one of the good problems Raw has, it's overloaded with main eventers.

That's why I'll continue to say that Jericho and another top wrestler, maybe Orton when he comes back, or Edge, needs to be shipped over to Smackdown after Wrestlemania. Jericho shouldn't be going for the Intercontinental title again. He could actually be main eventing Raw or Smackdown. The same with Edge or Orton. Earlier, I wanted Edge, but I wouldn't mind Orton, with possibly a defection by Matt Hardy, since Edge and Matt Hardy shouldn't be on the same show together, which is one of the reasons why Kane is in a match he has no business being in.

But I won't go any further into trades that may or may not happen. For now, I'm half-heartedly looking forward to tonight's show. It doesn't seem like it's much. But who knows, this could be the greatest Wrestlemania ever. I just wrote that last shit to seem optimistic. I don't really mean it.

Wrestlemania 21
Vote for Your Favorite Trailer

PMOY 2005

2005-04-03T03:49:00.000-05:00

I guess it's official. Tiffany Fallon is the new Playmate of the Year. That makes three brunettes in a row. The same can be said for the Cyber Girl of the Year, which is voted on by the Cyber Club public. I don't know if it means anything. I doubt it by the selection of this present year's Playmates. In fact, I think this year will eventually have more fake hootered blondes than ever before. Maybe it's Hef's way of rebelling. He's gonna make us love them bleach blonde mamas he keeps around him so much, shove them down our throats. Although, I wouldn't really consider that a completely bad thing. Biscuits, gravy, jelly and a fat booty is all a brother need to get his freak on. I'd slurp it all up in the booty crack. That's how I do this.

Anyway, getting back to where I was before, I think blondes are sorta played out, especially in Playboy. I've seen too many naked blondes. I've said it before, but I wouldn't mind seeing more blacks, latinas, or asians naked in the pages of Playboy. And seeing how the public went Hiromi crazy for Playmate of the Year, I think the rest of the Playboy audience wants more diversity, too.

I wasn't a real big Hiromi fan. And I suspect that that asian girl fetish shit played into the popularity of Hiromi. White boys can't resist naked asian chicks. I think it might be the same for all American born dudes of all races, but it's really bad with the white boy crowd. Put a naked asian chick in front of a white boy, and he'll have his dick out trying to start a circle jerk in 60 seconds. And the fact that Hiromi has them big fake breasts only makes her even more appealing. But to each his own.

I would have preferred Pilar Lastra, or even Nicole Whitehead, to contradict myself. But I can live with Ms. Fallon, although she really didn't register on my radar. But in the end, naked is naked, and naked is good. Plus, Tiffany isn't all bad. She's kind of hot. You can check her out below.

Tiffany1
Tiffany2

The Pope is Dead

2005-04-02T14:32:00.000-06:00

I wish I had chose April 2nd. I think I chose either the 14th or the 17th. I think it was sometime later in April. Now I feel bad. Because the Pope is dead. Could've pushed shit another week or two. Then we'd both be happy.

Either way. Good night, old man. If you got a God, it must feel good as shit to be in heaven. Most of us will never know that shit.

S.K.I.T.S.

2005-04-01T04:51:00.000-06:00

I guess I got another one for my year end top ten list, that being Blueprint's 1988. The other is the Game shit from January. Blueprint keeps amazing me. Each time I underestimate his shit, each time he tops himself. Of course, I don't wanna sound like I'm riding on his shit. His vocals can still be annoying. And the majority of the time he's bitchin' and whinin'. Somebody's always stealing his style, or not understanding his shit right, or not doing right by him. I wonder if he gets that half the shit he puts on other people can be applied to himself. At times he sounds like just another underground hater, like myself. Yet, he seems to try to distance himself from the hateration. You can't talk about it and not be about it at the same time.

Of course, I hope he never reads this shit because I don't want him to kick my ass. Although I have the feeling he probably couldn't. He says he could knock my fuckin' teeth out, but I doubt it. Some rappers you believe that shit, that they could actually fuck you up. I think Notorious might have been able to beat the shit out of me, possibly even Tupac, but definitely Biggie. Most other rappers I don't know about. I think Ghostface and Raekwon could probably fuck me up, but I don't know about Jadakiss and Cassidy. I wonder about them two. 50 could probably whup my ass. He looks like a filthy ass street muthafucka, but I might be able to beat Young Buck's ass. There are just some people who look the part, while the rest of them look and sound like they're fakin'.

Not that I'm saying that Blueprint is faking it. It just that he sounds like my cousin. I got a cousin who's like one of them big shot business big wigs. He works at a top financial agency. The dude is straight up respectful, and is married with two kids. He's a deacon at his church and lives the right life. He's always done things straight.

He's also always been a hustler. He used to have me and my other cousins and his brothers out on the corner selling shit for him. Not illegal shit. More like candy and magazines and shit like that. He used to go to the store and buy food and cook that shit up and have us sell that shit on the street. He'd keep most of the profits and throw a little change to our little asses.

He's always worked strong like that. But I never ever felt like he was the hardest dude I've known. I never heard or seen him get into a fight. And he's always carried himself in such a way that I've always seen him, I don't if I'd use the term soft, just straight, just always straight and narrow like. Now, there ain't shit wrong with that. Hell, that brother is like the richest dude in my family. I guess he's been blessed for all that clean living. Sometimes I wish I was more like him. I just know his style ain't no where close to my shit.

I could never be happy living like he lives, with the wife and the two kids and the Sunday sermons. I couldn't live with always being on, and always having to say the right shit to people. Shit, I figure if you can't be honest with people once and awhile, and talk shit, and do real shit, you can't really be living or happy. And sometimes being honest means not always being happy. It's like if you would rather be ignorant and happy, or know shit and be in constant despair. Unfortunately, I choose that bleak shit. It's just how I roll.

Anyway, getting back to Blueprint, that's how I see that brother, like my cousin. I'm not saying he's clean. He just comes across as clean. He sounds like somebody who has their shit together, just that his shit is too well put together. Like his shit is so clean, it's has to be dirty as fuck. Some people's shit seem too perfect to be true. Or that shit is too perfect that it has to be complete bullshit. Blueprint seems like he's always trying to school dudes, like his shit is straight up rosy. And no brother has their shit together like that. That's why I don't trust'em. When he says that he's hard, he has to be lying. But I could be wrong. He could be one tough son of a bitch. Who knows.

You know who I really fear, little fuckin' teenagers. I can't lie. I see a pack of teenagers coming down the street, I swear I wanna react like a white woman and run to the other side. And that's because teenagers are a bunch of crazy muthafuckas. They brains ain't developed completely, or some shit like that. They don't think straight. And half the time they just react. And that's when a brother gets hurt. Like that Lord Finesse song, S.K.I.T.S., Shorties Kaught In The System, those little teenage bastards are the ones that'll fuck you up quick, and laugh at your ass while you're bleeding on the fuckin ground. I doubt if 30 year old dudes still beat the shit outta people for stepping on their shoes. But teenagers do.

I was driving home tonight and saw a bunch of little girls beat the shit out of another chick. They whupped her ass all the way down the street. I wanted to get out of the car and stop that shit. But I knew I didn't wanna get my ass kicked. Who knows who one of those little beyotches is connected to. One minute I'm acting all adult like and trying to stop shit, the next minute I'm getting my ass stomped out by nine little 16 year old thug bastards trying to protect the honor of some little 14 year old slutty tramp. That shit ain't never happened to me before, getting the shit stomped out of me by a teenager. But I've seen that shit happen to others. And I know I don't want that shit happening to me.

I might have told this story before. Forgive me if I have. I was on the bus one night. I look out the window and there's this old dude riding on a bike getting the shit beat out of him by a bunch of adolescents. Now, the dude's getting the shit beat outta him and he's still paddling, while some of the lil bastards are on foot, and some of the others are on their bikes, and they're fuckin' up this old dude all the way down the street, throwing rocks and bricks at his ass, kicking him and punching him in the face. Eventually, the ass whupping gets to be too much and the old dude topples over, and the kids surround his ass, and they're stomping the shit out of him.

At this point, the bus stops at a red light. And everybody on the bus is looking at this shit. The weird shit is that nobody decides to get off the bus to go help the old dude, including me. And when the light turns green, the bus driver drives the fuck off without even calling anybody over the system. And the sad thing is I understand that shit because the only weird shit, the only crazy shit, that could've happened is that one of us decided to get brave and get off the bus, and that shit ended with one of us getting the shit kicked out of us by a crazy little bastard.

Afro-locks

2005-03-30T19:23:00.000-06:00

I fucked up. I usually title my crap on a whim. Half the time the title of an entry barely has anything to do with the crap inside that entry. And every once in awhile, I find myself writing about something that I titled an earlier entry with.

See, lately I've been eating a lot of On-Cor frozen dinners. That's what you eat when you're broke, that and frozen crap pizza. For the past month, I've eaten about a ton of Tombstones, Tony's, On-Cors and some other shit I can't name right now. Of course, I've found myself with very disturbing gastric problems, going to the toilet often, farting, diarrhea, burping. It's been bad. I've been ashamed to actually go to work. Either I stink up the office or I stink up the bathroom. That and wearing the same crap clothes everyday has made me a social leper. I've heard that people around the office have come to start calling me Brownies for some reason.

Of course, the bad stinch coming from me could also be caused by me regularly consuming White Castles and crappy tasting Big Macs. Eating them apple pies and sucking down 99 cent RC colas haven't helped. In fact, I think my left foot has been falling asleep on me lately. I might have to have that shit chopped off eventually. Oh well. I guess that's what you get when your daily diet is 89 cent 2 liter Crushes and chocolate chip cookies. I can live without feet though. It ain't like I exercise and shit. That would be crazy.

Although this tumor growing on the side of my head has become a problem. I've really had to let my caps out. Plus, the dreadlocks I've been sporting to cover the large growth on the side of my skull has gotten outrageous. I guess that's what you get when you have your cousin do your hair for five bucks every few months. I think I should start calling my shit Afro-locks since my hairdo is part afro and part braids. Shit. I'm the harbinger of the new style. Brothers'll be sporting this shit in about six to eight months. I just need to showcase this shit a little longer. Forego the laughter and shit. Bastards don't know shit about progress.

I really should go see a doctor. But doctors cost money. And you need a really decent health insurance plan, which I don't have. That's why I've learned to start doctoring on myself. I've had a bad cold the past few weeks. I went around to relatives and friends and got some of their old medicine they were prescribed when they were sick years ago. It's a great way to get shit when you ain't got shit. Although, the titties I've been growing since taking one of the medicines has started to concern me. I've never heard of cough medicine helping to grow titties on men. Which makes me think that I might be taking some type of estrogen type shit by mistake. But them the breaks.

Hopefully, if I take enough of this shit, my cold may eventually go away. Hell, I think the tumor has been shrinking as well. Although, my left nut has been getting bigger in the process. Who knows, maybe in a year or two I'll me all well, or dead. No tumor but with an enormously big left nut. Either one is good. I mean, I've been looking to get a good long nap in.

The Day Johnnie Died

2005-03-29T19:42:00.000-06:00

DAMN! This is some bullshit. Johnnie Cochran's dead. Now I can't kill nobody. I was looking forward to that shit, killing somebody. Now my lifelong dream is fuckin dead. It's DEAD! I should have known some weird shit was up when I came home and listened to my answering machine, my mothafuckin woman laughing her ass off. The beyotch was celebrating and shit. I heard her girlfriends in the background livin' it up. They ass think they safe. DAMMIT! WHY GOD, WHY?!?!

I swear to God I had shit just right. I was checking the fuckin' life insurance policies and shit. And Johnnie had to go and have a fuckin brain explosion. Shit like that tells me there ain't no fuckin' God. My God wouldn't do me like that. My God would have my fuckin' back. Now I'm fucked up like Michael. I'mma get fuckin' railroaded. Judge'll probably let in that I tried to kill my former girlfriends, allegedly. I better get ready for a raw ass.

I guess I better get ready to start acting like Mike, having weird back problems, coming outside in my fuckin' pajamas, callin' Jesse Jackson, tellin' him how the white devil has it in for my ass. It's BULLSHIT! Even though the white devil does have it in for every brother of color. I know that shit for a fact cause the white devil told me that shit one time. I was at a McDonalds eating a nasty ass Big Mac and the white devil came in. He said What up, nigga. Now, I wasn't feelin' that shit because only certain people can walk up and call me nigga, you know like my homies, my pastor, my mama. But the white devil? That's some bullshit. And he knew it. That's why he started laughing, coughing up phelgm and shit. And then he said, I got it in fo yo ass (no homo). I was like damn. Then he said, strike that no homo. Cause I really do have it in for yo ass. And then he walked away. And i got scared, not only for me, but for every brother of color in the world, and their assholes. That shit is that serious.

It's just like that time I allegedly drove that truck full of guns and pirated dvds and shit downstate. How the fuck was I supposed to know that Al Qaida was allegedly using that shit to fund their terrorist organization. All I did was allegedly take some money and allegedly hook up with a friend of mine and alledgely take a drive with him down to Florida, allegedly. There, we allegedly met some Cubans who allegedly gave us a bag of unmarked bills, and supposedly, allegedly we took that shit back up north and allegedly returned the dough to some dude who was allegedly named Starks who was allegedly connected to the mob. How the fuck was I allegedly supposed to possibly know that I was allegedly dealing with possible illegal contraband. What the fuck am I, a fuckin' psychic. I ain't got no fuckin espn and shit. What? How the fuck was I supposed to know?!? Huh?!? You tell me. It's bullshit. It's all bullshit.

And now, I got an alleged, possible murder plot that I can't even go through with no more. And who knows if that other shit's gonna come and bite me in my ass. And Johnnie Cochran's dead. And my fuckin' woman's happy and shit, probably come home tonight all drunk and shit, talkin' shit cause she know I can't kill her ass now, allegedly. Beyotch'll start spending my fuckin' money. And I'mma have to start buying bootlegs off the streets again, and have to start back on the alleged Internet piracy downloading. The fuckin' US economy'll go bust. It's all fucked up.

And the white devil laughing at my ass cause my homes ain't around no more. Now I tell you, would Baby Jesus do that to a brother? Would you Baby Jesus? I just got finished celebrating the fuckin resurrection and shit. And then you go and kill my homes, Cochran. And that Ashton K - cause I can't spell his last fuckin' name - mothafucka got a fuckin' hit movie. Now that's some fuckin' bullshit.

IT'S BULLSHIT, BABY JESUS! WHY?!? MOTHAFUCKA WHY!?!?!

I am dumbfounded and flabbergasted. Both them shits.

Two Full Pounds, One Full Toilet

2005-03-24T16:23:00.000-06:00

I've written about Terri Schiavo twice before, once actually halfway in a coherent state. And I've come to the conclusion that I didn't do this woman justice. Seeing her mother about to break down really got to me. I really feel for her family. Pretty soon they will be without their daughter, a child they've fought to hold onto for over the past 13 years. It's really heartbreaking. And what's really sad is that they've never found a way to let her go, even now. They're hoping for something that will never ever come.

I was watching Patricia Heaton on Entertainment Tonight, yesterday. You know how we all like that feeling when we learn that Brad Pitt and Heidi Klum think like we do. Anyway, Entertainment Tonight was trying to be newsworthy, having celebrities express their feelings about the case. And Patricia Heaton was talking about how she could never do that to one of her kids, pull the feeding tube and watch them die through starvation. And she started crying big time.

And I guess I could agree with her, which is why most of us probably wouldn't want our parents to have that say over a situation like this. I mean, my mother probably would keep me alive forever if she could, my head floating in some Tupperware, chilling in the freezer, waiting for some miracle cure. And I guess that's why I love her. She'd keep me alive no matter what. But I know if I ever married, my woman would make sure I died quickly. The only fear would be that she'd try to take me out before my time. I'd wake up one night with my woman trying to do a Kervorkian on a brother, a pillow over my face trying to "assist me" in "suicide."

But I guess that'd be on me, like that Michael dude is on Terri. Sometimes we get screwed over the choices we make. But it ain't nobody's fault but our own. And nobody can fix it but us. And in Terri's case, it's beyond repair. She chose an asshole, and now that asshole has been given the responsibility of making the ultimate choice in her life. Some may think he shouldn't be making that choice. But Terri made that decision long ago. She gave that dude that right long ago, and it's on her. So, I guess I'm done rubbing it in.

In fact, I think I'm kind of tired of it all, just like my man Barry. I feel like my homeboy. I'm tired, too. I'm tired of all the children playing and laughing outside. I'm tired of the young lovers holding hands in the park. I'm tired of American Idol and telephone numbers. I'm tired of Christmas. Why ain't the Pope dead, yet? Why Ain'ts I Be Gotten No Monay?

And I'm tired of Bernie Mac, who sounds more and more like Bill Cosby the more I see him. Word to Bernie, you used to be funny. Now you're not. I think you should have pulled the plug on yourself when you couldn't breathe. Then, at least we'd continue to remember you fondly. Unfortunately, you're still alive, and you're going to continue to embarrass yourself in old age. Too bad.

Live Shit

2005-03-19T17:28:00.000-06:00

Live Shit Is dead.

Caged Heat

2005-03-18T00:29:00.000-06:00

Damn. This shit has been hectic the past week. First Baretta, then my man, Scott Peterson, and now Lil Kim. And did I forget Martha. Did she get out this week or last? I'm fucked up with time. Just like I've been fucked up on this prison shit.

My man Scott gets death, but Baretta gets OFF? Bullshit. I figured they had more on Baretta than they did on my homeboy, Scott. Shit, Baretta was actually at the scene of the crime. And I think they had a fuckin murder weapon. And I think one time he admitted that he had killed the beyotch. But I could be mistaken. All I really know is that they didn't have shit on Scott. But I guess it's all a popularity contest.

The simple fact is that people love that ole' crusty bastard, Baretta, and people hate Scott Peterson. Shit, his own fuckin' adopted sister went Allred and sold his ass out for a book deal and money. The slimy beyotch. And that Bonnie chick just ain't as cute as Lacey. Bonnie looked kind of worn out. I guess people expected that beyotch to be killed by someone eventually. It was just her time. Plus, like I said, people really hate my homey, Scott. They definitely didn't have shit on him, except for the fact that he acted like a complete asshole after Lacey went missing. And you know what they say, if you don't feel bad when your girl goes missing, you must've had something to do with her disappearance. Which is complete bullshit.

Several of my chicks have gone missing in the past. And I just celebrated and laughed. Doesn't mean I killed them and buried their bodies out in the forest preserves, then moved their shit after I thought the heat was off and dumped their bodies in the lake. It doesn't mean I killed each of them with rat poison by putting the shit in their hot chocolates and watching anxiously as they drank down my funky potion. Just because after they went missing, I hit the strip clubs and hooked up with my ole' working girls. It don't mean I did anything foul, now does it?

And Kim. Fuckers from her own crew, pissed off that she rich and they broke, sold her ass out, testifying against her. And then they have the nerve to shake their fuckin' pigeon heads in shame and disbelief. Fuckin' traitors. Only good shit to come out of this shit is that Kim might actually fulfill her lesbian fantasies, showering with chicks, walking around the prison all wet and naked, doing weird freaky shit with the other inmates.

I remember this film, I think it might be Caged Heat. It could be something else entirely. I can only recall this shit by three scenes: one scene is where some dude is sniffin' coke off this beyotch's titty and shit. Another one has this real hot black chick getting out the shower, and she's wet, and she don't give a fuck that she's naked. So, she has this towel, petting her naughty parts dry and shit. And then she lays on the bed, and I think a serial killer like Jason pops up and starts killing her ass, so to speak. The third scene has the warden, dressed all sadistic and shit, with a whip in her fuckin' hand. And she's like fuckin' the shit out of the female inmates, doing weird lesbian shit with them.

Come to think of it, from that description, that isn't Caged Heat. I know I've seen Caged Heat. But I just don't think what I just described is that film. Must be some other freaky prison flick. Anyway, I think Lil Kim better study that shit, whatever it is, just so she won't get shanked or nothing. I wouldn't want Lil Kim to get shanked. That would be awful.

Maybe she won't have to serve that much time. Or maybe she'll get off easy and do time in some country estate type shit like Miss Martha had to serve in. Then, she'd at least be able to do her regular country side walks, possibly get her a white chick, and finally find peace in her fuckin life. You know, like Martha. Not that I know that for a fact. I'm not looking to get sued or anything. But don't tell me with them beyotches calling her Miss Martha, that she didn't turn out somebody. Probably had beyotches tossing her salad for some, well, um, contra band fresh vegetables so she could make tossed salad.

Anyway. All I got to say is that I'm completely and utterly disappointed with our judicial system. It sickens me that popularity rules over actual evidence. Which means I'll actually have to change up my shit on this weblog. I can't be coming off like the asshole I am. I need to come across as more likeable. Which is why I've decided to finally express my feelings of love and respect to all my readers, the two of you. I love you. And I care for you all very deeply. In my eyes, all of you are beautiful.

Now I have to go and vomit.

CGOY 2005

2005-03-14T16:57:00.000-06:00

Amy Sue Cooper

With new hooters and some newfound fatback, my first choice for Cyber Girl of the Year 2005 has won. I would have put up a pic or two but I'm too lazy to go through my cd-rs. So, you gets nothing. NOTHING! Except the satisfaction that soon all young girls will learn to truly be accepted in our society, they need really big knockers. And personally, I think that's a good thing. I shouldn't be the only person fucked up in the head around here. Plus, the more good looking chicks think they're fucked up, the more likely I'll be able to get more ass. So, continue with the poor self-esteem. Not to say any of this is Amy Sue's fault. She didn't create the epidemic. She's only a symptom. But I probably shouldn't put this shit here. I mean, I am celebrating her accomplishment. And I did enjoy her work immensely. So, YIIIPPPEEE! Congratulations! Weee! Fuck it. There go mo' money.

Mo' Money or No Money

2005-03-14T16:26:00.000-06:00

Won't be making much money off of Google Adsense. Why? Because my shit is littered with four-letter words. Once Google hits some shit it ain't kosher with, the adsense shit blacks the fuck out, like a fuckin brain spasm. And all you get is some fake ass public service announcement. And a brother can't get rich off a fuckin' public service announcement.

So, I'm fuckin' stuck. Either go clean and make money. Or be foul and stay broke. I guess you can tell what I chose. Not that I would have been making major dough off that shit, anyway. Right now, I'm pulling like 5 cent a day. Give me three years, and maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to pull one of them hundred dollar checks. Then a brother really'll be acting a fool. And the hoes. Like the great philosopher, Curtis, once said, chase money and the hoes'll come wit it, or some shit like that. At least, I think it was Curtis. It could have been Bill Clinton. One of the two.

Still, I don't know why Google don't wanna a brother to make some money. What? Do they want me stay broke? Huh? And will they take responsibility when I start robbing mothafuckas? Huh? Will they? I don't think so. But it'll be all their fault, all because they won't let me cuss and make money off their ads at the same time. I personally find that repulsive, in a non capitalistic sense.

Not that I'm a communist. Because we all know that communism is bad. I just hate the fact that Google is punishing me because I choose to remain an individual. I should be able to say fuck and make millions like my favorite rappers, or Robert DeNiro and Al Pacino. But instead I'm being blacklisted, or blackballed, which is complete bullshit.

Free Terri!

2005-03-12T07:22:00.000-06:00

All I gotta say is LET - THAT - BEYOTCH - GO!

Mothafuckas trying to fuck this woman over like that. Got her slobbin' on herself and shit. Cause her mothafuckin' eyes blinked. Shit, my old dog eyes used to blink, too. But we still put that beyotch down when she got fucked up. We kill fuckin' horses for less.

All in the name of some dumb religious shit. Woman told her man that she didn't want to live like that. The beyotch is gone. She gone! Let her ass go. Pull the fuckin' tubes. All the fuckin' courts say to let that shit go. But nope, fuckas wanna shell out million dollar checks and shit.

Where was that million dollars when my boy got shot three years ago? The hospital let his ass go and he couldn't eat right, feed his self, or wipe his own ass. He couldn't speak. He couldn't walk. He couldn't do shit, but take up space. His ass just laid in his old room in his mama's house until he died two years later. And his mother went bankrupt and shit. Where was that muthafuckin' million dollars then, you assholes?

White devil cracka muthafuckas always got shit up their white devil sleeves. Can't trust'em. Black reverends know. You can believe in the same God and still not trust whitey. Why? Because whitey always got something up his sleeves. Probably the reason why I didn't win the lottery last night. It's a conspiracy. WHERE MY MUTHAFUCKIN MONEY!

It's bullshit. BULLSHIT, I SAY!

Free that beyotch. LET THAT BEYOTCH GO!

That's all I gotta say about that shit.

The Turn Of Cena

2005-03-12T06:28:00.000-06:00

Man, wasn't it amazing. You know, seeing Cena finally do something worthwhile, FUing Teddy Long. One of the greatest character developments in recent pro wrestling history. Now all that matters is what they do next. Because over the next month or so the creative team will have to walk a pretty fine line. I mean, we all love Teddy Long. But we also want someone to root for, someone like Cena. And Cena and Long will have to play their cards just right to pull this shit off.

That fine line will include Long possibly having to forgive Cena pretty quickly, but also doing or saying something inadvertently to piss Cena off in the process. The audience will have to understand why Cena is reacting so negatively to this incident. And this will have to lead to JBL taking advantage of the two men's conflict, because he is the one clear bad guy. And the whole scenerio would play out like one great comic book epic.

I want to say Batman, but that's not quite right. You're Gordon and you have a vigilante in your city. You're a straight and narrow cop and you play by the books. But this new vigilante gets results. So, you don't know if you should love or hate this new force to be reckoned with. You don't know if you should hunt this guy down, or use him in the good fight against crime. And ultimately, you will find yourself doing both in accordance to the situation. That ultimately should be the new Long - Cena relationship. With JBL playing the Joker.

Which is why I think JBL should keep the belt at Wrestlemania. A good hero is only good when he's fighting the good fight. Take the Rock. There's a reason he was known as the People's Champ. Because he could rarely get his hands on the real thing. The Rock only became legendary when he found his archnemesis, Triple H.

If you look at most of those matches, the Rock lost. He was always on the losing end. But that was only because he was always getting screwed over by Triple H, and the McMahons, and DX, and Stone Cold through some sort of foul play and trickery. It was always somebody. Which is why it always felt so good when he would eventually win. The audience had been along for the ride, and had been through the bumps and bruises, and the ups and downs, that when the Rock would eventually win, it felt like everybody had won.

Of course, none of this matters unless Cena stops play acting in the ring. It always looks like Cena is going through the motions when he wrestles, and he's always playing to the crowd. And that finisher just doesn't look like much, which can all be attributed to Cena's wrestling skills. He just hasn't been able to sell his own moves.

Hulk Hogan had a leg drop for a finisher. The Rock dropped an elbow. At least on the surface, these aren't two of the greatest finishers in history. But trust me, when you saw these two men use'em, it was electrifying. And that's because they sold the hell out of the move. They forced their opponents to act accordingly. They knew just when to hit that finisher. They both had whole acts set up before the big move. The Rock's shit was the best, stripping the arm band off and tossing it in the crowd, the little dance afterwards with that kick. And BAM! Shit was over.

Why can't Cena pull this shit off. He has the FU and the 5 knuckle shuffle. And he can't sell either one. Because he's too busy playing to the crowd, pumping his shoes up and shit. It's sickening. What's also sickening is the racism shown towards his character.

Cena, like Stone Cold before him, took a role type and expanded it. Stone Cold was the redneck, backtalking, beer drinking, yokel taking it to the man. And Cena is the trailer park, hood raised, street kid, well, uh, taking it to the man. Would people tell Stone Cold to stop acting so white trash? Nope. Because that's part of his appeal. But I read shit about people not wanting Cena to act so street or ghetto.

It's bullshit. Do I believe Cena over does it with the pronunciations? Yep. But would I ask him to drop the personae that brought him to the dance? Hell no. It's a part of his appeal. He's the first wresling character to fully adopt the new street culture, the street culture that was first introduced by the Rock. And yeah, it's unfortunate that it had to be a white guy to truly do it. But it's America. Ain't it always a white man. Still, if he were to completely change now, it would be a slap in the face to all of the people who have stuck by his character over the passed few years.

And you know how much I hate traitors.

I Am..

2005-03-11T05:27:00.000-06:00

What if Malcolm X had one day said that he wanted to be greater than what his creator had made him? In fact, he had progressed beyond the limits of his skin color, that he had become altogether more than black. He had transgressed the barriers of race and had become a whole new being, greater than the foundation laid before him. And he had become this way by being more white, more asian, more arabic, more everything, and less black. I bet some of you would consider that a good thing. And you would be entirely wrong.

Why? Because I said so. Ha. Actually, my mother used to say that shit all the time. Go pick up that dog shit in the yard. And I'd say, Why? And my mother would look at me like she was about to kill me. And I'd say, Why do I have to pick it up? We don't own a dog. That's somebody else's dog doody. And she'd simply say, Because I said so. And that was the end of that shit. So, I'd go and pick me up some dog shit.

Anyway. Where was I going with this. Malcolm X. By becoming this amalgamation of all the goodness that existed in every race, and less of the evil that rested in any one of them, in his heart he thought he had become better than the human race. And he would only become this way by shedding the face of his heritage. He had to shun the nature of the black race in the goal of becoming greater than the human race. And the result would be that he would be the universe's first color-blind human being.

Now, I don't know about you, but I hate color-blind human beings. Why? Because they're blind to the facts. And their blindness is ultimately self-inflicted. I suppose that was why I was so pissed off a while back. I felt like I had been betrayed.

See. Two of my favorite artists had expressed a notion that to better themselves, they had to transgress beyond the boundaries of hip-hop and become something new. And by becoming something new, they would eventually create something new, and in their minds, ultimately something better. Why? Because hip-hop had become common place, it had become stale, and there was no way of saving it. And it was in their best effort, for self-preservation sake, to evolve beyond the gutters of hip-hop, and become something more than hip-hop, something greater than hip-hop.

And that's when I knew we had two traitors in the mist.

Let's say that you were the devil, and as the devil, you were the pure embodiment of evil. Everything you did, everything you were about was evil. If you were standing on a street corner, you'd be evil; clapping your hands in a church, you'd be evil; banging a big assed hooker, you'd still be evil. Helping an old lady cross the street, listening to Britney Spears, eating a hot dog, masturbating in the bathtub, whispering sweet schizophrenic nothings in the ear of another person, you'd still be the complete embodiment of evil. Because you are evil. You are no lesser than evil, and you are no greater. Everything you are represents and defines evil.

What did KRS-One say? I AM HIP-HOP. That's a pretty clear statement, a statement made by a man who knows who he is. At least at that moment. Who can really say about KRS-One. The man contradicts himself at every turn. Sort of like myself. So, I guess that makes him okay. Or insane. Maybe a genius. I think we'll both take genius.

Somebody great once said never trust a man that doesn't know himself. I don't know who that man is. Who knows, it could of been me. But I doubt it. But still, the sentiment is pretty right on. Never trust a man that doesn't know himself or know what he's about. If you're gonna be about it. Be Bout It! Bout It! I'm so ashamed of myself right now. Using crap cliche old slang shit. Makes me sick. But it still is right on.

Two men proclaimed to want to go beyond hip-hop. And by trying, they dismissed the validity of hip-hop. One man's betrayal has led to fortune and fame, all as he sang his way to the banks and big screens, pissing on the natives, and possibly dismissing the blood brother that rose with him. The other was met by critical acclaim, but audience displeasure, as he slowly saw fit to return to his roots, to his home land even, to regain what he has now proclaimed his basement elevation.

The future only holds if either man will ever regain their pass back within the confines of the promise land. Few traitors are ever welcomed back. Although, I did like seeing Tony Almeida back as the the big dog at CTU. But that's some crap for another day.

Rehash or Update

2005-03-09T17:30:00.000-06:00

Added these two back to the site.

Doom - Leftovers
Doom - Mm More Food

I think I'll make them permanent for the time being, at least as long as my bandwidth holds up.

As you can see up top, I've added a couple of new links. One is the replacement for the nfo site. I decided to host it on blogspot because angelfire was getting crazy with the banners and pop-unders. I haven't been updating it regularly as of late, and I didn't see me doing it in the future. Plus, very few people ever went there anyway. So, I've started to add some links, one or two a day. Plus, I'll update the nfo listing whenever.

The second is for a tracker. I think I might use a tracker in the future and I just wanted to test out this thing called blogtorrent. You can run it on a remote server, and it takes nothing to install. Unfortunately the interface is crap. Plus, the design needs work. If I ever publicly post something, I'll just post the torrent here.

Bittorrent 4.0

I don't use it, but it's the original.

The Return Of Dr. Octagon

2005-03-06T06:54:00.000-06:00

This is a sampler. These are not complete songs. The majority of them cut off at around a minute or so. I think this was the sampler that was being sold at Fanatik's website.

This is not the same release that came out last year. These are actual snippets of the recordings Keith created for the Dr. Octagon album that was supposed to have been released last year, or maybe year before last. Apparently the real Octagon album has been held up in legal crap. It was supposed to have come out on CMH Records, but some weird shit happened. Something like Keith didn't want the shit to come out after he had signed a deal wih the label, or that he wanted the shit redone or remixed by Kutmasta Kurt, or he wanted to change distribution companies. It was some weird shit.

I also think nobody really got paid for this shit either. Anyone, CMH said Fuck Them! And decided to put this shit out anyway. But I guess some legal shit happened that prevented them from actually releasing it. Or maybe, they actually heard the shit and decided that they weren't putting this bullshit out. As you can see, I really don't know shit in the true blogger sense. It's all speculation.

So, here's the shit. It ain't half bad. I had heard some completely bad shit about this. But it ain't half bad. But I guess you can decide.

Kool Keith - The Return Of Dr. Octagon (Sampler)

Boner

2005-03-04T00:30:00.000-06:00

Stupid Comic Frames
Stupid Comic Covers

Playin Yo Self

2005-03-03T23:07:00.000-06:00

Jeru Shit Is Dead.

The One Where Jack Rapes Everybody

2005-03-03T22:48:00.000-06:00

My shit is like Three's Company. Shit happens. And then shit ends. And when the next episode comes on, shit didn't happen. Or maybe it did.

Like, you remember that time when Jack killed Larry for fuckin' with one of his beyotches. He caught Larry with a big tittied blond beyotch that he used to love. I think it was Loni Anderson in a guest role.

And Jack went off. But not because he was mad that Larry was fucking the big tittied blond beyotch. He was mad because the big tittied blond chick was fuckin Larry. See, Jack had played the homo role for so long that he came to realize that he was really gay. And he was in love with Larry. So, when he went upstairs and caught Larry humping Loni, he just went off and killed both their asses.

Then he went back downstairs and got drunk. Chrissy came in. And Jack, all fucked up on Jack Daniels and heroin, raped Chrissy and stabbed her ass multiple times with a dull butterknife. Then Janet came home and found Chrissy all bloddy and naked. And Jack broke out behind her and raped and killed her ass, too.

Then he went downstairs looking for Mr. Roper. Roper opened the door, and Jack took a brick he had just found and busted Ropers head open right where he stood. Then Mrs. Roper came out. Jack punched the ole' beyotch in her face, turned her around and had his way with her, too. Several hours passed and Jack got off of Mrs. Roper. He left her on the floor crying, bleeding from below. Mrs. Roper, ashamed with being raped, went into the bathroom, broke the bathroom mirror, used one of the broken glass shards, and stabbed herself in the stomach.

Jack finally made his self to the ocean. He finally calmed down and rested on the shores. He finally went to sleep. Unfortunately, a strong current came through and swept him away into the sea. Several days later, a group of tourist were frollicking on the beaches where they found his bloated decomposed corpse which had only recently washed ashore.

Of course. the next episode. Everybody was back alive. And nobody mentioned what had happened the episode before. Jack went about trying to get rent money as if nothing had happened.

That's sort of like how this shit is. So, don't get all fucked up if one piece of shit don't follow another. That's just the way this shit is.

Psychotic Torso

2005-03-03T21:33:00.000-06:00

I'm dead.

Act like I'm dead. And you're just conversing with a dead man.

Two days earlier, four men stormed into my apartment. I jumped out of bed and headed up front. That's when I was hit with a bullet to my chest. I fell. One man stood over me. He aimed the barrel of his gun toward my head. And he pulled the trigger. There, I laid dead for three days, my head splattered about the rug. The janitor came to my apartment to fix my leaky sink. He opened the door and discovered my dead body. A week later, my mother buried me. And three days, I rose from the grave, resurrected. Now, I return home to write the last of my entries to this blog.

The Massacre

Fashion Deal

2005-02-26T18:57:00.000-06:00

I don't wanna come off like one of those gay dudes Chris Rock was talking about, one of those dudes that watch the Oscars for the fashion, because I watch the Oscars for the fashion, or the lack of it. I love checking out chicks trying to gain respect by coming out in plunging necklines and open backs to the buttocks. I love cleavage. I like see-thru fabrics. I love long slits up to the hip bone. I like tall skinny heels. And I love jiggling. Here's hoping for an earthquake.

To sound even more gay, I hate to see wrestlers wearing shorts when they should be wearing tights. Did you see that foul stinch they call Chris Masters, the Masterpiece, in his white booties, showing off his grotesque physique. That was one of the crappiest unveilings in wrestling history. And what made it even worse is that he came out in shorts, and he doesn't look right in shorts. What we know about wrestling is that it's all about the look.

Look at Kane. He has a great opening theme, his look is just right in the black and red tights. He comes out, does his routine, which usually sucks, then he chokeslams a brother, does that shit in the middle of the ring, and fire comes out of the ring post. That's why Kane still has a job. He looks good in the ring. Compare that to Snitsky in his goofy black shorts and tall black boots. Or Tyson Tomko. Or even Luther Reigns. Some guys look decent in shorts, and some need to cover their goofy white legs up.

By the way, I got my images back. And I am happy. Even though in just one day, you bastards have sucked already at least 300 mbs of bandwidth out of my shit looking at half-naked ass and titties. And that has got to stop. I may have to move that shit. Perverts!

Finally, the Massacre has leaked. And it's pretty bad. Too fuckin' long. And half of the production is this fake, cold, keyboard shit. One of the biggest surprises is that two of the tracks on this shit just completely suck, and they're by Dre, who I usually like. Of course, Eminem chimes in with some more horrendous production. The soul tracks work better than the keyboard shit. And 50 ain't really talking about anything new throughout the whole fuckin' album.

I was actually looking forward to this shit. I thought it wouldn't be halfway bad. My expectations weren't really all that high. And this shit didn't even reach that level. I guess this proves that top acts on big labels can't really come through for their public anymore. Rather its rock dudes like U2 and REM, or rap guys like Nas and 50, the art of putting out a decent album that surpasses the hype is long gone. No dude on a major label will ever release a classic ever again. I guess it's a lost art.

Chewbacca

2005-02-24T16:47:00.000-06:00

Bastards. Sons-of-beyotches say I owe'em. They say I owe'em three fuckin' cents. That's right, three fuckin cents. They holdin' my shit hostage until I pay'em. All because you assholes needed to look at titties and ass. Assholes. I'm done with you. No more love for you. No more love for anybody. Only hate. I only got hate and venom left for you assholes. That's why I'll never give you shit like this ever again. Fuck you. We are now enemies.

Had to spend the whole fuckin' week setting up a new site to traffic my shit through. Fuckin' dns errors and bullshit. I wasn't able to converse with my peeps like I wanted. Now, I never wanna talk to you assholes ever again. I hate you like Satan hates Jesus. Except I'm Jesus, turning over shit, having wet dreams about reformed hoes. Or former children with destiny.

I had this dream last night. Me and Beyonce were girlfriend and boyfriend. And she wanted a baby really bad. She used to have her best friend over all the time, Kelly. Me, Beyonce and Kelly would chill out in the bedroom and hang and talk and do shit. Beyonce and Kelly were really close. You know what kind of close I'm talking about. And Beyonce, one night, after having sex with me, took the used condom I had thrown in the trash, and used one of those turkey juicer thingies, and sucked the love juice out of the condom, and squirted it in her womanly parts. And she went and got herself pregnant with my kid.

She told me she was pregnant. And I wondered how she got pregnant, especially since I used a condom. And I figured it out, that she had sucked my stuff out the condom and put it in her. I was devastated. How could Beyonce do a brother like that. But I stayed with her. And I took her down to the City Hall and married her ass. Then, right before the baby was due, she leaves and takes her ass back to Texas. Now, her parents can't stand me, because I got their little girl pregnant. And they're hating on me, stopping me from visiting her. So, I stay my ass up north, at least until the baby's due. Then I go down to Texas, but I can't stay with her. So, I stay with Kelly. And Kelly comforts me. And one day, we up and have some freaky sex.

Now the babies due. And I go to the hospital. Everybody's there. Beyonce has my child, a baby girl. I hold her for awhile. Then, I go and be with Beyonce. I stay for another month. Then, I decide to head back up north, and hopefully never see the kid again. I send money and shit, but I never see the kid again. Now I do this shit because I know how fucked up I am, and I should never hold the life of another human being in my hands. I decide that Beyonce and my kid would be better off if I didn't fight for them. Let Beyonce find another man, a good man, a man who can take care of her and her baby. Because I know I can never be that person.

Superman is A Dick

2005-02-19T06:17:00.000-06:00

Yeah, I'm a thief. But this time I'll give credit: relski

Superman is a Dick

Still Down

2005-02-17T15:53:00.000-06:00

Crap.

I'm tired like that.

I ain't got shit to say.

So, I won't waste any of your time.

Just Some Links I Stole:

Openware
Snarf-It
Sometimes this crap is up. Sometimes it ain't.
Firefox Search Plug-Ins
6 months of free hosting
Rock Group Cover Fonts

Assholes

2005-02-15T21:46:00.000-06:00

As you can see. My fuckin images are gone. Apparently, all the many assholes who came to look at them half-naked chicks killed the site where I host my images. I don't know when that shit'll be back on-line. Until then, I'm gonna have to find a back up storage site. And I got another mirror site up with word press here. So, until I fix this shit, my site will stay blind.

Assholes!

Plastic World

2005-02-15T21:42:00.000-06:00

Today's topic. We're in some early year lull when it comes to music. Shit is just on the horizon, but it just hasn't gotten here, yet. There's the new Queens of the Stone Age, and Beck, and 50 Cent, all, I believe, will be dropping new shit in March, or maybe late February. But until then, we're stuck with the quiet before the storm. Or the quiet storm. That doesn't really work. The quiet before the storm... fuck it.

I haven't really heard anything that has made me jump out of my seat lately. Some jerked off to that Prefuse shit. But like I say, white hip-hop wouldn't exist if it wasn't for the Internet. I could be wrong. But I doubt it. Not to say that that Prefuse shit doesn't have promise, but that shit really isn't tops on my list. Neither is that Sage Francis I've seen floating around.

There has been one release that I've enjoyed. But there's very little white about it. Which means it's gotten very little publicity. And that's Rapper Big Pooh's Sleepers. If you liked Little Brother's The Listening, which I didn't, then you'll love this shit.

I hate shit that comes out with a really big build up, because that shit usually never lives up to the hype. And Little Brother was just that. There were a few decent cuts on that shit, but the majority of that shit was average. I definitely saw potential in 9th Wonder, but The Listening wasn't his best work. And that's a good thing.

People wanted to compare that shit to when Tribe, or De La Soul came out. But it may have more in comparison to Common's Can I Borrow A Dollar. They both were releases that showed promise, lyrically and production wise. And hopefully like Common and No I.D., Little Brother's second effort can eventually reach the promise, the hype that was laid upon their first release.

Unfortunately, many people invest a lot of emotional crap in certain artist. The hype behind Little Brother came about because so many people were looking for something resembling the look and feel and sound of much of that shit that came out in the early to mid-90s. Questlove, from the Roots, was one of them. Many were saying for many years previous that hip-hop was dead. And these same people were looking for something, anything, to grab ahold to, anything that could tell them that what they were feeling was wrong.

It's similar to neo-soul. There's no such thing as neo-soul. And the neo-soul movement never really existed. But many people wanted the return of those old school classics. And none of them could bring themselves to the conclusion that all that old shit is dead.

The same with Nas. Every time that brother puts an album out, people fight over the significance of that shit. And many of us in our right mind know that everything that brother has put out since Illmatic has sucked. And some of us are so sane to note that Illmatic wasn't really all that. But brothers need a savior. And each time he drops something, they claim classic, and backtrack from that shit when they come to their senses a year or so later.

Brothers wanted Stillmatic to be hot. Some called it five-star. And then when God's Son came out, brothers were claiming it was the return of Nas. And last year, brothers finally came up with the shit that Street's Disciple is the album where Nas excels. The messiah can only come back so many time before it's considered bullshit. And I think we should all finally come to the conclusion that it's all bullshit.

I have to tell myself that shit every day. Because we will never see the golden age of hip-hop ever again. We will never see the mid-90s ever again. The block party is dead. Spinning on linoleum is dead. All that shit is dead. Live with it, beyotches. Get over it. Maybe then, and only then, will acts like Little Brother be able to excel without being held back by nostagia. Because nobody can live up to the fake greatness of the past.

A Modest (Wrestling) Proposal

2005-02-12T14:11:00.000-06:00

Special Weekend Edition.

Tried out my Smack-A-Beyotch program, and let me tell you that that shit didn't work one bit. In fact, I think I might be able to have babies now, because one woman kicked me so hard in my nuts, I think I might have ovaries now. I guess that proves that a man should never hit a woman, unless she has a gun or a knife, or a bomb, or if she's loud talking him. I still stand by Snoop: if a woman's loud talking you, the Bible says you should smack the shit out of her. Those are the exact words Moses, or was it Jesus, spoke to the people in Nazer.., er, Isrea.., uh, someplace biblical. It's true. Of course, the Bible also says if there aren't any women around that aren't related to you, you should bone your daughters, or your sisters, or your cousins. So, take it as you will.

Anyway, a couple of months ago I championed the rise of Booker T in the ranks of the WWE. By switching him to Smackdown, he could finally return to the main event standings. Unfortunately, Booker T hasn't lived up to my expectations. His matches have been dreadful as of late. And I honestly believe he needs to either step up his game, or be forced back down into the mid-card ranks. Of course, there's a third option. He could retire. But I doubt if that's likely. I just don't think Booker saved up enough ole' folk dough in order for him to retire. Which means that he's destined to continue to stink up our tv screens with his wrestling crap.

And therefore I propose that we send him back to Raw so that he can battle with the likes of Gene Snitsky and Simon Dean. In exchange, Smackdown would get the rejuvenated Edge. Edge has proven himself a main eventer. I enjoyed his matches with Shawn Micheals and Triple H. And Smackdown needs some new upper main event blood. The Smackdown roster is still pretty thin, which is the only reason I can assume that Kenzo Suzuki has been kept around. Anybody that makes Eddie look bad in the ring needs to be released. But there's nobody to replace him.

Bringing Edge over makes sense even for Raw. Edge has gone through Chris Benoit, Shawn Micheals, Triple H. The future just doesn't look all that bright for the man. I mean, has he faced Kane, or the Hurricane, or Tyson Tomko? You get where I'm going with this. While on Smackdown, he could start new feuds with Kurt Angle, Eddie Guerrero, John Cena, and RVD, when he returns. It'll be almost a whole year before he would be forced to face the likes of JBL, the Big Show, and the Undertaker. He could even do a program with Rey Mysterio. Shit, it makes sense to me.

As you can tell, I'm a Smackdown lover. Not because it's a better show. More like the opposite. I like it because it has always felt like the bastard child of the WWE. Wasn't the Rock supposed to be exclusive to Smackdown. But he left, and to make his brief appearances more like suprises, I'm sure it made sense to feature him on Raw, which isn't taped like Smackdown. I don't know if it's me, but didn't Raw look better in Japan than Smackdown. Raw just looks better, and it sounds better, too. And all the stars are on Raw. Raw is overloaded with stars.

Smackdown has always been the place where they try out new faces. Batista, Orton, Cena, all made their debut on Smackdown. Smackdown has always had to do with less. And for the most part, it has succeeded. Up until last year, Smackdown was the show you went to for workrate. Angle, Edge, Mysterio, Benoit, Guerrero were all on Smackdown. They controlled the heavyweight division and the tag division, and even the cruiserweight division. It was a place where wasted stars on Raw found redemption. Anybody remember Mattitude? It was where the next big thing became a wrestling phenomenom. Brock Lesnar went from a two dimensional, non-speaking, powerhouse, to a fully well-rounded wrestler. And then it all went to dirt.

Edge went out with neck problems. Hardy and Benoit were switched back to Raw. Lesnar bailed out on the company for a failed football career. And Angle faced being paralyzed from chronic neck problems from when he broke his neck when he was a amateur wrestler. Eddie was given the belt, and was eventually screwed, because he was forced to program with an untested Bradshaw in the heavyweight ranks. His reign became a disappointment, and the belt was eventually given to Bradshaw, rechristened, JBL. JBL redefined himself as the chicken-shit champion. And over a half year later, we find him still champion, his success due to his above average mic skills, because he's truly below average in the ring, him and his beer gut.

That's why all of us Smackdown lovers hope that "trades" are in the future because we can't live with this shit anymore. We need some credible wrestlers in the ring. We need the return of the workrate we became accustomed to. We need our wrestlers back. Raw doesn't need Hardy. They hate Hardy. Why else would they have him wrestling Kane in that Lita-Hardy-Kane crap from last year. Give us back our Mattitude. We also would like Chris Jericho, and possibly, Chris Benoit. Maybe even Shelton Benjamin, although I think I might be asking for too much there.

I know none of the wrestlers want to work on Smackdown. It's a show that's going to the dirt. But I remember when it was the greatest wrestling show on television. Of course. that ain't saying much, because there were only two, maybe three if you count those TNA PPVs, that were on television at the time. But you know what I mean. And if you don't, act like you do. That'll make it easier on both you and me.

Like A Pimp

2005-02-10T15:59:00.000-06:00

Did I ever tell you dudes about Elizabeth, the first chick I ever loved. Although, I doubt if you could call it love. She was thirteen, and I was 43. Just kidding. Ha-Ha. If this is the FBI reading this shit, that was a joke. I was joking. I was really 30. HO. I'm joking again. Please don't come to my house at 5 in the morning and take me out in handcuffs. I was joking. It was a kid. I was kidding. Har-Har. The truth is that we were both young, she 13, and I, 14. She was the first girl I ever loved, and the first one to ever break my heart, in that really bad female way.

And then, right here, in this second paragraph, I was going to tell you all the cool things we did together, and how it hurt so bad when we broke up, especially how we broke up. And I planned on linking this to my continued dysfuntional relationship with women. But the moment has passed. Now, I don't really feel like pouring my heart out. Although, I will tell you that our breakup included her ripping the jacket off my back and stomping on it at a bus stop. And my glasses were inside my coat pocket at the time. So, on that day, she not only broke my heart, she also broke my glasses, my 200 dollar glasses. And when I got home, my mother ended up breaking my ass.

Funny shit. I can't remember one positive overall experience I've ever had with a woman, not even my mother. I think I actually dislike every chick I've ever dated. I'm not cool with one of them. And that's a really fucked up track record. I need to change that shit. I think it has to do with the type of women I attract. It's possible that I'm so fucked up I attract chicks that will eventually shit on me, like one of those women that always finds dudes that'll cheat on them, or beat them up. I think that's me. In fact, I know that's me. I'm a weak dude. That's why I need overbearing strong women. I need chicks that'll make sure I get fed and clothed, and will loud talk me down into dirt, afterwards. I think I've mentioned that before.

I don't think you can get passed that, mentioning shit over and over again. There's only so much a person can write about before things start becoming repetitive. You know, like deja vu. They say most writers only have a small finite set of ideas, and that they go through them over and over again in every piece of work they do. I guess that's why Stephen King writes horror, and that James L. Patterson dude writes crap. King might be working through some shit that happened long ago through horrific images and events. And Patterson is just working through crap. But it's the same thing. I guess that's what I'm doing with this shit here, each entry is like some piece of therapy on my road to recovery. Ha. Bullshit. But let's stick with that for the time being.

Getting back to the session: girls. I need to change my approach to girls. I was watching some shit with Nick Cannon and Christina Milian. It was called something like Love Ain't a Thang, or What's Love with the Thang and the ding-a-lang, some shit like that. I can't recall. But Nick Cannon, who's playing a nerd, pays Christina Milian to be his girl. By hanging with her, he becomes popular, and he grows a big head (on his neck) (on his shoulders). She tells him that to keep a girl, you gotta treat her like shit. That's the only way beyotches will respect a man. And he listens to her, and eventually starts treating her like shit. And guess what happens. 30 year old chicks playing teenagers with big titties start pushing up on him, and Christina Milian starts to fall in love with him. The more Cannon treats Milian like shit, the more respect he gets from his crew, the more ass he gets, and the more Christina Milian starts falling for his nerd ass. And I'm thinking, that shit is like real life. Ding!

The reason why Tupac and Biggie and 50 get beyotches on top of beyotches is straight up because they treat beyotches like shit. They call women beyotches. Snoop even raps about fuckin up beyotches in his song. Like they say, beyotches ain't shit but hos and tricks. And the more you treat a beyotch like a ho and trick, the more hos and tricks a pimp gon' get. That shit is magic. Like Biggie says, Mo Money, Mo' problems. Mo' beyotches, mo tricks. The more you treat a woman like a beyotch, the more ho'in and trickin' a pimp gon' get. That shit is science. And I've been doing this shit wrong all along.

That's why starting tomorrow, I'm smacking the shit out of every woman I come across. Whether on a bus, or on a plane, walking down the street, or where the hos go to eat, I'm smackin' a beyotch. Pretty soon I'll have smacked all the beyotches in the metro area and I won't have enough arms and hands to hold the hoes back. Sure, this might lead to me losing my job, maybe getting peppered-sprayed, possibly kicked in the balls, but that's the price a pimp gotta pay to get maximum ass. And I'm all about maximum ass.

Minister of Dong

2005-02-09T01:38:00.000-06:00

I've been undercover for about a week. I haven't been following the news, not even that shit on MTV. I haven't read a newspaper, a magazine, nothing. In fact, the only information I got was from off the Internet. And you know that's bad. Because the Internet can't be trusted. That shit lies more than me.

I removed several of my files, at least the big ones. I'm making room for some new shit, including, possibly, some Doom shit live. But I won't say it'll end up here, because if it doesn't, I'll end up looking like a big fat liar. I know I've already disclosed that I lie all the time, but what good is lying when everybody thinks you're telling the truth when you say you're a liar.

When you lie, you want people to believe you're telling the truth. So, a good liar tries to mix some truth in his lies, or he tries to switch that shit up. He tells the truth on the serious shit so that he can get away with lying on the rest. Like when I say that I lie all the time. That's the truth. And I'm a asshole. That's also the truth. But in the middle of that shit it's good to slip in that I also have a really big penis, and I fucked Christina Milian doggystyle last year. It's true. Why the fuck would I lie about that shit? I already disclosed that I'm a pussy. And that I can't get laid if my life depended on it. So, why would I lie about beating the shit out of 50 Cent for not paying me my money on a bag a weed I sold him a couple of years ago. That shit don't make sense. And that's when I got ya. Because, see, I laid the groundwork. I tell you all this real shit, then I lay some bullshit out there and you accept it as truth because I haven't shown you reason not to.

Now, I'm guessing you're wondering why he'd admit he was a bullshit liar if he wanted me to believe he was telling the truth. Because, see, it gets harder to lie to you when I keep on telling lies. Eventually you'll start wondering, is this mothafucka fo real? So, I just decided to beat you to the punch. Before you get to that point, I spring this shit on you. And then, I'm free, free to do, or say, whatever the fuck I want. Ronny Octavius stops being real and becomes a figment of your imagination. Eventually, my ass ain't no different from Scooby Doo or Casper. Octavius becomes another fuckin cartoon character, once based on a real person, now only a caricature.

Now tell me, is that any different from the stars you watch on television, or the actors on those movie screens, or even your favorite singer, or dare I say, rapper. At some point 50 Cent, Prodigy, Snoop Dogg, Game, were all real people. Now, they're characters, actors playing the part of a distorted mirror image of themselves. That's why rappers make good actors. Because they're good at lying to the public about who they are. And that's what I aim to achieve. That's my mission statement. I claim this territory of the blogosphere. There have been others who have come before me, and many more who will come after me, but I will be the first to stake the claim of master of all bullshit.

All others take note.

Death Becomes You

2005-02-02T16:01:00.000-06:00

Is He Dead, Yet? You know, the Pope. Did he drop? Just wondering. I got money on that shit. I don't think the old dude's gonna make it this time. I predict he won't walk out the hospital ever. I give him three or four days. Look at Johnny. Or Marlon Brando. One minute everybody's saying they were cool. Then they get hit with the sniffles, and a week later, they're gone. Poof. Just like that, they're dead. And the Pope should have dropped a decade ago. Dude all old speaking gibberish in a microphone. Nobody understands his ass, but they act like they do cause he's the Pope. Man, I expect a windfall by the end of the week.

He'll probably go quietly in the afternoon. Old people either go at night, or in the morning, or in the afternoon, or in the evening, or whenever. Every time is death time for the elderly. I figure everybody has it pretty good until they hit 78. 78 is an arbitrary number, but it seems whenever I watch the news, the person that's being reported dead is or was usually between the age of 78 and 84, usually in their early 80s. So, I figure that's probably the norm for everybody when it comes to dropping dead, unless you live in the hood. Then I think it's between 17 and 24.

I think there's a lot of death related milestones in a person's lifetime. The first is when you're a baby. Everybody thinks you're gonna drop if you're a baby. And the chances are that we all could have died like that if we weren't taken care of in the right way in the grand US of A. Infant fatality rates are pretty high across the world. Most of the world's babies don't make it, because babies just can't cut it, yet. We're all pussies until we get coughed on and shot up in the right way over a period of time. Then we become super babies, running around, fuckin' up shit, pretty damn indestructable until we get old. And when I say old, I mean 30, or some shit like that.

If you live in those improvished areas, like I have most of my fuckin life, it don't take 30 before you start feeling mortal, and the cold hand of death starts to creep up on you. Unfortunately, my teenage years were a war zone. And I wasn't even a gangbanger. Yet, I saw two close friends die to street violence. One was killed right outside his mother's house while talking to my cousin. I dodged several bullets as well, including two that barely missed me as I walked from the kitchen to my room. Bullets simply melt a hole through glass, cracking the glass window slightly at impact. My mother still hangs a painting on her wall where one of the bullets went through. I guess I should have felt blessed when I made it into my twenties. But I still spend too much time wondering about my mortality. I still feel like I'm living on borrowed time.

Most other people don't think about death until they get close to 40, and especially when they hit that mid-life crisis shit. And I can see why because around that age you get the menopause and the heart attack and all that other weird shit. And all that dumb fuckin' living catches up to the body and mind around that time, all the drinking and smoking, and fornicating, and cheating and lying, and all that other bullshit you didn't give a fuck about back in the day. All that shit starts playing on your whole reality around then. And the body just starts fuckin' up and not acting right. Your eyes go and your prostate swells up and shit. And your woman's cootchie starts drying out and shit. Everything just gets all fucked up. But if you make it past that shit, you usually get to reach the end.

And, of course, the end is 80. You hit 80 and you're cool, and then you get hit with shit that you used to be able get over with without a problem. You get a cold, or you stub a toe, or you get hit with a bad case of gas. Before, you farted that shit out and went on with your life. You took an aspirin, or you drank some tea, or something like that. But this time, your whole fuckin' foot goes numb, or your lungs fill with fluid, or your blood gets infected, some weird shit like that. And all of a sudden, three days later, you're dead. You're 80 and you're dead.

Fun Fact: 50 was shot 9 times. Grimm was shot 10. Guess who's harder?

(What's that Cool J line? I'm so bad that I suck my own dick, or some over-homo shit like that. I guess no one outside of Cool J wants the distinction of being that bad, that hard, that he forces his own mouth to suck his own dick. I wish Moe Dee, or Canibus, or whoever had fucked up Cool J on the mic just for bullshit like that.)

Live At The BBQ - The Missing Link
Biography

Bastards Rule! Fair and Balanced?

2005-02-01T04:41:00.000-06:00

I guess I'm still a lazy ass bastard because I still didn't implement those last few site revisions. I need to stop saying I'm gonna do something and not do something. I bet that shit's annoying. Anyway, Batista wins the Royal Rumble like everybody and their mama should have known. Him and Cena at the end was logical. They were the only two credible contenders. Vince McMahon fucks his knee up while trying to enter the ring to make a desicion that can only be made in pro wrestling on a regular basis, whose foot touched the ground first. Now we got Raw teasing a Smackdown switch for Batista, even though we know it won't happen. It's in the stars. Batista is facing Triple H. Some other matches to look forward to are Shawn Micheals versus Kurt Angle, Guerrero versus Booker T, Heidenreich and Snisky vs Kane and the Undertaker, and possibly Cena versus JBL for the WWE Title. At least that's what I'm predicting at the present moment. Of course this can all change in the next few weeks.

Now on to other matters. I thought about putting more newsworthy shit on my site. People said that last year, or maybe this year, was the year of the blog, that somehow in some bizzaro, hell-infused parallel universe, blogs had become a valid destination for trustworthy news. And if I decided to actually start putting real important news shit on my site, I'd have to start being trustworthy and honest. And by starting to be trustworthy and honest, my site would gain in the newfound legitimacy that other weblogs have gained. Super-villain Style would thus become legitimate, something valid and good. And I'd gain a newfound level of respect in the blogosphere, in the journalism world, and ultimately, throughout the whole planet.

And then I said, FUCK THAT SHIT!

Being honest is too fuckin' hard. And I'd have to stop lying. And stealing other people's content. And I'd have to start using proper grammar, and spelling right, and using that right sentence structure and punctuation crap. And I'd eventually have to stop using foul language. And that shit made it definite. Fuck legitimate. I haven't been legitimate since I was born. I strive for illegitimacy. Illegitimacy rules. All you other whores can suck that broadcast dick. This man is his own man. I strive for pure bullshit. I stand strong to my nature. I'm a mothafuckin' bastard. Born a bastard. Die a bastard. And I live to lie, cheat and steal like a bastard.

For Example:

ALICIA KEYS TO MARRY 50 CENT

When will this marriage take place? Who cares. I don't know. But I predict some time down the line that Alicia Keys will marry 50 Cent. Why? Just like Whitney and Bobby, Alicia will find the lesbian rumors plaguing her career for years to come. To shut up the rumor mill, Keys will go all out and marry the thug/rapper/actor, 50 Cent. The world will be stunned and wonder if the girl is crazy.

Afterwards, Keys will develop a drug problem, if she hasn't already. Did you see her in that Karma video. She looks kind of drugged out already in that shit. Anyway, she and 50 will have a fat daughter together and name her Celicia, for no apparent reason other than I couldn't think of a really dumb name at the time of typing this up. In a twist, 50's career will skyrocket and Alicia will become the has been crackhead, losing a lot of weight and doing shows as Skeletor.

And she will also begin beating 50 on a regular basis, eventually being locked up several times for spousal abuse. This will cause 50 to try to commit suicide seeing that he will have lost all credibility in the record business and on the streets due to him getting his ass kicked on the regular by his skinny former pop star wife.

After that, Alicia will serve a year in prison for running over a group of kids at a mall she had just performed in. She will get in her car after the concert, do some heroin and plow through those little bastards like, like, something a person plows right on through. They will visit Africa after she gets out prison and proclaim themselves new Africans and eat monkey meat. And then they will have another kid and name him Tyrone, because I still couldn't think of a really funny name there either. They stay together until they're in their 50s, and then they divorce.

Now if anyone wants to link to that news item, they can. I have no problem with anybody linking to it or stealing it outright and claiming they wrote it. In fact, I hope some of you do just that. So, when Alicia and 50 find out about this shit, they'll sue you instead of me. Because I'll just be clever and delete this post and act like I don't know what anybody's talking about. I'll just act dumb. (Like that would be really hard for you. Har-Har.)

Royal Mumba or If you lie, you steal.

2005-01-28T05:31:00.000-06:00

Decided to shit out this post to end the week. That way I can say I finished out the week on track. As you can tell I treat this blog posting like drug therapy. And the beginning of the week I found myself backsliding. I guess I'll always be a no-postaholic and I can't do shit about it. It's a disease that I'll have to live with until the day I die. Everyday is another step on my 12 steps to recovery. And I'll be stepping all the way to the grave. Hee-hee, or teh-heh.

Over the weekend I should be finished with my new site design. It's the same design you see, but with the final touches and crap that my lazy ass never got around to adding back when this design went live. You should see some new links on the side, and my side blogs' side links should be updated as well. It's pretty much shit I stole from off of other people's shit. So, if any of those people step to me all mad, don't be. You should be happy and honored I stole shit from you. That should tell you that what you got was worth something, something worth stealing. Be proud of yourself. Give yourself a pat on the back. Tell yourself how great you are. And let me keep stealing shit off you.

Royal Rumble

To finish this shit off, the Royal Rumble is this Sunday. I had to talk about the PPV before it hit. I have no predictions. Unlike other years, this Rumble is pretty hard to predict. I don't think anyone knows who will actually win the battle royal. There were really no breakout stars this year, unless you count Randy Orton, whose push was killed when he lost the World Title a month after he won it. But he isn't in the Rumble. Instead, he's fighting Triple H for the title, again. Who knows. He could win. And then you can say that everything is up for grabs.

Here's a list of this year's participants: Batista, Booker T, Charlie Haas, Chris Benoit, Chris Jericho, Christian, Dan Puder, Eddie Guerrero, Edge, Gene Snitsky, Hardcore Holly, Jonathan Coachman, John Cena, Kane, Kenzo Suzuki, Luther Reigns, Mark Jindrak, Muhammad Hassan, Orlando Jordan, Paul London, Rene Dupree, Rey Mysterio, Ric Flair, Scotty 2 Hotty, Shawn Michaels, Shelton Benjamin, Simon Dean, The Hurricane, Viscera.

Unfortunately, there are only a limited number of wrestlers who could possibly win the Rumble. These wrestlers are set for a push. High money is on the monster Batista, who will be up to battle Triple H at Wrestlemania for the World Heavyweight Title. Low money is on John Cena who would be up to battle JBL for the WWE Heavyweight Title. And a long shot for contention is Edge. But that seems very doubtful. But if he did win, you could possible see the involvement of Shawn Micheals in some way. Shawn Micheals did headline the event last year. So, I guess you could add him as a long shot, possible ending with something similar to the three way match that headlined last year.

Some are hoping for a complete swerve, something reminiscent of last year when Benoit won the Rumble and switched from the Smackdown WWE Title to the Raw World Title. That could include somebody out of left field winning, like Rey Mysterio. You could also have Triple H drop the title before Wrestlemania and have him go against Batista in a non-title match, which means that it wouldn't matter if Batista won on Sunday. But that may not happen, unless the boys upstairs don't mind somebody like Orton in the main event spot at Wrestlemania, which is another long shot.

You could also have somebody like Booker T or Eddie Guerrero win, have JBL drop the title against the one who doesn't win, and you'd have Booker T versus Eddie Guerrero for the WWE Title. I wouldn't see that as anything worser than Cena versus JBL, which could completely suck because Cena is still all flash and completely green in the ring, and JBL is just big and slow. But it looks like that's where they're heading with the Smackdown main event spot. Although, I wouldn't mind seeing Cena turn heel and have the Rock come back for his annual visit and take him on. Cena would have to win by cheating, but I think that match would work ten times better. Plus, it would come off as a passing of the torch time of thing.

On the Raw side, the clear choice, the only choice to win seems to be Batista. In fact, like I said, he's the top choice between both brands. If Batista wins, he's most likely facing Triple H. Their storyline has been simmering under the surface for the past few months. The only likely payoff would be for Batista to face Triple H no matter if he has the belt or not. The only problem I have with Batista is that I just don't think he's ready for the belt, which is why I believe it's possible that Triple H could drop the title before Wrestlemania. He hasn't really developed when it comes to delivering promos, plus his style is still pretty two dimensional. There's very little flash in his style. He's slow and powerful. That's his shit. But I don't think I could get hyped up for future Batista title defenses. And I don't think many of the people at the WWE think he's ready either. Which means that we could have even more of Triple H as heavyweight champion. And we all know that that's a bad thing, don't we?

Enemy of The State

2005-01-27T02:35:00.000-06:00

Just like me.

Before I start my shitty ass review, here's a Weblog Award update: The 2005 Bloggie Awards

Oh course, I still got no love. Effed this weblog shit. Still, vote if you feel like it.

Second. What made my day was when I hit that Hip-hop Site news bookmark link and found out that Portishead is working on a new album. 2005 could actually be a pretty good year in music.

Now onto my review of Wolverine, issue number 24. This is some of the best Wolverine storytelling that has been done in ages. The character had become cliched and overdone, appearing in more Marvel books than you can think of. It was Wolverine overkill. And then this Enemy of the State shit pops up.

Pretty much, Wolverine is killed by the Hand and resurrected. He is forced through the resurrection to become a assassin for an offshoot of the organization headed by Baron Von Strucker, pretty much like Elektra was forced to do before him. In fact, Elektra is featured pretty prominantly in the story arc, but we'll get to that later. Wolverine's new goal after death is to be a super-powered hitman, going after other super-powered heroes so that they can be turned by the Hand through resurrection. Along the way, Wolverine dabbles in corporate espionage and begins stealing secrets from Tony Starks Enterprises and the Fantastic Four. For what reason, we have no clue. But the master plan is revealed in this issue.

As the last issue ended, we come to believe that Daredevil is the next super-powered target. And with this issue, the battle begins. And that's when this shit gets good. Because John Romita Jr is drawing this shit, and he's the second, or possibly, third best artist ever to draw Daredevil. The first being Frank Miller. I would also give props to David Mazzucchelli, who also did Batman: Year One.

I really loved that shit Simonson and Romita cooked up in the late 80s or early 90s, that Thyphoid Mary shit. And now, with this issue, Romita Jr, one of my all time favorites, returns to draw Daredevil in another classic. Some people hate his minimalist backgrounds and his cartoony looking characters, but that's what makes his shit special. Plus, he always draws the seams in the costumes. His boots always have the look and weight of boots, and don't look like just some socks. It's little shit like that that makes Romita Jr. one of the best in the industry. So, stop hating on the master. And this issue here is classic Romita Jr, shit, all cinematic to boot.

The issue centers around two combats, one between Wolverine and Daredevil, and the other between Elektra and some new dude named Gorgon, or some shit like that. Elektra has been on Wolverine's trail since day one, working for Nick Fury and SHIELD in the hopes of capturing Wolverine before he does any real damage. And Gorgon is the dude who intially kills Wolverine. Apparently his mutant power is some lame if he looks at you he can kill you shit. Anyway, we initially come to believe that the actually target is Daredevil, but as the story plays along we finally understand that what the Hand really wanted was their old assasin, Elektra. And when Gorgon takes off his sunglasses, that boy can't fail. So, you should get the drift how this shit ends.

Anyway, Wolverine accidentally impales himself. And before being transported back to the Hand for repairs, he regains control of himself and reveals to Daredevil that he really wasn't the actual target. He also tells Daredevil of a plan to kill the Potus, who we discover is shorthand for the President of the United States (I can see that some of you are already wishing Wolverine was real). Anyway, once we learn the big target is the president, and the Hand not only has Wolverine, but Elektra, well, you can only guess how this shit ends. But I wouldn't want to be the president in the Marvel Universe right now because it kind of seems that you're sort of fucked. Some over the top letdown shit can only come next.

Stories like this always have that letdown final chapter, because no resolution can ever live up to the tension created in the earlier issues. But I'm hoping this isn't the case for Enemy of the State. I don't know how Millar, the dude writing this classic shit, and Romita are gonna end this shit, but I'm hoping beyond all hopes that it'll live up to the hype. I mean they actually got a brother looking forward to the next issue. Here's hoping that Millar and Romita stick around on Wolverine for some time to come. Because this is some of the best action packed comic book storytelling that I've read in ages. This shit is that good. And Wolverine hasn't looked better in ages.

Man Without Fear.com

I Am Lost

2005-01-26T23:56:00.000-06:00

I can't believe it. I can't believe it. I - I am lost. Johnny Carson is dead. And I am lost, lost in this deep earthly abyss. It's one of the reasons I haven't posted to this site. I have remained silent for two or three days to show my respects and honor the great late night king of television comedy. Or, would you believe my dog ate my posts, ate that shit right up. Or, this is a good one, I couldn't reach a computer at all the last three days.

I was stranded on an island, and there were these big bootied freaks there, and they said, You leave that Internet alone. You mess with Mr. Internet and you get no booty. And I was all like I don't need no booty, and they were all like we know you want some booty, and I was like I don't need none of that, I have my imagination, and they were all like what yo' imagination gon' do when yo' penis get hard, and I was all like that's the better to crack coconuts with, and they were all like you gon' fuck the coconut hole and all, and I was all like damn beyotches, that sounds like a good idea, and they were all like, Yadda - Yadda - Yadda, I'm fuckin tired. But you know where I was headed with this shit. Needless to say, I hit that island booty fo' like three days and shit. Cause I'm the mack like that. That's how I do this shit.

So, now I'm back to reality and civilization and stuff like that. But I'm depressed because I wasn't able to keep my weekday blog shit going, and, yeah, that Johnny Carson shit, and I don't know what to do with myself. That's why I am lost. I am lost in my own depression and stuff like that. Whatever. So, I decided to do this and post here and start things again. I'd get one in before the new day. Then I'd come back with another one the next day, and I'd be back on a roll. That's why this entry is another entry about nothing. So, my next two entries will be about something. First, I'll throw up a shitty ass comic book review. I won't put any thought into it. But, at least, you'll be getting another great entry from me. Then I'd hit you with another entry about bullshit, I really haven't thought that shit up yet. But when I do this shit, you'll love it. Trust me.

I Sum Rapin Puddin Pops

2005-01-21T16:29:00.000-06:00

Police Probe Allegation Against Bill Cosby

Attorney Walter Phillips said he spoke Thursday with authorities in Pennsylvania who told him they have begun an investigation. He would not discuss the specifics of the allegation -- which he called "utterly preposterous" -- but said it amounts to, at the most, "inappropriate touching."

It's Friday. Fuck this blog. This blog can eat shit, at least until next week. Still, I wanted to continue my weekday stint of posting to this shit. I'm on a fuckin' roll. And I don't wanna kill my momentum just yet, or throw a shitty ass rerun at you. I'm saving that shit for when I really, really don't give a fuck. Luckily, Cosby old crusty ass has helped in this endeavor. Because I had nothing. I was bone dry, and then I wake up to hear that Bill Cosby might have raped somebody. Just perfect.

Remember when that illegitimate child popped back up some years ago, how ole' Cosby denied that shit. Well, we all know, deep in our hearts, that that kid is his. You just don't put anybody's kid through college and shit. And then we found out he cheated on his strong beautiful black woman with a, I dare say, with a WHITE WOMAN!

I was shocked. I grew up with Cosby all up in my grill with his nice upper-middle class television family, which seemed to mirror his actually family life, schoolin' a brother on the vegetables and the puddin'. I respected his old ass. Then I found out about the, WHITE WOMAN! I can't tell you how shocked I was. That crusty Cosby bastard should have had that Huxtable bastard bangin a White Woman on the side. Would have made that show more believable.

Now I find out he's molesting chicks. And after he gets all up in everybody's shit talking about poor black people don't raise their kids right. Looks like his mama and daddy must have not raised him right. That beyotch wanna front at the NAACP, talking that shit, blah - blah - blahin' all over the fuckin' place, talking about how the lower class blacks have failed the middle and upper class blacks when it comes to the civil rights movement and education. Beyotch wanna act like poor blacks didn't march, didn't die for the cause. Beyotch, the poor didn't fail your upper-middle class ass, you failed your upper-middle class ass. In fact, you failed the entire black race by cheating on your strong educated black woman with a WHITE WOMAN and having a fuckin' baby with her, and lying about that shit when you got caught. Your puddin' poppin ass failed us all. And you keep failing us, as long as you live.

That's why in light of the current allegations, I suggest Bill Cosby do the honorable thing, the Japanese thing, and kill himself. That's right. Commit Sucide. Commit suicide, Bill, and save us all from the embarrassment of knowing and once loving your rapin', molesting, adulterous, WHITE WOMAN bangin ass. As of now, officially, you don't mean shit. You don't mean shit. And you should just die. You crusty ole' bastard.

Inaugural Crap Day

2005-01-20T17:14:00.000-06:00

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. President What's-his-face got sworn in today. Yippee! Freedom for everybody. It's another great day for the great nation of America. Yadda-Yadda-Yadda. I'm pissing all over myself in joy. The world is a better place. Now, let's all vomit in unison.

Stan Lee's Spidey Score Settled

Yadda-Yadda-Yadda. Stan Lee won mucho millions when he didn't pay Kirby, Ditko, or Romita jack shit back in the day. I'm so fuckin' proud of Stan Lee. Way to stand up to the man. Way to get all that money back from all the great characters you created by yourself. It's another great day for the great nation of America. I'm pissing all over myself in joy. Now, let's all vomit two times in honor of the great Stan Lee. BEYOTCH!

I decided I needed a theme song. So, for now, I'm picking one of the new Geto Boys tracks, Nothing 2 Show, off of that Foundation cd. This song represents me how that old Geto Boys track Gangsta of Love used to back when I was a pimped out super-player. Okay, Well, I wasn't necessarily pimped out, more like punked out. And I wasn't really a super-player. I was more like a super-played out beyotch. But, in my mind, I was pimped out. And in the end, it's all about the crap upstairs. Right? I figure if you're gonna go with an image of yourself, you might as well go along with the lie created up in your own head.

Anyway, I was listening to the new Geto Boys cd, trying to see if this shit was as fucked up as some of the old Geto Boys shit. Unfortunately, the boys have grown up. Now, they're all I'm an adult and I got lessons to tell and shit. For a little while you think you're gonna get the crazy fuckin' ignorant Geto Boys of old, and then they get all elderly and wise on a brother. And it don't help that they have these generic ass beats backing them. This shit may not be bad, but it ain't good. And I guess it's all my fault.

Because I should have known that they couldn't give me the Geto Boys of old. These dudes are close to forty now. They're old. They can't wild out and talk shit like they used to. And I shouldn't expect them to. They probably got wives and kids. By the way, don't it weird you out when you hear about some rapper you've been listening to having wives and kids. That shit ain't right. What fuckin' woman marries a Cool J, or a Snoop Dogg? Who the fuck wanna raise kids with a Bushwick Bill? What kind of shit is that? Rappers, like drugged out rockers, ain't supposed to be getting married and shit. That shit ain't right.

But getting back to the point, I decided to stop listening to the new Geto Boys shit, except for my theme song, and I pulled out that Grip It! shit. Now that shit is how I like my Geto Boys. Willie D ain't supposed to be all wise and shit. That brother supposed to be rhyming currency with don't fuck wit me, or act all mushy with eat each other's pussy. I like my Geto Boys stomping the shit outta of somebody and calling women lying ass hoes. It takes me back to the good ole' days when you could be a pimp ass drug dealin' gangsta and a righteous ass Farrakhan following black nationalist all at the same time. Why doesn't ignorant ass shit like that get made anymore. Huh?

Fuck it. Here's another song from that Foundation shit: The Secret. Enjoy.

Don't Mean Jack

2005-01-19T20:22:00.000-06:00

I'm trying to keep up my streak of posting to this shit. So, this post means absolutely nothing. I might have something better tomorrow, or maybe next week. No, I'll try yo make it tomorrow. Right now I'm trying to watch Alias and listen to this new Geto Boys. I would post a link to that shit, but that would take time. And I have no time. So, I'll just throw up some bullshit like I'm doing now in the hopes that that shit will be perceived as thought provoking. And I still have that David Koresh shit to put up. Oh, shit, it's back on. Fuck it. I might post something quick later. But I might not. Now if the rest of this shit has a whole lotta fucked up spelling and doesn't make any sense, it's because I'm watching television and typing at the same time. And that shit just doesn't work well. Fuck it. I gotta go.

Fuck A Compaq

2005-01-18T20:22:00.000-06:00

Do they even make these shits anymore? I swear. I can't stand it.

I had some cool shit typed out. I mean, I was on a fuckin' roll. And all of a sudden, my fuckin' computer reboots on me. I'm like two-thirds of the way done, and I'm real ignorant with this shit. And my fuckin' computer dies on me. I lose everything, because I'm a dumb ass and I haven't thought to hit the save button just once. Oh, and I'm dying. Because now I gotta recreate that shit from memory. And it just won't feel the same. And I'm pissed off, and shit ain't cool. But, what the fuck else can I do.

So, I started that shit off talking about how cold it was. I was like, man it was cold. FUCK! It just ain't the same. FUCK! Man was it cold. How cold was it, you asshole? FUCK! BULLSHIT! Man was it cold. I mean, it was so cold that I actually thought about going to work early. I got up at 5 and put my fuckin clothes on when I normally don't even half wake up until an hour later. And I'm laying in my bed with my shoes and sweater on and a fuckin' cover over me, and I'm cold as fuck, and I actually do the unthinkable: I decide to get up and go to work earlier than I'm supposed to. Do you get this shit? Work? Early? That's some miracle worker type shit. I think those rapture type bastards might be on to something. Who knows? The fuckin' 1000 years could really be up and tomorrow the second coming could be, you know, coming. I can feel Baby Jesus already. I think my Jewish friends better find a fuckin' rock to hide under before, you know, the Earth swallows them whole and shit. If not for my revelation, then for that whole Prince Harry, Prince Michael, Albert, blanket in a can, whatever, fuck it, you know what the fuck I'm talking about, Nazi, whole fuckin' world, FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

Then I smoothly switched over to what I was watching last night, that whole Ken Burns - PBS, Jack Johnson shit. And I started talking about how he loved him some white women. He had one at home and two or three on the road with him. What really got me was all that racism shit, especially when they quoted the LA Times. It would be some shit like this:

The coon wants to fight, and for what if he wins, first his great Negro cock, and his grand nigger-monkey prowess. If he should beat our great fair brother, it could be but over, and soon he will not only be intercoursing with the great pink vagina, but the nigger might also think himself equal to the great European, but still. -- The Los Angeles Times

And I don't know, but for some reason, I would crack the fuck up laughing. These honkys were killing me. But I guess it was because the dumb shit was coming from the LA Times and the NY Times, two pretty liberal newspapers today. Shows you how times have changed.

Now that last part was longer when I first did it, with a lot of dumb racial shit. But I don't have time to recreate that shit because part two of the Jack Johnson story is about to come on soon, and I can foretell some nigga lynching, not as if there wasn't a lot of that shit in the first part. But part one was the upside, part two is the downside. So, that shit's gotta be good, like a really sad VH1 Where Are They Now? Next time I'll learn and save my masterpieces.

Oh yeah, I forgot, I also talked about this, FUCK! Forget it. It wouldn't work. None of this shit works. Oh, I hate you, you fuckin' Compaq. I'll talk about the whole Branch Davidian shit later. You know, when it makes more sense. It's all fucked up.

FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

Just forget it.

I Hate Southern Rap

2005-01-17T15:51:00.000-06:00

I need to write a poem about that shit.

I love listening and reading the debates on who the best rappers are today. I especially love the debate when it includes really doo-doo type rappers. Like, what if someone debated who was the best between T.I. and Cam'ron, or maybe if Trick Daddy is better than Lil' Flip. That kind of shit trips me out. Like, I remember having this debate with a friend some time ago about who I thought was the better druggie, Kurt Cobain or Layne Staley. And I couldn't believe how hard a choice it was.

Kurt made better music while on the stuff, but Layne completely wasted his self out on that shit. Layne had better staying power, while Kurt was a more compact druggie. Kurt was able to stay wasted and operate pretty well, at least in druggie terms, but no one can take away the bloated, over the top impact of Staley. I mean, that dude was fucked up in the end. That brother was like a slow burn. And I respect him for that. So, if a had to go by accomplishments on drugs, I would have to definitely go with Kurt, but if I went by how effective a druggie that person became, I would have to go with Layne.

I personally think you could go on debating that shit for ages. Unlike that T.I. - Cam'ron shit. Because, really, they both suck. I'm amazed at what goes for great these days. And if you disagree with the yung'uns, you must be an old bloated has-been. I won't proclaim that hip-hop is dead. But what I will say is that the present generation has no idea how to gauge what is good hip-hop. The problem isn't with the players. Instead, it's with the audience, the listener. There's no such thing as knowledgeable hip-hop criticism anymore. The present generation hasn't learned the difference between bad, average and great. Their standards are out of whack. They're functionally illiterate when it comes to hip-hop music.

That's why I tend to not trust anything that comes out of the mouth of anybody who says that they really, really like Cam'ron, or Trick Daddy, or Crunk. I mean, I listen to these brothers, but only in between road trips and shits on the toilet. That's what crunk is good for, a good shit on the toilet.

And all of a sudden Cam'ron has meaning, and his lyricism is some really deep subversive shit? Bullshit. Anybody that has hokey-pokey and kumbaya in his shit needs to get it over with and stick the dildo up the ass, because it's over. That's crackhead hoe talk. And nobody will have me say otherwise.

And T.I. That brother is Mary Hart on wax. I've heard cases of people having seizures while listening to him fuck up another bar with that annoying ass southern drawl. And presently, the brother has had the nerve to accent that shit on his songs, making the epidemic worser. I recently had the barrel to the skull waiting to pull the trigger while listening to him rappin' over that Soldier song. Although the blame could quite easily be placed on them three rich surburban Texas beyotches fakin' it, talking that shit about how they don't want nobody lookin' at them unless they street. Puh-leaze beyotches. The only street niggas lookin' at you are the ones lookin to rob and rape your fake asses. I suggest you kill that shit and tell them to please turn the other way. Game already jerkin' off to Mya's dumb ass.

Actually, I found myself jerkin' off to, fuck it... too much information.

Anyway, I'm trying to think of all the great hip-hop artists that have come from the south besides DOC, Geto Boys, Ludacris, Little Brother, and Outkast.

2 Live Crew, Luke, Trick Daddy, that beyotch that be with Trick Daddy, Lil Wayne, Juvenile, Lil Flip, David Banner, Jermaine Dupri, 69 Boyz, Master P, that brother that says he's Master P's brother, and that other dude that claims he's Master P's brother, but he also killed somebody, that crackhead Hot Boy, Missy Elliot and Timbaland if you can claim certain parts of Virginia or West Virginia or whereever the fuck they're from, uh, that fat white dude that used to hang with them, and that black dude who used to hang with them but now does shit to Lil Jon beats, Lil Jon, those two fat dudes that hang with Lil' Jon but don't do shit, the other dude that hangs with Lil Jon but looks a little like Nas, the Mah Lexus brother that hangs with Lil' Jon, plus a whole host of people that I can't even name.

Damn. I guess I was wrong. There are a lot of great artists from the south. If only we took the time to look.

Friday Link-O-Rama

2005-01-14T18:26:00.000-06:00

This is something quick to put up so I can feel proud of myself for doing 5 to 6 posts straight in a week.

Yippee! I'm the greatest human around.

I stole this shit off another site:

RSS Torrent Feed
Towerseek: Bittorrent search engine
Me Speaka No English

Yeah. I said I was done with downloading other people's shit off the Internet. But, fuck it, I'm a liar. I lie all the fuckin' time. I lie about shit I have no business lying about, like what I ate this morning, or what I wore yesterday. I'm a whore with the lying. I just can't stop. You can't trust anything I say or write. I'm full of bullshit. Don't trust me.

I guess that isn't an incentive to keep reading my bullshit, is it?

Oh, well.

Fuck it.

NV: What She Like

Me out until next week.

Redux Fo A Million!

2005-01-13T18:55:00.000-06:00

I was checking out my free annual credit report, and boy was I shocked. I mean, COTDAMN! I am fucked up. My shit is completely ass. I can't believe I fucked my credit up that bad back when I was in college. That's what I get for putting pizza, candy bars and porn on credit. I mean, that shit was FUCKED UP!

I couldn't even go through that shit any longer. Makes you wonder why I still keep getting credit card offers and shit. I'm ashamed of myself. I should have known better. But my dumb ass was living in the moment. I honestly thought that that shit I got for a paycheck and those student loan leftovers would help me out in the end. Now, I'm in debt up to my ass and I got no way to get out from under it. I think I need to file for bankruptcy, or, you know, win a million dollar. One of the two. For real.

I bet you get tired of me wishing for a million dollars. But I've been told if you ask for something often enough, you just might get it.

Please, more titties and ass, more cars, more clothes, plus an Xbox 2 when that shit comes out.

PLEEAZZZE, BABY JESUS! Help a brother out.

I'll make a public declaration on this shit right here. If you give me a million dollars, I'll stop cussing and saying bad things about people. And I'll go to church every Sunday. Wait, let's make it one Sunday in the month, every month. I gotta be real with this shit. I won't put anything up here that I don't see myself going through with. So, no more one night stands. No more sleeping with chicks, I mean women, that I can't stand. No more calling women, chicks. No more deliberate lying. No more stealing, and that includes downloading crap. And, damn it, no more pornography.

That last one's gonna be hard, like my paynas. No more crappy jokes, either. I'm gonna get right. I gotta get right. If only so I can win a million dollars. I'd help them Tsunami victims, feed the poor and shit, stop wallowing in my own filth and self-pity. I'd be a better man.

Sure, you should strive to be a better man before you get a million, but what's the fuckin' point in that shit. The reason poor people stay fucked up, because we need to stay fucked up for the crappy fact that we're poor. I'm a porn addict, an alcoholic, and a drug fiend, and I've been that way since the day I was born. It's part of my nature. I was born to be fucked up like I am. You better be glad I ain't rapin and killin'. I need a fuckin award for not doing that shit. That's why the government should be glad to hook me with the welfare.

Okay, I'm bullshittin'. At least a little. But I could still use a million. And maybe some ass. But I'll take the million over some ass. I figure if I get a million, I can get all the ass I want.

Don'cha think.

Haterade 2005 - I Smell

2005-01-12T19:04:00.000-06:00

It ain't worth it no more. I'm done with it. Done with it all. It's too much trouble. Too much hazard involved. Too much time wasted. I could be doing a host of other really important things, and instead I do this shit, all the time, like Eddie, except without the partying. So, today, I kill that shit. That shit I call downloading.

I'm tired of piracy. It just ain't no more fun. I should just win a million dollars and get this shit over with. Get a house, a wife, a dog, some decent clothes, a brand new car, a fuckin' life. Yep. That's all I need, just to win a million dollars. That shouldn't be so hard. Then I wouldn't have to download shit anymore.

Downloading makes me feel dirty, at least when I do a lot of it. I feel guilty, then I think about donating a sock, or a pair of used underwear to charity. Then I go a couple of days without downloading and I get piracy withdrawal. That's when you find yourself downloading shit you have no business downloading, like country music, or a torrent of last week's 7th Heaven, or some crazy ass horse-goat porn. Weird type bullshit.

I'm personally tired of hunting down sites to download shit from and having that shit go offline or full exclusive or some other flimsy shit. You spend half the year finding shit, and the other half downloading. And the shit starts all over again when the new year begins. I'm sick of it. And it ain't nobody's fault but my own. If I was a real man, I wouldn't be spending hours downloading shit I could just go out and pay for. If I wasn't such a broke bastard.

I guess that's one thing I've learned since being a man: you ain't really a man unless you're making money like a man. If you're always broke, and can't take a chick out for anything over 50 or 60 dollars, and your car is a piece of crap you wish you didn't have to be seen driving, then you ain't a man. You can be old as fuck, but if you're broke as fuck, you ain't a man. Real men don't respect you. Women don't respect you. Your friends don't respect you. And your family definitely don't respect you. You're officially a joke. If you're over the age of 24 and you're still making Red Lobster money, you're a joke. The world don't love your ass.

Because real men have real jobs, jobs where people don't look at you funny when you tell them what you do for a living. The only exceptions are garbage dudes and other brothers with shitty ass jobs that pay big time money and give out them city benefits. Otherwise, you're a joke. And you're a fuckin' joke if you download shit on a regular basis and claim to be a man. Because real men don't download. They rape, beat, kill, and steal (in the real world sense), but they don't download shit.

That's why you always have dudes playing that real world bootlegging shit up in forums. They want you to believe the only reason they download shit is so they can sell that shit on the corner and make real world money. These beyotches need to fess up and admit they're hunting down that Britney Spears and Ashanti bullshit because, well, they really like them some Britney and Ashanti. These people need to admit that they're pussy just like all the rest of us downloading bastards.

You smell it. You know the deal.

Just admit it, pussy.

Haterade 2005 - (No Homo?)

2005-01-11T18:20:00.000-06:00

Bol goes super-anal (no homo?) with KanyeGate, a site specifically created to piss on the ass we all know as Kanye West (no homo?). I don't think I'm using that shit right, especially since I was contemplating another foray on the subject of man rape.

I was on the train, and this great idea popped in my head: man rape. Or man rape, part 2. See, when I was a teenager, these dudes who were hired by the landlord came to repaint the apartment. And there was this old dude who was part of the work crew. I remember him telling me that he thought it was gay for dudes to jerk off. See, he was in prison, and he said that he never jerked off in prison. He told me that he would rather fuck another dude in the ass than masturbate. I thought that was some weird shit. Because I grew up believing that fuckin' another dude in the ass was the epitome of gay. You couldn't get no gayer if you tried.

But this old dude told me that the brothers locked up just wouldn't be caught jerking off with another dude in the same cell. That shit was considered weak. You were more of a man in prison if you raped another dude, or if you had one of those flimsy brothers licking you off. And of course you were really a man if you were pimping several dudes, especially the young ones. Young dudes were considered prime currency. Plus, their asses were less worn out. A tight ass is a good ass, I suppose.

Now, taking one in the butt was considered gay. You could hit that ass, but you couldn't give up the ass. You could get your salad tossed, but you didn't want to be the salad tosser. I guess there's some logic in that shit. I don't know. I was about to go See, what I did there, but, well, I think I've gone too far with this... You know. Shit. Ha. I'm sorry.

Anyway. I decided not to touch that, you know, shit. And instead, I wanted to talk about this whole ban Kanye West thing. The problem is that I don't really hate the dude all that much. Yeah, he's an asshole. His head is too big. And, I don't know, he's not as talented as he thinks he is. But, you know, I don't care.

Except maybe for the fact that I like a little coordinated hate. Not angry, kill a homo hate. More like, I hate him, fuck that bitch, let's ruin his career, let's kill his shine type of hate. That type of hate is fun. Or maybe it isn't. I probably should no homo this entire entry. But I honestly don't give a fuck.

Fuck it.

Torrent Sites
Mp3 Surround Sound Codec

Jabba-Jabba

2005-01-10T22:50:00.000-06:00

Almost effed up already. One day into this shit, and I almost effed my new plan up. I guess I should make up for it by putting out something special. But I got nothing special. I got nothing. Except that today was a really weird day.

Went to a funeral. And at the funeral somebody had a heart attack and died. Ain't that some weird shit. They didn't die at the funeral. But they did die eventually, like thirty minutes or so from when I post this shit. I consider that weird, or maybe something, something I don't have the words for.

I was too busy wallowing in my own grief to give a shout out to Will Eisner. Not the grief of the funeral. It was some other bullshit grief. Because Eisner died a couple days after the new year. Dude created one of the coolest comic book characters around, The Spirit.

I first read several Spirit stories when I was a kid, at the library, no doubt. I was searching for comics, out of the hell of it, I guess. You know, seeing if the library even had shit like that. And I ran across a hardbound copy of several Spirit stories, something like a compilation, I assume. For some reason I remember that shit. Cause I also read some comic book story called Barefoot Gen, I think that's the name of it, a book about some Japanese kid around Hiroshima. I think it was a before and after type tale. I definitely remember the weird manga style drawings of decaying skin and maggots on live people still walking around, dudes that had gotten effed up by the blast.

When I heard that Eisner died, that was the main thing I remembered, the maggots in a live man's decaying flesh.

I don't know. Maybe I'm fucked up.

Will Eisner Dies
Another Bio

Will Eisner Official Site
Spirit Database

Condolences
Tribute Art

Spirit Images

Me Don't Make No Sense: 2005

2005-01-09T15:49:00.000-06:00

I wish I could download clothes and food. Then I'd be straight.

Yippee. 2005! Fuck 2004. I don't love that hoe.

Okay. I'm a bit late with this new year crap. I spent Christmas hungry as a mutha. I got paid a week later and ate like a pig. My girl dropped kicked my filthy ass. And I'm broke again. But I swear, 2005 will be better, even if it didn't start off that way.

Now about this bullshit site. I'm going to try to post three times a week. I'll fill out the week like Johnny Carson, throwing my old weak bullshit from the past on your asses. That's right, this blog is gonna start having reruns. I got two years of crappy ass posts to shove down your throats, and I aim to do just that. I might clean them up, add to them, maybe do a little editing. But they'll still be the same ole' crappy ass shit you've grown to love. Make crap out of crap, I say.

Year-End Love

2004-12-22T04:17:00.000-06:00

It's almost the end of the year. I was thinking about doing a year end review about everything. But I decided against it, because I'm lazy as fuck. Plus, I got nothing to say. The truth is I can barely remember half of last month, let alone the other half of the year. I mean, I've been trying really hard to think about what I was doing back in March or April, and I can't remember a goddamn thing. But I must have been doing something because I was tired, and bitching all the time about how tired I was. I must have been on some whirlwind bullshit, because I think that's what the fuck I was moaning about. But I can't remember. I can't remember shit. So, that pretty much negates a year end review. You can't do year end if you can't remember the first end of the year.

So, what the fuck else do I have to write about before I get the fuck away from this computer for the holidays. Note: I'm not really going anywhere, or visiting anybody special for the holidays. I'll be stuck here, all by myself. Boo-hooo. No Christmas for me. No Christmas bonus. No ipod from the boss. No cool book from a secret Santa. No new book out to peddle. No new money. No cool fuckin' Christmas presents. No nothing.

So, STOP FUCKIN' TELLIN' ME ABOUT ALL THE COOL SHIT YOU'VE ALREADY GOTTEN FOR CHRISTMAS!!!

Cause I ain't getting shit. I don't wanna hear it, or read it, or anything. Everybody all happy and shit. Fuck you happy bastards. I HATE YOU!!! Well, no I don't, at least not all the way. Just a little bit. I hate you all just a little bit. Beyotches with new books, making money, contemplating their new fuckin' lives. Yeah. I know I'm supposed to be happy for you all and shit like that. It's not about the presents, it's about Jesus. Yeah. Shut the fuck up, beyotch, because it is about the presents. It's always been about the presents. Those three wise dudes didn't come empty handed, did they? Nope, you asshole. They came with gifts, crappy gifts, but gifts nonetheless. So, don't pull that Christ day bullshit on me. If you ain't getting shit this year, like me, then Christmas ain't nothing but a beyotch. BEYOTCH, I SAY!

Oh! If I could just piss on you all through these Internets and shit, I would. I'd piss on you, you fuckin' rich ass Paris Hilton whores. You make me sick. SICK! ARGGH! You'll rue (I think that's the right word) the day you flaunted your new big breasted whores in front of me. I'll make you all pay for my continued misfortunes.

So,

Merry FUCKIN' Christmas,

Assholes,

I hate you.

Crap Torrent

2004-12-20T18:47:00.000-06:00

Several big torrent sites went down last week, or was it this week. Whatever. But you can still hit the SN mirrors, including Bi-torrent. And a cool wrestling torrent, PWtorrents

Top 10 Hip-Hop Albums of 2004: Part 4

2004-12-17T17:27:00.000-06:00

Holy hot booty shit. Batman. I'm almost done. Yippeee! Now I can go back to half-assing this shit. You dudes probably won't see another post from me until the year 3000. Then, BAM! I'm posting all up in yo ass. Anybody catch Smackdown last night. I thought the shit was pretty good, even though from a wrestling perspective, it didn't make any sense. They not only showed the Cena-Jesus match which was just on Pay-Per-View for free a couple of days later, they also gave away a quality WWE Championship match between Kurt Angle and JBL. That's PPV worthy shit on free tv. And the Kurt Angle-JBL match was pretty good until the disqualification. I assume the boys up top did it to bring back the public faith in Angle. Many people think because of his neck injury, he just can't cut it anymore. But last night's show proved otherwise. It proved that Kurt can still cut a pretty decent promo and put on a top quality match if he wants to. He probably isn't the most consistent dude in the ring anymore, but he can still put on a good show in spots.

Let's get off of wrestling and finish this countdown. Where was I? Number 3: Masta Ace's A Long Hot Summer. It's funny how the second tier dudes back in the day are doing better than the top names from back then. I mean, Big Daddy Kane, Biz Markie, Kool G. Rap, all got better shine back in the golden age, and Masta Ace was a likable rapper with a nice witty persona who was able to provide a mid-level hit or two back then. Now, the only dude doing better among that group is Ace. He's dropped several noteworthy albums in recent years, including that Disposable Arts shit from a while back. And people are starting to give him props on that Slaughtahouse shit when he was incorporated. Now, supposedly at retirement, Ace drops another top quality record. I won't call this shit a classic, but it's real, like they used to say. Long Hot Summer is one of the most honest releases of the year, and one of the funniest as well, focusing on trying to make it and survive in the rap world. I won't get into if the story concept that drives this record works like it should. I honestly didn't pay much attention to the skits. A sidenote: people need to stop making skits, especially the ones with the crappy acting. That I-talian don't sound all that I-talian to me. Still, as a whole, you won't get better indie production, done by a slew of players, and better honest rapping by our man Ace than on this record. By the way, Fuck All Y'all.

At number 2 is one of the most hated men in hip-hop, Kanye West, with his debut album, The College Dropout. The main draw of this cd is the production, the same production that kept Jay-Z respectable in the rap game. Kanye's style is part street, part R&B, driven by soul samples, samba patterns, and hard beats. I hate to say it, but Kanye West helped bring the soul back to hip-hop, which had in recent years been drowned in cold synthesizers, and repetitive, dull boom-bap type bass and drum patterns. On top of this soul driven hip-hop, Kanye went away from the battling and gun talk, which was evident on advanced copies of the album, and focused on real man issues, working at a job you hate but need, wanting and getting things you can't afford, loving and staying connected to a family with major league issues. He removed the gloss and brought the real gritty world back into hip-hop. Most of the tracks work, even though Kanye West isn't the tightest emcee, although he's better than what most call their favorite. And I still find it hard to listen to that workout plan shit. Also, Jay-Z just doesn't belong on this disc. His attitude just doesn't fit in with the rest of the album. And isn't it too bad all this love is going to waste because West seems to have grown too big for his britches. Did I say britches? I meant beyotches. Or did I? Fuck it. Anyway. I won't let the real Kanye West fuck up the Kanye West portrayed on this album. The College Dropout West has created an identity real hip-hop fans can identify with, and I applaud him for the accomplishment.

At number 1 is the album that most people agree is one of the greatest hip-hop albums of the year. I might actually call this one a classic. I believe people will look at this release ten years from now like they look at that Tribe and Gangstarr shit from the past. I hate when people call bullshit classic, but I just find this shit one of kind. It probably will never be duplicated. And you might find people trying to copy this shit in the near future. The album I'm talking about is Madvillainy by Madlib and MF DOOM, who go by the name Madvillain. This is clean, quick, wham-bam-thank-you-mam hip hop. No hooks, mostly sample-based, with very little singing involved. Most, if not all the songs never go over the three minute mark, one of the reasons the Beatles shit is so good. You better have some tight shit if you go over three minutes in a song. And if your album is over 45 minutes, it better be filled with some of the greatest shit ever heard. Like most movies over two hours, a 45 minute or more cd is usually shit. Anyway, DOOM pretty much flows over the beat until the next skit interrupts him, and then the next skit is interrupted by another Madlib beat, which DOOM immediately slaughters. Well, slaughters may be a little too much, because most of this shit is laid back. The beats are laid back. DOOM's flow is laid back. This is just some laid back shit. Unlike MM Food, the skits work, and they don't run on too long. All this shit works together like a cut and paste collage, some real artistic type gallery shit. In fact they should put this shit up in some gallery like a piece of art, because that's just what this shit is. I dare say, this isn't just the best hip-hop album of the year, but the best album of the year, period.

Quick Link

2004-12-17T00:06:00.000-06:00

Give Me Centrism or Give Me Death!

If you are the kind of person who talks about music too much, there are two words that undoubtedly play an integral role in your workaday lexicon: overrated and underrated. This is because those two sentiments pop up in 90 percent of all musical discussions.

What’s interesting about this phenomenon is that no one uses the same criteria when applying either of those terms. For example, bands can be overrated because certain rock critics like them too much (Sonic Youth, Wilco, Yo La Tengo), or underrated if they sell a lot of records but aren’t widely regarded as brilliant (Thin Lizzy, Duran Duran), or underrated because barely anyone seems to know who they are (Tortoise, Sloan, Lifter Puller). Bands can be overrated because they’re good-looking (the Lemonheads in 1992), or they can be underrated because they’re good-looking (the Lemonheads in 1994). Some groups can be overrated and underrated at the same time (Radiohead). Some groups seem overrated on purpose (Oasis). Some groups seem eternally underrated because no matter how hard they try they’re just not as interesting as groups who are overrated on purpose (Blur). It is very easy to be underrated, because all you need to do is nothing. Everyone wants to be underrated. It’s harder to become overrated, because that means people had to think you were awesome before they thought you sucked. Nobody wants to be overrated, except for people who like to live in big houses.

However, I am not interested in overrated and underrated bands.

It’s too easy, and all it means is that somebody else was wrong. I’m obsessed with bands that are rated as accurately as possible in other words, nobody thinks they’re better than they are, and nobody thinks they’re worse. They have the acceptable level of popularity, they have attained the critical acclaim their artistry merits, and no one is confused about their cultural significance. They are, in fact...

Operation Eff Kanye West in the Azz (No Homo?)

2004-12-16T20:51:00.000-06:00

Group Petitions The Recording Academy to Revoke Rapper Kanye West's 10 Grammy Nominations

Members of a group calling itself The Mindset Army have drafted a petition to The Recording Academy seeking to have the popular rapper/producer's name removed from consideration in the 10 categories in which he was nominated for Grammy Awards.

Sign The Petition

Even More Food

2004-12-16T20:29:00.000-06:00

Leftovers are spoiled.

No more food for now.

Top 10 Hip-Hop Albums of 2004: Part 3

2004-12-16T20:03:00.000-06:00

Day Three, or day three and three-quarters, however you wanna see it. We're halfway there to number one. And I'm glad because I can't keep this posting everyday shit up. It ain't my style. I like to sneak shit up here when nobody's looking. They say you should post everyday to keep an ever growing audience, but most people can't do that shit. That's why they quit. But if you half-ass it like me, you can go on blogging forever and ever. Post today, wait a week, post twice then, and don't post for an entire month, then spring shit on beyotches. Ha-Ha! You thought I was GONE! Wrong beyotches. I'm back! That's the real way to do this shit.

On to number 6. There are underachievers, and there are those you don't expect shit from. And Masta Killa was the Wu-member nobody expected shit from, but No Said Date defies expectations. Maybe it's because of that that this album ranks so high. Masta Killa pulls off a fast one and delivers a Wu-album that actually sounds like a classic Wu-album. He does something neither Method or GZA have been able to do, put out a decent album in the new millennium. Makes you wonder if Masta Killa was always so talented and was just being held down by the record companies and the other Wu-members? Or maybe it was just a fluke? I'm going with the latter. That doesn't take anything away from what the other Killa did this year. He brings all the elements of a Wu-album: the Rza production, the soul samples, and the many Wu-guest appearances. Raekwon and Ghostface kill it on D.T.D, and Ol' Dirty does his final drunken chorus over some Sandford & Son shit. If you gotta pick up a Wu-album, make sure you check this shit out. It's Killa. See what I did there. Fuck it.

Let's go on to Ghostface, who seems to have dropped the Killah for better marketability. It didn't really help much, because I don't think The Pretty Tony Album sold that well. Too bad, because it was pretty good, although I will say this shit underachieves. Which is why Ghostface turned around a month or two later after this shit dropped and put out the Theodore Unit album, which featured most of the shit that didn't make it on Pretty Tony. Makes you wonder if shit like Guerilla Hood and the Drummer had made the album, how better would Pretty Tony have fared? How much more love would this album have gotten? So, how do the two compare to one another. The two releases are two halves of one whole. But Pretty Tony is the better half. Theodore Unit is unfortunately a crew album, featuring way too many lesser rappers. It may have rawer production, but it also suffers from worser rap skills. The only downside with Pretty Tony is that it doesn't include some of the Ghostface tracks that appear on Pretty Tony, and it suffers from weird sellout shit like Ghostface which is a blatant attempt to get radio play. But shit like Metal Lungies and the classic Holla make up for these missteps. The rest of the album features standard Ghostface shit, soul music over hard beats, with Ghostface flowing nonsensical over that shit in that crazy ol' man style of his. The worse thing that most people can say about the release is that it just isn't enough. They wish there were more. And if that's the worst you can say about this shit, that you wish there were more, it means this shit didn't do all that bad.

At number 4 is MF DOOM's MM Food. Most of the album features sample-based hip-hop over ol' school drumming and beatboxing. Of course there are a boatload of skits, one too many in the middle of the album. DOOM bases each song around a name of food, although I have no idea how they relate to the song content. And this shit suffers much like the King Geedorah release from a year ago, many of the instrumentals have been heard before if you've ever picked up his Spices and Herbs shit. Kon Karne still feels like that Grimm track from awhile back. But like Geedorah, Food tends to overcome these deficiencies by the sheer will of DOOM. This shit isn't heavy and it isn't light. DOOM freestyles over this shit effortlessly. Many of the songs work better the more you hear them, this in relations from being blown back by a song at first, and later tiring of it. Also, like most good albums, there's very little filler, outside of the skits in the middle. Each track seems to belong with the rest. I'd personally take a good ten to twelve track release over some bloated 18 to 24 track piece of crap. And what does DOOM deliver, an album that looks and sounds like an album, like all the pieces belong and work together, where there isn't a track that doesn't belong. And in the end, isn't that real album making?

Tomorrow:

3. Masta Ace - The Long Hot Summer
2. Kanye West - College Dropout

Top 10 Hip-Hop Albums of 2004: Part 2

2004-12-15T17:23:00.000-06:00

Day Two. Let's continue on our journey to what I believe were the tightest hip-hop cds of 2004.

At number 9 is My Own Worst Enemy by Edo G featuring Pete Rock. You know Edo G, that Father to your sperm, dude. I honestly don't remember anything else relevant this dude has done. But Pete Rock, well, we know, Pete Rock is the draw, why most people would buy this cd. Pete Rock does most of the production on the 10 track album, while Edo plays the C.L. role and just raps (Just do my beats, beyotch and let me do my job, hoe. That's all you gotta do is my fuckin' beats). These aren't Pete Rock's best beats, and Edo G isn't one of my favorite rappers. But Edo updates his flow and delivery, and Pete Rock's average shit is better than most producers' greatest tracks, which results in creating one of the most impressive releases of the year. Pete Rock should've produced the entire album though. All he had to do is produce 10 tracks, instead of 7 he provides (lazy bastard). But the other producers come through, especially on Wishing, where Masta Ace continues to impress this year as elder rap statesman.

At number 8 is the weeded out Leak Brothers with their self-titled debut. The Leak Brothers consist of Cage and Tame One. This cd continues where shit like Nighthawks left off, where Cage joins with another Weatherman Crew member to produce somewhat of a concept album, this time all about extra strength weed. I wondered if the theme would hold up through an entire album, and the truth is, it really doesn't matter. Because this shit is all about mood and attitude. The first half of the cd is standard rap shit, J-Zone, weed talk, Camu, more weed talk, RJD2, and even more weed talk. But by the second half, this shit goes into full Cage territory, you know, that weird, death, druggie, crazed out type shit, especially on the tight Delerium, and the eerie Dead. Hell, even Tame One channeling Slick Rick on Druggie Fresh comes off far more moody and horrific than the Doug E. Fresh party shit it was based on. And that's good. If you dig that Necro/Cage white boy horror shit, you'll definitely'll be able to get into this.

Now we reach number 7 with Handsome Boy Modeling School and White People. Handsome Boy is Prince Paul, former De La Soul and GraveDiggaz producer, and Automator, producer on Dr. Octagon and Gorillaz. There second album goes more into the rock territory. The singing tracks work better than the rapping tracks. I was suprised that I'd enjoy Jack Johnson and John Oates more than I would Casual and Rza, especially since Jack Johnson sucks almost as much as John Mayer. But suprisingly I dug the white boy shit more than the hood shit. This cd is at its best when it's in mellow mode, which is most of the time. The only real misstep I noticed was with the Chino Moreno, El-P & Cage collaboration The Hours. Chino's awful singing ruins an otherwise dope track. The song doesn't kick into high gear until Cage and El-P break on the scene. Also, the skits aren't quite as funny as they were on on How's Your Girl. That Chris Elliot sample is killer. But overall, this shit works. So, go get it.

Tomorrow:

6. Masta Killa - No Said Date
5. Ghostface - The Pretty Tony Album
4. MF Doom - MM Food

Quickie

2004-12-14T20:44:00.000-06:00

Rare Beatles Christmas Recordings
DC Countdown

Sources tell CBR News that numerous titles already in publication play in to the events of DC Countdown. "Adam Strange," "Teen Titans," "JSA" were three of the books mentioned where current and future storylines lead in to "DC Countdown." And according to our own Rich Johnston, his sources indicate this story leads into a "Crisis 2" series of some sort.

In the solicitation text for "DC Countdown" released today, the only clues given were that each story in the book "follows a member of the JLA through a mystery that touches on nearly every character in the DCU" and that it "is an essential project that features nearly every major character operating in the DC Universe. It's a project that will resonate for months to come and is a perfect jumping-on point for readers who've been wondering where the people who helped deliver 'Identity Crisis' could possibly be going next."

Turning a Crisis Into A Drama

The Crisis 2 saga continues. Written by Geoff Johns, drawn by Phil Jiminez, it appears that "Identity Crisis" and other events across the DC Universe will provide plot points that will all tie into next summer's extravaganza at DC. Look for a number of books to start kicking things off.

An early indicator will be in the "Adam Strange" series. Keep your eyes open over there for something that will kick off Crisis 2... whether in the book, or on a spinoff series entitled "The Rann/Thangar War."

I'm told other events contributing to the overall revamping and adrenaline injection of the DC Universe include "Day of Vengance," "Villains United" and "Amazons Attack."

And recently in an issue of "Teen Titans" written by Geoff Johns, Batman (The Adult Tim Drake) mentions a crisis that happened not long after the Titans got sucked into the future.

Top 10 Hip-Hop Albums of 2004: Part 1

2004-12-14T16:27:00.000-06:00

It's that time of the year again. I did it last year, and here I am doing it again. I've seen a couple of the lists already. Some are completely absurb. Somebody had Snoop Dogg and Cam'ron up in there. The man getting most of the spotlight this year is Kanye West. Several magazines have his album at the top. His album is pretty far up there with me also, even though he is an asshole. Seems like there have been a lot of assholes this year. Who knows. I might follow this list up with the top assholes of 2004. I wonder what would be at the top, Beyonce's asshole or Britney's asshole. You see what I did there. See it. Amazing. And disgusting.

Anyway. I had a hard time deciding number 10. Usually people put really personal crappy favorites at 10, and I'm no exception. At first, I thought about RJD2's Since We Last Spoke. The album was uneven, but there were some tracks on there that I really enjoyed. This album wasn't as decent as DeadRinger, but it was a respectable follow up in the sophomore album vein. I don't know if I enjoyed his switch from soul to rock, seeing that many of the best tracks on Since We Last Spoke still have a soulful bent to them, but I still respected that he was brave enough to branch out into rock, even if it was corny 80s rock.

Since I wasn't completely impressed with Since We Last Spoke, I decided to focus on the album I've studied the most this year, Foreign Exchange's Connected. This album was put together over the Internet, or AIM, between Little Brother's Phonte and some dude named Nickolay (I hope I got that right). I enjoyed this cd because it felt like an album, like all the tracks were meant to be grouped together. The only problem I had with the album was it's rhythm and blues, neo-soul sound. I'm sorry, but that Roots sound just doesn't work for me completely when it comes to hip-hop. I like a grittier, more sample based approach, or at least one without so much singing included. 9th Wonder seems to understand the balance. Nickolay doesn't. Still, I was impressed with this new dude's production. I think he'll make a great R&B producer in the future.

So, now I introduce the album I picked for 10. This album came out of nowhere. I kept passing it up. I honestly didn't think that it would be that great. The cd I'm talking about is Blueprint's Chamber Music, the best instrumental hip-hop album of 2004. I normally don't find Blueprint's production all that compelling. It's mostly dulling and depressive. But that style works here. Most people won't be able to get into this brooding symphonic work of art, and at times it approaches elevator music, but after a couple of complete listens, the sound and constuction of the album works for me. And Blueprint seems to be one of the few people around that can make Puff Daddy, or P. Diddy sound deep.

Tomorrow:

9. Edo G Featuring Pete Rock - My Own Worst Enemy
8. Leak Brothers - Leak Brothers

Quick Hit

2004-12-13T19:44:00.000-06:00

Comix Vault
Spidermedia
OniPress: Free Comics
Elektra Assassin

The Return of the Crackhead

2004-12-13T18:50:00.000-06:00

I had fallen asleep after several very long and heavy weekdays. The weekend had gone by quickly and I found myself phasing in and out of sleep, my eyes widening, and slowly shrinking back again. This had gone on all Sunday, all through to the night. And I still wasn't done. Around nine that night my eyes had finally closed their final time before the next morning. Or so I thought.

It was mid-morning, or twilight, or deep night, I don't know. Something slowly woke me up in the middle of the night. At first I chose to ignore it. Unfortunately, the tapping became louder and far more regular. I turned over and smothered my face with my pillow hoping to drown out the noise. Still, the tapping continued. My head finally rose and I slowly looked around. The tapping continued. And I knew my sleep would finally be interrupted.

I sat myself up. I searched around the room blindly for a pair of pants to slip on, and possibly a tee-shirt. I knocked several magazines over onto the floor. It was sometime after three in the morning. I could faintly hear my name being called from outside. I peaked out the window, went to the door and walked to the lobby. I opened the door and was hit with a gust of strong cold wind. I looked around. And there he was, my crackhead unkle.

He quickly approached me and told me that he was sorry for waking me. He told me his landlord wouldn't let him in. He rushed passed me. And what he did next would horrify, anger, and completely confound me for the rest of the day. I stood at the door, which was still halfway open. He walked to my room, sat on my bed, took off his shoes, lifted his legs and laid in my bed, pulled the covers over him, took off his glasses, and told me he was going to sleep. And like I said, I stood there by the door dumbfounded.

This son of a beyotch had come to my house, awaken me, went to my room, and preceded to go to sleep in the bed he had just gotten me out of. And I wondered how much time I would do for the murder I was about to commit. Of course it would be life. And I wasn't looking forward to tossing salads and having my teeth busted out.

So, I decided to cut on all the lights in the house, followed by the fans, the oven, and some running water in the bathroom. And then I remembered the fight me and my mother had had several nights earlier. Something about keys. Apparently, my mother believed that she had left her brother's spare keys at my house a week earlier, or she had given them to me for some reason neither of us could remember some weeks earlier. My part of the argument consisted of me reminding my mother how feeble-minded she was, and how she had never given me, or even brought those keys over to my house. I didn't have them, and I didn't know where they were, and she was wrong and I was right.

But because of the special circumstance before me I had decided to forego my pride and actually do something unthinkable, actually look for the keys. I searched the tables, under the couch, in the couch, behind the couch, behind the stove, in my drawers, behind the drawers, hell, even around the bar. Yeah. I know I don't drink, but everybody needs a bar. I eventually decided to look in the box my mother used to throw all my crap into when she was trying to clean my place up recently. And underneath some old newspapers and some wet magazines (don't ask), there they were, his keys.

I quickly ran to my room and told him that I had found his keys. He was shocked. He began questioning me about if they really worked, were they old keys? He told me that recently his locks had been changed. And I told him these keys would get him in, even though I really didn't know for sure. He questioned me again. And I told him to go check them out. I slowly kicked his ass out of my apartment, and I watched him run through the cold gusty wind to parts unknown. And of course, I was happy.

I waited awhile with the lights on. I was fearful he might return. He would call me some thirty minutes later telling me that he had gotten in. And I was happy.

The only problem now was trying to get myself back into sleeping mode. Unfortunately, I failed. And I was pretty tired when it was time to go to work. In fact, it fucked up my whole day because I was having weird muscle spasms all over my body. And now that I'm back home, I can't go to sleep. And I got a resume that I have to prepare for an interview I'm going to have tomorrow.

And I'm scared as hell, and fucked up, especially since I have no idea if my crackhead unkle will return for another visit.

Do it to'em Ol' Skool

2004-12-03T16:01:00.000-06:00

Holy monkey crap, Batman. Three posts in one day. I'm on fire in this beyotch.

Anyway. Check out the new edition of ImageText. They're focusing on silver age DC characters and comics. With a nice comic book art exhibit and some decent character and comic book backgrounds. You can even download the catalog of crap in pdf form.

Help is on the Way

I'm out until whenever.

Mechanical Parts

2004-12-03T07:12:00.000-06:00

Someone asked me recently why I don't drink. I pretty much get asked that question alot. Not drinking seems almost as worse as molesting children, or fuckin horses and chickens in the ass. Drinking is a pretty big part of the youth culture. I don't know how it is when you're older. But if you're a young dude who doesn't drink these days, you might as well lock your ass in a hole and never come out. Because nobody wants a sober person around them when they're about to act a fool.

I usually answer these people with a I just don't drink. I really don't feel like getting into detailed shit with mostly strangers. But to make it clear, me not drinking is pretty similar to good girls going wild. You know the story, when a chick who's been brought up strict and finally gets a chance to break free, usually in college or some place else, far away from her parents, and goes wild and slutty and drinks and whores herself out to the campus. You know, shit like that. Me, I'm that shit in reverse.

I was brought up with fucked up adults offering little kids sips of beer and wine. You want some beer, Ronny. You wanna sip. Here take a sip. I had older dudes letting me take puffs off of their cigarettes. I had chicks offering me weird shit. You want some titty to go along with that beer. Here take some titties with that beer and cigarettes. I was brought up in bizarro world. Before I was ten I had had beer, weed, titty shots and cigarettes. By the time the pubs hit, the only thing I still really wanted was the titties. Unfortunately, I needed more titties. If I didn't have these hormones rollin through me, I might have actually been turning down the titties. Weird.

Now you might say after reading that last paragraph that my life was on some ole Michael Jackstone Neverland shit. Well, shit wasn't that bad. I didn't have people giving me the bad touch. But I did happen to be acquainted with a lot of slutty young girls, or really fucked up young girls, little women who probably were going through some Jacko shit at home. Sometimes I feel bad because I probably wouldn't have felt a girl up, or got laid at all if it wasn't for many of these low self-esteem chicks. Unfortunately, the cities breed these chicks like weeds.

Much like they breed the fucked up adults who raise their kids to get high and talk ebonics and use foul language, sort of like I do. But fortunately, in certain areas, all that shit had an adverse effect. By the time I hit eighteen, I pretty much couldn't stand alcohol or drugs. Although I still needed titties for some reason. Trying to get me to drink a beer is like Michael Jackson trying to give out the sex.

Lisa Marie. You want me to rock you tonite. All I gotta do is pull my detachable penis outta of the drawer, screw it on, and we're ready to go. No, Michael, just keep your penis in your pocket or drawer or whatever, I'll just go it solo tonite. But all I gotta do is screw it on real quick. I said NO you goddamn freak. Now go and play with the kids if you just gotta do something. Okay. hee-hee.

To add in some weird sense of deja vu I also really hate alcoholics. I can't stand being around drunk people. They annoy the fuck out of me. And I think I can't stand slutty chicks either, unless I'm really really horny.

So, there you have it, one of the reasons for my fucked up being. Now I'll never know again the sweet bitter nectar of the alcohol, or the hazed out reality of the drugs. But at least I still have the titties. I'll always have the titties.

Sigh.

Defending the Coon

2004-12-03T06:25:00.000-06:00

Everybody's talking about that Coon Picnic song by Nas. I don't find it all that courageous a song. Yeah. He calls out Kobe Bryant. Everybody calls out Kobe Bryant. Kobe Bryant's an asshole. That's the easy target. But what if he said Michael Jordan.

Jordan likes the white women. Wasn't he being blackmailed by some white chick he had cheated on his fine black woman with so many years before. And hasn't his shoes been part of the over commercialism of the street culture. One hundred dollar gym shoes. I don't hear Jordan getting political, talking about that racial injustice. Nope. Nas plays the pussy role and goes after the soft Bounty beyotch Kobe Bryant. And everybody's hailing it as some big achievement. It's weak shit to me.

The same for calling out UPN and the WB. Has Nas even looked at the WB lately. How many black people still pop up on that network. Steve Harvey and who else? Right. There ain't no more black people on the WB. So, when Nas calls them out, he's late as fuck. And UPN. Doesn't Eve have a show on UPN. Is she a coon now. Has he even watched half those shows on that network. I haven't. But the ones I have seen aren't that offensive. Is Half and Half some retread of Andy and Amos? How about Girlfriends? I wouldn't say so. They may not be Seinfeld. But what is.

I'm sure Nas is referring to the old shows on the network, like the Parkers, and that old slave show everybody always brings up, and that Homeboys in Outer Space shit, shit from fifteen million years ago. Who knows with Nas. The boy is all over the place, all the time, in his pseudo, ghetto, Jesus Christ pose, looking to save hip-hop from its sins. Only problem is Nas is part the problem.

By the way, what's the name of that hot big breasted chick on Girlfriends. Not the one that's supposed to be the hot one, the big lipped one married to the doctor. I'm talking about the chick they always have running around with no bra on with tube tops and tank top shit on. Golden Showers, or something like that. Man, I ain't gonna lie, that chick is hot. I can't stand the other three, but that bouncy one kills me all the time. I think I wanna secretly, on some psychic wave shit, impregnant her, like that dude did with that Sheryl Crow chick.

Yeah. I know I lost all credibility there at the end. But I can't help it. I'm sick.

Nuthin'

2004-12-02T05:35:00.000-06:00

Check out the 2004 Weblog Awards starting sometime tonight. Of course no one from these parts were nominated.
Filthy bastards!

Remember when your mama used to try to make you believe that that same crappy hamburger she made at home was comparable to a Big Mac. Yeah. I know Eddie Murphy did this shit first. Just that I went to McDonald's recently. And I couldn't believe how crappy the food tasted. Was a Big Mac always this filthy nasty, with that vomit tasting special sauce on it. I mean, that burger made me wanna puke. These two dry patties with cheese and stale nasty bread with that god awful sauce. That's toilet food for me. No wonder I crapped it out two hours later. And that Big N Tasty ain't much better. Only thing that made it bearable was that cheese they put on it. Trust me. Cheese makes everything taste better.

I normally would go on a tangent about cheese right here, but I won't. Because I just don't feel like it. I like cheese, but I really don't feel like talking about it. I pretty much put cheese on everything, except maybe fries. I don't put anything on fries, not even ketchup. Why do some people spell ketchup, C-A-T-S-U-P. I always wondered that. Is it a different product than ketchup. It might be. I don't know. Anyway.

I had a frozen pizza recently. And man did that suck, too. It was this greasy nasty buttery thing on hard rock dough. It was filthy, too. Same goes for hot dogs, all kinds, and hot pockets. I had a cheese steak hot pocket and that shit tasted like bile in pig fat. This was some nasty shit. Unfortunately, I had to have three or four more of those things before I could figure that out.

What the hell is wrong with fast food these days. It used to be that you could stop off at that burger joint and get something decent. These days, nothing these franchise boys sell is comparable. Or maybe it never was. Maybe I just didn't know what good food tasted like when I was younger. Maybe I had to grow up to figure out what I had been eating all along was crap.

New Download:

Playboy had a nice article about original comic book art. You can download a zipped version of it here. They're jpegs, and you might have to hit the zoom to read the text. Or rename the zips to cbz and read them with CDisplay.

A High Pressure

2004-11-29T06:16:00.000-06:00

I love it when hot chicks do the weather. It makes the weather so much more important. The same goes for traffic. If you have a hot chick in front of that blue screen, that tells the audience that what's going up on that television deserves their utmost attention. It's like hearing that weird annoying emergency broadcast signal. Hot chick = Real Must See Television.

Now the chicks that do the weather and traffic don't have to be hot, but they do have to be cute. No one wants to see an ugly chick do the weather or the traffic. I always wondered why the national morning shows don't have hot chicks doing the weather. They tend to use the position to fill their negro quota. Hey, we don't have a black person anywhere else on the show. Let's have them do weather. America won't mind.

For a while there, they were picking big fat black dudes. Then, CBS bucked the trend and hired annoying ass Dave Price. People that know Dave Price, know Dave Price. And we wish we didn't. Because he's evil. And annoying. And no where near funny. I think he used to be fat, too.

I wouldn't mind if the national news people did a Univision and put a hot ass super mama on the television for the sake of the continued importance of the national weather reports, something that no one really watches, unless there's a hot chick on the screen. I say, if you want the national weather reports to be taken seriously, the network should think about investing in a supermodel, or something like that. Give the job to Tyra Banks, or that annoying big breasted German chick, or one of those skinny broads. Maybe have them do the weather in bathing suits and mini-skirts. And if they really wanted to go all out, hire a former Playboy model, a porn actress, or a stripper. If they did that, I know I'd watch.

Go spanish and get a well known hot weather mama like Jackie Guerredo. If you haven't seen Despierta America, you should, if only for the hot mamas on screen. They have the standard button up news chick, and the perky blond chick, and the sultry dark haired one, and Jackie. They couple them with a goofy guy and a fat guy, I suppose so no one gets the idea that the show ain't all about the women. Which I never forget.

Spanish television tends to do that a lot, couple really hot chicks with really old ugly dudes. There's this one show that comes on late at night where this really fat old dude is with this really greasy Latin dude, and they hang out with these two cute ass hot mamas and this former sultry novella chick. Only problem is that the fat old dude and the greasy dude get more air time and talk time than the three hot chicks. And I find that disgusting.

Outside of shit like that, the spanish never loose sight of the real reason these shows exist, you know that thing they call ratings. Unfortunately, our news women are too respectable for showing some cleavage and a lot of leg. They tend to keep the good parts covered. And they never over do the hot factor. Although I have seen that Chen chick vamp it up some in the looks department. I think she's about ready to go full on Hollywood. I can see her doing a talk show with no panties on, and maybe a game show.

Oh, wait. That's that other former news chick. I tend to get'em mixed up when they're not naked.

Future Side Link:
25 All-Time Greatest American Comic Book Covers

What Thanksgiving Means To Me.

2004-11-25T04:20:00.000-06:00

By Rollie Wilson
Edited By Me

I remember one Thanksgiving when I had to go to the emergency room after I had a little reaction to some stuff I had taken. They had Christmas music playing and all my friends were there, most of them trying to keep warm from the outside weather. My son even came down to pick me up. Apparently I had gotten sick from the mixing of some of my medicine with some chinese food I had acquired. This led to the doctors having to operate on me.

The next day they released me and stuck me with a ten thousand dollar bill. I was shocked. So, I asked my friend Jello to go with me, maybe buy me a couple of drinks. Because I was sad, and I didn't have any money for some crack.

So, we go to this bar, And there are all these men in there dancing and talking. Then one of the men walks up to me and tries to conversate with me. It was at that moment that I knew we were in a gay bar. So, me and Jello leave. What we didn't know is that a friend of my woman sees us going into there. And she goes back and tells my lady.

Now my lady thinks I'm gay. I tell her I'm not gay. It was just a mistake and me and Jello didn't know that it was a gay bar. But my woman thinks me and Jello have a thing going on the side. Of course this is far from the truth. I could never mess with Jello. Or any other man for that fact. Sure, I've sucked some dick for some crack. But that's different.

So, any way, I spend the entire night trying to convince her. And I'm tired, because the other day I had just had surgery. So, I leave. Now I'm out on the street. And all of a sudden a police car comes blowing up beside me. They say, Get down on the ground, nigga! So, I get on the ground. They say, You lool like this man we know. I tell the officers that I couldn't be this person because I was just in a gay bar and had surgery the other day. They pick me up off the ground and tell me to stay out of trouble. So, I walk away.

I meet this other lady I'm fooling with. We go get some medicine. And she's looking at me funny. I guess I would be too, looking at me funny, that is. Because I was happy and smiling. I was in a cheerful mood. See, a couple of days earlier, I had come into some money. And I knew I planned to celebrate with it. So, I had some money on me. And I knew what I was going to do with it.

Only thing is, while I was taking my other lady to the spot so we could celebrate, I witnessed some shady things going down. I saw two young cats breaking in this big time cats house. They were pulling out tvs and vcrs and jewelry. I asked if I could get a tv. And since it was the beginning of the holiday spirit, they gave me a 30 inch color television.

First, I think I could get some crack for this tv. But then I changed my mind, because I needed a place to sleep, and this tv was my ticket to getting it. So, I went back to my first lady's house with the television, and some crack. And she let me back in. We watched Hawaii 5-0 and the Jefferson. We drank a little Crown Royal mixed with Coke, the beverage not the crack rock. Then we watched some more television. And we smoked some weed. Then we smoked some crack. And then we made love, all as the snow came down outside.

So I guess that's what Thanksgiving means to me, being with family, the ones you love, and some special friends with food to eat, and some other stuff.

Happy Thanksgiving!

It Rhymes With Tuck N Nip

2004-11-24T03:41:00.000-06:00

I've been sitting around contemplating about that whole Gary Sheffield-wife thing, how some preacher dude had a tape with Sheffield's wife on it having sex with pissmaster R. Kelly. He was blackmailing Sheffield, telling Sheffield if he didn't pay him 20,000 dollars, he would release the tape to the public. Sheffield refused and reported his ass to the authorities, and they did a sting on the preacher.

Sheffield, after knowledge of the tape was released, told the news people that he still plans on sticking with his wife, even with the prospects of this tape possibly reaching the public. Who knows what freaky shit Kelly might be doing to Sheffield's wife on the tape. We know Kelly likes to piss and shit on women. One can only imagine what bodily fluids Kelly sprayed on Sheffield's wife when the tape was made.

I wonder if I'd be able to stick it out with my woman if I suddenly found out she had done some freaky shit with a brother like R. Kelly? There's a part of me that thinks that I would have to leave her, walk away from it all. Then, there's another part of me that hopes that I would be able to stick it out. But I doubt it. I'm a dumbass.

You know that shit in that film, Clerks, where ol boy finds out that his girl was a major league dick sucker for most of her bleeding life, and that she may have sucked every male dick in high school and college, including the dick of one of the filthiest brothers around who liked when chicks spit his shit back in his mouth after he came in theirs. I got a friend like that, a really filthy ass bastard that always has ol' fucked up chicks around him.

He loves telling us about the beyotches that like to open his legs and go crazy on his balls. He's one of these dudes who always got a story of a nasty ass chick who loves to do nothing but eat his ass out. Most of that shit is bullshit. But every once in awhile he always has a girl around who you know does filthy shit like that, like that Chasing Amy chick, a chick you know from reputable sources has done threesomes and weird anal-facial shit. When he has a chick like that following him around it sort of negates the bullshit sex stories he likes to tell because you know he's doing half that freaky shit with her.

Every once in awhile he'll have him a halfway decent looking girl by his side, a girl you wonder about, like if she has mental problems or something, a chick who seems halfway decent that she must be fucked up under the hood to be fuckin' with a filthy bastard like my man. I always wonder about these chicks, about how they'll have to live down letting this nasty pig bastard get over on'em, how they'll have to keep this one fucked up relationship under wraps for the the rest of their fuckin' lives.

I wonder what would happen in ten years if I met one of these chicks, cleaned up and all, with her husband. And I pulled out a picture of my old friend and told her man about all the crazy ass shit she used to do with my homie, pointing to a picture of my filthy, nasty, dirty ass homie, with shit on his shirt, digging in his nose, laughing out loud with food in his mouth. I wonder if my man would stay. I doubt it. No man wants the vision of his woman fuckin another man, let alone some ass wipe dude six degrees from living under a highway pass.

I think most chicks have shit like that in the past. I have a cousin, no fuckin' job, has babies every fuckin' where, lives with his mama, lives off his chicks, and he keeps getting these church chicks to give it up to him. It's weird shit, because these chicks seem like upstanding women, who have jobs, and go to school, and they usually have no children, at least until he comes into their lives. He eventually knocks'em up and breaks the hell out, and finds another chick to replace her. And I swear I don't get what the fuck is going on. Because we ain't talking about Taye Diggs here. We're talking about a boney ass, Ethopian looking brother. But I guess that's what they call game.

Unfortunately, these chicks are fucked for life like that Scarlett Letter chick. Even if no one can see the big ass A on the chest, all her old friends know it exists. These chicks are marred for life, and it ain't a goddamn thing they can do about it. They just gotta suck that shit up, like they did that dick so many years ago.

(Yeah. I know. That's bad.)

(And if my boy ever reads this shit, just remember I ain't talking about you. I'm talking about somebody else. You know who I'm talking about. But it's not you.)

Chicago man accused of using decade-old video for extortion.
Never Had Tape

Mosley knew about two different tapes in which DeLeon can be seen having sex with Kelly, who dated the gospel star when she was a teen, said the pal who wouldn't give his name.

One was the old tape known as "R. Kelly Triple X." The second was part of a "master tape" featuring numerous encounters, one showing "DeLeon, Kelly and Kelly's wife" having sex, the pal said.

Other sources said several friends of Kelly's had seen the three-way scene but they declined to say whether the third woman was Kelly's wife, Andrea Lee, or his late ex, singing star Aaliyah.

Tomorrow: Special Guest Post By Crackhead Rollie on What Thanksgiving Really Means.

Beyotch Slap The Audience

2004-11-23T05:17:00.000-06:00

Damn. I feel for my man Ron Artest. I know that's a minority opinion, but I still feel for him. He didn't deserve the drama that went down in Detroit.

Well, maybe he did. I mean, he is an asshole. And he did want a couple of months off so he could complete and promote his rap album. He's a hot head on the court. And I don't think he likes babies. Or little kittens. Or white people. He really hates white people, especially if they're babies, and really especially if they're white baby kittens. I think I remember him kicking a white baby once. Or maybe that was just one of my dreams. Who know, maybe I'm the one that wouldn't mind drop kicking a couple of white babies. Who can tell.

So, my man Artest, chillin, goofing off at the announce table, minding his own damn business. And all of a sudden some drunk ass bastard throws a nice tasty beverage on him. And what happens next is understandable, because none of the drink happened to reach his mouth. He was never able to taste that nice frosty cold one, and a person needs a nice frosty one after a couple of hours of running back and forth on the court. Not that I would know. I haven't ran back and forth, or forward and back, or a couple of feet in front of me since I was 12. Fuck running when you can walk, and you got a car, and there's public transportation. I'm the kind of bastard who'll jump in the car to go see a friend a corner away. I'll jump on a bus I see coming just to go a block downwards. I'm lazy like that.

Anyway, when Artest gets beer mostly on his body, and not in his mouth, he goes berserk in a nice crackhead Rollie rage and races upward in the direction the drink came from, and asks the dude nicely if it was him who threw the drink, and if he was really trying to aim for his mouth, and by mistake, missed, and it hit his body. The man goes beyotch and shakes and pisses on himself and denies he even exists. And Artest starts beating the shit outta the dude. And who can blame him. I would have beat the man's ass myself, so to speak.

There are several things you don't do to a man: you don't spit on him, you don't punch or kick him, and you don't throw wet shit like beer and wine on him. Sorry people, but that's grounds for an ass-kicking. People been watching too many movies, people pouring drinks over each other's heads, and slapping each other. This ain't the 40s or the Three Stooges or an episode of Dallas. This is the real world. In the real world, all that crazy drunkin' shit ends with a foot in the ass.

People think if they're up in the stands, they're immune to an ass-whupping. People spit on players at football games. They jump out of the stands and onto the playing field in baseball. And now dumb ass fans are throwing drinks on players in basketball. And these asshole expect that no one has the right to react to that shit? I'm sorry. Fuck you. I'm glad Artest went up there and started whupping ass. That'll stop the next drunkin' asshole from thinking of even doing that shit. Now he knows big ass black dudes will come up those steps and fuck that bloated ass up.

And it won't be in an Elton John, late night candlelight, sweet lovin' kind of way either.

Assholes.

Yep

2004-11-21T19:11:00.000-06:00

One lazy ass post. I ain't even saying shit. But I will leave you with something. Don't say I ain't ever gave you shit. Except for maybe that chick back in high school who gave,... Forget it. That's a story for another time.

Figure it out and get it. Only up until I post again, which will be in about a day or two.

If you like the food, you'll love the Srevotfel.

2004-11-20T13:07:00.000-06:00

Almost six months have passed. And I haven't changed my blog template.

I'm fuckin' tired.

It ain't perfect, but it's a start.

I'll finish it whenever.

Fuck it.