i digress.

and if you don't know, now you knowwwwwwwww.

2010-06-18T09:19:00.001-07:00

relapse.

2009-05-15T22:22:00.011-07:00

Once upon a dream, in a land not so far away, and a time much closer than I care to admit, I hit up my loving co-inhabitant Beezy B about reviewing The-Dream’s seminal “Love Vs. Money” for our next collab review.. needless to say, she brutally rebuffed said notion.. and try as I may countless times thereafter, I was met with the same stubborn mule kick to my pride.. not wanting Darius “The-Dream” Nash to suffer the same fate as Edgar Allen Poe, a man who’s brilliance wasn’t appreciated until he had long been using his rib cage as a buffet table for maggots, I took it upon myself to carry the torch alone, and share his brand of joy, praise, and sonic gospel with the rest of you.. consider yourself blessed..

Fortunately enough for you, I broke it up into two parts.. 14 tracks, 14 testaments of truth, spirituality, and fornication.. The-Dream isn’t a musician, and he's much bigger than any movement... he’s a religion.

Now let us come before him in reverence and pray.. bow your head, nigga.

1. Love Vs. Money Intro – I can’t tell who’s on top, but yo.. is that Optimus Prime fucking a Honda Accord?

2. Rockin’ That Shit – Contrary to popular belief, I’ve been a sucka for love ass nigga my entire life.. that said, I find absolutely nothing wrong with a song about a chick so bad, you fall in love with her body on sight.. hell, I felt the exact same way about Mo’nique when I saw her shakin’ it up to Beyonce’s “Crazy In Love” at the ’07 BET Awards.. that shit had me so hot and horny, I had to wipe the beads of sweat off my forehead with a ham sandwich.. All jokes aside, I wonder if that hook could actually work as a pickup line? “Girl, I’m in love with you, baby / And I want you to know / That I’m hooked on your body / And I’m tryin’ to be yours” .. How could anybody with two breasts and a pulse NOT wanna fuck me after having that cooed into their ear canal? The-Dream is a hopeless romantic trapped in the husk of a tone deaf nigger named Darius….. believe.

3. Walkin’ On The Moon – If I were to hit up Vegas, and was asked to place a million dollar wager on what Perez Hilton's alarm clock sounds like, I’d be a rich muhfucka.. Why? Cuz I wouldn’t even need to ask Regis for a lifeline.. “Nigga, that shit GOTTA sound like the beat on ‘Walkin’ On The Moon!”.. you gotdamn right.. this shit is knocks, but I’d be lying my ass off if I didn’t admit my fingers get possessed by The Ghost of Freddie Mercury, and try their damndest to snap in intricate Z-formations.. that said, when The-Dream isn’t wasting his time butchering the high notes, Kanye sounds quite at home over this beat.. Dare I ask why? Bravo, Darius.. The Ambiguously Gay Duo would be quite proud..

4. My Love – You know, back when we still weren’t sure if we were supposed to claim Mariah or not, she was (keyword being was) the truth.. “Vision of Love”, “Someday”, “Emotions”, “Dream Lover”.. all that shit knocked.. but once she revealed to the world that she too fine dined on fried chicken and watermelon, and had a mortal fear of swimming, it’s been a crap shoot since.. I also find it ironic she somehow forgot how to really sing around that time as well, and much like marriage, it’s only gotten worse with time.. now all she does is get naked, dry hump couches and cars, and do that whisper crap every opportunity she gets.. Which, oh yeah, brings me to this “song”.. I swear to God, I’ve heard this “song” about 8,914,526 times already.. “Niggas hatin’ on us cuz we fuck like rabbits, make out in public, and fondle each other in church.. but got dammit, you’re my bitch and I love you, ho! Now let’s make a sex tape and leak it on Twitter!” This song is almost as wack as Nick Cannon’s “Wildin’ Out”.. yeah, fuck you too, Nicholas (no Marshall Mathers).

5. Put It Down – I know there’s a lot of fairytales and vastly exaggerated body counts in rap music, but I like my R&B as honest and straight forward as possible.. there is nothing remotely engrossing about a nigga dedicating five minutes and two seconds of his life to bragging on his dick, BEFORE conquering Puff The Magic Pussy Dragon.. for those out the loop, absolutely NOTHING good can come from bragging on your dick before beatin’ up the push bush.. why? Because expectations are reserved for those who want their feelings hurt.. “I’ma fuck the shit out you, baby! I’ma have you screaming so loud you’ll wake up your ancestors! I got that Eifel Tower right HERE! I’ll stamp your passport with these big ass balls, girl! Now get naked!” Nigga please.. that’s why I tell women about my four inches of fury before hand.. you can’t be disappointed if I already told your ass, right? Expectations, nigga!

6. Sweat It Out – “Girl, call Laticia, your beautician / Tell her your hair is gonna need fixin’”.. Oh hellllllll yes… is this the quintessential baby maker I hear?! I do believe so, Charlie Brown.. Darius channels his inner ~~pedophile~~ Robert Kelly on this one with astonishing results, warning his ~~underage teenager~~ groupie of choice that he’s gonna fuck the shit out of her so well, her perm will time travel and revert to its prior plantation status.. I envy you, Darius.. that’s quite a feat.. I myself have yet to do this.. I have however, accidentally spilled some of my baby batter on a woman’s fresh perm (see what happens when you lie about swallowing, ladies?) and got chased butt ass naked out her apartment while she brandished a Ginsu, but that’s a whole other blog, kiddies.. eloquent yet crass, brilliant yet moronic, off key yet somehow harmonious.. I wish I wrote this song my damn self:

“We trade affection, as I mess up her bangs,
Hair everywhere, all in her face,
Didn’t mean to mess up a good thing, but I needed you baby,
Don’t be mad at me, you should’ve got braids”

Incredible.

TO BE CONTINUED. . .

back on my bullshit.

2009-05-15T20:01:00.000-07:00

Nigga got the itch... stay tuned.

home sweet home.

2009-03-29T13:59:00.000-07:00

http://www.twitter.com/bozackjenkins

I initially shat upon the Twitter movement, but I've been goin' in lately.. alas, my nonsensical ramblings have a home.. one of these years I'll blog though..

n.e.s. are the letters that spell.

2009-03-23T23:15:00.003-07:00

This is the illest shit ever.

Fuck you if you think otherwise.. seriously.

Click the above pic, and prepare to be amazed.

not these niggas again.

2009-03-22T22:07:00.007-07:00

Once upon a dream, myself and my future ex-wife Beezy B reviewed Drake's classic mixtape (yeah, I said it) "So Far Gone" via Instant Messenger.. however, due to circumstances beyond my control, the review never saw the light of day.. would it suffer the same fate as Saigon's "Greatest Story Never Told"? Would it fade into oblivion like Karl Kani? Or would it just magically resurface, all fucked up, like Lil' Kim's top lip?

Regardless, the e-Streets were abuzz, and over time people would ask me repeatedly what the hell happened.. like, "Yo, what's the hold up, fam?".. and I was never able to provide them with a solid answer, since I honestly didn't know my damn self.. blaming it on Beezy's traumatic plastic surgery on her feet could only fight off the demand for so long.. it was beginning to look like the Lochness Monster had a better chance of making a red carpet entrance than the review did of seeing of the light of day.. Was Suge keeping it hostage in the Death Row vaults along with Dre's long lost heterosexuality?

But apparently dreams do come true, ladies and gentlemen.. because What's Her Face was kind enough to inform me today that the review has finally been granted parole.. so feel free to stop asking me about it, and peep it your damn self at her blog..

God bless America.

and now a word from our sponsor.

2009-03-21T21:28:00.004-07:00

I'm in a bad way.

I dunno what my malfunction is, but I've been on some ~~emo~~ other shit lately.. my skinny ass has barely been eating for months, I haven't been to the gym since The Trackmasters were relevant, I'm getting 3 or 4 hours of sleep a night at best, I'm working way too gotdamn much yet still somehow knocking out roughly 12-20 hours of volunteer work a week, I have next to no desire to kick it with any of my "friends"..

The hell is going on here?

My sister was here a week ago and concluded I was literally driving myself mad.. as much as I love to help others, I'm starting to feel that it's evolved from a gift I'm providing to my community into a burden disguised as a 9 to 5.. the disdain hasn't settled in yet, but I wouldn't be surprised if it reared its ugly head very soon.. which essentially makes me a hypocrite.. how the hell can I expect to help out so many other people if I can't even put a smile on my own damn face? Niggas keep beggin' me to get up on this Twitter shit, but I'd probably scare the free world if they spent 30 seconds in my mind, random thoughts or not.. consider my lack of attendance on that junt as a favor.. seriously..

Add the fact that my ~~"friends"~~ apparent associates have been nowhere to be found in the midst of all this bullshit, and I'm feelin' like Lily Allen's "Everything's Just Wonderful" is the soundtrack to my existance at this moment.. I spent my morning at a fundraiser for the Special Olympics and as soon as I left, I whipped out my phone to share how incredible the experience was, and although I had a phone full of contacts, I couldn't think of a single person to call..

Not exactly the best feeling.

This emo shit ain't a good look.. I think I need to move.. this desert heat is impairing my sanity.

she's chun li, & i'm ryu.

2009-03-18T23:15:00.002-07:00

Poor taste or not, this shit is gold, got dammit.. this nigga went clean the fuck in with this junt right here.. so many quotables.. like I was telling my sister the other day, you know you're in some deep shit when Oprah dedicates an hour of her show to parking her foot in your ass..

It was nice knowing you, Chris.. I hope your savings account is almost as mean as your right hook!

american idol.

2009-03-18T09:00:00.005-07:00

Simon, Randy, & MC Skat Kat's jumpoff got it all wrong.

Every year they sift and stumble through thousands of men, women, and transsexuals (fresh off The Real World set) in hopes of finding that one shimmering ray of hope.. that one golden voiced harlot (penis being optional, of course) with the superhuman ability to bamboozle millions of gullible customers into dropping 15 bones on the sonic equivalent of gerbel feces.. armed with his quick wit and scathing insults, Simon serves as the ring leader of the clique, single handedly slaying as many aspiring careers as humanly possibly, while leaving their exhausted tear ducts and self esteem in his wake.. meanwhile, his accomplice Randy diligently rides that ever present fine line, dropping trout and defecating on someone's emotional stability when needed, yet kind hearted enough to grab the pom poms and get his Claire Bennet on when necessary.. lastly, we have Paula.. how could such a dense, blithering idiot be trapped in the shell of such a beautiful woman? Her genuine kindness is outdone only by the lies she bestows upon the contestants, as she commonly heaps praise upon those grossly deficient in the vocal art of song.. is it safe to assume she does so because she can't sing her damn self?

But alas, they are going about this process all wrong.. a true American Idol isn't somebody with a 7 octave vocal range, yet can't even SPELL 7 octave vocal range (yeah, I went there).. a true American Idol isn't a black voice trapped in the body of a white man fresh out of "The Three Wishes Of Billy Grier".. no, a true American Idol personifies the American dream.. they embody all that this great nation is capable of.. so with that said, please allow me to give Randy, Simon, and Paula their walking papers so that I, through the power of Al Gore's greatest invention, can provide a shining example of what a TRUE American Idol is.. one our country can be proud of, and ride behind.. let freedom ring, got dammit!

Andre Romelle Young is the American dream.

This man's paperwork gangsta is unparrellel.. can you name anyone else who's had such an incredible career doing jack shit for a living?

He's a rapper who can't rap AND doesn't even write his own shit (how the fuck do you make a song dedicated to your dead brother and don't even put the pen to pad? Even Diddy would frown upon such insolence), he's a producer who doesn't even make his own beats, and he's a record label executive who doesn't even put material out (the last Aftermath release was in '06).. yet he's sittin' on more green than a lawnmower.. for those keeping track at home, that's three seperate sources of very lucritive income, that coincide with zero effort.. how the fuck can you not love this nigga?

I wake up every morning with envy in my heart, knowing that I have to wash my ass and go to work, while Dre, through God's gift of power of attorney, has somebody wake up for him, scrub the lint off his nuts, then go to work on his behalf.. Dre is so gangsta even his lungs are under contract.. "Breathe for a real nigga, I'll make you famous".. I bet the nigga doesn't even eat.. he's got goons who do it for him, then he cashes out the nutrients and vitamins at the bank.. real nigga shit ya'll know nothing about..

Plus the beauty of his success is everything about his life is fabricated.. how do you go from spinning records at roller rinks in rhinestone jackets and sequined gloves, to literally waking up the next morning and becomming the godfather of gangsta rap? What the fuck?

MC Hammer was dancing around in form fitted parachutes, put hits out on rappers for talking shit about him (don't believe me? Holla at Google), then WE ended his career cuz he wanted to throw on a beenie and bust a couple caps on record? Dre was on the got damn swim team in high school! How many gangsta ass niggas did YOU know in high school who spent their afternoons swimming in circles around a bunch of scandidly clad men? Everybody knows the real niggas either played ball or ran track in that bitch.. and if you were extra gully, you rocked with the school band like my black ass did..

But outside of all of that, I think Dre's biggest accomplishment is making it cool for rappers to still get on the mic after 40.. when I was coming up, it was unheard of to still be nice after 30, but between Camelback Hov & Dre, it's a new day, niggas.. for the record, Dre is damn near 50 years old ladies and gentlemen.. my childhood was spent watching Fresh Prince of Bel Air and slingin' GI Joes down the stair case.. his was spent dodging high pressure water hoses during his brisk strolls to school and having Calvin Coolidge autograph his yearbook.. this nigga probably had a pet Stegosaurus and shit..

But yet, he could drop a six song EP of somebody wiping their ass, take credit for it, put it out on iTunes tomorrow, and he'd be triple platinum by the end of the week.. that type of G is unheard of, and must be respected.. this nigga's entire career revolves around fucking bitches, busting guns, and riding around in expensive cars, but yet none of these things is unlike the others.. the nigga is married ('Pac commonly mistook his maritial bliss for homosexuality, that's why Dre killed his ass, or atleast took credit for it), he'd pull a hamstring before he'd even hold a trigger under consideration (shooting ranges & water pistols don't count), and if you think Dre is ever behind the wheel you're retarded.. did I not tell you already he's got niggas who got niggas who GOT niggas to drive for him?

I would KILL to see this nigga in his formitive years during Career Day.. coolin' out, rolling his eyes in the back of the classroom as his peers try to convince the rest of the class they're gonna be something when they grow up.. "I'm gonna be an astronaut!" "I'm gonna be a lawyer!" "I'm gonna be a pornstar!" Then Dre stands up, beaming with pride.. chest out, swagger on a million.. and proudly proclaims "I'm going to do jack shit for a living, and have more paper then all you niggas".. could you imagine the laughter that erupted from his peers? The look of genuine disdain from his teacher? I wonder which one of those present day burger flippers would gleefully trade their own offspring for a 5 mere minutes in the life of Andre.. well, I mean, if Dre didn't already take credit for their creation..

"Alright, readers! To vote Andre Romelle Young, call 1-866-385-7843.. that's 866-FUK-SUGE before the end of our telecast! Or AT&T mobile subscribers can't text "Check Your Sexuality, It's Fruity As This Alize" to 77413! Standard text message rates are applicable! Stay tuned for tomorrow, where our next contestant is quite a man about the town.. ladies love him, girls adore him.. yes, that's right! The notorious Kevin Federline will be with us tomorrow, readers! Stay turned!"

extra venom, hold the spider-man.

2009-03-18T06:55:00.012-07:00

Disclaimer: Should you know me on a personal level and find yourself offended by the following, do us both a favor & give yourself a round of applause.. I'm on my naked D'Angelo shit right now.. "How does it feeeeeel??"

My apologies to all 3 of my readers for barely goin' in on here as of late.. my OG MySpace heads know I used to put it down about 3 to 4 times a week, so I'm definitely slippin'.. but I was thoughtful enough to bring my latest, DJ Drama-endorsed bitchfest to the masses (this is an exclusive, ya'll! Mr. Thanksgiving!), so let us bow our heads and give thanks..

I was having a discussion with my sister the other day concerning her wedding, when it somehow segued into the remote possibility of my very own, should the opposite gender collectively decide to get their act together and stop wasting my time with their frivolous bullshit (yes, I'm jaded.. thanks for asking!).. she asked who I'd pick as my best man, and much to her surprise, I was unable to provide her with an immediate answer.. she then casually asked why not just pick my best friend, to which I curtly responded that last time I checked, I was never given the keys to one of those.. she then proceeded to look at me like I just shit in her oatmeal..

I've come to notice that my views on friendship are much different than others; possibly because of how I was raised.. my sister and my Moms are the only family members I have.. I have no contact whatsoever with my father (that would require a blog in and of itself), no cousins, no uncles, no grandparents.. I don't have jack shit in regards to family.. the concept of a family reunion or swingin' by my aunt's crib for some Sunday nigger vittles is completely foreign to me.. so maybe it's because of that type of upbringing I don't pursue the sanctity of friendship as much as others, since I'm used to rollin' with such a small, dilapidated circle of miscreants..

So although I've never been someone who has hordes of "friends" (never forget, there is a clear distinction between associates and friends), the ones I do have, I hold very near and dear to my heart.. which is why I take it very much to heart when they change up and start acting brand new, which thus far, is the theme for 2009.. what exactly is opening up the flood gates & inundating the streets with bitchassness, you might ask?

Girlfriends, boyfriends, or whatever the fuck they're sharing their neither region secretions with.

It's only March and this shit is already tired.

I understand people come into our lives, and love has a tendancy to change things just a tad (actually no I don't) .. ok, I get that.. but what I don't understand is why (or how) people will completely disregard their friends just because they found a woman that will toss their salad to their hearts content.. that shit is just really wack to me.. since when was her tongue in your asshole more important than our frienship? For God knows how long we chopped it up damn near daily, but now that you've found some dude that will suck the paint off your toe nails, I don't exist? The fuck? I understand hearing from said offenders less, but these niggas literally pull a Harry Houdini.. sorry, I can't, won't, and DON'T respect that shit.. then when you call them on it, they either blow you off for being "crazy", or get all defensive..

I'm a forgiver, but I'd be lying my ass off if I said that shit doesn't hurt my feelings and paint these fuck niggas in a different light.. I'm a sensitive nigga, got dammit! I watch Lifetime and cry like a baby at the end of "The Notebook".. I sing Boyz II Men ballads into my showerhead, and I whistle Michael Bolton while I pump my gas.. see what these wack ass friends are doing to a thug ass nigga of my caliber?!

So knowing "friends" have such a tendancy to turn heel, I grown quite adept at dodging these Lil' Cease ass niggas like Amy Winehouse does her daily hygeine regimen.. I can't name a single friend I've had for more than 5 years, which is some gut wrenching, uber sad, deplorable shit, and I've been backstabbed and fucked over by more people DJ Quik.. so yes, this is why I ~~try not to~~ don't put much into friendship, cuz the same niggas that swear up and down they are down for you, are the same ones that will magically transform into figments of my imagination as soon as they find a woman who can burp louder than they can..

"Hoes Before Bros" is the mantra that I cry.. YOU SISSIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEES

Sidenote: "Born Like This" sucks.. fuck you in your tarnished eye socket for this pile of horse shit, Doom.

but I was turned on by her tubberware titties.

2009-03-12T22:37:00.003-07:00

Real talk, who lied to this nigga on Career Day?

Ol' boy looks focused though.. he'll be got damned if he'll leave the state fair without at least one fried twinkie.. the illest shit is dude ran a fucking 5.21 and still beat his metabolism by about 2 hours..

twins (pt. 2).

2009-03-10T12:37:00.003-07:00

“Why won’t you just do us both a favor & fucking die already?”

I suppose that’s not the most polite way to tell yourself good morning, but after God knows how many months of this Groundhog Day bullshit, proper etiquette has long ago gone South for the winter.. most people wake up to morning breath and a lovely wife cooking them bacon and eggs.. Me? I wake up to my fucking self.. breathing silently into God knows how many tubes.. I used to actually find the shit moderately amusing, but that was once upon a dream when I still considered myself sane.. but by about now, I literally don’t know who I am anymore..

The accident was supposed to be the Kevin Garnett to my lowly Boston franchise.. the Park Place to my Monopoly, but instead it ended up being my Get Out of Jail Free card..

I’m supposed to be dead.

But thanks to the diligent efforts of a medical crew who became instant celebrities after bringing me back from the cool, almost motherly embrace of death, I’m alive.. well, no.. he’s alive.. and my fucking ass is stuck here until he’s kind enough to take it upon himself to die..

Purgatory (pur⋅ga⋅to⋅ry) [pur-guh-tawr-ee, -tohr-ee] – Any condition or place of temporary punishment, suffering, expiation, or the like.

Yeah, that sounds about right.

At first I thought I was trapped in a bad dream.. it didn’t initially qualify as a nightmare per se, but I suppose that went South for the winter with my etiquette.. I really gotta stop watching so much TV, but when you’re stuck in a hospital room with yourself, one of which is clinically brain dead, what the hell else is going to keep me entertained? That hot nurse has been gone for months now, and my “family” stopped coming around a couple weeks after they were kind enough to sentence me to life support..

So it’s just me and my “twin”.

Our routine is down to a science by about now.. wake up yet again in the same hard ass chair, wait for my "nurse" to walk in and pretend to give a shit about me, then I present my case yet again to myself.. they usually keep the channel on CourtTV or something, so I’ve gotten pretty good with my presentation.. problem is, all that lawyer crap doesn’t work.. won’t work now, didn’t work when I was alive..

The bible says suicide is a sin, but considering how many times I stepped to the plate and struck out, you’d think God would show me some mercy.. but no, he was kind enough to hand toss me into a car accident (while I was still on my date, fuck you very much), kill me on the scene, pull a Lazarus and magically bring me back to the land of the living, THEN sentence me to no brain activity until someone is kind enough to pull the plug, which even my pussy ass family didn’t have the balls to do (fuck you very much as well).. so every morning I skip the bacon & eggs, and we do the dance..

God, I miss morning sex.

“Is this how you wanna live, Doug? Fucking die already, shit! If you wanna lay in a hospital bed for the rest of your fucking life, why can’t you just do us both a favor and die first? Maybe you missed the memo, but you’re fucking brain dead! You are not coming back to life! You’re a vegetable! Give it up already so I can get the fuck out of here and you can go feed some damn maggots!"

“Nobody gives a shit about you! Mom hasn’t been by in how many months, Doug? When’s the last time you saw Reggie or Pete? Oh, that’s right, you haven’t.. what great best friends you picked, you fucking loser.. the damn doctors don’t even want you here anymore! The nurses stopped washing your ass how long ago? And you think I wanna spend the rest of eternity, trapped in this fucking room with you, sitting by watching this shit!? Even the damn cancer that got us in this mess abandoned your ass! What the fuck do you have to live for? Answer me, motherfucker! Why won’t you just give up?!”

My fists slam into the table next to you for emphasis, but there’s not a single sound.

I kick the door in frustration, but find myself on the receiving end of the same result.

I swear to God, if I could pick up that vase of dead flowers next to you, I would smash it against your fucking skull.

But I can’t.

So I sit back down, concede defeat, bury my face in my hands, and spend the rest of the day crying.. but coincidentally enough, a situation like this tends to warp your perception of time.. days, weeks, months.. what's the fucking difference?

Try as I may to convince you to concede, I'm the one already trapped in a coffin.

TO BE CONTINUED. . .

twins.

2009-03-08T18:57:00.008-07:00

Today was the greatest day of my life.

Six passengers, three cars, two lanes, one highway, and no insurance.

To this day, I still don’t even remember how it happened.. all I know is, when either the smoke or rain (I’m still not sure which) was kind enough to wake me up, my beautiful Accord was reluctantly sandwiched between a Cadillac and a Range Rover.. I’m actually surprised I could even remember that, since everything else was a fucking blur right about then.. it’s actually kinda funny to me.. I’ve read several articles about people being completely oblivious to colors as they fight for their lives.. I don’t know what the correlation is between dying and going colorblind, but as my endorphins were certainly at war for my own life, I definitely saw colors..

Actually no, I only remember one.. it was red, and it was everywhere.

All over my hands.. my legs.. the steering wheel? Yeah, that was definitely red.. what was left of my windshield.. the air bag next to me, and the passenger unfortunate enough to be unconscious behind it.. she was a beautiful girl, but what can I say? My dates never seemed to end well.. she was covered in it too.. I could even taste it.. apparently colors are more adept at manipulating our senses than even I realized.. but it was everywhere.. I could feel it seeping into my lungs at a measured pace.. abstract and imperfect, free.. even the smile that peeked from between my lips shared the same gorgeous shade of crimson..

And as much joy as it gave me, it was nothing compared to the anticipation of what was coming.. relief warmed over me almost as quickly as that beautiful wave of red did.. the pain dancing up and down my nerve endings was a welcomed addition as well.. this was it, and I could barely contain my excitement.. I had waited weeks, months for this very day.. and finally, by the grace of God, it had arrived..

There wasn’t a day that went by where somebody wouldn’t ask me, “What does cancer feel like?” And as many times as I heard that question, I could never administer an answer I could truly put my belief behind.. was there even a definitive response? Sure, I could share with them the joys of chemotherapy.. the nausea, the weight loss.. the many nights I was lucky enough to flush bloody toilet paper.. and of course, being 25 and bald was good times.. but damn.. what DOES cancer feel like?

What’s fucking hysterical to me was for as many months as I marinated on that question, the answer didn’t come to me until my face was parallel parked in my windshield as I drifted in and out of consciousness.

Imagine going through life as usual, then one day stumbling upon a book with the power of precognition.. as you flip through its pages, you quickly discover that this isn’t a regular novel, but this is in fact, your life.. you skip about the pages, grinning ear to ear as you stumble upon your first kiss or your lovely bride at your wedding reception.. but curiosity gets the best of you, so you skip towards the pages in the back in order to get a sneak peek at your unborn son, or maybe the world itself in the distant future.. but much to your surprise, the pages aren’t blank, nor red; they’re black.. and every time you frantically turn back the pages to try to find out how hot your prom date was, or what you got on your SAT’s, that page goes black too.. a whole lifetime spent on a story that no matter how hard you try to cue up Microsoft Word and change the ending, you can’t..

That’s cancer.

And this? The internal bleeding? The blunt trauma and multiple skull fractures? The beautiful, red silence? Is bliss.

Morbid? That’s debatable.. but what you have to understand is that this was the day that God finally decided to rid me of this unspeakable burden.. the same burden I didn’t have the balls to absolve by my own means.. the pills only earned me a couple hundred more dollars in medical debt & the indigestion from hell, and too much TV led to me slitting my wrists the wrong way and looking like an idiot to my mother.. I didn’t have the balls to hang myself, nor Chris Benoit to do it for me, or the brains to pull a Will Smith in “Seven Pounds”.. so after months of failed attempts, God just so happens to place me on the freeway on a rainy, Saturday night? He couldn’t wait until AFTER I dropped my date off?

That’s irony.

But I suppose I had carried the cross for too long.. I would stop bitching and be grateful, but dying is never as easy as it looks in movies.. especially when the paramedics show up in record time.

Even God couldn’t fucking kill me right.

TO BE CONTINUED. . .

seriously.

2009-03-06T19:04:00.003-07:00

As bad as this week has been, the Lord could've been kind enough to keep today to himself.

I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but I’m starting to have doubts about my choice of career path.. as heavenly as the highs are, the lows are on an entirely different level.. getting blindsided by another’s bad choice is one thing, but the strain of guilt and regret is just too much to bear sometimes.. frankly, I’m beginning to seriously wonder if I still have the cajones for this type of shit anymore..

Enter Her.

Roughly 6 months ago She and I met.. She was our newest client at job #2.. no, not the social work gig, the one where I’m the team lead for a detention alternative program.. in laymen’ s terms, that means I run a program that’s commissioned by the state to transition juvenile offenders back into The Real World, sans MTV.. we legally kidnap them for a couple months, clean their heads up, draw a smiley face on them, and when the courts give us the thumbs up, we kick them in the ass and send them on their merry way..

But She was different.

As much as it sometimes pains me to admit, & as often as I lie to their faces and tell them otherwise, most kids ensnared in The System don’t have shit going for them.. they come from terrible home environments, they’re unmotivated, etc.. but as I already said, She was different.. I knew it from the moment I saw Her.. bad attitude and reluctance to be my newest pet project aside, She had a certain aura about Her that I had never experienced before in someone Her age.. She often checked her peers on following their own treatment, She always had her head up high, She was actually about something..

As the time went by, I was privileged enough to spend many an hour dancing around in Her head.. Her story wasn’t much different than most of the others.. Her father was physically abusive, and after years of being on the receiving end, she erupted after coming home and finding Her mother beaten and bruised.. She picked up a bat, swung on him, missed, and put a hole in the wall.. out of fear, Her little brother called the police.. when the police came, Her father claimed She not only attempted to take his life, but beat Her own mother as well.. out of fear for her own life, Her mother co-signed his bullshit story.. cue the cuffs, assault charges, and yet another kid unjustifiably thrown in The System..

As if this story wasn’t fucked up enough, She was an All-State basketball player, with God knows how many D1 schools on her ass 24/7, foaming at the mouth to give Her a full ride.. only reason I know this is I saw Her gigantic stack of hand written letters from coaches my damn self.. basketball was Her entire life, and Her dream was to play for Pat Summit (who sent one of said letters) one day..

Unfortunately, with those kind of charges on your record, most of those schools withdrew their full rides.

But as I said before, She was different.

The only thing in the world that meant more to Her than basketball was Her girlfriend.. She talked about her all the time, and kept her picture on Her person at all times.. but Her parents were anything but fans of this particular young lady, and felt that She was a deterrent.. So they imposed a restraining order against the girlfriend until She was 18.. considering that was roughly 2 years away, She was devastated.. so much so, She sought legal council to get legally emancipated from Her parents.. being away from home was hard enough, but without any contact from Her girlfriend, She was broken..

She asked me if I would go to her emancipation hearing with Her.. She stated She needed the support, because if She lost the case, She “wouldn’t have a reason to live anymore”..

I obliged.. problem is, I never made it to court.

I had an emergency at Job #1, and couldn’t get to court in time.. by the time I could, I called Her therapist to tell Her I was on my way, and she said it was too late.. She lost the case, and was still under the legal guardianship of her parents.. She would never be legally permitted to talk to her girlfriend again until She was 18..

She was placed on suicide watch the same night.

She didn’t talk to me for almost a month, and every time I tried, She would turn her head and start crying.

A couple weeks later I had a really nasty sinus infection, and missed about a week and a half of work.. considering I almost never miss work (at either of my jobs), most of the kids there began spreading rumors that I had “ditched them” and quit.. one of which was Her, who apparently didn’t take it very well, even though She hadn’t said a word to me in God knows how long anyway..

The day before I came back She ran away.

Between the results of the emancipation hearing (which I discovered later that Her parents were trying to guilt Her into retracting, by stating that the stress of it had given Her mother cancer), not being able to talk to the one person in the entire world that She actually needed to, and me supposedly “ditching Her”, She decided to take matters into Her own hands and leave.. I couldn’t believe it when I heard about it after returning the very next day, and all the other kids and staff could tell me was how upset She was at me.. my staff informed me that they had repeatedly told her that I would be back and that I was just out sick, but apparently She thought they were lying to cover for me, since I was out so long..

Fast forward several months, and we never hear a word about Her whereabouts.

Fast forward to today and we learned that her own father was kind enough to have taken Her life late last night.

I would go into explicit detail as to how and why they believe he did it, but I assure you, you really do not want to know.

All I know is I’m growing more and more tired of waking up every morning and having to be reminded first hand as to why this world is such a fucked up place.

Seriously.

waiting to exhale.

2009-02-28T19:51:00.007-07:00

Alas, my prayers have been answered.

Although our time together is always breif, due to your handler's ineptitude in appreciating the euphoria you bring to my taste buds; as I have always done in the past, our moments together shall be cherished forever more..

Jesus really is my homeboy.

Little known music history fact: Contrary to urban legend, Minnie Ripperton's timeless classic "Loving You" wasn't inspired by a melody Minnie would frequently use to distract her daughter Maya.. co-writer Richard Rudolph confirmed the following:

"Everytime I used to come home from work, Minnie would be in the bathroom taking a shit.. not those brisk, white people shits, but those overweight, fat Mexican shits.. baby girl used to drop some Grade A Professor Klumps in that bitch, if you know what I mean.. used to fuck the plumbing alllllllll up.. even the water in the shower would come out crooked.. lookin' like Michael Jackson in the 'Smooth Criminal' video.. but anyway, one day I ask that woman.. I say 'Woman, why are you always in my bathroom taking a shit?' And you know what she said to me? 'Cuz I ate a McRib, Richard'.. I'd look at her dead in the eye and say, 'Woman, as much as you catch the holy ghost on my toilet bowl, you sure as hell must love those things'.. and you know what she said? Nothing.. she just smiled, started humming to herself, and sat down by the piano.. and then and there, 'Loving You' was born.."

When I am finally fortunate enough to find a woman stupid enough to walk down that aisle with me, I have no intentions of exchanging vows; we're swapping McRibs..

Fuck America, God bless you McDonalds.

signed, sealed, delivered.

2009-02-27T07:18:00.015-07:00

Dearest Stevland Hardaway Judkins,

You are that nigga, twice.

If fact, you are the alpha nigga that all of the rest of us inferior, mortal niggas aspire to be like.. (well, outside of the whole walking into walls cuz you're blind thing.. I'm assuming you probably fuck the ugly groupies too, huh?).. your name is synonymous with the type of success even Kanye would've sniped his own mother for.. you have more hit records than I have years on planet Earth.. you have the adulation of millions of people, and have single handledly influenced more pregnancies than Shawn Kemp.. you have attainted a level of sonic diety that will never be duplicated by man, woman, or Milli Vanilli..

If Juelz Santana is truly the embodiment of crack in the flesh (AYE!), then you, Stevland (AYE!), are the human embodiment of God himself..

You didn't create the world in seven days, but you were the architect behind music that will survive just as long as the very planet it was created on..

Take a bow, Mr. Judkins.. You truly are that nigga twice.

But alas, even God's fall from grace, and on those rare occasions, are capable of discovering fault within themselves.. imperfection is the curse of man that tragically, some God's are unable to abstain from.. and since I'm unable to leave this task to the mirrors in your home due to your loss of functional vision, I will take it upon myself to share with you the truth..

The charade must end, dearest Stevland.. it's time.

You see (actually no you don't, my bad), your lack of sight leaves you at the mercy of your peers, and clearly those same "allies" are on a mission to embarress you & assassinate your public image as covertly as humanly possible.. when you smile for the cameras, little do you know these common mediums of digital photography are not only recording the happiness you bear within that legendary grin, but the tragedy continuing to transpire above your eyebrows..

Stevland, you have more Grammys than you do hair follicles.. your hairline and my virginity share the same experation date.. if your stylist would be as malicious as to dress you in a tan suit, you'd resembe Lt. Worf to the T.. your name will be on the marquee in the next Aliens Vs. Predators sequel.. allow me to express the severity of the situation through means I'm sure you can identify & relate to:

"All I Do" is get distracted by your forehead, Stevland.

The "Ribbon In The Sky" fell off a cloud and is hanging on for dear life on the back of your head & neck, Stevland.

You are the victim of a "Part-Time ~~Lover~~ Hairline", Stevland.

"Yester-Me, Yester-Y0u, Yester-HAIR", Stevland.

Mr. Judkins, it's time.

For a mere $12 I can put you in contact with a certified hair care technician who can rid you of the shame and complete & utter lack of dignity clinging on for dear life north of the back of your neck.. and for an additional $2, I'll even have him line up that fucked up pube-stache you've been rockin' since like '73.. you may balk at the price, but don't consider it compensation, consider it an investment into your own peice of mind.. aren't you tired of your doo rag laughing manically at you as you go to cover up what's left of your braids every night?

Stevland, unlike those parasites in your corner, who have you sign legal documents you can't even read and fuck all the dope groupies while leaving you with the Sheneneh-esque crumbs, I am genuinely looking out for your best interests; both as a fan, and as a man.. I understand it's common for most older gentlemen to brave the riducle and do what they can to salvage their hair, but when your hairline becomes parallel to your ears drums, I am left with an intervention as my only recourse..

I'm doing this because I love you, Stevland.

I beg of thee.. please.

Don't be the next contestant on that Summer Jam screen.

I can save you, Stevland, but salvation lies in the hands of a barber.. please, allow him to cut that shit off, and allow yourself learn to love life again..

You've carried the cross long enough, friend.. allow me to serve as your savior.

Sincerely,
The Incomparable Bozack Jenkins

n.e. heartbreak.

2009-02-23T20:25:00.007-07:00

Monday, February 23 @ approximately 6:59 PM. . . .

Her: Ur a dick
Her: Why havent you called me

Blame It On The Goose... : Uhhhh.. who is this?
Got You Feelin' Loose... : I'm really not trying to be funny, but you're not in my phone book..

Her: Wow
Her: So you dont know me now

Blame It On Patron... : Who is this and on a scale of 1 to 10, how cute are you?

Her: Ok
Her: U funny
Her: You wanna come meet up with me and my girls or not

Got You In A Zone... : Depends.. do they shop at Lane Bryant?
Blame It On The A, A-A-A, A-Alcohol : Seriously though, who are you?

Her: Jay stop playin wit me
Her: I wanna see you papi

Blame It On The A-A, A-A-A-A, A-A-A-A, A-Alcohol : Aiight, well until you decide to identify yourself (preferably through risque picture mail), I'm ignoring your ass.. until then, I'll find solace in pretending our mandated time apart is sparing me the joys of chlamydia..

Her: CALL ME

I hate when this shit happens.. I think I'm done with liquor for the forseeable future.

i'm out for presidents to represent me.

2009-02-20T17:24:00.002-07:00

Harlem stand up!
Actually no, sit the fuck back down.. no wonder Cam dissapeared into "bolivion"..

loving you.

2009-02-18T08:57:00.004-07:00

Shouts to all my gorillas who checked up on a nigga yesterday.. had to get a CT scan and that IV dye is some shit.. supposedly it has a lot of adverse effects, but I wasn’t going for it.. however, too bad it felt otherwise after the scan.. that shit had me throwing up all day yesterday and writhing around like a bitch while my kidney’s felt like they were on fire.. hell, they STILL feel like I caught some of that Rhianna in my abdomen .. got me over here laid out, pounding the shit out of water to clean me out.. oh happy fucking day..

But seriously though, head to toe, I’m Carl Thomas’d out right now.. I’m on my "Emotional" shit, cuz I got an automated call from UPS stating that the triumphant return of Pain McCain (a.k.a. my Xbox 360) is scheduled for today..

“Look at me, I’m crying.. Inside my heart is, slowly dying..”

Sing that shit, Carl!

Life wasn’t the same without my daily dosage of some of that console jungle fever.. I had a wet dream the other night that I stomped some random online nigga out in some NBA 2K9, only to wake up disheveled and disheartened when I realized “it was all a dream” like Biggie.. I honestly don’t even play the muthafucka that often since I work so damn much, but with my self-imposed two week hiatus from the labor pits, now was the time to get reacquainted with the ex-wife..

Then on my first day of occupational freedom, she dies on a nigga.. figures.

A 72 hour bitch fest, a cop’s taser, and a call to some customer service rep who’s English is as good as the last season of “In Living Color” later and here we are.. at the cusp of marital bliss.. when the kind people at UPS (I’m down with that brown, fuck a USPS) return my bride, I’ll be rubbing toes, poppin’ bottles of her bath water, & tongue kissing her HDMI ports this fine evening to celebrate..

Just in time for “Star Ocean: The Last Hope”.. God is good.

houstatlantavegas.

2009-02-17T11:44:00.003-07:00

Why are women so mortally afriad of a nigga that knows alot of (beautiful) women?

I'm truly befuddled on this one.. can somebody (preferably with a vagina) please elucidate?

Bliss and beyond could be yours if you'd only take the time to get off that bullshit & entertain my advances.. don't let my choice of alluring aquaintances keep you from the golden gates of Heaven hidden behind my zipper..

let my beat build.

2009-02-16T07:07:00.009-07:00

1. Awwwwwwwwwwww man, All-Star weekend was the illest shit ever.. the private parties, the events, the energy of the city, the women.. this shit was truly an experience.. I REALLY need to get a camera.. I was gonna do a daily blog this weekend of just pictures of me acting the fuck up, but in true nigga fashion, your boy forgot to cop a camera before the festivities began.. it was kinda funny though seeing the spots that minorities refrain from usually going, being flooded with niggers.. that shit was gold.. I don’t even know where it’s gonna be at next year, but I’m there! Fuck the bullshit! Word to Maury, I think I got impregnated liiiiiiiiiiiiike 3 times this weekend.. later this week I might even be kind enough to share a story or seven on this very blog.. stay tuned or something..

2. If you ain't up on the boy Drake yet, you better get up on this bandwagon before dude blows & this bitch gets crowded.. dude's EASILY one of the most talented new artists I've heard in years.. he can sing, he can rap, and he's got the ultimate co-sign (for better or worse) in Lil' Wayne.. do yourself a favor and peep his latest mixtape "So Far Gone" here.. you're welcome in advance..

3. If I ever get focused and decide to cop a camcorder instead of wasting my money on clothes, kicks, & condoms, you video blog niggas (I see you, Teef.. ho ass nigga!) are in a world of hurt.. I was lookin' at those junts last week and was shocked and amazed at how cheap they were..............then proceeded to take my black ass to the mall & dropped like $600 on Obey, Express, & Pumas.. consider yourself lucky, muthafuckas.. I did YA'LL a favor.. enjoy your sympathy views and blog hits while you can, niggas.. the video reign of the Incomparable Bozack Jenkins cometh..

4. My fucking Xbox 360 (I affectionately refer to as Pain McCain) died AGAIN last week.. 3rd time in about a year and a half (and 2nd time in 3 months!!).. what a peice of shit.. that Barak Obama (Playstation) held me down for years, so I suppose this is what I get for turning my back on the PS3.. but I still gotta rock with the decrepit old white man for the time being.. droppin' $500 on that Barak ain't happenin' anytime soon unless my shit ain't on point when FFXIII drops.. then I'll have to fuck somebody up..

5. Lastly, gotta throw a lateral to my future baby mamma Beezy.. we joined forces and did an album review together.. peep it at her music blog **SHAMELESS PLUG ALERT** "She's So Offbeat" ** SHAMELESS PLUG ALERT** here.. (For those interested, I'm known to offer my blog services for the low, low price of $100k.. friends & family discount will run you about $85k.. hit up my agent for details..)

these are our heroes.

2009-02-13T08:06:00.011-07:00

to the power of internal fortitude.. his hair follicles might've long lost the battle, but his pants refuse to lose the war.. for those keeping score at home, yes.. they are still backwards..

And next on the menu?

Wait for it!

These niggas went from coolin' at the playground, to sleeping under the jungle gym.. feed these niggas after midnight and we are ALL fucked.

i used to love h.e.r (a lovers quarrel in b minor).

2009-02-12T17:52:00.009-07:00

My name is Jay and I love this fucking place.

No, not Blogspot, you dolt.. Sweet Tomatoes.

Hands down, it’s my favorite restaurant of all-time & shit.. she (yes, I am in fact referring to a inanimate object as a sentient being) and I share a bond that far exceeds human comprehension.. she’s the Bonnie to my Clyde, the Whitney Houston to my forlorn crack vial, the Fantasia Barrino to my illiteracy.. forbidden love be damned, she’s the soul mate I was brought into this plane of existence to adore.. and every time I visit her, I write her love letters on my napkins & ensure I lick the plate upon my exodus.

Cuz I’m a kinky nigga.

So yes, my girl is the fucking truth.. I'll fight anybody who dare think otherwise.. I’ve been down with her since that fateful day oh so many moons ago when I first touched down in the arid desert.. I take our time together quite serious, so after a long day of doing absolutely nothing, I decided to go pay my beautiful bride to be a visit.. as I hopped out my ride, I could feel her smile lustfully beaming down upon me.. I blew her a kiss, and continued on inside..

** ZACH MORRIS TIME OUT**

For those who have been unfortunate enough to have never been formally introduced to the love of my fucking life, Sweet Tomatoes is a gigantic salad buffet.. you make your own salad from damn near every ingredient under the sun, then you also have access to a bar that has various soups, italian dishes (pastas, pizza), breads, starches, and for you Hungry Hungry Hippo-ass fat niggas, even desert..

** ZACH MORRIS TIME IN**

I wipe away the waterfall of frothy saliva streaming down my chin, grab my tray & a plate, and begin work on my sinister salad creation.. I go for the tongs, get a nice helping of iceberg lettuce, and I’m already anticipating the orgasm I’m bout to have in my mouth once I finish this salad.. I'm the George Washington Carver of this salad shit.. I have it down to a science, and NEVER skip a step.. first is the lettuce, next is the chicken, then I handle my B.I. with the toppings.. cool.

Lettuce? Check.

Chicken?

Hold up.. where’s the chicken? It’s usually RIGHT next to the lettuce.. I keep my game face on, and politely show the lady behind the counter my milk carton with a picture of my fucking grilled chicken on the back.. to which she is kind enough to inform me that they no longer serve chicken with the salad.. this has got to be a joke.. I’ve gone to this place religiously for almost 9 years, and they ALWAYS have chicken.. this is the psychological equivalent to waking up next to your wife of 20 years, and one morning she inexplicably only has one titty.. the hell am I gonna do with one titty? It fucks our whole sex life up.. I can’t even hit it from the back, cuz her balance is all fucked up now.. you think Rob Base’s “It Takes Two” was just a song? I WANT MY GOT DAMN GRILLED CHICKEN.

Put THAT in your Pro Tools.

I’m salty as piss, but I keep it moving down the line, seething as I adorn my breast cancer ridden salad with an assortment of green peppers and a pinch of feta cheese.. by the time I reach the cashier, I’m seething like a forsaken mythological God.. the war within me is brewing, but I fight through it.. and while retrieving my wallet I hear something foreign.. something I’ve never heard before.. it’s almost alien.. an odd combination of sounds in a syncopated rhythm completely unfamiliar to my ear drums..

“That’ll be $13.07, sir.”

The fuck? $13.07?! For my female adolescent chested, wanna be Pamela Anderson-ass salad?! This is a joke right?! I’m looking at this chick like she’s crazy, and am left with no other recourse but to wonder out loud: “When the hell did the price go up to $13.07?! For a salad?!”.. She’s kind enough to inform me that, much like the grilled chicken, the change happened recently.. I suck my teeth loud as hell, hand over my debit card, and cringe at the mere thought of the bank account sodomy that I've just willingly been a participant in..

I drag my black ass to a booth, put my tray down, and make a beeline for the food bar.. distressed but not broken, I still have two other items to attain that always accompany my beloved, now de-breasted salad: a baked potato; decorated with sour cream, cheddar cheese, and chives; and a bowl of chicken noodle soup.. I punch some old lady in the face, grab a small plate and some tongs, then—WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFF.. since when did the baked potatoes get so damn little?! I’m looking down at the potato bar in disbelief.. it looks like a got damn graveyard for The California Raisins.. what the hell is going on here!?

Then I go to get some of my forever exquisite chicken noodle soup (hold the soda on the side, please) and the bowls are HALF the size they used to be!! Are they TRYIN’ to make me go Chris Brown on these niggas? Tell me how you’re supposed to breathe with No Air?

A pink ribbon salad? Little M&M sized, Happy Meal friendly baked potatoes? Kunta Kinte’ rations of my beloved chicken noodle soup? This is not the woman I fell in love with all those years ago.. she was drop dead gorgeous, the envy of all the other broads on the block.. Apache was even kind enough to write a song in her honor back in like ’92.. she used to be a dime.. now she wanna charge a nigga a quarter? What part of the game is this? Why she actin’ brand new?

And right about then it hit me..

She’s fucking some other nigga.

I try to play it off, but I’ve seen dude around.. fucking up gas prices.. coming after my boys jobs and shit.. dude ain’t no joke, he runs deep.. but I dunno, yo.. I thought she was different.. I thought she would stay down.. but apparently, that pussy was too good to pass up.

The recession turned my girl out, and she ain’t gettin’ a damn thing for Valentine’s Day.

somebody got to die.

2009-02-11T19:17:00.002-07:00

Never really fucked with 50, but this nigga is a certified lunatic for this one.. I don't give a shit what kind of problems I have with another man, as soon as you involve my family, I'm left with no other choice than to be proactive..

Proactive meaning I'm going to kill your monkey ass.

Talking shit about my Moms has limitations.. that would merely warrant an ass beating of epic proportions, with a serving of Stone Cold Stunner as a desert.. but going to my Moms place of business and insinuating you're going to somehow bring harm upon her?

Nah, fam.. I gotta park your ass six feet deep for that one.

See niggas don't understand.. the Air Force fucked me up.. both physically & psychologically.. I almost lost my life and spent 9 months in the hospital over that 9/11 shit.. to say I've been through hell and back would be an understatement.. that said, because I can't take a direct hit to my surgically sexy neck, I have next to no regard for entertaining a nigga in a fist fight.. if you try to swing at me, I'm going to try to kill you.. period.

You can call me paranoid, but a simple jab could fuck around and paralyze (or literally kill) my ass.. and threating my mother, in my mind, registers as more along the lines of a haymaker than a jab..

I realize this rap shit is on some WWF level of publicity and entertainment, but as soon as my Moms got involved, and you send niggas to her place of work?

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW man.. If I was Khaled, I'd get my bail money up.

good googly moogly.

2009-02-09T19:07:00.003-07:00

Sweet Jesus, Christina Milian is so fucking BAD.. shit!

Please allow me to bang my head on the keyboard real quick.. kladvsnskaln sakl2p9o0fsa;'kdsamlfdsaldmsal;.. maaaaaaaaaaan, shit yo.. if God would permit me just 4 minutes and 59 seconds of liberation within the confines of her glorious vaginal corridors, I would willingly go gay for the rest of my natural life.. I'd be a shag rockin', gold leotard, Kanye ass nigga..

.........ok, not willingly, but please believe I'd still sign my heterosexuality away in a Johnny Gill/Eddie Murphy heartbeat..

I bet her bathwater tastes like Koolaid.. just looking at this picture makes my dick wanna leap from my pants and moonwalk across the room.. I've been stacking up karma for years, Lord.. when you gon' let a nigga cash that shit out?

whoop that trick.

2009-02-09T01:48:00.004-07:00

“She want that lovey dovey (lovey dovey)
Fist fist (FIST FIST)
In my mind, I fantasize ‘bout hittin’ thissssss B”

So apparently this nigga Chris Brown lost his natural mind, got out of pocket, and beat the “Disturbia” out of Rhianna.. I can’t say I’ve ever considered myself a fan of this lil’ nigga, but I’m on my Joey Lawrence “Whoa!” shit right now.. talk about a PR nightmare, black people ain’t been this pissed since the McRib got discontinued.. this on the same level of public backlash as Eric Benet passing up on coming home to Halle Berry every night in order to satisfy his insatiable thirst for poon.. Was it worth it? Once Oprah finds out, it’s your ass, Chris.. how many times I got to tell ya’ll? Never trust a nigga that can do the splits..

Niggas thought ol’ boy was sweet, yet he’s gullier than the entire hip hop industry (yes, even you MySpace rappers).. rappers talk all this “my gun go off” “I murk niggas” “put you in a Gucci coffin” shit, yet every time they meet up, either nothing happens, or somebody just gets slapped.. not snuffed, not shot.. not dropkicked or jumped.. but slapped.. yes, that’s right.. apparently grown ass, gangsta ass niggas leave their knuckles in the trunk with their AK’s and Glock .45’s, but keep the pistols and open palms on deck for whoever wanna test.. I can’t even remember the last time I SLAPPED somebody.. oh, that’s right, I haven’t.. even the French are lookin’ at these rappers like they soft, and all they DO is catch L’s.. this nigga Saigon flex his muscles at every camera he sees, yet he couldn’t put the lean on Prodigy’s little midget ass? Oh that’s right, he was too busy getting a piggy back ride out the club to put that nigga to sleep, my bad..

Seriously though, it’s never cool to play pastor and lay hands on a woman.. well, unless she loses her natural mind and hits you first.. then you just return the favor by hiring lil’ bad ass kids to beat the brakes off her ass .. what she gon’ tell the cops? She got stabbed up by a 6 year old white girl? On the real though, I wish Rhianna (and her forehead) the best of luck.. I know she’s vulnerable right now, but I’m just the nigga to suck her toes & love her back to life.. a little Luther Vandross and quality time with Jay is just what the doctor ordered, baby.. I'll give you the same treatment 50 gave Officer Ross' baby moms..

And don't tell me you're sorry 'cause you're not
Baby when I know you're only sorry you got caught
But you put on quite a show
Really had me going
But now it's time to go
Curtain's finally closing
That was quite a show
Very entertaining
But it's over now (but it's over now)
Go on and take a bow

Hello, cruel irony? Is that you?

everything's just wonderful.

2009-02-08T19:01:00.006-07:00

Is it really that hard to flush the got damned toilet?

See, shit like this is why I don't really fuck with public restrooms unless it's a neccesity (no #2's over here!), nor do I allow just anyone to enter my humble abode and disrespect my hallowed porcelain goddess.. people think just because they drop a duece and flush, that they're good.

Just........NO, nigga.

On everything, its heads like you that got my nerves bad, yo.. got your boy paranoid as hell.. walking around itching like Tyrone Biggums, jumping at every little sound.. I can't sleep, I can't eat.. Hell, I can't even take a PISS cuz of muhfuckas like you.. see nothing irks a nigga more than talking a brisk stroll into the bathroom, only to stumble upon a gargantuan clump of toilet paper completely abandoned by western civilization; wondering around my toilet bowl aimlessly like a lost orphan.. on everything, that shit gets me tight.. like punch a baby in the face tight.. like “look what I just did to Nicole Brown Simpson’s neck” tight.. Christopher Columbus died how many years ago? Fam, I’m GOOD on the discoveries.. I’m on some gastric bypass, don’t have the stomach for this type shit when it comes to these low budget/BET Movie, toilet bowl treasure hunts.. if you wanna leave me a present so badly, you are more than welcome to make a charitable donation under my Christmas tree, preferably before December 25th.. but no cash please, niggas be hatin’..

Ya’ll probably sitting there like, “Be easy, Jay! You’re taking this shit way too serious..”

Fuck that! I’m tight for a reason.. if women can bitch for centuries about recreating Splash Mountain every time one of their clumsy asses fall into a toilet, I can go in on these dirty booty ass niggas who don’t know how to flush a damn toilet.. Seriously, I can’t be the ONLY dude on the face of the Earth who looks into the toilet after I handle my B.I.. so assuming that I’m not, that means YOUR punk ass wiped your punk ass, flushed, washed your hands, looked in that junt, SAW the rogue toilet paper orbiting around the bowl, did one of these:

And kept it movin’.. you sick bastard! Fuck is wrong with you?!

From this day forth, recession aside, I’m taxin’ niggas jaws for this type of ill behavior.. You mean to tell me that in this country I can go to court for having my Mek Denim dragging under my ass cheeks, but niggas are enabled by the court of law to deposit foreign objects into my toilet bowl without fear of legal repercussions?

Is this the brand of justice I involuntary subscribed to upon my descent into this plane of existance? Where's MY Million Man March?

Another thing I CAN'T STAND is when people try to talk to me when I’m talking a leak.. c’mon, fam.. I’m a man of peace.. I let A LOT of shit slide in public restrooms for the greater good of mankind.. if you spark up an Ozone Alert Day with your methane leaks, I don’t say shit.. If there’s like 10 free stalls and you opt to use the one right next to me, I might look at you half crazy, but I’ll let it go as long as you don’t piss on my foot.. but my dude, never, EVERRRRRRRRRR talk to me when my dick is in my hand.. EVER.. ever? EVER.. I'm like the Statury of Liberty, home.. I'm tryin' to let freedom ring and you're violating my civil rights and shit.. nigga, do you WANT war?

The bathroom is my sanctuary, the urinal is my pulpit, and for you to have the umitigated gall to interrupt my sermon with your paulty nigger speak is nothing short of sacrilege.. why can’t you let the spirit move in peace? Are you TRYIN’ to go to hell? I’m sanctified with this, homie.. solitude is a fundamental requirement for my breed of gospel..

Translation: Nigga, I’m peein’! Why are you talking to me?!

I really feel like I need to cake up and write a book on this to school these heads, yo.. this recession got folks acting out of pocket for real..

crab in the barrel ass niggas!

2009-02-08T15:14:00.004-07:00

Niggas got me using exclaimation points and shit!

The big homie Ronnie hit me up a couple days ago talkin' bout my blog was fucked up.. admittedly, I didn't even know what the hell he was talkin' about.. due to ongoing, estrogen-laden distractions, I hadn't thrown anything up on here for public consumption in liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike 2 weeks.. but in true nigga fashion, I essentially told him to fall back and go play in traffic or something.. but my interest was peaked.. just what the hell IS this Big Easy ass nigga talkin' bout?

So I log on a day later or something and damn.. my shit was in a bad way.. Photobucket left my blog lookin' in worse shape than a pornstar's asshole.. couldn't nobody tell me?!

Crab in the barrel ass niggas!

Sebastion ass niggas! "Dere you see her, floating in dee blue lagoon" ass niggas!

I had to tuck my nuts, get on my Jayceon Taylor, and hit the nigga back apologizing and shit.. I didn't have time to handle it for a minute, but I'm at the mercy of a hungover this fine Sunday afternoon, so it's like.. "Hell, why not fix this junt?"

So I'm back in my Air Force/IBM mindstate today, gettin' my computer nerd on and fixing this junt, so bear with me.. I should be back on schedule with the blogs this week as well since I took this week off work.. also, those BNB niggas are back in the lab & should have something on deck soon.. you're welcome in advance..

fried bananas.

2009-01-30T23:20:00.000-07:00

Easily the most honest interview I've ever heard.. why can't rappers keep it one-hunnid all the time? No more fried bananas!

Nore, for your brutal honesty, I forgive you for infamously informing the Neptunes you have a cocker spaniel.

cold blooded.

2009-01-28T08:25:00.003-07:00

Former Bad Boy rapper Mark Curry is releasing a tell-all book about his time at the Bad Boy record label, according to ThisIs50.com.

In the book, which is titled Dancing With the Devil, Curry speaks on Diddy's penchant for stealing artists' shine and charge them strange fees.

"Puff has an annoying habit of inserting himself into the songs and videos of all the artists on his label and its common knowledge that many Bad Boy acts resented him for this," writes Curry. "Asked about his practice in the July 1995 issue of a magazine aimed at black teenagers, Puff said: 'I like performing with my artists. I like talking on the records and I like being in the videos. It protects my interests in terms of what I’m going to do in the future. Say if a company tries to remove me. It's going to be hard to remove me and still have my acts and [have] the same level of intensity and the same flavor and feeling'."

"Puff charged the artists for his appearance on their records and videos, usually without [them] realizing it until they receive their royalty statements," wrote the rapper, who was known for his appearance on the hit "Bad Boy for Life." "That’s when they discovered that their large sums of money had gone to fees which were doubled, tripled and even quadrupled because of Puff's 'special appearances.' He charged artists, for example, for having his Bentley in his videos-which he insisted upon- then took tax credit for business use of a car."

Dancing With the Devil is slated for a February release.

it's been 5 years already?

2009-01-27T13:15:00.009-07:00

Damn.

And the fucked up thing is, I keep thinking I missed something.

tom's plantation (the myspace archives): deepest! bluest! my head is like a shark's fin!

2009-01-27T06:11:00.004-07:00

The fuck is up with his ’63 Buick LeSabre throwback hairline? Dude look like he’d reach so far back to scratch it he’d come back with Ghengis Khan’s autograph.. I mean, damn homie.. if you look closely, you can see Marty McFly doin’ donuts on the top of his head in the De Lorean..

When he was singin’ "You Make Me Better", was he talkin’ about S-Curl?

Seriously though.. I know these labels be lyin’, but how old is this nigga supposed to be anyway? Either he got elbow dropped by Father Time or this is just collateral damage from Don Imus’ "nappy headed ho" comment.. either way, I’m guessing it’s just a little too late to tell him to pull his face down..

@ this nigga washing his dishes, lookin’ down at his sponge with envy..
@ this nigga havin’ a mortal fear of cutting the grass..
@ this nigga passing around the collection plate, hoping some kind soul drops some hair in it, instead of a fresh 20..
@ this nigga being so desperate for waves he keeps a lint brush and a doo-rag on him at all times..
@ this nigga having more platinum albums than hair follicles..
@ this nigga walkin’ up in the barber shop like, "Ummmmm...."

what would jesus do?

2009-01-26T07:43:00.004-07:00

Aiight, so this shit has bugged me for ages.

Let’s say you're getting your AC Green on & spend your entire existence heeding the good word of the Lord, following in his Flintstone-esque footsteps, and keeping your dick in your pants like a good little apostle.. you find a beautiful woman you want to dick down, but know the bible frowns upon it until you pull a Beyonce and put a ring on it, so you wait until you get married.. after decades of swollen, Smurf-colored nuts, your wedding night finally comes, and that ever elusive push bush & the gold medal that comes with it is finally yours for the taking.. praise be to God, we fuckin' tonight, baby!

So what exactly goes down?

Does the bible frown upon devastating back shots? Would Jesus interdict your access to the golden gates of Heaven based solely upon the amazing head you’re a mere 30 seconds from being on the receiving end of? Can you stick your dick in her [Pitbull] culooooooo [/Pitbull] without fear of pastorial reprisal?

Basically what I’m asking is, is there a list of bedroom do’s and don’t’s for you sanctified niggas? Or is it a spiritual free for all for deacons & and nether regional secretions?

("You didn't think I threw away ALL those movies, did you?")

Have you SEEN Kirk Franklin’s wife? Look at this beautiful black woman.. Could you really blame that nigga for beatin’ up that pussy with the strength of Samson? I could honestly see homeboy pullin’ out whips, chains, and sex swings in the name of the Lord, talkin’ about: “GP are you wit me?! Oh yeah! We gettin’ laid, we ain’t goin’ no where!!”

I bet Bobby Jones is a nasty nigga too.. he look like the type to bust in a woman’s mouth then kiss her afterwards.. do you ~~kiss your momma~~ read scripture with that tongue, you Carrie Bradshaw-ass deviant?

But seriously though.. somebody school me on this shit.. will TD Jakes go to hell for tossing his wife’s salad? Let a nigga know..

SIDENOTE: This blog was based upon the colorful conversation I had with a beautiful woman last night.. the date went very well, by the way.. thanks for asking!

f'real f'real?

2009-01-25T11:27:00.004-07:00

It took much longer than I ever thought possible, but it finally happened.. Lil' Wayne has finally lost his fucking mind..

His new rock album "Rebirth" drops in April.. prepare your car speakers for a vicious beating..

Or not.

See what you started, Kanye?

thank you jesus, for my momma.. thank you bitches, for my money.

2009-01-24T08:11:00.005-07:00

Just revisted this junt for the first time in years and fell in love with it all over again.. Cody Chesnutt is that nigga twice.. now if we could only get a follow up.. I heard he pulled a Lauryn Hill and lost his mind, but prayerfully he comes back to the light, cuz he's a dope ass artist for real.. the sound quality of this album is shit, primarily since it wasn't recorded in a studio.. it was made in it's entirety in his bedroom, over his headphones.. hence, the name of the album.. if you've never heard this junt though, do yourself a favor and get familiar..

Also, I'm mad late on this one but just last night I finally realized the infinite might of the female wingwoman.. nothing puts an unsure, inibreated woman at ease like a flock of beautiful women singing your praises.. that shit is the ultimate co-sign.. it don't get no better..

"You're friends are so nice!" You got damn right.

michelle obama is ugly.

2009-01-23T15:00:00.001-07:00

I'm sorry ya'll, but somebody had to say it.

Barak, you still my nigga but got damn! Ms. MySpace Angles bamboozled your ass, fam..

i chunk up the duece from the norf to the souf.

2009-01-23T09:14:00.006-07:00

Disclaimer: You're so vain.. you probably think this blog is about you.. well shit, it is!

I think I got “dumped” yesterday.

“Dumped” because although we never had The Talk deeming us mutually exclusive, we shared a mutual affinity for each other.

First chick in God knows how long that I actually let meet some of my friends, and she was even kind enough to not only return the favor, but introduce me to her parents **GASP** around Christmas time.. so yeah, she was on front runner status.. I was perfectly content with taking it slow & seeing where the currents took us, but alas, ol’ girl finally had enough of my manic schedule (two full time jobs & a grip of volunteer work DOES have a tendency to scare off the opposite sex away) and was kind enough to bestow upon me a brand new 2009 Pink Slip GT..

She’s been aggy for months that I don’t spend enough time with her, and the nail in the coffin was the fact that she can almost never get a hold of me.. she hit me up Weds. night while I was at work, and was pissed I didn’t answer.. this is nothing new.. I AM at work after all, so I hit her back when I get off at 10pm.. she’s still working, and states she’ll hit ME back after SHE gets off and I better pick up since I have about a 97% success rate at missing her calls.. I then go straight home and watch Sportscenter to ensure I am awake upon her call, but the phone never rings, so eventually I’m on my zZZzzZzzzz shit..

Next morning (being yesterday) I hit her up via text asking how her morning is going.. she hits me back like “Nigga, where’s my vacuum?”.. not her exact words.. I’m paraphrasing, dammit! But I tell her I’ll swing by Friday.. she’s cool with it.. I then ask her why the hell she ain’t call me back last night since she made such a big deal about it, and she insists she called and to check my missed calls for evidence.. I'm too old for phone games, but I check my missed calls for the sake of peace of mind, and lo & behold there’s nothing.. right about here it dawns on me that I will not be winning this one, and kindly take it upon myself to gingerly thumb through the alphabet and retrieve a nice, shiny L.. She then states that I’m too busy for her & she’s not the type of girl to wait around for a guy to make time for her once a week..

And then it dawned on me.

I really didn’t give a shit.

Now just to clarify, I’m not saying that to be callous or mean (cuz you’re probably reading this right now anyway, sweetheart!), but I was really sitting there trying to think of one time, JUST ONE, she did something for me..ANYTHING.. just once! And I couldn’t.. I’m not gonna front and act like we didn’t have good times, but it was ALWAYS me giving and her taking.. which, in retrospect, was wack as hell..

reciprocity : rec⋅i⋅proc⋅i⋅ty [res-uh-pros-i-tee]
–noun

1. a reciprocal state or relation.
2. reciprocation; mutual exchange.
3. the relation or policy in commercial dealings between countries by which corresponding advantages or privileges are granted by each country to the citizens of the other.

I’m not saying I don’t enjoy doing nice things for people I care about, but sometimes it’s nice to know that somebody gives a shit about you in return.. I'mjustsayin'..

Now admittedly, I never went balls out with her like I could’ve since we never got on that level to warrant me doing so, but I did more than enough to show her that I genuinely cared for her, and never got that even once in return.. the two biggest examples of such were: this one time, at band camp.......... she called me up at like 3 in the morning, drunk & lost with a dying phone battery, begging for me to come find her and take her home.. the only hints being she was at a hotel and the street she was on (not the cross streets, people!) before her battery died.. Thankfully, my GPS Nav was clutchasfuck and I was able to drag my ass out of bed and get my Chris Columbus on.. if somebody were to do all that for me, I'd pretty much become their sex slave for the duration of my existance.. I'mjustsayin'..

The second of which was Christmas itself.. she practically begged me for weeks on end to get her some Ed Hardy kicks for Christmas (or her birthday, they fall on the same day), and because I wanted to ~~play myself~~ be the one to put a smile on her face, I held her down..

But when someone begs for something, it kinda takes the enjoyment out of doing things for them, but since I cared for her, & wanted to convey that, I ~~played myself~~ obliged anyway.. she was on Cloud 19 and rocks them everywhere, protecting them like Jay-Z does Memhpis Bleek.. and what did I get in return? Jack shit.

*insert creepy horror movie organ stab here*

Did I tell her I wanted anything? Nope, cuz I honestly didn’t.. I just expected her to do something, ANYTHING! to show me that she cares about a nigga.. Moms has always taught me that gifts aren’t about what you buy, it’s about creating memories, and she’s dead on.. she didn’t have to spend a dime, and she still could’ve showed me SOME kinda love.. dammit, I have feelings too & shit.. but all I got was an empty promise to take “me” (treating yourself to something you love is not a gift, I'm sorry) out for sushi, that as of 1/23/09 (Oh shit, that’s today!) has yet to be fulfilled.. yes, it’s a recession, but admiration is still dumb high in the stock market.. it doesn't take much to invest in, but the reward speaks for itself..

So after she is kind enough to inform me that she’s returning her Team Jay jersey to it’s rightful owner, I notice a text message she sent me the night before that I somehow missed, that was apparently after she called me: “I’m DONE!”.

Bet!

Guess I am too.

girl, i'll house you.

2009-01-20T18:38:00.008-07:00

Your pastor is a damn lie, Gordon Ramsay is God.

Dude is an inspiration to every quick witted, callous nigga the world over.. he's my personal lord & savior, and if I was ever presented the opportunity to time travel and replace the word "Jesus" with "Gordon" in the bible's very first printing, I'd do so in a heartbeat.. how can you not respect his G? Dude shits all over grown ass men and they do nothing.. NOTHING! But either walk off defeated or break down crying.. do you know what kind of power that is?

"Jean Phillipe, can you escort these two ladies back to plastic surgery?"

Dude's body of work is incredible.. the diversity of his insults, the paralyzing speed in which he delivers them, the potency.. my God, he's a beast.. alot of heads are like, "I wish he'd try that bullshit with some black people".. fool please, he'd have us ALL on a voluntary boat back to Africa, longing for the days of inferior living conditions and well definied racial barriers.. dude is no joke.. but the beautiful thing is he's not only ruthless, but he's funny as shit.. dude's comedic brilliance is rivaled only by.................myself (well shit, somebody had to say it).. I don't even know how he got caught up in the kitchen, but dude's true calling is a stand up comedian.. dude has me straight WEAK..

Aspiring Chef/Potential Victom: *proudly displays newest dish for Ramsey to critique*

The God: "The hell is that?"

Aspiring Chef/Potential Victom: *visibily nervous* "Oh, just.. something I pulled out of my ass."

The God: "Well put it back in, cuz it sucks."

YES!!!!!!!!!!!!! Right in the kidney!!!!! Kick that nigga while he's down!!!!

I need a Simon Cowell/Ramsey tag team effort like YESTERDAY.. they can call themselves the poTPushaz or something.. on the real though, how can you not love this man? Team Ramsay all damn day.. new season of Hell's Kitchen starts in two weeks.. get familiar!

so even in a racist's mind, he's half right.

2009-01-20T07:36:00.007-07:00

I was gonna get busy in MS Word and type up my feelings on this inaguration, but fuck all that.. this video sums up my feelings perfectly.. the energy in this venue is un-fucking-real.. I don't even fuck with MC Camel, but even the hater in me has to dig deep within itself to give it up to dude for this junt..

Jay-Z My President is black Remix LIVE 1-18-09 from pleasedontstare on Vimeo.

For you not safe for work lookin' ass niggas, allow me to run it down..

"My president is black
In fact, he’s half white
So even in a racist's mind, he’s half right
So if you got a racist mind, it's alright
My president is black, but his house is all white
Rosa Park sat, so Martin Luther could walk
Martin Luther walked, so Barrack Obama could run
Barrack Obama ran, so all the children can fly
So I'mma spread my wings, you can meet me in the sky
I already got my own clothes, already got my own shoes
I was hot before Barrack, Imagine what I'm gon' do
Hello Mrs. America, hey pretty lady
Red, White and blue flag, wave for me, baby
Never thought I say this shit, baby I'm good
You can keep your puss
I dont wan't no more Bush
No more war
No more Iraq
No more white lies
My president is black"

Shit makes me feel kind of bad for McCain, so I'll hold it down for his decrepit ass with the unauthorized remix.. yo, turn my headphones up.. I got that Dylon (HOT FIYAAAAAAH) for ya'll niggas..

"Yo, my president is black, my senator is old
No blood circulation, his dap be all cold
With a female co-pilot, that muhfucka rode
And caught a vicious L, minus the E, V, or O
I jacked Jeezy's track, this that Pain McCain music
Animated corpse, cut, bleed embalming fluid
My nigga is a maverick, yet can't make a sandwich
Political savage, with an old people's scent like cabbage
Pissed cuz they let a real nigga in the white house
"Yo, I need my polygrip." "Now?" "No, right now"
Put veracose veins back on the fucking map
His legs are ghost white, but my president is black"

AYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

we'll always love big poppa.

2009-01-19T21:00:00.008-07:00

Just came back from seeing “Notorious”, and damn, yo.. I’m floored.. this junt was THAT good.. I was apprehensive.. I went into it expecting some bullshit, but heavens no, this junt came correct.. the thing that really fucked me up about the movie was about half way through, I realized how badly hip-hop misses Big.. like, REALLY misses Big.. on some Samson rockin’ a taper fade & tryin’ to hit up the gym type shit.. Him and Pac’s deaths back to back was just too much.. I don’t think any other genre of music has EVER had to suffer what we did, like we did.. music truly hasn’t been the same since..

His death really hit me when the murder scene went down.. I can’t even front, your boy had to go to war & fight back some tears.. I was catching flashbacks of staring at the TV in awe at the headline on the news "The Notorious B.I.G. - Dead At 24".. all I could think about was how much his music had an impact on my life (on more levels than I could ever count), and how the kids of today will never be able to share that same experience.. outside of R&B music, Big was the only rapper I’ve ever heard that was truly able to connect with me on that level.. rap music is still alive and well, but a significant piece of hip-hop died with Christopher Wallace..

So with that said, I wanted to somehow pay homage to Big & run down a couple of some of my personal favorites from his catalog, and how they individually affected my life..

“Gimmie The Loot” from “Ready To Die”. A lot of people don’t know this, but before I dedicated my existence to changing the lives of the less fortunate (kids in particular), I used to be a kleptomaniac my damn self as a teenager.. a nigga had it bad like Usher.. my problem was never that I was a bad kid, I was just bored as shit way too often.. and getting my Ocean’s Eleven on gave me something to do, since I was getting lazy with my comic book illistrator aspirations, & my knee was still fucked up from basketball so I couldn't hit the courts.. so as a result, I used to steal all kinds of shit just cuz.. clothes, CDs, movies, sneakers, money (very rarely & but definitely not on some stick up kid shit), then flip it into cash.. but it was only a matter of time until I really got it crackin', when my boy Adam put me on to stealing cars.. I was paranoid as shit every time we did the do, and had no clue what he did with them afterwards.. all I know is I’d only do what was asked, and he’d hit me with a fat knot of cash days later in return for my services.. so anyway, Adam was obsessed with “Ready To Die”.. he used to bump that shit non-stop.. all day, every day.. and every time we jacked a car, he’d immediately bust out singing this shit acapella.. dude was an adrenaline junkie & wasn't right in the head.. oddly enough, his father was also the pastor of my church..

The illest thing is, we got busted in the last car we stole together, and we were actually listening to this junt in the CD player when we got caught.. we got slapped with charges, and Adam & I fell out immediately afterwards (the nigga tried to pin the whole thing on me), but somehow the case got dismissed.. I still wonder how the hell that happened to this day.. but every time I hear this, all I can think about is freewheelin’ the shit out of somebody else’s Chrysler New Yorker.. Biggie Smalls IS the illest..

“I Need You Tonight” from Junior M.A.F.I.A.’s “Conspiracy”. This song provided the background music to the first serious “oh my God, I just might get some pussy tonight” moment I ever had in my life.. I used to hit up all the high school football games with my boy John.. the nigga was a fucking cornball, but he somehow was dumb tight with damn near every fine ass female in our school.. black, white, yellow, cyan, didn’t matter.. they all LOVED his black ass, so I was always down to get my co-pilot on.. after the games our broke asses used to always walk to the local pizza spot, scrap our money together, and kick in on a couple slices and one big ass soda with a grip of straws.. while we were up there, I got acquainted with one of John’s homegirls.. some light skinned PYT with the hallowed T-Boz cut.. I remember being enamored with her, primarily because she was such a big hip-hop head.. we spent most of the night throwing obscure song titles at each other, just to see if the other could spit a couple of bars of the song..

At the end of the night, I made my move & offered to walk her home.. with my walkman in tow, I threw on one of my illest self-made mixtapes (I wasn’t the only nigga recording songs off the radio with the Pause and Play buttons and passing them off as mixtapes, but I was one of the best), gave her one ear bud while I rocked with the other, and I walked her home.. my tracklist was flawless, she was bobbing her head crazy..

Until this junt came on.

She stopped dead in her tracks, grabbed a nigga by the ears, then proceeded to wipe me down (with her tongue) like Lil' Boosie.. it was euphoria.. I had the sexual erruption goin' down in my pants way before Snoop discovered Auto-Tune.. however, in my adolescent haste, I immediately attempted to shove my hand down her pants, only to find myself on the receiving end of the bitch slap heard around the world.. she came with it from the hip like Guile.. “SONIC BOOOOOOOOOOM!”.. my hearing ain’t been the same since.

“Sky Is The Limit” from “Life After Death”. I had to save the best for last, cuz I truly believe this song might’ve saved my life.. it’s between this or The Winan’s “Paradise”, cuz they both came at the right time.. to make a very long story short, in ’04 I spent 9 months of the year fighting for my life.. when you sign up to join the military (shouts to my military gorillas), it’s always a remote possibility that you could get fucked up.. but I never in a million years thought God would be malicious enough to scribble me on that list.. that year was the absolute worst of my entire life, and nothing could ever happen between today and the day I die that could top what I had to go through to survive.. but survive I fucking did..

Cuz I’m that fucking nigga twice.

But in the process of dealing with all this, the woman I thought was my soul mate, and would spend the rest of my life with dumped my black ass.. the physical torment I was going through was nothing compared to the psychological scars she was now kind enough to bestow upon me.. to say I was fucked up would be an understatement of epic proportions.. that ended up being the straw that broke the ~~Jay-Z’s~~ camel’s back.. I couldn't deal with it all anymore, and ended up becoming suicidal & literally losing my fucking mind.. I wish I could say I was exaggerating, but there’s about 6 weeks out of that year I don’t even remember cuz I was so out of it mentally.. thanks, you callous bitch!

But the reason I hold this song in such high regard is even though I can’t recall those 6 weeks where a nigga was on that “Take me now, lord!” shit, this song is the first thing I remember afterwards.. my black ass parked up in a hospital bed, ~~DMX’d~~ drugged up, nodding in and out of consciousness, with this playing in my headphones.. it was like waking up from the dead.. I had no godly idea what the hell had been going on before hand, but a nigga was reborn..

Right then and there, I knew I’d be straight.

R.I.P. Christopher George Latore Wallace
(May 21, 1972 – March 9, 1997)

you've officially been chopped & screwed.

2009-01-19T14:57:00.002-07:00

Say family, I ain’t even mad.. I’d hit too.

Wait a minute.. before ya’ll discriminate and get all up in arms, do ya’ll not see how thick she is? Matter of fact, have you ever seen a midget that DIDN’T have ass? Oh, that’s right.. you haven’t.

Any woman that can give you head standing up is an asset, I don’t give a shit what ya’ll say.. I’m trickin’ on her at Baby Gap.. fuck what ya’ll talkin’ bout.. she can have whatever she liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike..

say you will.

2009-01-18T18:22:00.010-07:00

One of these things is not like the other.

(Leaked cast photos from "Mr. Hanky: The Movie")

a) Saigon's album finally hit the streets.

b) Sam Cassell was voted People Magazine's Sexiest Man Alive.

c) The Cardinals are in the Superbowl.

d) My penis shrunk.

I'll let you connect the dots.. meanwhile, the rest of my city and I will continue to wild the fuck out in anticipation of the Vince Lombardi trophy finding a permanent residence in the desert..

Speaking of Sam Cassell though, I always wondered.. I know groupies are in possession of a severe lack of shame, but when it REALLY hits them that they willingly fucked a nigga from such an unsightly pedigree, does it make them denounce their whorish ways & make them see the light?

You're A Whore: "Girrrrrrrrrrrrl, guess who I fucked last night?!"

You're A Whore Too: "Who cares? Girl, I fucked Sam Cassell!"
You're A Whore: "You.. you fucked who?"

You're A Whore Too: "Sam Cassell, girl! NBA? Millionare? Boston Celtics?"
You're A Whore: ".........."

You're A Whore Too: "I had my t-shirt and my panties onnnnnnnnnnn.. t-shirt & my panties onnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn....."
You're A Whore: ".....did he give you an anal probe?"

You're A Whore Too: "A what?"
You're A Whore: "A-an anal probe.. that's what aliens do.. they give anal probes..."

You're A Whore Too: "I fucked an alien?"
You're A Whore: "Depends.. did Will Smith & Tommy Lee Jones kick your door down after you two finished?"

You're A Whore Too: "........where's my bible?"

Also, I don't know who the hell keeps sending all these people in droves to my blog, but it's much appreciated.. quite clutch, in fact.. my Feedburner subscriptions are kinda crazy.. my blog is the the hottest shit to hit the streets since trichomoniasis.. you'll definitely be getting a Christmas card from me this year..

Also, I'm not sure what I'll toss up next from the MySpace archives, but I'm really leaning towards my 5-part epic "Your Boombox Better Form A Union..." series, also known as "When Beastiality Goes Horribly Wrong".. if that doesn't work, suggestions on your next fix are more than welcome too..

am i high?

2009-01-16T00:49:00.008-07:00

Since when were strippers granted superpowers?

Mommy, can I have one???

If I was a stripper, this would provide more Inspiration than a Young Jeezy album.. on some "Yes we can!" type shit.. I bet dude's don't even have to put dollar bills in her thong.. she just stares at their wallet & uses telekenesis to get it her damn self..

tom's plantation (the myspace archives): cuz a dog that don't pee on trees is a bitch.

2009-01-15T11:12:00.006-07:00

.

What I'm about to say is nothing short of scandalous, selfish, and incriminating; but my moral compass, which I've admittedly never been very familiar with, outright refuses to steer me otherwise.. try as it may, that shit ain't worked since Erkel was fucking Myra.. and in this particular situation, no conscious is looking much more tantalizing than a guilty one.. so with that said, I gotta keep it real, big homie..

I wanna make a heaping bowl of whoopee with your girlfriend.

Wow, you look pretty pissed.

I know we came up together.. and yeah, I'm well aware we've known each other since we were bartering graham crackers, eating legos, and depositing urine samples into swimming pools, but that doesn't change the fact that I had a daydream about cuffing your girl's booty liiiiiiiiiiike 5 minutes ago..

Look, I'm trying to be a man about this, my nigga, but you really need to chill with all that yelling and shit.. can't we be civil? What would Obama do?

On the real though, why you think I'm always walking behind ya'll? Ya'll be all lovey dovey and shit.. gazing into each other's eyes.. holding hands, arms swinging while the birds bust out the background vocals in the cut.. and I be behind ya'll.. HATIN'.. teeth grit all tight and shit.. fists balled up.. just itchin' to knock you the fuck out and play basketball with your girl's ass..

And you stay fuckin' with me.. you be comin' over on Sundays to watch the game.. braggin' on your dick about how she be puttin' it on you, like I wanna hear that shit.. but I keep my game face on.. I don't ever give you the satisfaction of knowing how badly I wanna hit that.. so I sit there and joke and laugh with you about that bullshit.. but the facade can't last forever, potna.. sooner or later you're getting evicted out the picture..

And the sexual deviant in me cannot wait.

I saw ol' girl at the mall the other day, as a matter of fact.. with her fine ass.. you was nowhere to be found.. I was coming out of Foot Locker when I got distracted by the sexiest damn pair of brown legs in the history of modern mankind.. I recognized them right away, and was even happier to realize there wasn't another pair standing next to them.. but I didn't wanna impede her beauty, so I didn't say shit to her.. I just sat back in the cut and watched her eat ice cream.. I would've paid good money to park my black ass in that ice cream cone right about then.. you know that, right? Does she be lickin' you like that?

Nigga don't get mad, I'm just sayin'.

Then after she was done, I followed her outside.. the crowd of annoying ass kids and boring ass house wives tried to separate us, but I followed that mean ass switch she got all throughout the mall; until the sunlight kissed those sexy ass legs.. I'm sure even God himself was looking down her shirt as soon as she stepped outside, salivating over those scrumptious mammaries.. your girl is so damn cold, dog.. I had to take a couple of pit stops to wipe the drool off my chin, but you know.. I was focused.. well, that was until I realized her legs weren't the only thing I was following..

What the fuck is that smell?

Is that her—nigga, you put your dick in that stench?

Damn, potna.. I tap out.

She's all yours.

romeo must die.

2009-01-13T09:44:00.006-07:00

Knicks center Eddy Curry was slapped with a shocking sex-harassment suit Monday by his former driver, who claims the 6-foot-11 hoopster tried to solicit gay sex from him.

The stunning court papers claim Curry, a married father of three, repeatedly approached chauffeur David Kuchinsky "in the nude," allegedly telling him, "Look at me, Dave, look" and "Come and touch it, Dave."

Curry also made Kuchinsky perform "humiliating tasks outside the scope of his employment, such as cleaning up and removing dirty towels [Curry had ejaculated into] so that his wife would not see them," the Manhattan federal court suit says.

Kuchinsky, who is straight and Jewish, also alleges racial discrimination, saying that Curry hurled slurs at him including "f---ing Jew," "cracker," "white slave," "white devil" and "grandmaster of the KKK."

And in a disturbing episode reminiscent of some of the evidence in the manslaughter case against former Nets star Jayson Williams, Kuchinsky further claims in his suit that Curry pointed a "fully loaded" gun at him on at least two separate occasions to keep him from complaining about his treatment.

"Look, I have one in the chamber," Curry allegedly said.

Kuchinsky, who worked for Curry from October 2005 through October 2008, says he was initially hired as an around-the-clock chauffeur for Curry and his family at their Burr Ridge, Ill., mansion.

But shortly after starting work, he soon found his duties fell well outside his job description and "progressively became Curry's "house-boy,'" his suit says. He is seeking $98,000 plus compensatory damages from the injured Knick, whose contract pays him $9.4 million this year.

Kuchinsky says he is owed $68,000 in unpaid wages, as well as $25,000 in expenses for which Curry never repaid him.

"Instead of paying him, they discriminated against him, figuring that it would keep him there," said Kuchinsky's lawyer, Matthew Blit. "Imagine going into your boss's office ... and he stands up and drops his pants and he asks you take care of him. Those actions are unacceptable whether it's in a corporate office or a private home."

A grown ass man making another pick up his nut rag? The Knicks always reward their fans by being on some bullshit.. didn't Isiah Thomas O.D. this summer too? And ya'll REALLY think Lebron wants to be apart of this nonsense? This sounds like a deleted scene from R. Kelly's "Trapped In The Closet"..

i put on.

2009-01-11T07:53:00.008-07:00

Oh my persian Jesus.

The fucking Arizona Cardinals are one win away from being in the Superbowl.. ya'll don't even understand how big this is for my city.. I mean, yeah.. the Suns, Diamondbacks, & Whatever The Hell The Name of Our Hockey Team Is have been putting it down for a minute, but people have been waiting for the Cards to get right for decades.. this is a team that hasn't seen the playoffs since '70.. talk about outlandish.. to put that in perspective, I think Dr. Dre's old ass was JUST going through menopause about then.. it's crazy..

But regardless of our annual output, my fellow Phoenix heads have held it down real heavy at the games, and especially the tailgating.. so for us to finally, FINALLY not only get some small taste of success, but make some serious noise in the playoffs is just unreal.. I was talkin' to my boy at work last night about this, and neither of us thought we'd be alive to witness this shit.. the city is on fire right now.. last night's win magically transformed my city into a war zone, complete with land mines, trip wire, and mortar shells.. it's a celebration, bitches! I was so shook, when I hit the club, I spent about 4 hours in the stall out of fear for my survival.. AND we're hosting the NFC Championship game next week? Shieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet.. hope they got an extra seat belt on that bandwagon..

Word to D'Angelo, how does it feel?

i am not my hair.

2009-01-10T08:21:00.013-07:00

As anybody who really knows me can attest to, I am a reality TV addict.. the precious space in my DVR box is reserved solely for sports and such critically acclaimed cinematic masterpieces like “Surreal Life” & “Celebrity Rehab With Dr. Drew”.. I’ve never really been a big TV person outside of those two genres, even though I’m well aware that reality TV is the culinary equivalent to a bacon double cheeseburger with extra cardiac arrest on the side.. unfortunately, my hectic schedule leaves me only watching this shit at odd hours.. my roommate is notorious for waking up to a nigga such as myself chillin’ on the couch and cackling manically at the misadventures of Chance & Real (Cali & KO are so cold).. so with that said, I was amped when I learned the new season of The Real World was on deck..

I’ve been watching this shit since I was literally like 11.. it’s like the heroin addict uncle I never had.. MTV’s held me down lovely for years with this junt, and outside of when I was doin’ the Air Force thing, I haven’t missed a single season.. last season was fucking greatness (Greg unseated Puck for the biggest dick in RR history) and I expected much of the same this year..

Well, until I was unfortunate enough to watch the first episode.

I arrived home last night from a long day at work, weaving through text message traffic like a bike cop.. didn’t really feel like being bothered by anyone, so instead of going out & being a 28 year old, I turned on my idiot box and checked my recorded shows.. honestly, my life hasn’t been the same since “Real World/Road Rules Challenge: The Island” ended.. that shit is like my personal Superbowl.. however, but I was surprised to find the new season of Real World had started, and within the confines of my DVR box, I was a simple press of the Play button away from euphoria..

“Eureeka!” I exclaimed!

Got right with some cranberry juice, some Triscuits, and some Colby cheese, and sat my happy black ass back down on the couch for my fix.. like any other nigga, I always wonder how the women are gonna look.. how big will their breasts be? Will she be a slut? What STD will she be kind enough to share with the general populous? Like anyone else, my retinas have a sweet tooth, yo.. your boy NEEDS his eye candy.. and much to my dismay, the first woman they showcase, Katelynn, looks like she belongs in my sock drawer.. no really.. I wanted to grab her by her ears, shove my toes down her throat, and pull her face up to my knee caps.. I’m thoroughly disappointed, as I watch her skip and prance around her native city with her broken-spirited boyfriend, talking about how he doesn’t know it yet, but he’s going to marry her (this is what we call foreshadowing).. but something isn’t right.. ol’ boy has this clandestine sadness in his eyes.. like he’ll hold her hand in public, but only cuz he doesn’t wanna piss her off (kinda like how Tina felt about Ike?).. of course, I’ve never been in that situation cuz I pull nothing but that HEAT, got dammit.. but anyway, Katelynn gets a little more camera time before she catches me in the gut with a sucker punch while the ref ain’t lookin’..

Katelynn reveals that, ladies and gentlemen, she is actually a man.

(One of these things is not like the other.. this is what happens when Where's Waldo meets Fear Factor.)

Niggawhatthefuck?!???!!???

My eyebrows succumb to gravity & I’m immediately on my bitter beer face shit.. this has GOTTA be a joke, right? HA HA HA, right? But no, she’s dead ass serious.. unfortunately, I never got to find out how HE became SHE, cuz by the time SHE was kind enough to share the “joy” of HIS first cross dressing experience, I was already redecorating the crib with puke.. You're gay? Cool.. it’s your business & I respect that.. my degree of tolerance is at an all time high.. do you know how much psychological restaint it takes for me not to clotheslinine kids rockin' skinny jeans in the mall anymore?! But this shit right here? This shit right HERE, nigga? 20 yard penalty like a muhfucka!

It’s not even about the odd factor, it’s the fact that it just defies basic human logic.. what kind of sense does it make for a grown ass man to tuck his nutsack into a bikini? Can somebody please explain this to me? Oh, that's right! It doesn't.. at least lesbians broadcast their allegiance by rockin’ a mullet like a badge of honor, but a lot of these To Wong Fu niggas are running covert ops & that shit ain’t kosher.. that club dance floor has officially turned into Darfur.. it’s fucking real in the field, fam.. I witness this shit first hand every damn day.. the main building of my second job, incredibly enough, is right next to the most extravagant gay bar in Central Phoenix.. one night I walked to my car & got whistled at by the nefarious species known as Oscar De La Dragqueen..

But to me, the illest shit about cross dressers is they look at YOU crazy for picking out your gear from the Men’s section.. you can take all the hormones in the world.. hell, have three titties if you so desire.. but do you truly believe, in your heart of hearts, that a bra can handle your broad ass shoulders? And you're lookin' at ME crazy? The fuck do I look like rockin’ a mini skirt, my dude? I know them Asians be lookin’ at you sideways as hell when you step in the salon to get your nails did.. “Your hands very rough, ma’am”.. no shit!

The national deficit can wait, Barak.. what’s your plan to keep confused males out of the Wal-Mart women’s bathroom? When that next round of stimulus packages hits the street, Victoria Secret and Lee Press On Nails ‘bout to skyrocket up the Fortune 500..

suicide, it's a suicide.

2009-01-09T00:07:00.007-07:00

This shit got me OUT right now.

Dude can consider his pickup game career over and done.. you would've thought all those times he got picked dead last would've served as motivation, but apparently basking in athletic ineptitude was his true calling in life.. when you're in the zone, it feels like your throwing a pebble in the ocean.. his zone must feel something like trying to throw Rasputia into a M&M wrapper.. his J is about as flat as Mya's chest.. shouts to Plaxico Burress though, for just being unseated for the worst shot ever..

The illest thing about the clip is how he looks up at the rim in shock and awe like the rest of us (only he's denied the luxury of laughing at his misfortune), starts to walk back down court, then looks back again like Ashton Kitcher is supposed to jump out from behind a van and spare his dignity.. no, potna.. this ain't an MTV production, this is what it feels like when doves cry..

Obama inaguration be damned, I feel like I just witnessed history.

I bet it feels like fucking Chicago in there when dude plays Around The World..

truly yours, your biggest fan... this is stan (dear diddy).

2009-01-08T08:41:00.009-07:00

I feel like Will Smith at the end of “I Am Legend”.

You know the part where Will’s pleading “Stop! I can save you!” to DMX’s wife & her in-laws? But they ain’t tryin’ to hear it cuz they think the nigga has crack stashed in his lab? So he has this sad look in his eyes like he just accidentally saw T-Pain naked? But them goooooooons lurkin’, so he’s left with no choice other than to pull the pin out of the grenade & rid the world of crackheads and ugly ass, Boston Terrier-faced women all in one, single selfless act?

I’m really on that level that right now.

Diddy, you’re my nigga, but you’re fucking up major, potna.. your label is a shell of a shell of itself, and it’s not like you’re oblivious to it, it’s like you genuinely don’t give a fuck, and as a nigga that's been down for you since day one, word to heartburn that hurts my heart.. back in the day Bad Boy ran this music shit.. I’d be the FIRST nigga at the store to cop (meaning steal, I was a deviant in those days) anything with that logo on it.. Shiny Suit Man changed my life, fuck what The Lox was talkin’ about.. you need that return to glory.. Sean, you need that old thing back.. I’m here for you, Sean.. Stop! I can save you!

I’m really feeling like Kim on “I Wanna Work For Diddy” right now.. so here’s my audition tape.. How would I go about throwing on the cape & saving your label? Let me clear my throat..

1. You’re Fired. Nothing personal, my nig.. the honeymoon was great while it lasted, but you’re just here now to bring bad press & fuck up the team, like Stephon Marbury.. and we at Bad Boy Entertainment can’t have that.. but seriously, you have way too much goin’ on.. the colognes, the TV shows, the clothing line, you got the movies and plays crackin’.. nigga, you've got more jobs than a temp agency.. you don’t have THE TIME to run this junt.. take this pink slip and keep it movin’.. you’re still affiliated, you just won’t be calling the shots anymore.. now, I know that's hard to swallow for an egomaniac of your caliber, but I assure you, it's for the best.. now get the fuck out my office before I call security on you.. I'll apprise you of your new position shortly..

2. Find The Bench Some Minutes. As much as I like the Making The Band cast (that Day26 album went surprisingly hard), do you truly believe, in your heart of hearts, that they’re enough to return you to your former glory? You’re the biggest act on your own label for a reason.. television show aside, Day26 and Donnie Timberlake barely got any promotion, & I don’t even think Danity Kane (I wanna fondle Andrea..... twice) got a second single, after bangin’ niggas over the head with “Damaged”.. how in the red, white, & blue fuck does that even happen? How do you drop the ball in the endzone? You just made a 75 yard INT return! Nigga, I work with kids.. that song was EVERYWHERE! I couldn’t take a piss without the dude handin’ out paper towels in the bathroom even whistling that shit.. last time I checked, that's a sure sign of a pretty big hit..

A lack of promotion tells me that even YOU don’t believe in these niggas.. last time I checked, that was one of the major purposes of even UTILIZING a major label.. if you truly believed in something, you would gamble on it.. and your actions are telling us you don't believe in these modern day niggas for shit.. they're on Tooth Fairy status, as far as you're concerned.. Day26 could’ve went indie, opened at Rock The Bells, & made out like bandits instead of fucking around with your ass.. who in the hell signs with a major to remain a nobody? They KNOW they're gettin' fucked in the pockets, but you trade that out for the privellege of being mobbed at the mall by big tittied white girls (cute being an optional feature on the newest model)..

But like I was saying said, no promo translates into a genuine lack of faith.. you got a bench FULL of dope ass niggas (namely Los & Aasim, you fucked up passing on Royce The 5'9" you fucking ingrate) that need some damn playing time.. a guest spot, a video cameo, SOMETHING.. these niggas are in the horse stable starving with empty ass feed bags.. if you’re not gonna support your starters, let the bench get in & wreck shit.. if they fail, they fail.. but to NOT put their shit out cuz you THINK they won’t sell, when your franchise players are shooting airballs, is fucking asinine.. if Eric Mangina could go back in time, you think he would’ve pulled Brett Farve in that Dolphins game? Don’t be the next contestant on that Summer Jam screen, Sean..

3. Pass the collection plate. Bad Boy had its greatest successes when you spread the love.. what I mean is, let’s take Minister Ma$e for example.. nobody even knew who he was until he wrecked shit on 112’s now classic “Only You”.. this said buzz was then expanded by putting him on a couple of other popular acts’ songs.. so by the time his album dropped, he moved like 4 or 5 million easy.. Bad Boy was GREAT at doing this.. Niggas LOVED Big, so what did you do? Put him on Total’s debut single.. Carl Thomas did how many high profile guest spots on Bad Boy releases before he got his day in the sun? Same with Black Rob.. why in the fuck did you switch the playbook up and abandon this? Did you not see how many units you were moving? In this day and age, labels drop brand new faces on us damn near daily, and we’re supposed to embrace them? It’s like a complete stranger knocking on your door, doing the potty dance, & asking to use your bathroom.. nigga, I don’t know you! Get the fuck on! Same shit.. stop being stupid, Sean!

4. Leave Big Be. Self explanatory.. Big was that nigga, and I miss him terribly, but no more remix albums, selling unreleased verses, or copy and pasting verses we’ve already heard on popular radio singles just to slap “Featuring The Notorious B.I.G.” on the booklet.. that's tasteless, disgraceful, & plain fucking wack.. let that nigga rest in peace and keep it moving, you fucking dick.. if Big heard most of this bullshit you’ve put out since his death, I’d bet good money he’d sit on you.

And fart.

5. Bring Back Shiny Suit Man. Here’s where your affiliation comes back into play.. yes, you’re no longer running the label, but you’re still the face of it.. Bad Boy videos were GREAT back in the day, not just becuz of the ridiculous budgets Hype Williams used to pimp you for, but because of YOU, Sean.. yes, YOU were the star of the show.. the face all up in the camera, the non-sensical dancin’, the adlibs.. you were that nigga twice (so much so that Dame Dash failed miserably at jackin' your entire steez).. we don’t need you in the office, we need you on the video set.. the triumphant return of Shiny Suit Man? I’ll take two, please..

Subtract yourself from this video, and tell me it's anywhere near as entertaining.. of that's right, you can't.. you have a calling Sean, and it's clearly in front of the camera..

So there’s my game plan, Diddy.. let me return you to the league’s elite.. together we can sell out the floor seats in record time.. the glory days don’t have to be but a memory, Sean.. don’t embrace what’s proven to fail you for the last seven years, embrace what worked for you the 7 years before.. now whenever you’re ready, we can talk about my salary.

You're welcome, nigga.

white angry.

2009-01-07T23:21:00.002-07:00

Eminem is one of the greatest battle rappers of all time.

Don’t believe me? Ask Benzino.

Or Ja Rule. Or Canibus.

Or Everlast.

If I ever found out Em was goin’ in the studio to tear me a new asshole, I’d call in a favor & beg God for a power outage.. “Encore” was a glitch in The Matrix.. I expect “Relapse” to be pure, unadulterated hellfire.. cuz like Ru Paul in a mini skirt, he's still got it, gotdammit..

paris, tokyo.

2009-01-06T23:59:00.009-07:00

I’m better than this.

On the real, yo.. I really am.. shit, I KNOW I am.. let the opposite sex tell it.. I’m a gotdamn Adonis!

My claim to fame my entirely life has always been that I attract gorgeous women that fall into one of 3 categories without fail:

1) Blatantly dog me out &/or fuck me over in some way, shape, or form with no logical reasoning for instinctively doing so (the most common one).

2) Are fucking “sleep in your bushes, pour Draino in your gas tank” crazy (a close second).

3) Are completely incompatible with me, yet I keep around cuz I either like looking at them, or they give me something to do…….. literally (somebody’s gotta be third place).

I’ve caught more L’s than the Detroit Lions.. my track record has more epic fails then Tara Reid’s plastic surgeon.. shit is real in the field.. my twin and the rest of the free world keeps beating me over the head with this shit, yet I refuse to comply.. but it’s ’09.. your boy has to get right, right? Gotta find my main chick, right? I mean, shit.. I can’t impregnate myself.. I’m tryin’ to be married before Jesus makes his remix tour.. what the fuck is going on here? Why can’t I get right?

Enter Failure #6712 (name changed to protect the innocent).

I have no godly idea how such a beautiful, drop dead gorgeous woman, can be so inexplicably dense, but she takes the cake, the frosting, AND the box it came in.. I’m not even tryin’ to clown when I say this, but I seriously think this girl might be retarded.. you know those people you try to conversate with, and the only response they can muster is a half hearted smirk? Like they’re trying their fucking hardest to formulate a coherent statement.. SOMETHING.. ANYTHING.. but they can’t? That’s her ass.. every time she attempts to talk I feel like shoveling Gerber down her throat & burping her afterwards until she spits up on my good clothes..

She left me a voicemail once that was 45 seconds of her breathing and laughing.

Then got pissed I didn’t call her back.

I wish I was joking.

And the worst thing about dumb people is they make YOU stupid.. on some "resistance is futile"/The Borg type shit.. that's why I try not to breathe around stupid people, cuz stupidity is as contagious as the common cold, and she’s fucking what’s left of my immune system UP.. you know you’re dealing with a Grade A dumb ass when they communicate solely through text message smileys:

The Nigger You Love To Hate: “What’s good, ma? How’s your day goin’?”
I Have The IQ Of A Toe Nail Clipper: ;-)

The Nigger You Love To Hate: “I'm fucking hungry.. seafood or Italian?”
I Have The IQ Of A Toe Nail Clipper: :-0\

The Nigger You Love To Hate: “What's the square root of 438?”
I Have The IQ Of A Toe Nail Clipper: ;-0

What the fuck, yo.

What a complete and utter waste of a draft pick.. I could've had Chris Bosh and ended up with Darko's weak ass.. if my Moms found out I was dating a woman who keeps flash cards and a retractable helmet in her purse, she'd disown my black ass..

I definitely gotta trade ol' girl before the trade deadline.. if she costs me the O'Brien trophy, somebody's 'bout to become a martyr..

gunz come out.

2009-01-05T14:05:00.003-07:00

(MURFREESBORO, Tenn.) -- A veteran who has been out of the military for 15 years and recently received his AARP card was stunned when he received notice he will be deployed to Iraq.

The last time Paul Bandel, 50, saw combat was in the early 1990s during the Gulf War.

"(I was) kind of shocked, not understanding what I was getting into," said Bandel, who lives in the Nashville, Tenn., area.

In 1993, Bandel took the option of leaving the Army without retirement and never thought he would be called back to action.

"Here he's 50 years old, getting his AARP card, and here he's being redeployed with all these 18-year-olds," said Paul's wife, Linda Bandel.

Involuntary recall allows the military, regardless of age or how long someone has been out of service, to order vets back into active duty."

Awwwwwwwwwwwww MAN, these niggas better fall the fuck back and leave me alone!!!

This shit got a nigga real 'noid right now, on some Rockwell "Somebody's Watching Me" shit.. my palms are sweaty, my breath is about Midget Mac height.. they need to stop playin'! Niggas thought "Arab Money" was just a crappy song with a shitty hook.. NOPE! Real talk though, I don't even know what I'd do.. I bet homepiss was cakin' too.. had his lil' wife and grandkids.. good ass job on some Kanye shit.. dude was GOOD! Then the military came through like Snoop in the "NY NY" video and kicked down the buildings.. that's wild foul.. but why come after a 50 year old? The fuck kind of sense does that even make, unless they're gonna swap out his pacemaker with a hand gernade & use him as a suicide bomber.. I'm befuddled on this one..

Bush tryin' to go out swingin' before the White House gets painted black.. on everything, the Air Force come lookin' for me, I'm not takin' the L.. I'm taking the lives of the entire judges panel of American Idol.. keep fuckin' with me, America! See what happens!

Take that nigga Ronnie, shit!

tom's plantation (the myspace archives): sorry! an unexpected error has occured (pt. 2).

2009-01-05T13:13:00.004-07:00

The official B(est) N(iggas) B(loggin') roll call:

Teef a.k.a. We All Like Things...™ a.k.a. A Genius : http://www.deathofagenius.com/

Ronnie a.k.a. oNe mAn gAng...®: a.k.a. Mr. Jolla : http://misterjolla.blogspot.com/

Mikey a.k.a. I’m Mikey, I Rock a.k.a. Crack No Rehab : http://cracknorehab.blogspot.com/

And of course, myself.

-----

The Top 6 Songs A Black Man Should Never Bump In Public (Contd.).

Jade. "Don’t Walk Away".

The Incomparable Bozack Jenkins ™: Ahhh yes.. no way in hell was I the only nigga who beat his pre-adolescent dick mercilessly to this video.. the cut off hoodie & boots movement made for a terrific blip in the female nigger timeline.. but if you are a black male in possesion of a functional prostate, be forewarned.. don’t let those hard drums and a bassline custom-designed to clothesline your speakers fool you.. this junt ain’t for you, potna.. tunnel vision is a bitch, but I can’t be the only one to see your gay ass cousin Twan ensnared in its sonic crosshairs.. this song is reserved for 40-year-old white women at war with their second childhood.. this song is for rock solid, 240 lb. diesel niggas who wear thongs, skip in the mall, and clap with their wrists.. this song is for 80’s babies with succulent asses and synthetic scalp modifications.. hell, this song is even for Ru Paul’s unsightly ass.. but you, my nigga? What is "Hell and no" for 300, Alex?

Mr. Jolla: Straight up….the beat is a pure unadulterated SEND-OFF. The beat is funky…but funky in a "where’s the deodorant" type way. It’s not Strong enough for a man, but it’s damn sure PH balanced for a fag though.

To get caught juking to this shit would be Bad News, brown. It’s bad enough to be singing a female’s song in the public eye…you un-tinted window having ass nigga…but THREE? The only times three is good biz is when it’s Kyle Korver shooting a jumper, three model-esque women crave your attention and all look Hollywood hot, and when you buy candy from Walgreens and the sugar product in question is down for the 3 for a dollar deal. Otherwise, stay the fuck away from threes. 6’s, 3rd wheels on going out, and 3 dollar bills…and the vocals attached to the three chickens on this song. Don’t Do It To Yourself.

A Genius: I have a confession. I just put this song on in the background while I was typing this up and during the second chorus I-I-I…hummed a little bit of the song. *hangs head in shame*…I am in no space to talk about this right now…

Crack No Rehab: No cosigning this one, I got my credit to protect here, Jay you are by yourself on loving these broads. I have no idea who Jade is and I don’t really care because chicks in the 80’s and early 90’s were atrocious. Baggy jeans, baggy shirts, black boots and 17 ft weave is not what’s popping. Weave in these broads hairdo’s alone put at least 5 Chinese kids through college. Don’t believe me? Check any music video from that era, nothing but jeans up to their belly button and flannel. A different world being the exception because trust me I would have done the biz-nass to that cartoon character voice having Cree Summer. This song can’t even be remixed to add "girl" to that shit. "Don’t walk away girl" does not make this song less gay and makes you a bitch nigga…nuff said.

Cowboy Troy. "I Play Chicken With The Train".

The Incomparable Bozack Jenkins ™: Got dammit, does affirmative action know no bounds? Some barriers aren’t meant to be broken.. the law of gravity is perfect fine as is, and last time I checked, so was country music.. why? Cuz much like hockey, we’ve swore an unofficial oath to leave that bullshit be.. No niggers allowed? Cool with me! Did this "nigga" miss the memo? I could’ve sworn we all signed the same damn charter.. this is a prime example of ambition gone awry.. could you imagine the look of horror and disgust his parents gave this dude when he came home from Career Day at his elementary school, and told them he wanted to be the first "hick-hop" (his words, not mine) artist? I don’t even blame his parents though, I blame his boys.. what’s this nigga know about hooded tees and Cross Colors? What’s this nigga know about Jason Weaver being the cool nigga on "Thea" we all aspired to be like? What’s this nigga know about drooling over Rachel off BET? This dude is a lost soul and his community collectively failed him..this is like the Pete Rock remix of Jodie Foster in Nell.. he’s better off talkin’ to paint chips and ant hills, cuz when he comes around The Black Delegation, we’re lookin’ at this nigga like, "the fuck does playing chicken with the train even MEAN?".. do not pass Go, do not collect 200 dollars, and leave your skin color at Park Place.. QUICK! Somebody ask this nigga if Cherry and Red are the same flavor of Koolaid!

Mr. Jolla: He’s gonna tell you that Red is technically a color, not a flavor. Let me just say that I’m a fan of all types of music, so those gearing up the "You need to be more open minded" marches….pardon me, the mayor has not signed your Rally Permit. So HOESITDOWN!! Anyway…this traitorous T.R.O.Y. character…what’s to say about him that hasn’t been said about Flavor Flav? He needs to be present at the next Racial Draft so that he can be traded or dropped into the Free Agency Pool…whatever it takes to get him the FUCK off of Team BLACK. Maybe we can rescue D. Wade from Miami in exchange for this nigga and 6 jars of Blue Magic…the Grease. (You know how Riles gets down…) "Hick Hop"? Are you serious? In the video there was a Black dude shown, and he looked out of place as Hell…but somehow at peace with himself. Oh that was this DUMB ASS cracka. The only "Hop" taking place is when the "brothas" make a hop, skip, and a jump over to your "neck o’ da woods" to collectively ensure that there won’t be a "I Play Chicken With The Train" 2008. Let Ruben Studdard sing our apologies….FUCK his straw hat and this bum ass song. You Don’t Want To Be Cowboy Troy….You Want To Live Longer Than Him. Peace To LeBron’s Marketing Team…

A Genius: If this nigga doesn’t die before midnight, I will no longer believe in God. Dead ass. I hate my life for hearing this. I am at my lowest level of swag in 10 years as a result of this bullshit. Yall niggas are talking about flavors and shit…pshh! He’s the type of nigga to say "Kool aid? What’s ’Koolaid’?" We’re taking his black card …MC Hammer lookin ass nigga. Fuck that, I’m not open minded…I hate country music and whatever kind of music this nigga is making too. I swear to the God that I believe in for the next few hours that if I ever see this nigga in person I’m going to punch his zebra ass dead in his mouth. I’m serious as this nigga can’t be. *parental tone* If I ever…I mean EVER catch anybody listening to this shit in the whip I’m lassoing their hoe ass clean out of their window. Cut the bullshit.

SMH @ me knowing exactly what the song title meant soon as a saw it though. I gotta get my black back. I need to go to a rally or something right now… There was a white girl in the video that I would smut crazy though…she could get the business like I left it in my will. You know what’s really fucked up though? This nigga probably think he’s down with the team. NAAAAW. You’ll find out exactly how much of a nigger you are when you jump fool with one of these country white girls. They’ll go straight Spartan on Troy’s dumb ass…300 crackers surround him while black people finally take MLK’s advice and turn the other cheek. We don’t know you fam. There will be no chicken (nigga probably doesn’t like it anyway)…but plenty of train for you. He’ll get tied to the tracks like scarf…Straight Earl Little that ass (R.I.P. Brother Malcolm).

Crack No Rehab: I have never felt the urge to wear a bow tie and sell bean pies but today that all changed. Fuck it I picked up the Quran on sale today and I am officially a militant ass nigga. You know Troy got the most niggerish family though right? I mean uncles hanging out on the porch, no shoes, kids with bright pink lips tap dancing on watermelon. I bet "Issa and skrimp" was a regularly used term in Troy’s household. That’s the only explanation of him beating out Carlton, Wayne Brady, and Taye Diggs for The Wackest Nigga Award. Teef might be in the know but I don’t know what the title means and I’d like to think that makes my swag a little higher. I checked old boy out before when flipping channels and saw a Negro on CMT. Black people are no longer black once they appear on that channel, refer to them as Colored, Coons, Moon Crickets, or any assortment of rarely used words. So for bumping this you automatically get dragged behind a pickup truck.

TO BE CONTINUED. . .

tom's plantation (the myspace archives): sorry! an unexpected error has occured (pt. 1).

2009-01-04T09:14:00.011-07:00

Aiight soooooo as some of you may know, I first got this blog shit poppin’ over at MySpace.. they held me down lovely over there for like 3 years, but I had to spread my wings and get it crackin’ on a bigger scale, so here I is.. but in order to bridge the gap between the new readers and old ones, I’ll frequently throw up some of my previous classics on here for public consumption.. your boy gets it in, got dammit.. the following was the official debut release of the niggas you love to hate, BNB.. better known as The Best Niggas Bloggin’:

Teef a.k.a. We All Like Things...™ a.k.a. A Genius : http://www.deathofagenius.com/

Ronnie a.k.a. oNe mAn gAng...®: a.k.a. Mr. Jolla : http://misterjolla.blogspot.com/

Mikey a.k.a. I’m Mikey, I Rock a.k.a. Crack No Rehab : http://cracknorehab.blogspot.com/

And of course, me.

No superstar guest appearances, no convoluted R&B hooks.. no high profile producers and big budget videos.. just niggas doin’ what they do best.. we banged niggas over the head with this one.. that Voltron status is no joke.. in its original incarnation this shit was about 800 paragraphs too long for a single read, so I’ll chop it up into parts and hit you with that piff.. you should have the whole thing within a week though, so without no further ado I present………

-------------------------------

Contrary to what the Declaration of Independence states, all men are not created equal.. anyone who’s had the privellege of looking down my pants can attest to that fact.. but outside of my own supernatural girth, although this country has undeniably taken great steps towards some semblance of parity, my black ass will still have a 99.74% success rate of getting pulled over by 5-0 should I dare cross the invisible line and opt to procure a vehicle over $30k.. I’m just sayin’.. so in my 27 years of keeping the jigaboo flag afloat, I’ve stumbled across an infinite well of knowledge, pussy, and life lessons.. at 6 I realized that the only G.I. Joe that looked like me wouldn’t ever shut the fuck up.. at 8 I learned that Michael Jackson wasn’t just extraordinarily ashy.. he had, in fact, jumped in a cocoon and came out a hideous white woman.. at 12 I learned that only white people eat Grape Nuts.. at 16 I learned who The Beatles were, then proceeded to not give a fuck for the duration of my modest existence.. at 21 I learned it was all pink in the middle.. and somewhere along my merry way, I learned that there is no conceivable sum of swag on the entire fucking Earth that will permit you to save face should you be spotted beatin’ up your speakers to the wrong shit in public..

So to school niggas on proper stereo etiquette, I’ve rallied the troops, loaded the cannons, and we’ve taken to the friendly skies to drop ether on your delicate ass playlist.. ladies and gentlemen, I present..

The Top 6 Songs A Black Man Should Never Bump In Public.

Rick Astley. "Never Gonna Give You Up".

The Incomparable Bozack Jenkins™: Michael McDonald, Michael Bolton, and Michael Jackson be damned, this is the blackest white song ever.. ever? EVER.. that said, is imitation truly the bastard child of flattery? We got this bootleg ass Doogie Howser MD goin’ clean the fuck off with the vocals, and contrary to popular belief, his two step game is superb.. in fact, fuck what them throwback niggas in the club tell you, Mr. Astley was impregnated by Soul Power and gave birth to the default special move of niggas high-yellow to "floating teeth-purple" everywhere; the iniquitous two-step.. we modern day negroids can lay a reluctant claim to snap music and Crayola box-inspired jewelry, but Rick and his melanin deficiencies hold the sole copyrights to the two-step and their ensuing blues.. every nigga on Earth who can’t dance for shit should get on bended knee, shove Boyz II Men out the way, and pay their respects by making sweet love to his pinky ring.. he’s got the moves, the shades, and some random, spandex-clad nigga running up the wall in his video? How in the red, white, and blue fuck is it even remotely possible to hate on my honorary nigga Rick? That said, somebody’s gun is still destined to go off in your direction should you chose to bump this junt in public.. and sans warning, should you be dumb brave enough to do so anyway, you better pray to God you hit nothing but green lights.. I’m bad with numbers, but that zero to 60 ain’t seein’ those eight in the chamber, homie..

Mr. Jolla: Toledo Two-Stepping motherfucker…This Pre-Robin Thicke son of a bitch didn’t just have the nerve to sound authentic-Black…he didn’t just have the nerve to be doing a move reminiscent of Carlton singing Tom Jones…he had the unmitigated gall to have SamBo Jackson hard at work in this video. This NIGGA was working the bar, taking out trash, cutting grass, edged up Rick Astley’s sideburns AND ran up a wall and did a back-flip…complete with gay pose at the end like he was waiting to be judged for his point total. Okay, only two of those aforementioned things took place, but you better believe that the back-flip was one of them. That being said, the song itself isn’t even bad…but there’s no way you can sit in your ride with your rims all shined up, fitted on backwards…scratch that…fitted ON…and bump this shit unapologetically. It’s not happening. If you’re so bold to have this shit playing and get pulled up on by ANY race, you better have your hand remotely close to the "change track" button, and act like it’s the radio or some shit.

*Looks Over and makes that "Damn I can’t Believe They’re Playing This" face*

"Damn….I haven’t heard this shit in ages! Classic….ah well." And change that fucking "channel" fam…we’re trying to save lives here…

A Genius: Truest of stories, I had NO IDEA what yall niggas were talking about with this shit. I’ve never seen the title…never seen the name. None of that shit. I wanted to participate so I jumped on Limewire and DLed that shit quick fast and I must say…yall niggas are the gayest straight niggas in the world for even knowing anything about this shit. Yall should be ashamed…seriously. I got 24 seconds into that shit and threw my central processing unit clean out the fucking window. Violation! Somebody needs to shoot. I know one damn thing…yall niggas need to pool some cake and get me another computer. Yall niggas owe me for this shit. That was seriously the gayest 24 seconds of my life. I have to do some super fucking to redeem and cleanse myself of that shit. I’m going to throw on the cape like a Magic player, no HIV…but I feel sorry for my girl tonight. I’m gonna hit her heart like a love song. Fuck listening in public…you’re not allowed to listen to that shit AT ALL. PERIOD. That shit was 80’s gay…the worst kind of gay there is. I will be typing the remainder of this shit on my Dash.

Crack No Rehab: I am hip to this song because of family guy and fuck what Teef said this is my shit. That is it would be my shit but my love of vagina over powers my urge to press play. Rick Astley was getting bitches off this though. His swag must have been epic, "Hey Rick, we gonna dress you up for the video shoot?" He said fuck the 80’s fuck that flashy shit, give me a fresh pair of Dockers and let me roll up my sleeves. Niggas was on 10 layers of make up, 6 inch heels, David Boey shit and he came through and said "Not Me." But that didn’t carry though to his music cause I don’t care this shit is gay, inflation makes it even gayer now then it was in the 80’s. You get 2 points on your license and 3 tickets to Broadway automatically for bumping this. White people can’t even sleep easy on this one cause I’ll pull Trent’s card too if I catch him slipping.

TO BE CONTINUED. . .

i be off that kryptonite.

2009-01-03T10:37:00.000-07:00

Beyonce and her lopsided eyebrows can kick rocks.

“If I Were A Boy” is a sonic smear campaign of epic proportions.. I mean, what the fuck? What office is she running for with this nonsense? Obama ALREADY pulled off the combo breaker of the century.. stop being greedy! Fall back and join the ride, on some Hilary Clinton shit.. If I was Hov, I’d bitch slap her with my bottom lip for such insolence..

If I were a boy
I could turn off my phone
Tell everyone it’s broken
So they’d think that I was sleepin’ alone

Really, Beyonce?

Is that what you did to to LaTavia & LeToya? Or did you reserve the rights on that special move for Ms. Farrah Franklin?

Seriously though, are you dense? Why turn that junt off when I can just put the phone on silent and just ignore your ass to my heart's content? My phone is my sole conduit to the rest of the free world.. what would life be like without photoshopped picture mail spam of grandmothers juggling their own gravity ravaged breasts? You know how much merriment was welcomed into my world the morning of the 25th, when ex-girlfriends I literally forgot existed forwarded me texts wishing me a Merry Christmas? Sure, they sent the same one to about a hundred other people, but that’s beside the point.. my phone is my LIFE.. I mean, damn.. how else do you think I spend so much time on ESPN.com and Hoopsworld? You really think I’m about to deny myself the God given right to MY OWN PHONE by turning it off just to ignore YOUR calls? Nigga, are you serious? I went to the crib and fell asleep! Don’t believe me? Smell my finger! Shit!

I’d put myself first
And make the rules as I go
Cause I know that she’d be faithful
Waitin’ for me to come home

Yeah, cuz women NEVER put THEMSELVES first, Ms. Knowles.. if I see a woman gettin’ her ass beat on the street by a renegade bum, am I not expected to throw on the cape, stop the madness, and dropkick homepiss in the temple?

Yes.

If I’M getting MY ass kicked up and down the street by said belligerent bum, and ol’ girl bears witness to ME gettin’ served like Raz B's prostate, do you truly believe, in your heart of hearts, that she’ll lift a finger to captain MY black ass? I wouldn’t even ask for much! Just pelt homepiss with a rock and run! Or hell, jump in your ride and Halle Berry his ass.. 5-0 comes? I didn’t see SHIT!

But would any of the above happen? Nope.. cuz she’s selfish! So FUCK YOU, Beyonce!

Seriously though, the more I analyze this song, the more I truly believe she’s sneak dissin’ Jay-Z.. I mean, it’d make perfect sense.. that IS what rappers do, right? Them niggas will pop off on wax ALL FUCKIN’ DAY, hog tie a nigga's moms and decorate their chillins with bullet holes, but when the DJ puts a mic in their face and asks for clarification, they get to tap dancin’ like Gregory Hines.. if you have a problem with your 42 year old pet camel fucking everyone and their grandmother on his albums & snackin' on your front lawn, take it up with that nigga and stop empowering the kids MY black ass has to deal with, with your bullshit..

The Greatest Rapper of All Time, that's Nas for you small bus niggas, made a song about fucking the entire free world-- and Kelis did the damn INTRO on that junt! Talk about the ultimate co-sign.. “Yeah, bitch! You gave him Trick, but he’s fucking ME now! He’s miiiiiiiiiiine, you may have had him once, but I got him all the tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime..” Now THAT’S a ride or die chick.. you think Beyonce would do that? Hell AND no.. she’d snatch the mic, dance like Carlton Banks, and assault our eardrums with that terrible Charlie’s Angels song..

But since I’m an equal opportunity dude, I got something for you too, Beyonce.. cuz you and your mythical band of faultless harlots aren’t above public crucifixion either.. I'm taking the tar and guilitine to your monkey ass.. Somebody cue up Reason.. I got that Large Pro remix on deck, complete with Young Jeezy adlibs, got dammit..

If I was a girl
I’d wait ‘til your sleepy
Then begin a 7 hour conversation about why you don’t like my mother
Then cry & bitch when you don’t wanna talk
Cuz you have to be up for work in 4 hours

If I had a vagina
I’d buy a tight ass dress knowing rent is due in 2 days
Then ask you if it makes me look fat
Knowing gotdamn well it does
Then cry uncontrollably when you confirm that fact and call you a jerk

If I had some titties
I’d cry about nothing
The mail late? Nigga, I’m crying
No gas in my car? Nigga, I’m crying

If I could conceive
I’d buy me a weave
And some fake nails, and some make up, and a girdle
And a push up bra
Then tell you how you look like shit
And remind you of how fine I am

If I had two X chromosomes
I’d invite you to my home
Then act funny when you try to take the pussy
Even though you just spent $200 on dinner
But we can’t have a second date? Nigga, I’m crying

Fuck you, Beyonce!

FIN.