Monday, January 28, 2008

Bill and Hillary, thanks for the Wake-up call..(

(To my faithful readers, as much as I hate to quote an author who once introduced the world to a character named "Nigger Jim" - but "the rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated"(Hence the blog inactivity) - it would seem that a certain gelatinous chimney hopper put a girlfriend in the stocking of your favorite neighborhood pre-ejaculator. Well. sorta. I have yet to maneuver my mandible and the lips attached to it to actually form the words "Girlfriend", so right now I refer to the lady in question as "The only woman in three years that I offer post coital conversation to" - that being said, on with the show.)

Historically I'm a light sleeper, a person who can be easily awakened by something as subtle as a television channel being changed or the vibrations a bed makes when a lover decides to make an early morning bathroom stop - that's why some of the harshest curse words exit my urban pie-hole whenever a person takes it upon themselves to interrupt my nocturnal emissions in a rather violent fashion. My guess is that my hatred of said practice started in the early 90's, I'd be nestled so snugly in my Michael Jordan bedsheets trying to take advantage of every ounce of sleep I could get before going through the daily minutiae of High School. My mother, a woman's who's voice was severely damaged due to a heart surgery 40 years prior - would pound on my door like she was a member of L.A.P.D's gang unit and would proceed to absolutely screech the following: "HumanityCritic!!!! Get your nappy-headed ass out of bed before I tell your friends that the mailman is your father! Just ask yourself why we get our mail before anyone else?" My "non letter carrying" father wasn't much better, his way of waking me up either had to do with him threatening me with "I'll strangle you with your small intestines motherfucker!" violence or having my face mushed into my pillow the way Ice Cube did that young woman in the "It was a Good day" video. Suffice it to say, the better part of 20 years have been spent angrily growling like a rabid dog at whoever dare wake me up with anything north of a gentle whisper or slight nudging - so lets just say that the past two weeks have prompted your favorite blogger to let out an expression of anger that only members of PETA and bestiality enthusiasts the world over could recognize.(Read more here)

Sunday, January 27, 2008

My daily attempt to resurrect Hip Hop: Doug E. Fresh & The Get Fresh Crew - "Keep Rising To The Top"

Keep Rising To The Top - Doug E. Fresh & The Get Fresh Crew

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Not to tug on anyone's emotional heartstrings here, but I get the sneaking suspicion that I will go through my entire life without ever knowing what it feels like to gleefully jump a broom with my soul-mate - and it has nothing to do with my addiction to strippers and emotionless sex against my muscle-car either. I just think, before I get on one knee to propose to the love of my life, or I have some waiter figure out a n innovative way to fit an overpriced ring into a fortune cookie - I'm certain that I will scare her off with my Hip Hop idiosyncrasies. For example, every time I've ever been to an "all you can eat" buffet - I flashback to the Fat Boys in the movie "Krush Groove" and start pointing at food while beat-boxing: "Give me a poo-poo-pat-poo-poo-poo-pat, and a poo-hahahahaha-poo-poo" Every time I hear Big Daddy Kane's "Set it off", regardless where I'm at - when he gets to the part where he says " lets all sing the Big daddy anthem", I put my hand on my heart and stand at attention for the remainder of the song. Thanks to this Doug E Fresh video, every time I'm in a dance club I find myself doing his signature "hand-swipe around the head" move - and you better believe when I give someone a pound, I yell out "Shalom"

Wednesday, January 09, 2008

"Call me Naive, but I sorta believe!"(

"Call me Naive, but I sorta believe" sounds like a campaign slogan an indecisive politician might adopt, but those were the exact words that escaped my hairy mandible as I talked to my friend DanTres immediately following Barack Obama's win in Iowa - a statement in stark contrast to my previous belief that there wasn't a snowballs chance in Lil Kim's vagina that America would ever elect a black man to the highest office in the land. Since I come from a state that almost re-elected a known bigot who manufactures innovative slurs for black folks in his spare time, I'm fully versed on the doctorate degree that many Americans hold in Racism 101 - I, like so many others, felt that the spark that was Obama's presidential campaign would fizzle out faster than Taylor Hicks' career. Also, to be quite candid - my main concern was for the brother's safety - every time I'd see him greeting enthusiastic crowds I found myself yelling "Get him the fuck out of there!" as if his secret service team could actually hear me. It was akin to watching a showering blond in a 2nd rate horror flick.(Read more here)

Barack Obama: "The Chicago Way"

Barack Obama this morning: "I think that Senator Clinton, obviously, is a formidable and tough candidate, and we have to make sure that we take it to them just like they take it to us. I come from Chicago politics. We're accustomed to rough and tumble."

That's exactly what I've been waiting for, I'm down with him giving inspirational speeches about unifying the electorate because its surely a vote getter - but sometimes you just have to chin-check a motherfucker to keep them honest. If it isn't Bill shamelessly lying about Obama's stance on the war, his claim that Hillary is tougher than Nelson Mandela, Hillary suggesting that a vote for Obama will provoke terrorist attacks - or her insulting people's intelligence by giving LBJ most of the credit for the Civil Rights movement - a full frontal political assault is long overdue. Lets see if he learned anything from his days in Chi-town, having Sean Connery giving you political advice can't be the worst thing in the world.

Man, FUCK Ron Paul!(

It never fails. Every time some buddy of mine waxes poetic about some new girlfriend of his, making it seem as if she utters nothing but Winston Churchill quotables, and resembles Sade back in the days when the leading men in her videos were predominately Eurotrash - what I usually find is a woman that I actually lose I.Q points just standing besides, who would be a shoe-in for the role of "Sloth" if they ever decide to make a "Goonies" sequel. The same thing goes for music as well, hearing someone carry on about some Hip Hop group that they absolutely adore is nothing but a recipe for disaster - a delectable dish that I mercilessly devour as soon as I sample the artists music and realize that I've heard more ear-pleasing bowel movements in my day. For the past 6 months, my email inbox has been inundated with questions from my loyal readers concerning Ron Paul - they either asked my overall feelings about his candidacy or whether I planned to support him or not. Being that most of my correspondence with readers either consists of me trying to score some online booty, or chopping it up with a reader about some miscellaneous Hip Hop group - the last thing on my agenda was Ron Paul, primarily because I've never been in the business of throwing my vote in the proverbial circular file. But having done some research on the Texas Congressman, I finally have a clear opinion of the politician:(Read more here)

My daily attempt to resurrect Hip Hop: EPMD feat. K-Solo & Redman - Head banger

Thursday, January 03, 2008

Album of the Year: Blu & Exile "Below the Heavens"(

Every year, specifically around the final days of December, I always find myself concocting some rather unattainable list of resolutions - lofty goals so amazingly ambitious, that following a small fraction of said resolutions would make your favorite pre ejaculating blogger qualified for sainthood. My days of thriving to be a more patient person are over, virtues of that nature are reserved for Kindergarten teachers and journalists who interview Lil Wayne - not for ornery 30-something writers whose life's blood happens to be exuding bitter hatred whenever possible and welcoming confrontations from drunk strangers. No longer will I attempt to fool myself into thinking that I will become a more considerate lover in the name of some cliched list - who am I bullshitting, timing my sexual exploits with a stopwatch as if I was a track coach then lovingly whispering into my lady's ear "It's sandwich time!" are some of my more appealing qualities. I've completely abandoned the concept of eating healthy as well, it would be rather hypocritical of me to eat tofu during the day and imbibe nothing but grain alcohol at night - besides, I've kind of grown used to my ever expanding gut, not only has it become my trademark like Linus' blanket but it also shields me from the sobering reality that god didn't anatomically bless me. As for some grand illusion of me exhibiting more tact in 2008, forget about it - just last night I mistook a young lady's nationality, prompting her to angrily state: "I'm not puertorrican, I'm Filipino!!" - in which I very casually responded "Shit, you should have taken that as a compliment!"(Read more here)

My daily attempt to resurrect Hip Hop: The Coup - Fat Cats and Bigga Fish